Chapter Fifty-two


Recognizing the rhythm of the frantic knocking, the Commander gestured to the guard to open the door. He responded quickly, and three men stumbled in the instant there was enough space to do so. All three were injured, at least one with wounds that were probably fatal. As his two companions lowered him to the floor, the man looked up.

"Commander," he whispered. The Commander immediately knelt beside the man and helped to ease him down onto the cold tile. "They have . . . have gained entrance . . . into . . . the palace. We could not . . . stop . . . them. Too many . . ."

"How did they breach the walls?"

"Missiles," the man gasped. "Two. One to the . . . outer courtyard . . . wall . . . and the . . . other . . . to the . . . front . . . wall . . . of the . . . palace . . . itself." He gasped, struggling to continue, but for a long moment it was more than he was capable of. Finally, he rallied a bit and said, "Brought in . . . . ground troops. Good . . . tactics. Knew . . . how . . . to . . . fight. Had . . . help . . . from inside . . . too."

"Did you see their leader?"

The man nodded fractionally. "Woman. Red . . . hair. No . . . fear. Came right . . . at . . . us."

"You said they had help from inside. Did you see them?"

"No," the man replied faintly, his strength failing again. "Just . . . began . . . taking . . . fire from . . . the rear."

"Anyone else?

"Another . . . woman. Indian . . . dressed in . . . black . . ."

"Could she have been leading the forces on the inside?"

Again, the man shook his head no. "Right . . . behind . . . the leader . . . covering . . . her . . . Couldn't . . . stop . . . them . . . Commander. . . . Too . . . strong . . ." The man gasped again, his eyes opening wide, then his back arched spasmodically. For an instant, he was rigid and then he gasped one final time, his body went lax, and he died.

Grimly, the Commander stood, waving over several nearby men to aid the others. Without a word, he turned and strode down the corridor toward their command post to report these facts to his Captain. The knowledge that the man was staying with the rear guard, ostensibly to protect Mr. Birla, caused his stomach to roil. He was a coward, nothing more.

As he stepped into the large open area that served as central command, he surveyed it quickly. They hadn't even attempted to board up the door to the throne room, just gave it a wide berth. The ceiling in the room was threatening collapse and no one was prepared to risk shifting any of the fallen stone and mortar to clear the entrance sufficiently to block it. So the pile of rubble directly across the huge reception area stood as a mute reminder of how efficient their present opposition was. They had been down to a mere quarter of their original number before this latest attack. God only knew how many men they had left now. Spotting the Captain off to his left, the Commander swerved toward him, pushing his way though the throngs of agitated civilians. Stopping in front of the man, he sketched a barely civil bow and said stiffly, "Our adversaries have gained entry to the palace."

"No!" the Captain shouted angrily. "I told them they were not to permit it."

The Commander shrugged. "As I have said before, our opposition has superior weaponry, a larger fighting force, and a hunger for revenge."

"They are nothing but rabble!"

"Once, perhaps. But no longer. Their leader is wily and uses her resources well."

"And they are coming here," a new voice added. The Commander looked down at the bundle of white that lay huddled on the floor against the wall. Slowly the head rose and Neela Singh stared at them. Even through the bruises, the spark of defiance was still visible. "They will not stop."

"We are well entrenched," the Captain sneered. "We will pick them off easily."

"Perhaps," the woman replied. "But how long can you continue to do so?" Her smile was unnervingly serene considering her circumstances. "We are patient. It is a skill we learned at the hands of men more depraved than you. And they will just keep coming. Wave after wave after wave . . . until you have no more ammunition, no more weapons, and no more men. And in the end, you will lose. It is only a matter of time now."

The Captain snarled in impotent fury, aiming a vicious kick at the woman, but the Commander neatly deflected it. "It serves no purpose to attack her for doing nothing but telling the truth. I would suggest that preserving her as uninjured as possible may be a point in your favor when you must negotiate with her son and daughter-in-law about terms for surrender."

"We cannot surrender," Birla snapped. "I will not. This country is mine!"

Neela's soft laughter mocked him. "I remember Deepak saying much the same thing right before his own son threw him from the top of the palace walls."

"Do something!" Birla shouted at the Captain. "Do something or we will all die here!"

The Captain whirled and faced Garrett Blackman belligerently. "We need those weapons! NOW!"

Garrett spread his hands and shrugged eloquently. "We are pinned in here, too. How are we supposed to get them here?"

"At least order your men to the front lines to fight!" the Captain demanded. "That way, if they have a chance to get clear, they can bring the weapons back and hit our attackers from behind."

Garrett's expression turned hard and cold. "My people do not fight your battles for you," he snapped. "I have every intention of getting out of here, and remaining neutral is our only chance of doing that."

"Do you honestly believe they will consider you neutral when we tell them you were here to sell us weapons?"

"As I told you before, Captain, I have no need to sell to you. I can just as easily sell to them. And if the woman leading the opposition is honorable, as the Commander claims, then she will not attack a neutral party."

The Captain snatched up a gun and aimed it at Garrett's head. "Then I will kill you myself."

Garrett eyed him coolly without a trace of fear, while behind him, everyone in the room could hear the sounds of safeties coming off as the men who had accompanied him brought weapons to bear on the Captain. "No, you won't. Because you know that if you harm me, you won't last another 30 seconds. Believe me, my men are much more ready to die than you are. Furthermore, I am a businessman and you know it. If you can find a way to pay me and get me out of here, you know I will complete our transaction as agreed. And as long as a chance exists for this to happen, I am safe enough."

Tension gripped the room as the two men faced either other defiantly. Suddenly, a thoughtful expression flickered across the Captain's face and something kindled deep in his eyes. Privately, Garrett shuddered at the look there. It didn't bode well for someone. Slowly, the Captain lowered the gun.

