Posted by Captain Sabrina Drake
Juanita plainly did not think that she was being followed as she made her way through the business district of Mumbai, with no attempt to double back or even look behind her. She boarded a trolley, forcing me to run to keep up. Luckily, the trolley was moving slowly through the ever denser crowds of commuters. Juanita got off near the old sewage works around the Mithi. Around here, the buildings were falling down - architecture that would have made Mumbai unique two centuries ago was lying in dusty ruins. Waste management in India, just like everywhere else, had been transformed, and this place was no longer needed. In contrast to the space-port district, where I spend most of my time in cities, which is rough and ready but teeming with life and enterprise, no-one lives here but squatters and rats. I loosened my .44 in its holster.
Juanita - young, beautiful Juanita - looked so out of place here it was almost comical. She looked around. I stayed in the shadows, cursing myself that I had gotten complacent, but she didn't make me. She put her phone to her ear. "Starchaser's still on the job," she said. There was a pause. "Yes, I know about his sister. I just spoke to her."
Another pause.
"I'm aware that she's a threat."
A longer pause.
"Are you mad?"
I almost heard the crackle of the voice on the other line.
"You're the boss. Where and when?"
The shortest pause yet.
"Got it," said Juanita, and hung up.
Another pause.
"I'm aware that she's a threat."
A longer pause.
"Are you mad?"
I almost heard the crackle of the voice on the other line.
"You're the boss. Where and when?"
The shortest pause yet.
"Got it," said Juanita, and hung up.
I followed Juanita to a bar about two miles away. I was starting to get frustrated. I hadn't learned anything we could use, only that she was rotten - which we knew anyway. Juanita went straight through the bar and out into the rear garden. I watched through the dirty window as she opened a cellar door and disappeared from view.
Maybe I was not thinking clearly at that moment, blinded perhaps by frustration and fear for my friend's safety, but I followed her down into the cellar. I had no specific plan, just the wish to confront this woman. The cellar was, of course, dark, and my eyes took a long moment to adapt.
"Captain Drake, your weapon please," said Juanita. She was pointing an automatic at my head. I was, I realised, partly illuminated by the light coming in from the chink in the doorway. I tried to stay calm.
"You can't blame me for wanting to check up on Al, Miss Junipo," I said.
"I don't appreciate being followed," she said. I squinted. Was that a covert glance at her watch?
"If you have a pressing appointment to attend, don't let me keep you," I said.
She shifted her grip on the automatic. "Your weapon, please, Captain Drake," she insisted.
I am a pretty competent gunfighter, but no-one outside of a movie attempts to draw on an opponent with a gun aimed directly at your head from a distance of less than a foot. I took out my .44 and offered it to her. The weight of it took her slightly by surprise, but not enough to give me an edge. The .32 Beretta in my left boot was not nearly close enough to hand. I had to keep her off balance, somehow.
"This way," she said, gesturing with the gun.
I obeyed. There didn't seem to be much choice. I walked through an archway in the cellar, to another chamber. This one was lit by a cheap electric lantern swinging from the ceiling, and felt damp. A fusty smell dominated the room, along with an air of rotting cloves. At the far end, a wooden door. I could hear the sounds of water lapping on the far side. This room backed onto the Mithi, or possibly onto a dock. This is where she was going to dispose of my body, I realised.
"Open it," she said.
I tried the handle of the door. It seemed loose enough, but I managed to make a play of struggling with the latch.
"I haven't got all day," said Juanita threateningly.
"That's okay, I have the rest of my life," I said lightly. I glanced up at Juanita. She was reloading the automatic!
I swung the door wide open, plunging Juanita into late afternoon sunlight, and dived straight into the welcoming arms of the river.
"You can't blame me for wanting to check up on Al, Miss Junipo," I said.
"I don't appreciate being followed," she said. I squinted. Was that a covert glance at her watch?
"If you have a pressing appointment to attend, don't let me keep you," I said.
She shifted her grip on the automatic. "Your weapon, please, Captain Drake," she insisted.
I am a pretty competent gunfighter, but no-one outside of a movie attempts to draw on an opponent with a gun aimed directly at your head from a distance of less than a foot. I took out my .44 and offered it to her. The weight of it took her slightly by surprise, but not enough to give me an edge. The .32 Beretta in my left boot was not nearly close enough to hand. I had to keep her off balance, somehow.
"This way," she said, gesturing with the gun.
I obeyed. There didn't seem to be much choice. I walked through an archway in the cellar, to another chamber. This one was lit by a cheap electric lantern swinging from the ceiling, and felt damp. A fusty smell dominated the room, along with an air of rotting cloves. At the far end, a wooden door. I could hear the sounds of water lapping on the far side. This room backed onto the Mithi, or possibly onto a dock. This is where she was going to dispose of my body, I realised.
"Open it," she said.
I tried the handle of the door. It seemed loose enough, but I managed to make a play of struggling with the latch.
"I haven't got all day," said Juanita threateningly.
"That's okay, I have the rest of my life," I said lightly. I glanced up at Juanita. She was reloading the automatic!
I swung the door wide open, plunging Juanita into late afternoon sunlight, and dived straight into the welcoming arms of the river.
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