Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 20
Roanapur Pursuit
by Technomad
Harry stabbed at the buttons on Dutch's cell phone as the car roared through the Roanapur streets. When he got a familiar ring, he held the phone close to his ear, muttering "Come on, come on…answer, please!"
Petunia Dursley's voice came over the air. "Bougainvillea Traders. May I ask who's calling, please?"
"Aunt Petunia! It's me, Harry! Get us Balalaika, right now! We're being chased! It's an emergency!" Harry heard his aunt gasp in horror; she had never heard him speak in that tone, and that alone told her that he wasn't joking. And even if he'd been playing a prank, he'd never, ever have dared involve Balalaika in it. He heard the click as his aunt transferred the call.
"This is Balalaika. What's wrong, Harry?"
Hearing Balalaika's warm, calm contralto, Harry felt himself relaxing. "Thank God! Dudley, Hermione and I are with the Lagoon Company, in a car headed toward the harbor on Chulalungkorn Street…no, now we're turning down Prachit Road!" The car roared into a turn, tires squealing as they fought for purchase, as people scattered to get out of the way. In Roanapur, wise people did not interfere in car chases. The criminal element that controlled the city did not appreciate such interference. "We need help! The person who's chasing us is the one who singlehandedly tore up the Yellowflag and outfought a bunch of the Manisalera Cartel's men! She's right behind us and not about to give up! She seems to be after Garcia Lovelace! Garcia's here in the car with us!"
"Good boy! Stay with young Master Lovelace, and I'll be there as soon as I can!" With that, the line went dead, but Harry felt better. Balalaika was on the way!
Behind them, the maid's car stayed right on their tail, implacable and determined. Harry occasionally caught glimpses of the maid's face through the windshield, and she seemed utterly calm and detached about the whole thing. He wished he felt the same way. He longed to have Snape or Dumbledore there to help out.
Dudley and Hermione were working on Revy. The Chinese-American gunsel was out cold, pillowed in Benny's lap. "She's lost some blood, but I don't think there's any major damage, and the bullet or whatever it was isn't in the wound. However, she looks to have a concussion." Hermione felt Revy's neck. "Her pulse is strong and steady. I think she'll be all right, but I wish we had a Healer, or a Muggle MD, here to check her out."
"Keep her as still as you can," Dudley told Hermione. "I'm going to roll down the window and try to give our pursuer something else to think about!" Suiting action to words, he was soon leaning out the window of the careening car, wand in hand, firing off jinxes and hexes at their enemy.
Watching through the rear window, Harry noticed with some amusement that the maid hadn't apparently expected such an attack. The first few spells startled her, throwing her off enough that the Lagoon crew's car drew ahead a ways. Quickly, though, she figured out that the spells Dudley was firing off weren't enough to damage her or her car, and she roared right on ahead, ignoring everything that Dudley could do.
OOO
Meanwhile, at the headquarters of Hotel Moscow, Balalaika's men were gearing up. Balalaika herself chose a Stechkin pistol for her personal weapon, deciding against her Dragunov sniper rifle. The rifle was her signature weapon, and the source of her nickname, but it was very conspicuous. She and Hotel Moscow were able to operate freely mainly because they were not too obvious about what was going on. That way, the "legitimate authorities" could save at least some face. Had it been after dark, she might have done differently, but it was broad daylight.
More reports came in, from various informants on the Hotel Moscow payroll. Balalaika could follow the course of the car chase well enough to figure out where it had to end up. "Forward, comrade soldiers," she said in Russian. Obediently, her men followed her, out to where their transport awaited them. For a little while, she felt like she was back in the Army. She knew these men would follow her into Hell if she asked them to.
OOO
"Dutch! The wharves! It's a dead end!" Benny screamed. Dutch swore and hauled on the wheel, sending the car into a screaming curve. Unfortunately, the tires hit a slick patch where some fool had spilled oil, and the car spun out of control, slamming head-on into a wall. Harry, Dudley, Hermione, Benny, Garcia, and the unconscious Revy were all thrown forward into the back of the front seat, while Dutch and Rock, in the front seats, were slammed against the steering wheel and dashboard.
"Is everybody all right?" asked Rock.