"How much do you value your loyal adherents, Excellency," he said in a quiet tone.

"What?" Birla asked, startled. The Captain nodded toward the roiling throng that hovered like frightened cattle at the far side of the room. Following his gaze, the would-be Sultan shrugged. "They can be replaced."

A smile twisted the Captain's features. "And the Commander tells us that our adversaries are honorable. Excellent."

Belatedly, the Commander realized what his leader had in mind. "No!" he said explosively. "They are non-combatants. You cannot -"

"I can do whatever it takes to get us out of this mess," the Captain replied sharply. Walking swiftly across the room, he randomly grabbed one of the men from the outer edge of the crowd and drew him away, saying, "Come with me. I have a job for you." The man blinked at him, but followed willingly enough.

"Wait!" an older man called from the center of the crowd. "Where are you taking -" A gesture to the guards caused them to converge on the protestor, and no further questions were offered.

"No!" the Commander muttered frantically. "This is not right!"

"What -" Garrett began, grabbing the Commander's arm, but the man pulled away and ran after the other two, who had just disappeared into the corridor.

With a sick feeling at the pit of his stomach, Garrett gestured to Paul and the two of them followed hastily.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Hadji was gone before anyone else had the chance to say a word or move to stop him. Calling for Kefira frantically, he cast a hasty glance around the remnants of the once-beautiful courtyard and kept right on going as he confirmed that she was nowhere in sight. By the time he reached the shattered main gate, he could hear both Jonny and Jessie screaming at him to stop, but he ignored them, intent only on finding Kefira before she did something he would never be able to live with. Please, he begged silently to whatever higher power might be listening, please do not let her do this thing. I understand now. I will do anything. Please let me find her . . .

He broke into the open screaming her name at the top of his lungs. As if from a great distance, he could hear the keening cries of grief for the dead mixed with the sound of pain and fear. But he didn't care. He slowed his headlong rush slightly, searching every face for some sign of her, but she was nowhere to be seen. She had slipped away from him somehow, and a voice inside his head whispered that he would never see her alive again. With that realization, something inside of him died.

The first shot rang off of a pile of stone about three feet to his left, causing him to stumble to a halt. He frowned at the blaze in the stone uncomprehendingly as two more shots thudded into the ground nearby. He turned his head and looked up to see a group of Janissary soldiers on the upper wall at the far end of the palace. He was obviously on the extreme edge of their range, but they seemed determined to keep trying until they hit him. Behind him, a sudden barrage of return fire marked Jonny and Jessie's entrance into the fray. Both of them were screaming at him to get down, but he ignored them. Without taking his eyes off of the men on the high wall, he turned to face them squarely, spread his arms palms up, as if inviting them to shoot him, and walked toward them. Two more bullets whistled by, one singing past his ear and the other skimming the top of his left shoulder where it left a furrow and a growing stain of red.

"What is wrong with you?" he screamed at them in sudden fury as he increased his pace. "You are supposed to be good. I will not try to stop you. Just shoot me and get it done!" He could see one of them taking careful aim while his teammates provided cover fire, and he came to a stop and closed his eyes, waiting for it. His mind registered the sound of the shot just as something struck him full force in the side, knocking him to the ground. He fought blindly as hands grabbed his arm and dragged him into a nearby screen of trees. I>"No!" he sobbed wildly. "Let me go. I order you. This is what I want!"

Arms wrapped around him from behind, preventing him from crawling back out into the open. "NO! I will not allow you to do this. It is wrong."

At the sound of the voice, he went still. After a stunned moment, he twisted around and stared at the speaker. Tear tracks stained her grimy cheeks and more brimmed in her eyes, but Kefira stared back at him with fierce determination.

"These people need you. If I must live with this dishonor to keep you alive, then I will do so. I will disassociate myself with my remaining family and I will go on, no matter what the cost to me. But I will not see you willingly allow yourself to be killed out of guilt because you finally came to realize that you had made a mistake in your choice of wife. My life is not worth it."

"Kefira," he whispered and lifted a shaking hand to the side of her face. Then, with a wordless cry, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into his arms, not caring that he was crying, or that the world around him was in shambles and other people were dying. In that instant, he only cared that she was still alive and that someone had given him a second chance. Rocking slightly, he clutched her in a vice-like grip, speaking brokenly to her. The words were muddled, sentences fragmented to nonsense, but after a time she came to understand what he was trying to say. Her arms closed around him and then words were beyond both of them. Only touch and tears remained as the sounds of war continued all around them.

Jonny and Jessie's arrival finally brought them both back to reality. The two young people erupted into the grove of trees under a hail of gunfire. Holding her gun in one hand, Jessie thumbed off the full auto safety and released a long burst of fire toward the entrenched Janissary guards.

"Son of a bitch," she swore, "we have got to get those guys down from there!" Breathing heavily, she snapped the ammunition clip out of her gun and peered at it. Tossing the empty magazine away in disgust, she dropped the gun and then moved to the back of the grove of trees and eased forward to peer out away from the palace and into the city. Putting her fingers to her lips, she whistled three piping notes sharply. The same call came back to her almost immediately. "Stay here!" she snapped and then burst out of the trees, sprinting away from the palace as fast as she could go.

"Jessie!" Jonny screamed as bullets chased her across the open ground. Spinning, he threw himself to the ground and returned fire, trying desperately to give his girlfriend some cover. "If anything happens to her, I swear I will never forgive you, you self-centered moron," he snarled at his brother. "What the hell did you think you were doing? Are you a complete idiot?"

"I had to find Kefira," Hadji tried to defend himself weakly, still clutching her tightly.

