Thank you for all your reviews - I can't believe I've made it past the 100 mark! Was worried you wouldn't like the last chapter, but thankfully, no harsh words (yet!). I'm writing a lot at the moment so the story is motoring on. I'm a bit worried that I'm supposed to be working towards some sort of climax, and yet I keep finding more things to add to the story! I've also just finished the last Cuba chapter, so the story will be moving to another continent soon.
The carnival was loud, crowded, and filled with people dancing and singing along loudly to the music. It appeared to be mainly filled with locals, beautiful bronzed people with dark curls that moved with a passion to the music while the slightly reserved and confused tourists hovered at the fringes, wondering how they could join in, and more importantly, should they?
Ashleigh was swept along swiftly, caught in the current of the dancers and the music, and if anyone noticed that she kept looking back over her shoulder, no one mentioned anything. Ashleigh smiled, and nodded politely, and managed to evade the hands that tried to entice her closer, tried to pull her into the dance, dodging the invitations lightly and nimbly.
She would be followed, she knew that, and when she caught a glimpse of a leather jacket, she felt a cold sweat break out on her skin.
She had been stupid, no doubt about that. She was too out of practise for this, it had been too long. And yet she had still decided that she could cope with manipulating her way into a dangerous situation and facing a pair of known arms dealers by herself and thinking that she would be able to flirt her way out of any awkward situation.
She was too old for all of this. Especially the flirtation. She had been married for six years. She wasn't sure she still had the ability to flirt. She managed a weak smile to herself. It fell immediately. The image of the old man's body would stay with her for some time. She guessed that he had been the Huang that Wade had told her about. Wade had been kind about the old man, and Ashleigh had guessed that actually, he had had a lot of respect for the man, even if they were on opposite sides.
It was something she had learnt from her career. You could sometimes end up liking your enemies. They weren't all archetypical villains, or down and out thugs, sometimes they were just people scratching a living in a somewhat illegal manner. Even the ones who had done terrible things could come across as being charming, intelligent, fascinating people.
Sometimes you fell in love with them.
And sometimes, you really wished you hadn't.
Ashleigh felt the crowd getting closer, pressing in around her, and she took several deep breaths. She didn't like large groups of people, even though there was safety in numbers, she felt cramped, short of air, and verging on panicking. She couldn't make out anything behind her, couldn't see individuals, just a blurring mass of colour. Who knew where the pair in the leather jackets were?
A hand groped at her waist and she jerked away, snarling viciously at the owner of the wandering hand. 'Back off. Or you'll get more than a slap in the face.'
The man continued to leer at her, his hand snaking around her. He encountered cold metal, and Ashleigh saw him blanch visibly beneath his sallow skin. 'Back off, now,' she repeated coldly.
He did.
The crowd was thinning out now, and moving into a larger area. From the smell of salt in the air, Ashleigh guessed they were close to the sea, but there were other smells too, of fried food, and cigarette smoke tinged with a hint of something slightly less legal than tobacco. Bright lights were ahead, as well as coloured tents, small, painted huts and large, loud mechanical rides.
The carnival was becoming a fairground. The people were dispersing, disappearing towards rides, food stalls, still dancing to the music. Ashleigh glanced quickly around. The fair was vaguely organised in aisles, long corridors lined with stalls and the small wooden shacks. Voices called and shouted from every angle, it was organised chaos.
Teenagers giggled and kissed in front of her, moving in packs of at least ten, the music seemed louder than ever, and the bright lights from the rides and the vividly coloured electric lanterns that were draped from pillar to post blinded her for a moment.
She stumbled forward, suddenly disorientated. She prayed that she was far ahead of anyone who might be after her, it would be far too easy for that anyone to creep up on her right now.
It was the last place she expected to be. That morning she had been held in a secret American base, yesterday she had watched the murder of the partner who had been assigned to her.
It was surreal. Too surreal. It seemed like there was a metal band around her head, slowly being tightened, creating a godawful headache. She stumbled forward, knowing that the best course of action was still to lose herself in the crowd. There was no point in being an easy target. With this thought, she pushed forward into the nearest group of people and headed down one of the rough aisles.