"We're all okay back here, far as I can tell. Revy's still out of it, lucky for her. This can't have done her injury any good," Harry reported. He peered outside, and felt sick. The maid's car had stopped, and she was getting out of the car. She still looked completely calm, and Harry remembered the joke about her being the Terminator. Suddenly, it didn't seem funny at all. He could really feel for Sarah Connor and the other victims of Schwarzenegger's character.
The three Slytherins piled on out of the car, wands in hand. "Try a Jelly-Legs Jinx!" Suiting action to words, Harry raised his wand and cast the spell.
To his delight, it worked; the maid suddenly staggered, unable to continue. "Good shot, Harry!" Hermione screamed in his ear, grabbing him and giving him a kiss. Dudley pounded him on the back. Then they noticed that the maid had somehow managed to throw the spell off.
"You children should get out of the way," she said, her voice as uninterested as though she were discussing the election chances in a country far, far away. "You don't want to get hurt." Suddenly a .45 Government Model automatic pistol was in her hand, leveled at the trio.
"You aren't coming any further, you crazy woman!" Harry snapped. He was furious that this weird refugee from a rich man's house would dare to threaten his friends! He liked the Lagoon Company, too, even Revy. He could also see that poor Garcia was absolutely catatonic with fear, which did not argue for the maid's intentions actually being benevolent. He whipped up his wand, and Dudley and Hermione, on either side of him, did likewise. Harry muttered: "On the count of three, we petrify her! With three of us, we can do it, and while she's paralyzed, we can take that pistol off her!" Dutch and Benny overheard, and their eyes went wide with disbelief. They apparently hadn't noticed Dudley's attempts to slow the maid up earlier.
Just then, Revy woke up with a scream of rage. "Fuck! FUCK! This fucking hurts like hell! I'm going to kill that bitch!" She began scrambling out of the car, swearing an even bluer streak than she usually did. "Where the FUCK is she? She'd better fucking not be dead!"
"You're in luck," Dutch rumbled. "She's outside, still alive and kicking. The English kids are squaring off with her."
"Ohhhh no they aren't! The bitch is mine! All mine! Rock, don't you dare interfere…I'm a hair under my redline as it is! You get in my way and you'll get a nine-millimeter headache!" Revy charged up behind the Slytherin trio, shoving Harry and Hermione aside. "Okay, bitch! You think you're so damn tough, do you? Against kids? Let's see how well you do against me, when I'm ready for you!" Harry, Dudley and Hermione all scrambled to get out of the line of fire. Dudley and Harry had lived in Roanapur more than long enough to know how dangerous gunfights could be, and they dragged Hermione behind some cover that was nearby. The Lagoon crew and Garcia were also under cover, to Harry's relief.
For a few seconds, all was still. Harry could hear gulls calling mournfully over the harbor. Revy finally broke the silence. "Go ahead, senorita, draw. Or are you too shaky?"
The maid smiled contemptously. "Don't be ashamed…to be afraid, chica." With that, they both yanked their pistols free, blazing away as fast as they could pull the triggers. From what he could see, neither woman was fighting skillfully, which was unusual for Revy Two-Hands. He thought that her injury might have had something to do with that. Instead, it was spray-and-pray, or, as Sergeant Boris referred to it contemptuously, the "I-don't-care-what-I-hit-so-long-as-my-gun-goes-bang" school of gunfighting.
"Revy's well off her form," Dudley whispered. Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off the fight. Both women started running toward each other, firing wildly, until they crashed head-on into each other. They both poised their guns; at that range they couldn't possibly miss.
Just then, a familiar contralto voice called: "Ostanovityes!"
That distracted the combatants slightly, and they turned, along with everybody else, to see none other than Balalaika walking along, cool and calm, with her men behind her. More Hotel Moscow men were taking up positions on rooftops, covering everything with their rifles.
"What did that mean?" Hermione hissed, her big black eyes alive with curiosity.
"She basically told them to stop." Harry and Dudley shushed their friend, eager to see how Balalaika would deal with this situation. She was always worth watching in action; she did not often take a direct hand on the streets, but when she did, it was always quite decisive.
END Part 03