"Well, you wouldn't have had to go looking for her if you hadn't been so determined to play the goddamned martyr. I'm sick to death of you wallowing in self-pity because you were born to be a Sultan and don't want the job. Grow up! If you don't want to be a Sultan, then chuck it and do what you want to do. Or make peace with it and find a way to learn to like it. But stop making everyone around you miserable or getting them killed because you're riding the fence."

"Jonny -" Hadji said, trying to interrupt, but Jonny was on a roll now and wouldn't be stilled. Letting loose another round of gunfire, he continued.

"And for God's sake, quit trying to make personal decisions for other people! Kefira's said she loves you and wants to be with you so many times, it's almost more maudlin than Jess and I. Geezus, you told me once that you didn't think you could live through the misery that we went through trying to get our relationship onto an even keel, but you're ten times worse than we ever dared to be. At least I never deliberately walked into a firefight asking to be shot!"

"That is not fair!" Hadji came back hotly, starting to lose his temper.

"The hell it isn't!"

A familiar, high-pitched whine suddenly interrupted the escalating argument and all three young people looked up just in time to see a missile streak by and strike the upper corner of the palace. The explosion sent all three of them flat to the ground as dirt and fine shards of stone rained down on their grove of trees. About five feet away a large boulder thudded to the ground and rolled to a stop against one of the nearby trees. As the sound of the explosion faded away, silence fell on the area once more. Raising his head, Jonny looked around cautiously. Nothing stirred for a long moment. Then slowly, heads began appearing at the palace gate and Jonny heard Vijay Patel call out questioningly.

"We're okay," he called back. "Make sure everything is secure. We'll be right there." Surging to his feet, he moved out into the open cautiously. "Jess?" he called loudly.

"Right here," came her reassuring call and he turned to find her trotting up to him. Slinging the gun across his back, the grabbed her and hugged her fiercely, causing her to drop the missile launcher. "You okay?"

"Fine," she replied. "Not a scratch." She leaned back and reached up to run a gentle finger down one cheek. "Can't say the same for you, though. How did that happen?"

He reached up and touched the long scratch that ran from his jawbone to temple. It stung fiercely now that she called his attention to it, and was still bleeding. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Stone chips from a near-miss probably. It's not a big thing."

"Maybe, but we'll clean it up as soon as we get inside. Can't have it tarnishing those good looks, now can we?" She squinted at him. "Still can't get used to the hair. We're gonna have to do something about that."

He grinned at her. "As soon as we get home."

"Deal." She glanced over at the trees. "How's Hadji and Kefira?"

Jonny's mouth tightened. "Oh, they're just dandy," he said shortly.

Jessie sighed. "Jonny, don't be angry with him. He simply didn't understand the situation he was putting her in."

Releasing her, he shook his head. "That's not the point, Jess. He claims he hates being a Sultan, but he's developing a real talent for trying to make arbitrary decisions for other people. This business just now never would have happened if he hadn't decided that Kefira didn't know her own mind well enough to make a reasoned decision about her future."

"But you know he's afraid she's only doing it because it's what's expected of her."

"I don't care. He should know her well enough by now to know that she wouldn't tell him she wanted to be his wife if it wasn't true."

"Yes, but she was fully prepared to walk out of that palace and let herself be killed to satisfy honor," Jessie pointed out.

"She never would have gone through with it."

"Then you don't know her as well as you claim you do."

For the first time, Jonny looked shaken. "She would? I thought that was just an empty threat."

Jessie shook her head. "It was no threat. You think Hadji has trouble walking that fine line between cultures? Imagine what's it like for Kefira. She's balanced on a knife's edge. Hadji can shrug off the laws he doesn't like and no one will do a thing to him. But the same can't be said for her. Yes, she would have done it. She may not have put a gun to her head and pulled the trigger, but she would have found some way of seeing that honor was satisfied."

"Man, this place is screwed up!"

"More screwed up than I can ever hope to fix," a quiet voice replied from behind them. Jonny and Jessie turned to see Hadji and Kefira walking toward them. He held her tightly against his left side and his expression was grave.

Jonny took a deep breath. "Hey, Hadj . . . about what I said . . ."

"You were right. I need to make a choice . . . one that I can live with. I thought I could do this, at least for a time, but I cannot."

Jonny sighed wearily and scrubbed a hand across his face. "Look, man, I understand how you feel. And I'll stand by what I said at least this far. You do need to make up your mind what you honestly want and then do something about it. But you need to do it when you're calm and rested, not right after you've had the holy living hell scared out of you."

"It will not make any difference," Hadji started to say, but Jonny shook his head, cutting him off.

"Maybe not, but you're the one who told me once that the wisdom of infinity comes from the clarity of a single instant, but that it's hard to know which instant to pay particular attention to."

Hadji looked at him incredulously. "I did not!"

Jonny grinned as the four of them turned back toward the palace. "Sure you did."

"I do not even know what that means!"

"Well, neither do I, so we're even." Reaching into his pocket he pulled something out of it and held it out to Kefira as the four of them walked through the shattered gate and entered the courtyard. "Put those back on where they belong," he told her, dropping the ruby pendant and wedding band into her hesitantly outstretched hand. "And the next time he pulls something like this, don't walk away . . . just kick his butt. Not only is it what he needs, he deserves it, too!"

"It will never happen again," Hadji said quietly, tightening his arm around her protectively.