If she ignored the smell of friend sea food, there was a chance she might not throw up.
A sharp bony hand suddenly clamped onto Ashleigh's shoulder, and lost as she was in the swirl of bright lights and the music, Ashleigh came close to crying out in fright. She turned, one hand already reaching for the alien one gripping tightly onto her, hoping to pry it off. She only just managed not to reach for her weapon. Swallowing hard, Ashleigh found herself staring into a pair of cruel, watching blue eyes.
The fortune teller had picked out the young woman as she had fought her way through the crowd, stumbling through the lines of tents and stalls, always searching, always looking as if she wanted to find something, and the fortune teller, Karina, felt as if she could tell her.
'You. You come with me,' she ordered, trying to drag Ashleigh into the nearest tent, a gaudy affair made of purple fabric and crudely stitched gold moons and stars.
Ashleigh took one look at the wild staring eyes, the dark red gypsy skirt and the ragged headscarf tied around the woman's hair and decided that no, actually, this would be a really bad idea in normal circumstances let alone in her present situation. She tried to prise the woman's hand away but the fortune teller's grip was stronger than Ashleigh could have guessed and as Ashleigh tried to pull away, it clenched even tighter. 'I'm sorry, but no,' Ashleigh said firmly. 'I really don't have the time for this.'
Her protests were ignored as the woman seemed to look her up and down. 'You come, and you will learn,' the fortune teller said, as if that decided the matter.
Ashleigh stopped trying to prise the hand off. She stared at the woman, and a chill travelled the length of her spine as if someone had just walked over her grave. 'I can't…' she tried once again, but it sounded feeble even to Ashleigh's ears.
A sudden movement in the crowd caught Ashleigh's attention and in the distance, she saw a dark man wearing a leather jacket trying to force his way past a strolling couple. Ashleigh glanced down at the fortune teller, and made her decision.
'Okay,' she said softly.
The fortune teller nodded as if she had never doubted Ashleigh's decision. She pushed the flap of the tent over, and gestured for Ashleigh to enter first. Ducking to avoid the string of fairy lights that marked the entrance, Ashleigh found herself in the tent.
In the small space the thick smoke of incense was thick and shrouding making Ashleigh's eyes water. The room was filled with what she could only presume were fortune telling artefacts, including a grubby, finger print smudged crystal ball and far more disconcertingly, what appeared to be a real human skull with a candle stuck to the crown of it. For a moment, Ashleigh thought she had stumbled into a bad movie.
'Sit.'
A long bony finger was pointed at a rickety chair, placed in front of an equally rickity and unstable looking table. The navy tablecloth was stitched with silver thread, making a strange, ornate pattern. As Ashleigh stared at it, she realised it was a map of the night sky. Instinctively she sought out the Pole Star, running her finger over the delicate guiding star, almost obliterated by one of the many burn holes that littered the cloth.
The fortune teller, Karina, sat gracefully opposite Ashleigh. She could have been anything from her late thirties to her mid seventies, it was just impossible to tell. In her hands were a battered pack of cards, dog eared and yellowed from age and use. She shuffled them with practised ease, they seemed to dance and flow between her hands.
Karina slid them across the table. 'Cut them.'
With a confidence that belied how she was feeling, Ashleigh cut the pack, aiming roughly for the middle of the pack, creating two piles of the table cloth.
The two packs were shuffled.
'You must understand,' Karina murmured in a low voice, as the cards were once more merged, and the dancing shuffle resumed. 'I do not control the cards. The cards are the ones that speak the future, I can only interpret what I see.'
'The Major Arcana,' As the cards formed a familiar shape on the table, Ashleigh dredged up the term from her school days when a girl in her dormitory had read fortunes by torchlight in the dead of night.
'You have the gift?' Karina asked sharply.
'No,' Ashleigh shook her head, then added defiantly. 'I don't believe in all this, I'm not superstitious at all.'
