Chapter 10

In the dim light cast by the glow of the distant factories, Steed watched as the two women, both dressed in leather, squared off in combat. He had dragged the case containing the Zagadka decoder from the center of the flatcar, anticipating that Mrs. Peel would want an uncluttered arena to maneuver in. Watching her as she faced off against her opposite, he remembered seeing his own features briefly reflected back at him as he fought The Ladja. It was as if they both had been forced to do battle with their evil doppelgangers this night.

Steed was ready to assist Mrs. Peel in her struggle, but with his injured thigh, he thought he might prove more of a hindrance than a help. He decided to stand clear and wait for an opportune moment to jump in.

Emma was in top form as she opened with spinning crescent kick, the side of her foot impacting Leov's head. The Mistress immediately fell to the steel surface of the flatcar, but it turned out to be a ruse; as Emma closed in to leap on her back, Leov lashed out with her poison heels. Steed wasn't sure whether Mrs. Peel's leather catsuit would be sufficient protection against the stiletto boots.

Emma danced backwards as Leov sprang like a panther. The two rolled over the floor in Steed's direction; he debated running back to the front of the train to search the toolbox for a weapon. There was no sense in Mrs. Peel risking her life in a hand-to-hand battle if he could end it more quickly.

Leov grabbed Emma's wrist and forced it downward, raising her stiletto heel so that the spike was only inches away.

"Mrs. Peel!" Steed cried. "The poison!"

Emma pulled her hand back just in time as Leov stomped down with her boot. The Mistress tried to lift her foot for a second strike, but the heel was caught in a sticky substance on the flatcar. Steed smiled; it was Leo & Buzzer's Golden Syrup.

Using a scissors kick to send Leov back to the floor, Emma regained her feet and straddled Leov's back. Steed breathed a sigh of relief to see her in control; then suddenly, Leov flipped over and tossed Emma away.

Before her opponent could rise, Mistress Leov had swooped in, trapping Emma's neck between her thighs in a vise of leather. Steed's eyes widened in alarm as he saw Mrs. Peel clawing for release. She might have only a few seconds of consciousness left. He suddenly remembered he still had his bowler. With a single motion, he whipped it from his head and hurled it at Leov's face.

The distraction proved to be just enough. The Mistress lost her balance, and Emma snaked her hands in between Leov's ankles. Summoning all her remaining upper-body strength, Emma levered her wrists outwards. Leov's feet flew wide apart, releasing Emma's neck from strangulation. Instead of scampering away, Emma bucked forcefully upward, butting the back of her head into her adversary's abdomen. Mistress Leov doubled over with a grunt.

Emma grabbed both of the woman's ankles and pulled, pitching Leov forward, flat onto her face. Quickly jumping astride the Russian's back and facing rearward, Emma grabbed Leov's legs under her armpits and pulled. The crab hold painfully stretched Leov's quadriceps, but more importantly, it allowed Emma to remove the stiletto-heeled boots from her opponent's ankles. She stripped them off one at a time and tossed them over the side of the flatcar.

Steed waited as they landed next to him, gathering the boots to use as a weapon of last resort. Emma flashed him a brief smile, and he knew that he wouldn't be needing them. Now that Mistress Leov had been defanged, he was confident that Mrs. Peel would be victorious.

Mistress Leov's whole lower body had been lifted from the surface of the flatcar by the crab hold, and the only purchase she could gain was to use her hands against the floor. Straining her biceps and forearms, she lunged and managed to twist sideways, throwing Emma from her perch. Leov immediately jumped to her feet, but Emma's stretch move had done its work; she teetered unsteadily as she tried to stand, undoubtedly from the burning pain in her thighs, and she was unable to launch any kicks.

Leov became a wild animal, lurching forward and biting at Emma's shoulder. The leather was just thick enough to prevent her teeth from penetrating, and Emma remained composed as she threw a rising punch, aiming at a spot just beneath and between the pendulous breasts. Her fist connected solidly with the Russian's solar plexus, and Mistress Leov backed off with a gasp. Emma closed in and grabbed Leov's thick, braided ponytail and tugged her head downward, at the same time slamming a knee into the pit of her stomach.

It was over. Emma dropped into a crouch and executed a foot sweep to send Leov to the floor; then she crawled over to the prone Mistress and used her forearm to administer a sleeper hold, maintaining it until she was sure that the killer was unconscious.

Emma remained seated on Leov's back for a minute, panting heavily from the exertion of the fight. Then she rose and approached Steed.

"I'm not her," Emma said, as much to herself as to him.

"No, Mrs. Peel," Steed said with a cryptic smile. He leaned in and brushed a strand of auburn hair from her face. "I know exactly who you are."

"Thanks for not interfering," she continued. "This was something I had to work out on my own."

"Interfere?" Steed said jovially. "You two were going at it like wolves. If I had stepped in, I would have been torn to shreds."

Emma bent over with her hands on her knees and caught her breath. "I'm just getting warmed up," she offered cheerily. "I don't suppose you've seen The Ladja anywhere?"