Kefira took his free hand, turned it up, and dropped the two items into his palm. "Hadji, do not do something you -"

"Do not start. As Jonny has pointed out to me already, I am enough of a martyr for both of us. I need for you to be the voice of reason." Clutching the pendant and the ring in one fist, he lengthened his stride and led her across the threshold and into the palace a few steps ahead of his brother. A crowd of about fifty men met them. All of them appeared nervous and the low murmur of voices increased when they saw Kefira and Hadji together once more. Holding up a hand for silence, Hadji said evenly, "Hear me. I have been a fool. In a misguided attempt to protect her from harm, I attempted to send this woman away. It was never my intention to imply that I was dissatisfied with her in any way. She is my wife . . . the only one I want or will ever take." Releasing Kefira so he could turn to face her, he took one of her hands in his and said simply, "I am sorry, Kefira. I was wrong. I know now that I would sooner die than face another day without you at my side." Taking the necklace, he slid the chain over her head and eased the ruby pendant down until it lay between her breasts. Then he took the wedding band and slipped it back onto her left hand. Looking her in the eyes imploringly, he asked, "Can you possibly forgive me?"

She smiled at him tenderly and then reached up to brush a wayward lock of hair out of his eyes. "You only sought to keep me safe. What is there to forgive in that?" Then the corners of her mouth quirked up and she gave him a lovingly stern look. "Just as long as it never happens again."

"Never again!" he said fervently and then pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

The crowd began to cheer and after a moment, Jonny smacked Hadji on the back with a grin. "Hey, you can do that later! Right now, we need to find Birla and put an end to this business. I have a job to get back to, remember?" Turning to Vijay, he said, "Mr. Patel, what is our situation?"

"It appears that the last of our opposition has withdrawn into the throne room area. They have barricaded themselves into this area and have closed off all access to the area with the exception of a single corridor."

"The main parade entrance, I suppose," Hadji said in disgust.

Vijay nodded. "Yes. They closed the large wooden doors into the hall and the matching set at the end of the corridor. They hold both sets of doors and have gunmen positioned to shoot down anyone who gets through the first set of doors and into the corridor."

"Any cover at all along there?" Jessie asked.

Hadji shook his head. "No. What few niches there are along the hallway are small and have pedestals and statuary in them."

"Damn," Jessie muttered, then sighed. "I really don't want to use grenades -"

"We can't," Jonny replied. "Birla's got women and children in there with him. We use missiles or grenades and we're likely to kill all of them."

Jessie and Kefira exchanged a look and then Kefira took a deep breath. "That is not all they have." She looked up at Hadji painfully. "I am sorry, beloved, but we believe they have the Lady Neela, as well."

"How the hell did that happen?" Jonny demanded.

"We think we had a spy in the ranks," Jessie replied. "Picked him up after we got into Bangalore City. He represented himself as one of Mr. Patel's men and we had no reason to doubt him. She disappeared during the trip here from the warehouse Hemant showed us and he was the last one seen with her."

"Do you know who the man was that took her?" Hadji demanded.

"Simul Naik," Vijay replied heavily.

"Whose family is loyal to Mr. Birla," Hadji finished grimly. Vijay just nodded.

"That's just -"

"Excellency!" Everyone spun at the call as a breathless man appeared from around a corner. He slid to a stop in front of Hadji and bowed awkwardly as he gasped, "A man . . . one of them . . . he calls for you. A truce to talk, he says."

"Who is this man?"

"He claims to be the leader of the Janissaries."

The four of them exchanged startled looks and then Hadji demanded, "Where is he?"

"At the doors that lead into the processional way, Excellency. He has not come out into the open - only demanded to see you from the partially open doorway."

"I don't like this!" Jonny exclaimed.

"What's the terrain, Hadji?" Jessie demanded grimly.

"The throne room complex sits almost exactly in the center of the palace. It consists of the audience chamber itself, which we destroyed a few days ago, a large rectangular room that serves as a waiting area and reception hall for formal functions, and a long, broad corridor that leads to the reception area."

"That's the processional way?"

"Yes. It can be closed off at either end by heavy, reinforced wooden doors that are designed to be barricaded shut if the need arises."

"Any other way out?"

"Not anymore," Jonny replied in disgust. "Thanks to me and my bright ideas."

"Do not blame yourself, Jonny," Hadji told him. "It was a good idea and necessary at the time. If you had not blown up the throne room, we would never have gotten everyone out past the gate guards."

Jessie grinned at Jonny. "You blew up the throne room? Sweet. That must have rattled Birla's cage."

"That was the idea."

"So what about access to processional way?" Jessie prompted, all business again.

"There are about six corridors that come together in an open oval area. The doors leading to the throne room complex are on one long wall and the other six halls open into it. There are tapestries and divans along the walls, but not much else."

Jessie closed her eyes briefly, building the image in her mind. Then she looked at Hadji again. "Okay. And where are we from there?"

"The corridors start at the narrow ends of the oval and are evenly spaced. That hallway over there leads directly into the oval and is the third opening from the left of the throne room doors as you face them."

"So it opens as close to directly across from the doors as you can get?"

"Yes." Then she turned to the man who had brought the news. "And you and the men with you?"

"We were set the task of guarding the door, Lady, so no additional Janissaries could leave there and come at us from behind. The corridors leading to the doorway are not straight so they afford some safety. We have also brought in some heavier pieces of furniture to use as cover and they are placed a short way out into the open area opposite the door. There are about twenty of us spread across the three corridors and behind the area of safety we created."

She nodded approvingly. "Good job. Okay, here's what we're gonna do. Hadji, you and Kefira will stay here. Jonny, I want you with me."

"You cannot -" Hadji started to protest.

"Listen to me!" she said sharply. "This has setup written all over it and we can't afford to risk either one of you. That's the reason that when Kefira and I decided to come here, she told me I was to take over and lead the fight against your enemies. And that's exactly what I've done. But just because we've gotten into the palace doesn't mean we're done. We're still in the middle of that fight. Unless you're planning to change that arrangement, this is situation to deal with."

Kefira laid a hand on his arm. "Do as she says, husband. She knows and understand our enemy, and our people follow her without hesitation."