'You say that now,' Karina sneered. 'Take a card.'
Ashleigh did as she was told until five cards lay in front of her. She tried to bite back the snarl that sprang to her lips that this was all nonsense, all hokum designed to con the vulnerable out of their money, those desperately seeking hope and who would rather look to the random fall of a pack of cards than seek it out with their own hands.
'Turn them over.'
The atmosphere seemed to draw in around her, the incense threatened to choke her, to fill her lungs until she could do nothing but bolt in fear from the tent. With a hand that was threatening to shake she lifted the first card, and threw it to the table.
Karina and Ashleigh stared at it.
A naked couple were entwined on the card, the woman's curves wrapped around her partner's sinuous muscles, her long dark hair flowing around them, tying them to each other in silken knots. The woman's eyes were closed in ecstasy, her lips parted, her head tilted back to reveal the vulnerable, delicate skin of her throat. The man's eyes were narrowed, in lust, Ashleigh thought at first, but as she stared, the man's face seemed to take on a cruel countenance. His hands were close to the woman's exposed throat, and suddenly, it seemed as if he was reaching to choke her, not to embrace her.
'The Lovers,' Karina declared, quite unnecessarily. Ashleigh jumped slightly, she had been too involved in staring at the card. Karina noted the slight movement, and paused, but finally she continued. 'The card means choice. Or decision. You face difficulties in whatever path you choose.'
Ashleigh tried not to snort with derision. It was such a general reading that even Ashleigh could have given a competent performance as a fortune teller. Karina watched carefully, noting the dark scowl on the younger woman's face.
'There is a man…' Karina continued, with only a flicker of displeasure at Ashleigh's attitude.
'Don't tell me,' Ashleigh sighed. 'A tall, dark, handsome stranger is about to enter my life.'
Karina frowned thoughtfully. 'Not one man, but two. You have two men in your life. One is dark, as you say, the other light. One dark, one blond. One you love, the other is your lover. You seek your lover.'
Ashleigh looked up in surprise, but checked it quickly. 'Do you say that to all the women who visit you?'
'It is true for you. I'm right, aren't I?' The mystic tone Karina had been adopting slipped slightly.
'You get all that from a single card?'
'I have… other gifts, beyond the tarot.'
Ashleigh suppressed a sudden shudder. She was strangely unnerved by this woman, and she couldn't think of a reason why.
'Another card,' Karina directed.
A small man was dancing along what appeared to be a country lane, a stick with bells in one hand, a coloured hat on his head, also tipped with bells. He had a manic, psychotic grin on his face, a grin that didn't meet his cold grey eyes. There was also something menacing in the way he was brandishing the stick.
'The Fool,' Karina tapped the card lightly, almost lovingly. 'The Fool dictates fate. He is also a symbol of luck. When he is not inverted, it means that fate will help you in your quests, that luck is on your side. It is a good card to have,' Karina said, trying to appease, but there was an uneasiness in her tone that made Ashleigh look up.
'And another,' Karina said quickly.
It was an involuntary reaction, but as Ashleigh turned the card over, she jerked her hand away with a low, frightened hiss. She cradled her hand, as if it had been burnt just by touching the card.
A skeleton robed in black dominated the card, silver, sharpened scythe in hand, and red pupils glaring from empty eye sockets.
'It is not what you think,' Karina tried to reassure. 'It does not mean literal death, it can mean rebirth, a new start, it does not mean death…'
Her voice trailed off, and she too stared at the card, a puzzled expression on her hawk like face. 'It does not always mean a true death…'
'But this time?' Ashleigh picked up on the uneasiness in the other woman's voice. Hysteria was beginning to creep in round the edges of Ashleigh's subconscious, and she stared at the cards in mounting horror.
'Turn another card,' Karina muttered dully.
'No!'
'You cannot stop there, you will not get a true reading,' the fortune teller insisted, but there was no conviction to her protest.
'Tell me,' Ashleigh demanded. 'Tell me what it means.'
