Monty's Master – Part 8

It was already past midnight in India when they arrived at a tiny airport in a seaside town whose name Monty couldn't quite pronounce.

"It's Nagaghati, it means Valley of the Snakes," Perry said.

"Ah, then this must be it," said Monty.

Perry walked over to a rack of brochures for available hotels in the area and picked up the most ancient-looking one of all.

"Do you think that's where he went?"

"Only one way to find out," Perry said. "Let's find us a taxi."

"Okay, but first can we go to the gift shop?" Monty asked, pointing to a window display full of colorful masks and long shawls.

"When I said we'd have to become tourists, I didn't mean—"

"You also said we had to recreate the Doctor's exact steps," Monty cut him off. "How do you know he didn't go into that exact shop right after he landed at the airport?"

"Oh please, Doctor Bringdown is an antique lover and an expert on authenticity. He certainly wouldn't have wasted his time on some cheap imitations."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. We might need some local outfits though so we can blend in better with the crowd."

"Awesome! So we're going shopping!" Monty said, tugging at his hand.

A few minutes later, Perry was trying to guess Monty's shirt size while the latter was busy shaking snow globes and playing with porcelain elephants.

"Look what I found!"

With no other warning, Monty blew into a white bamboo flute, causing the woman behind the counter, who was clearly working way overtime, to glare at them, and Perry to grit his teeth and clutch in his hand the sleeve of a long button-up shirt.

"It's exactly like the one in Mr. Fletcher's book! You know, like the one the princess used to control the snakes!"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure the princesses' flute wasn't made in China," Perry read the label. "Besides, you don't even know how to use it."

"Do you?"

"I prefer stringed instruments."

Monty glanced at a sitar leaning against the wall.

"Don't even think about it," Perry said.

"Oh, come on. I'd love to hear you play sometime!"

"Only if there's a life and death situation."

"Is this going to be your answer to everything?"

"Maybe. Now come here, I need you to try this on for me," Perry said, holding up an emerald-green jacket.

"I don't know, doesn't really seem like a life and death situation to me." But at the look Perry gave him, he hastily added, "Hey, look, there's no one using the fitting room! I'll just... be right over there!"

The people of Nagaghati seemed to have quite a lively nightlife. Hundreds of multi-colored lights reflected in the windshield, and even though traffic was restricted on most of the streets, they still managed to see food stands and stuntmen in colorful costumes and masks every time they passed an intersection.

Monty had been particularly impressed by a dance that involved both fighting and sword juggling.

"Wow, how cool is that! Do you think they sell that at the gift shop?"

"Ah, Americans..." said the taxi driver.

Perry let out a soft sigh. "Is it really that obvious?"

"Eh, only if you've got ears to hear. Let me give you a tip; stay on the light side at night. These festivals may seem pretty to you, but they are quite a waste. And believe me, you wouldn't want to find yourself alone in a dark corner, not even during daylight."

"Why? What are they celebrating anyway?" Perry asked.

"Why, the Snake King, what else?!"

Perry and Monty looked at each other.

"Every year the festivities attract more and more tourists, but let's just say not all locals are as thrilled about it."

Perry looked out the window. Somewhere, in the far distance, a firework had begun, snaking and hissing across the inky sky before erupting in thousands of sparks above the dark rooftops. It didn't really take a genius to know where those people were coming from.

"And one more thing," said the driver, turning her head to them, "be careful what you eat, I heard you Americans have pretty sensitive stomachs."

"Hm, noted," said Perry with a knowing smile.

The taxi stopped in front of a palm-lined alley, and the moment Perry poked his head out, he could also sense a faint apricot scent.

It looked more like a small, brightly colored palace than a hotel, and it sure didn't look anything like an evil lair. But he supposed the night was still young. The hotel guests certainly seemed to think so, because the restaurant downstairs was chockfull of people.

The rustic flair was evident in the curtains and tablecloths woven in every imaginable pattern and color, the small wooden benches covered with large soft cushions, and the miniature paintings that decorated the walls, most of which depicting the vast Indian jungle and its unique inhabitants. It was quite cozy, actually, but despite the warm light of the sandalwood-scented candles, Doctor Bringdown was hard to identify.

He seemed to have had the same idea. He was dressed in a long ginger robe, wearing leather chappals, and had even let his beard grow so that he matched his table companions. They seemed to be engaged in a very captivating discussion in Hindi, but Perry couldn't quite catch what they were saying anyway.

They sat at a table in a far corner concealed by the fronds of a potted palm tree, where Monty kept picking at his food. At least he had the presence of mind to ask for the least spicy dish he could order, but to his great disappointment, palak paneer turned out to be nothing more than pureed spinach.

Doctor Bringdown pointed at a snake mural which caused one of his companions to frown and lower his voice.

"Can I have one of yours?" Monty asked, pointing his fork at the shrimp masala in front of Perry, which stood completely untouched.