"But he has called for me. I cannot ask for anyone else to risk -"

"There he goes again," Jonny said. "Hadji, just shut up and stay put. Let us deal with this guy. Where do you want me, Jess?"

"With the men behind the cover. I want you at my back."

"And you?"

Jessie smiled grimly. "I'm going to have a pleasant little chat with our friend, the Janissary captain."

With another admonition to Hadji and his wife to remain where they were, Jonny and Jessie followed the guardsman down the long corridor. When they neared the end of it, they slowed, and Jonny reached back to Jessie. Placing his hand on her stomach, he pressed her gently against the wall and then pivoted on one foot and, using his body, he pinned her there. He leaned over and whispered softly in her ear, "Wait here until I'm in place. I don't want you confronting him until I'm in a position to have him in my sights."

She nodded economically, but when he would have moved away, she stopped him. Catching him by the nape of the neck, she pulled his head down and fastened her mouth on his, her tongue teasing his lips, asking for entrance. Without hesitation, his lips parted and as their tongues intertwined, Jonny wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against him tightly. His hands roamed up and down her body, caressing her as if starved for the contact. For a long moment, the world around them receded and all that existed was the electric contact of their bodies and the heady taste of their mouths. When he finally released her and stepped back, Jessie could sense how much effort it took. Her hands clutched at him, not wanting to break the contact, but finally let him go reluctantly. With a feather-light caress on her cheek, he breathed, "Take care." And then he was gone.

Jessie leaned against the wall, her eyes closed and her body aching slightly, the feel of his hands lingering in her memory. I love him so much, she thought. Please God, don't let anything take him away.

"Lady . . ." the guardsman said softly, resting a hesitant hand on her arm. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and looked at the man. "Your Lord is in place. If you wish to . . ."

He trailed off respectfully as she sighed deeply and then nodded. She waved at him to take his place with the other men and then, squaring her shoulders, she stepped forward boldly and called, "Janissary!"

The silence stretched for a long moment. Finally, the door cracked slightly and a voice called out sharply, "What is it you want, woman?"

"I am told that the leader of the Janissary troops wishes to speak with a member of the Sultan's forces. So speak."

"I am hardly likely to speak with some lackey. Particularly a woman! I called for the Sultan. Or is he too much of a coward to face me?"

Jessie laughed derisively. "Coward? A strange choice of word from a man who hides behind the lines and orders his men to slaughter indiscriminately without thought for their honor. No, Janissary. You will not see the Sultan, nor his wife. A man with no honor cannot be trusted. If you wish to negotiate, your only choice is to deal with the leader of the Sultan's armies . . . and that is me. So say whatever it is you wish us to hear or go back to hiding in your hole. The choice is yours."

The man's rage was almost palpable as he snarled, "I should kill you where you stand."

"You could try, but I doubt you would have much success. So what is it that you want?"

Through the barely cracked door, Jessie could hear the sounds of agitated conversation. She couldn't make out the words, but the tone indicated that someone on the other side was upset. Jessie waited for what seemed like an eternity, but still there was no reply. Finally, she shrugged. As she turned away, the guardsman who had led them here appeared at her elbow. Nonchalantly, in a voice designed to carry, she said, "Your men are to remain here. I will send reinforcements. This door is to remain sealed and nothing or no one is to be allowed in or out. Is that understood?"

"What of food or supplies?"

Glancing back over her shoulder, she shook her head. "Nothing," she replied flatly.

The man bowed respectfully. "As you command, Lady."

A sudden commotion caused her to drop into a crouch and spin back toward the door, her weapon snapping up defensively. The door opened suddenly, and in a motion almost too quick to follow, something was shoved out into the anteroom. Jessie caught a fleeting glimpse of several faces framed in the doorway before it was yanked closed once more. Before it clicked shut, the Janissary Captain called out again.

"Consider this, woman, and know that I've got at least 150 more where that came from, including some that are of even greater value to the Sultan than this one! I give you one hour. At the end of that time, the Sultan and his whore will turn themselves over to me, or you will get more of the same." Then the door slammed and she could hear the locking bar drop into place.

Jonny moved past her swiftly, dropping down beside the slumped form in the middle of the floor. Turning the body over gently, he flinched at what he saw. The man had been savagely knifed, the blade inserted deeply into his belly and drawn viciously up until the blade struck the breastbone. Organs protruded through the gaping hole and there was blood everywhere. But the victim was well past caring. Jonny removed his fingers from the man's neck and looked up at Jessie, shaking his head. "He didn't have a chance," he told her grimly.

She closed her eyes against the sight for a long moment, fighting to control a strong urge to vomit. Finally, sighed and gestured to the men who had risen to stand silently behind her. "Find a litter and something to wrap him in. Does anyone know him?"

Low murmurs moved through them, and finally the lead guardsman shook his head. "No, Lady. Several have seen him before, but do not know his name."

She nodded wearily as several men approached with a jury-rigged stretcher. Carefully, they laid a heavy pad of cloth across his belly, wrapped him in a long white sheet, and then laid him on the litter. When they were finished, Jessie gestured back the way they had come. "We will return to the Sultan and Sultana. They will wish to see him and attempt to locate his family." Pointing to two men, she gestured to the litter. "You will come with me. The rest of you remain here. No one goes in or out, no matter what happens. Is that clear?" Everyone nodded. Motioning to the two men, she said, "Let's go."

Hadji and Kefira were waiting anxiously when they returned. Both were struck by the expression on Jessie's face when she reappeared in the corridor, and Kefira ran to her immediately. "What has happened, Sister? What did he want?"

"To prove a point and demand your surrender," she replied heavily and then gestured to the others behind her. "Do you know him?"

Kefira moved to the stretcher and her breath caught sharply when she looked down at the body. "Yes," she whispered hoarsely. "Yes, I know him . . ."