Karina stared at the younger woman for a moment. 'You want to know?' she hissed.
'Yes!' Ashleigh fought to stop herself knocking the table over. Anything to remove the cards from her sight.
'You really want to know?' Karina repeated, her clawlike hands bunching into fists. 'Death comes for you. You're a fool in love and your lover seeks your death. The cards tell me this, I can feel it in the air around us and I know it as surely as I know my own name. Death is coming to claim you. And he will come soon.'
This time the table did go flying as Ashleigh stumbled to her feet. 'No. Not Alec.
'Alec? That is your lover's name?'
'My husband,' Ashleigh muttered, backing into a corner, suddenly terrified of the older woman, feeling as if the entire night was willing to turn on her and would attack any moment.
The fortune teller scrabbled round on her hands and knees, gathering together her precious cards. 'Be careful of him,' she said suddenly, looking up at Ashleigh. Her accent slipped, the mysticism went and instead a Bronx accent warned Ashleigh that her husband was trying to kill her.
It was too much. Reaching for her wallet, Ashleigh fumbled with it, ripping out a twenty dollar note. She threw it onto the now upright table and backed away, through the folds of the tent until she was once more into the night and the lights and the music of the fair.
She ran through the crowds, not seeing, not hearing, not understanding, simply knowing that she had to keep moving. Glancing up, she saw the moon was beginning to set, and she glanced up into the now dark sky, the Pole star mocking her with its brilliant presence. Following its guidance, she headed north.
A shout behind her drew her attention, and she realised she had been careless. She turned, and in the distance, she saw the younger Huang brother. He was gesturing frantically towards her, turning back towards whoever was following him, most likely his brother.
She realised the crowd was thinner here, almost gone, and looking around realised she had reached almost the end of the fairground. There was nothing this end except for a hut, larger than most of the others, and decorated in vivid orange and blues. Sliding around the corner of it, she discovered a door, and to her delight, that door was open.
Inside it was dark, muted, and for a confused moment, Ashleigh thought she had stepped into a crowded room.
She was surrounded by mirrors. She was in a House of Mirrors.
She crept cautiously forward, fascinated by the way her reflections moved with her, surrounding her, as if there were an army of her there to support her. There were endless images of herself, all projecting the same anxious, tense expression that she knew was plastered on her own face. She kept heading into the building, trying to work out what direction she was supposed to walk in, but knowing that she had to go further in to have a decent chance of concealing herself.
From the Huang brothers. From whoever was out to kill her.
The click of a safety being removed made her jump, and she saw the action repeated instantly by thousands of her.
The urge to call out was desperate, but instead she kept silent. Let whoever was in there with her speak first. Her hands edge towards the waistband of her shorts, where in the small of her back was concealed a small pistol.
Ideal for close contact work.
She risked another step forward, reaching the end of a narrow corridor. She rested for a moment against the cool glass, and then glanced quickly around the corner. Empty. Could she have imagined the sound? Could she have heard in it the distance. But the raised hairs on the back of her neck told her differently.
She heard a footstep, and she knew for sure. One person. Her versus them. This time she turned the corner, her gun ahead of her, prepared to fire.
Again, nothing. She stepped forward, cautiously, making her way down the corridor.
It opened out into a large chamber. She was surrounded by mirrors, but there was no reflection, nothing but darkness. She turned around and around, not understanding why, knowing that it was some sort of trick, some sort of magic with angles that meant she couldn't see herself, but the very air seemed thicker here, the darkness seemed heavier, and she felt it beginning to wrap around here.
Movement behind her made her turn again.
She was surrounded. A figure in a dark suit was reflected all around her, the same man, infinite images.
She drew back the safety on her weapon.
She was hypnotised by him, transfixed by him, taking in the blond hair, the tanned, scarred skin, the cruel green eyes watching her from every angle.
She raised the gun to eye level.
'Show yourself,' she finally called. 'Now!'
Alec Trevelyan stepped forward, his own gun raised, aimed directly at his wife's head.
'Hello darling,' he said coldly.