Perry waved a dismissive hand, without shifting his eyes from their target.

Monty picked up a shrimp and took a small bite before his face turned all shades of red and he started gasping for air.

"Hot! Hot!" he managed to say and reached for a carafe of mango juice which he poured down his throat, at least half of it ending up on his high collar.

"Please try not to cause another scene," Perry said, finally turning to face him and nonchalantly eating a whole shrimp.

"How can you eat that?" asked Monty whose eyes still glistened with tears.

Perry shrugged. "That's what you get when you live in a culturally diverse neighborhood and one of the few things they all have in common is that they all like potluck parties. Mexican, Indian, Japanese… I'm pretty used by now."

"Oh. I suppose that makes sense," Monty said, wiping his mouth. "Meals at my house tend to be very one-note. Dad's cooking is very dry and he's always inviting one of his boring business partners over."

But Perry stopped listening to him. He watched as Dr. Bringdown rose from the table, bowed to his partners, then headed for the door.

"Why can't we confront him directly?" asked Monty. "He's all alone now and we could easily find out which room is his, then boom! Mission accomplished!"

"Remember what Carl said, we need evidence first. And it's not that simple either. Once the seeds of the plot have been planted, we'll have to find out exactly what he's up to and how many people are in on it before we can cut it from the root."

"Are you… secretly into gardening or something?"

"I hardly see how that matters," Perry said as he casually straightened the bent tip of one of the palm fronds. "Just finish your food already! There's no point in staying here much longer."

"I think I'm done," said Monty pushing his half-full bowl aside.

Perry gave him a stern look.

"Okay okay," Monty said, quickly pulling back his bowl. "I guess it's still less plain than Dad's food."

They shared a room with twin beds almost completely covered in throw blankets, and while Monty was lamenting the lack of a TV, Perry was speaking on his phone, peeking outside from behind the curtain of the glassless window.

"A fieldtrip? So early on term?" said the voice on the end of the line.

"Yeah, it's a bonding exercise so they can get to know each other. And there were no other volunteers to go as chaperones since we had to stay overnight. Sorry I couldn't make it to the party, but it was kind of a last-minute thing," Perry said.

"Oh, don't worry, honey. You do what you think is best. You're always quick to lend a helping hand and you do very well with younger kids. I'm sure they will understand. Anyway, we'll save you some cake."

He could practically hear her winking through the phone. Perry smiled a little. "Thanks, Mom! Oh, and tell the boys I can't wait to hear all about their Civil War re-enactment when I come back."

"Ah, yes. Candace might have also mentioned something like that, but I think she might have exaggerated a bit. You know how she gets sometimes." She chuckled. "Your sister has such a vivid imagination!"

"Yeah..." Perry said with a slightly more strained smile. "I'll call you if anything comes up."

After ending the call, he sat on the edge of the bed and hung his head, heaving a long sigh.

Monty scooted closer to him and said with a crooked grin, "Wow, I sure could learn a thing or two from you, Agent P."

"Huh?" Perry looked up. "What are you on about? Your parents are already fully aware of your whereabouts."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they always have to know where I am," Monty said, wagging his eyebrows.

Perry gave him an unimpressed look. "Honestly, Monty, you're worse than a first grader."

He got up and walked to the window again, looking out at the lonely courtyard.

The smirk on Monty's face only grew larger.

"Then I'll be the first on the lookout!"

Perry turned to him. "What?"

"We can't get too comfortable with the enemy practically living next door, can't we? What if he tries something in the dead of the night and there's no one to stop him?"

"He's already been here for at least two weeks. If he wanted to do something he would most likely have done it by now, which could only mean he's planning something much bigger. All we can do for now is wait and see."

"Oh, but all we've done so far is wait," Monty said, plopping down on his bed. "I always thought night missions were supposed to be exciting!"

"Trust me, there will come a day you're going to wish you could spend more quiet nights," Perry said, rummaging in his backpack.

Monty stood up and gave him an intrigued look, just before Perry tossed him a tube of toothpaste and a brand-new toothbrush.

"Oh, come on! We're on a mission! Do we still have time for this?"

Perry narrowed his eyes.

"Okay okay!" Monty said, jumping to his feet. "Dude, how long are you gonna be doing this?!"

Perry just ushered him with his hand.

Despite his initial reservations, Monty took his sweet time in the bathroom, and when he came out, drying his hair with a towel, the only light left came from the lamp on his bedside table. Perry was laying still in his bed with his back turned to him and facing the window.

Monty ducked under his covers, trying not to make a sound, but something told him Perry wasn't really asleep this time either, and whatever he said about lookouts, those sharp eyes were most likely waiting to snap open at the slightest squeak in the floor or cracking twig.

Monty leaned to his side and whispered, "Goodnight, Agent P."

He got no answer, but as he closed his eyes, a peaceful smile rested on his face.