Hadji came to her quickly and put an arm around her shoulders protectively. "Who is he?" he asked her, not recognizing him.

Slowly, she raised haunted eyes to him. "Subir Rafiq . . . the man I was once destined to marry."

"Your sister's husband," Hadji breathed softly.

"Oh hell . . ." Jonny said softly, and Jessie hung her head and sighed again.

Hadji gathered Kefira into his arms, holding her tightly against him and pressing her head into his shoulder. "I am so sorry, Kefira," he whispered remorsefully. "Things never should have come to this."

Finally, she stirred in his arms, and looked up at him, unshed tears glistening on her eyelashes. Stroking his cheek gently, she shook her head. "You have nothing to be sorry for, beloved. None of this was your doing."

"We will get Daria out of there," he promised her.

"No," Kefira replied, freeing herself from his grasp. "Not at the expense of doing what is right. The Rafiq's chose their side, as we all did, and now they must live with their decision."

"But your sister -"

"Is a Rafiq." She raised her eyes to look at him seriously. "Do not doubt that, husband. Daria knows where her loyalties lie, as do I. We make no special accommodations for her simply because we share blood."

"But -"

Shaking her head, Kefira turned back to Jessie. "What do we do now, sister?"

Jessie had been silent during the exchange between Hadji and Kefira, seemingly lost in another world. When she didn't immediately answer, Kefira became concerned. Reaching out, she laid a hand on Jessie's arm, shaking it slightly. "Jessie? What is wrong?"

"Hmmm? What? I'm sorry . . . I wasn't listening. What did you say?"

"I asked you what was wrong. You look disturbed."

"Disturbed? No . . . no. Just thinking."

"About what?" Kefira insisted.

"Something I saw." She looked over at Jonny. "Could you see anyone behind that door?"

Jonny shook his head. "No. I wasn't close enough. Heard voices, but I couldn't tell what they were saying."

Jessie glanced over at Kefira again. "The field commander was there. I saw him clearly."

"So he did made it back here," Kefira replied thoughtfully.

"Yes, and he wasn't a happy man." She waved at the body of Subir. "This isn't an action he would approve of."

"Do you believe he will do something to prevent it from happening again?"

"Hard to say."

"What are the two of you talking about?" Jonny asked.

"We've run into one of the men in there before. I don't think we can trust him to be an ally, but he could be a wild card." She let her eyes move from one of them to the other before she added slowly, "I caught a glimpse of two other men, too . . ."

"Who did you see?" Hadji demanded.

"Paul Descarte was one of them . . ."

"Who?"

"You knew him as Jean-Paul Bussac."

"Bussac! What the hell is he -" Sudden fear stripped Jonny's voice away at the look Jessie gave him then.

Heavily, she added, ". . . and the other was Garrett Blackman."

Jonny exchanged a startled look with his brother. Then he turned to Jessie and began in bewilderment, "Mr. Blackman? What would he be doing -" Again, her expression stopped him in mid-sentence and, for a moment, the two stared at each other in silence, as Kefira looked away, biting her lip. Finally, Jonny forced himself to say, "Just tell us, Jess. What is it?"

Tears shimmered in her eyes as Kefira reached out and caught hold of Hadji's arm in a comforting grip. "The last time I talked to Garrett Blackman was a couple of days ago," she told him as steadily as she could. "He was at the Compound in Maine."

Jonny stiffened. "Why?"

"It's your dad." She looked from one young man to the other. "He's sick . . . very sick. Mr. Blackman said that he's dying."

"No," Hadji denied in an agonized whisper, as Kefira slipped an arm around him.

It took Jonny three tries before he could get his voice to work at all. "Did you talk to Dr. Mason? Did she say what was wrong?"

Jessie shook her head. "No." She closed her eyes wearily. "Dr. Quest isn't the only one that's ill. My mom's developed complications. The day I called, I had just missed Dad . . . she had collapsed and Dad and Dr. Mason had to rush her to Portland to a specialist. Mr. Blackman and Stan Knight were at the Compound keeping an eye on Dr. Quest."

"How did they -" He stopped and scrubbed at his face as if trying to wipe away the exhaustion that lay over him now like a blanket. "Oh hell, it doesn't matter how they got there or why. Did they know what was wrong?"

"I didn't talk to Stan, but Mr. Blackman didn't have a lot of detail. All he said was that they had finally identified the cause of the weakness and memory loss Dr. Quest had been suffering."

"I didn't even know he'd been suffering from memory loss," Jonny said painfully. "Why didn't they tell us?" He turned away and moved unsteadily to a nearby divan where he sank down and rested his head in his hands. "How could this happen???"

Shrugging free from Kefira, Hadji crossed to sit next to Jonny on the divan. "This is not your fault," he assured him. "You must not blame yourself."

Jonny shook his head as thought denying his brother's statement. Then he asked in a low voice, "You said they figured out what was causing it?"

"Mr. Blackman said it was related to that business in England about five years ago."

"What business in England?" Hadji demanded. "I do not remember -"

"Smallwood." The bitterness in that single word seemed to echo in the silence. The room was full of people, and yet the four of them might just as well have been alone. With profound weariness, he finally added, "Smallwood and his goddamned mind-control chip that was supposed to make the world so much better. It never even occurred to me that the chip could have anything to do with it."

Jessie cleared her throat with difficulty. "I didn't get a lot of it, probably because Mr. Blackman didn't understand it very well either. He said that Dr. Quest was working to figure out how the chip worked so that he could try to reverse the effects, but his memory was quickly being destroyed and they didn't know how much longer he could continue." She swallowed hard. "He said that Dad told him that they needed us back at the Compound right away to assist with the research."

"How long ago was this?" Jonny asked with unnatural quiet.