Steed smiled. "He got swept away by a tide of Leo and Buzzer's."

Emma suddenly recognized the sticky stripe down the middle of the flatcar. "The golden syrup?"

Steed nodded. "Perhaps it will sweeten his disposition."

"He fell off the train?" she asked.

"Like Moriarty over the Falls, but it might not have been fatal."

"And you didn't follow him?"

Steed grinned. "It came as a surprise. The train was going rather fast. Are you chastising me for my failure?"

Emma wrinkled her mouth. "No," she relented. "It's just that I was looking forward to capturing him personally."

"He seems to have an attraction to you and I," Steed commented.

"Probably because we've sunk his plans so many times."

"Yes; I'm sure that's it."

Emma smiled distantly. "At the risk of sounding like Mistress Leov, I would take special pleasure in hog-tying him."

"Speaking of which, I've been ordered to take you to the Ministry, bound and trussed up like a Christmas goose," Steed said cheerfully.

Emma arched an eyebrow and defiantly planted her feet apart. "Do you think you would be sufficient to the task?" she said evenly.

Steed grinned. "Alternatively, if I found you were truly KGB, I was instructed to kill you."

Emma snorted. "Those ungrateful wretches! It's fortunate that my opinion of them is already so low that their judgments mean nothing to me. Still, I hope you can dissuade them from sending anyone in pursuit. I'd hate for them to lose any good agents." She gave him a wicked smile. "Starting with you..."

"I know better than to do battle with you, Mrs. Peel," Steed smiled back. "I'll explain to the Ministry that you were engaged in an independent undercover operation against The Ladja. Now that we have the Zagadka, all will be forgiven." He offered his hand to help her off the flatcar onto the gravel ballast. Emma gave a hop down and landed in his arms. They walked together into the light from the nearby factory.

"Next time you plan to die, give me some warning," she said.

"I'm not sure I can pull the trick again," Steed answered wryly. "The whole thing hinges on a trigger thought, a scenario which enables one to embrace death."

"What was yours?" she smirked. "Life without champagne?"

Steed wore a serious expression. "Life without you."

Emma reddened at the sudden revelation.

"Ha! Got a blush out of you," Steed teased. He gestured back toward the diesel locomotive. "We need to see if there's a way to reverse this engine. Something important is waiting for us back there under several hundred gallons of Leo and Buzzer's."

Emma nodded and set her mouth in determination. "The Ladja," she affirmed.

"No, my brolly," Steed grinned. "A gift from my great-aunt."

-oOo-

Steed carefully studied the layout of the pieces on the black-and-white checked board. Mrs. Peel played chess the same way she fenced, the same way she fought. Placid and cool on the exterior, but hiding an aggression that could be disconcerting once you found yourself on the floor with her foot on your neck. She looked at him with a wry smirk and brushed a strand of auburn hair from her face.

"Your bishop is exposed," she said.

Steed's eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?"

"Just trying to help. You seemed lost for a moment."

"The bishop is an important part of my strategy," he said with a wounded expression.

Emma nodded seriously. "I'll never be able to play chess again without thinking about him."

Steed looked puzzled. "My bishop?"

"No," she said evenly. "The Ladja. I'm sure I haven't seen the last of him."

"No ordinary man could have survived a fall from a train going that speed," Steed remarked.

"He's no ordinary man," she countered. "His body was never found."

"The tracks were running close to the Thames at that point," Steed offered. "The body could have been swept right into the river. Probably turn up on some distant shore."

"How would we know? Who can identify him?"

"Marina, in Swansea," Steed replied. "Also, I saw his face, briefly."

Emma snorted. "I'm not sure your eyewitness account is any too reliable. Didn't you say he looked like you?"

"A bit." Steed moved his bishop at last. "Check."

Emma moved her black rook. "It's a pleasure to sacrifice you."

"Me?"

"No. I was talking to my rook."

"Why do you always let me play white, Mrs. Peel?" He advanced his queen to take her rook.

"To give you the advantage of the first move. It doesn't seem to help," she teased. With the white queen out of the way, Emma easily cornered Steed's king. "Checkmate," she said smugly.

Steed winced as he studied the board for a moment. Emma went to the liquor cart and refilled her wine glass, then Steed's. She carried them over and curled up next to him on the couch.

"Would you really die without me?"

"My guru has seen to that," Steed declared. "Of course, I could always have her reverse the procedure."

Emma's eyes flashed. "Her? Your guru is a woman?"

Steed smiled and gazed in the distance. "Lovely Narayana from Bombay. Did I mention she was flexible?"

"Ah," Emma parried, "but can she do this?" She scooted over so they were cheek-to-cheek, then skillfully interlaced her arm through his in a lover's knot as they lifted their glasses together. Then she pressed her glass to her lips and drank without spilling a drop.

Steed looked deep into her eyes and sipped his own wine.

"You're the only woman I want doing that, Mrs. Peel."

-oOo-