Jessie waved her hand vaguely. "Two days? Three? I don't know anymore . . . maybe even four. Everything's started to run together and I can't . . ." She stopped for a minute, too choked up to continue, and then in a rush, she dropped to her knees in front of him, and, laying a hand on his leg, she said, "Jonny, I'm sorry. We tried to hurry -"

Reaching out, Jonny caught her shoulders and pulled her up into his lap, pressing her face into his shoulder and burying his face in her hair. "It's okay, Jess. It's not your fault." He looked at his brother over her bowed head. Grief etched deep lines between Hadji's eyes and his mouth was rigid with pain.

"I cannot leave," he said raggedly. "Not with things as they are here."

"I know," Jonny replied.

"You must go . . . quickly. Perhaps is it not too late -"

"And do what?" Jonny demanded bitterly. "Stand helplessly at his bedside and watch him die? Hadji, we're talking hard-core theoretical research here. You know me. I'm clueless with that kind of stuff. I'd be worse than useless."

"But we must do something!"

"Yes, we must," Kefira replied. Her tone caused all of them to stare at her in astonishment. It was glacial and her expression set. "There has been too much suffering and too many lives lost. It stops now." Turning from the others, she pointed at one of her guardsman and snapped, "Bring me the crates from the main transport vehicle. All of them." Turning to a second man, she gestured back up the corridor, "Tell the men guarding the doors that they are to be ready to pull back. Those men who have established cover in the open area in front of the doors are to move back and take their blockades with them. I want that antechamber cleared."

Hadji started to rise from the divan, a half-formed protest forming, but she waved him to silence. "You are to remain here, husband. Jessie was right. We have led this fight from the start and it is now time that we finish it. Sister, I need you with me."

Jessie rose immediately, pressing on Jonny's shoulder to keep him in place when he would have risen with her. "You stay here with Hadji and make sure he stays put. We'll be back." Then she turned a significant look on Vijay Patel. "See they follow those orders, Mr. Patel. I don't care if you have to restrain both of them bodily." Then she spun on her heel and the two women disappeared down the corridor toward the throne room.

Once out of earshot of Jonny and Hadji, Kefira said, "We must get them to Dr. Quest, Jessie. He has no chance if we do not. Too many good people have died already because of Arun Birla and I will not see Dr. Quest be another of his casualties." She shot a lightning-quick glance at the other woman. "We are both thinking the same thing, I think. Mr. Blackman is here looking for Jonny, knowing he will find Hadji with him, to take them home to Maine."

"That's my bet. No word about what is going on over here has been getting out of Bangalore, and things were getting so desperate back home, that someone made the decision to come looking for us. Any other time, it would have been my Dad, but with Dr. Quest and my Mom both sick . . ."

"Yes. So he sent Paul and Mr. Blackman instead."

Jessie shook her head. "Paul maybe. He used to be with I-1, but I don't see Dad asking Mr. Blackman to take that kind of risk. My bet is that Dad doesn't know anything about this . . . that it's Paul's doing. Mr. Blackman probably volunteered, and Paul helped him set up and execute a cover story."

"Yes. But even if we could get them out of there, as long as Mr. Birla and the Janissaries are in a position to cause trouble, Hadji will not leave, and Jonny will not go without him. So we must do something to change that situation."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I have had enough," Kefira replied grimly. "The Janissary Captain has issued an ultimatum. Since that is the way he chooses to try to end this confrontation, that is the way it will end. What sort of explosives do we have?"

Jessie blinked. "You're going to try and blast them out? Kefira, you'll kill everyone in there!"

"That is possible. But Jessie, you are thinking just like Hadji, and I keep telling you that this is a much different culture. It is entirely possible that the people standing with Birla now are having second thoughts, and if they are, it is very unfortunate. But the simple fact is that they chose their side. Now they must take the consequences."

"But -"

"There is no 'but' . . . not any longer. By the time these people moved to the palace, the tide in this war had begun to shift. In all likelihood, that is the very reason they came here. They made a conscious decision to stand against their rightful ruler and back his usurper. And before you try to argue the point that the men's wives and children did not have a choice in the matter, let me say again that no matter how much you abhor the situation, right now that is the way the system works. Some men allow their wives to influence them and some do not, but regardless of which is the case, everyone who stands in that room now chose to back Mr. Birla. As much as I might wish to be compassionate, it is no longer my place to be concerned with their welfare . . . at least, not to chose their well-being over that of the people who have stood loyal to my husband. So I am going to give the Janissaries a choice . . . they surrender now, or I will use every weapon in my possession against them until there isn't a single one left standing." She stopped abruptly, then, and turned to face the other woman squarely. "The only question left to answer is whether or not you will stand beside me in this final fight."

The two stood staring at each other for a long time, each trying to gauge the other's resolve. Finally, Jessie nodded heavily. "I've come with you this far. I'm not about to back out now. But if you're serious about this, then we do it the right way."

"Which is?"

"We call in the troops to stand behind us, we announce our intentions to our adversary and make it crystal clear what we plan to do, and we give them time to respond. We also give them the chance to send out the non-combatants. Then, if they refuse, we hit them with everything we've got."

Kefira nodded immediately. "Agreed."

Jessie turned and gestured to Hemant who still dogged her heels faithfully. "Hemant, I want you to go back and find the leaders of the first four advance teams. Tell them that I need them here immediately with all of their men. Then locate the rest of the team leaders and tell them to form up their units and await my word." She eyed him with a touch of humor. "You may also tell them that we are preparing for the final assault on our enemies, however try to keep the details to a minimum, okay?"

Hemant bowed with an impudent grin. "As you command, my lady."

Jessie just shook her head. "Go!"

The two women then continued on until they reached the antechamber where they found the guards waiting for them. All of the men had pulled back, but the barricades that had been erected earlier were still in place. With a sharp command, Jessie set them to clearing the space while they awaited the arrival of the others Jessie had summoned. It took about 15 minutes to clear the chamber and about the time the last of the heavy furniture had been moved down the corridor, their reinforcements arrived. Jessie quickly outlined what she wanted them to do and then waved them to their places.

"They have been watching," Kefira told her quietly as the last of the men took up their places well out of sight up the corridors across from the main doors.

"I know. You have to expect that they're starting to get nervous by now."

"Wondering what we are doing."

"Yep. I don't think the Captain believes we will do anything other than surrender, but you can bet that the field commander knows differently."

"We can hope that he will be able to get them to listen."

"We'll hope." Jessie checked her watch. "It's fifteen minutes before the Captain's deadline is set to expire. Are you ready?"

Kefira took a deep breath and then nodded. "Let us finish this."

"Okay, wait here. And stay out of sight!"

Taking a firm grip on her gun, Jessie moved down the corridor and stepped out in full view of the door once more. "Janissary!" she called sharply.

For a long moment, there was no response. Then the door opened and a man stepped out into the antechamber to face her. He closed the door behind him and bowed respectfully. "Lady," he said in quiet acknowledgement.

"We meet again, Commander," she replied. She paused momentarily, allowing the silence to hang between them, and then she said, "I would speak with your Captain."

The man shook his head regretfully. "He will not, Lady. He says that he should be speaking with the Sultan himself, and will not lower himself to speak with a mere woman again."

Jessie's grinned at him. "Your Captain thinks a great deal of himself, doesn't he?"

The man tried to remain stern but simply couldn't suppress a responding smile. "Unfortunately, yes."

Then Jessie's smile faded. "The situation has become grave, Commander. Your Captain's honor is now so far gone that he kills his own allies. We both know that this cannot continue."

"They are not our allies, Lady, but rather the allies of our employer. He was the one who decided what their loyalty was worth."

"But surely that does not exempt you from the dishonor of what was done. The man your Captain killed was not a combatant. In fact, as the sole direct heir of one of the oldest families in this country, it is doubtful he would have been allowed to fight, even if he had wished to do so."

The man gestured helplessly. "I agree with you, Lady. It was ill done. But there is no way, now, to undo it."

Jessie sighed softly and shook her head. "I know."

The man hesitated and then, in a soft voice meant to carry only to her, he said, "The man . . . the one in your life . . . how does he come to allow you to be in such a place as this?" Anger warmed his tone slightly as he added, "One such as you should not have to face the horrors that have been wrought here."

"All of us have our part to play, Commander," she replied in the same quiet tone. "I am a warrior . . . born and bred. He does me the honor of recognizing my skills and allowing me to be what I am." That intense interest shone in his eyes again, and she could sense his desire to reach out to her.

"And yet you are tired. I can see it in your eyes."

She smiled at him sadly. "As are you. Too many miles, too many fights, too many horrors, and too many dead. I am heart-sick at the pointless death and grow weary of this war."

He nodded at her. "I, too. There is no honor in a conflict such as this."

She stepped forward abruptly and laid a hand on his arm, standing close and staring up into his eyes. "Then let us end it, Commander . . . now . . . before more blood is shed. There can be only one outcome. We both know this. The only question remaining is how many more must die before we reach that end."

For a long instant he stared down at her, his eyes clouded and sad. Finally, he reached up and cupped her cheek gently with calloused fingers as his thumb caressed her lips lightly. "You cannot know how much I would give for that decision to be mine to make, Lady."

Sorrow filled her eyes. "As do I, Commander," she said to him softly. For a split second, she turned her head slightly, leaning into that warm hand. Then she stepped back once more. In a clear, carrying tone, she said, "Since your Captain will not come forward to speak with me, I must ask you to bear word to him once more."

He inclined his head. "It would be my honor."

Jessie's lips twisted in a bitter smile and she shook her head slightly. Then, squaring her shoulders, she said, "Tell your Captain that his terms are unacceptable; that the rightful rulers of Bangalore do not bargain with dishonorable men who would use women and children as a shield to keep from paying the price for their actions. Tell him also that if he will not lay down his arms and come out, bringing the traitor Birla with him, we will come in and get them both."

Alarm flared in the Commander's face and he stepped forward urgently. "Lady, the Captain did not lie. There are many inside that are noncombatants. I assure you, he will not hesitate to kill all of them . . . including the Sultan's mother."

If he thought his final statement would cause her to pause, he was mistaken. Without hesitation, she nodded. "I understand. But he leaves us no choice. To accept his terms means the destruction of many more than the few you hold. And most that stand within now border on being traitors themselves. Are we to turn our backs on the loyal men and women of Bangalore in order to save a small few who betrayed the Sultan and their own country? Whatever dishonor may be attached to the destruction of the innocents you hold would be far outweighed by the dishonor of betraying those who were faithful." She shook her head again sadly. "No, Commander. The decision has been made. As I said earlier, the only question remaining is how many more will die before this is all over. This much we will grant you. With the exception of your Captain and Mr. Birla, any who are willing to come out now and beg mercy from the Sultan and his wife will be allowed through the lines and given a safe place to stay until judgment for their actions can be rendered. Those who choose to remain must accept the consequences. Tell your Captain that he has until his own deadline to decide. If we receive no answer from him by that time, we will attack and we will not stop until they are dead." Then, without waiting for him to acknowledge her words, she turned and walked away.

Jessie had no more than gotten out of the Commander's sight along the curving corridor when Kefira materialized in front of her. "So?"

She stopped and gestured helplessly. "You heard the conversation?" Kefira nodded. "He'll carry the message back. What the Captain will do is anyone's guess. All we can do now is wait."