Two for the Money

by euhal allen

conclusion

In the secure room upstairs the Yung Lo listened carefully to his assistant, Ting En Lai, and the communications received from the Institute of Philatelic Science and its chairman, Sir Rupert Ollney.

“These imbeciles think that our prisoners, a shallow woman and a disreputable tramp, are important to the Martio-Jovian Philatelic Society? How can this be so?

“Probably, Your Excellency, because it is Sir Rupert who is in charge. His institute is, as you, Sir, well know, is a pitiful excuse for a serious pursuit. He has been fooled any number of times by the Martio-Jovian people, and revenge on those who made him look foolish has become an obsession.

“He also thinks that we have no real knowledge of our own. He offers us a very insignificant collection of specimens from the Hundred Flowers campaign. A collection, I might add, that we have several duplicates of and find too unimportant to display.”

“Still, Ting, you will pursue these contacts and find out what this Sir Rupert Ollney really wants. We may find a way to take advantage of the situation.”

* * *

Sitting on the toilet — the only spot in his cell that wasn’t covered by the cameras — Charlie carefully unfolded one of the tissues and pressed its blue contents into the dirty patch on his pants where he had earlier rubbed in the material from under his fingernails.

Then, removing his belt buckle from his belt, he scraped as much of the combination as he could from his pants and placed it back on the tissue. Following that, he proceeded with the same steps on the other two tissues he had saved.

Carefully now, he rolled each of the tissues just enough to make sure that each set of contents had three or four layers of dry tissue between them and the rest of the tissue.

Putting two of them down, Charlie put three drops of water on the outside of the rolled part and then rolled the whole thing up and folded it into a tight little capsule. Dipping the capsule down in the water in the toilet, he compressed the capsule until it would just fit into the hardened fabric tube.

Moving over to the door, the tube concealed in his shirt, he yelled across the hall at the still noisy Sidris, “I hope they shoot you!”

Sidris immediately began to scream at him and throw a raging tantrum — a scene well enjoyed by the guards in the screening room up the hall.

Waiting just as long as he could, Charlie finally retrieved the tube from his shirt and, putting it to his mouth, took aim at the floor just inside the open screening room door, and blew as hard as he could.

The little capsule shot down the hallway and, hitting the target, bounced into the room and skid across the floor to the opposite wall, where it broke.

* * *

Sidris, seeing that the shot had been made continued her tantrum for only a minute or two more, and then, exhausted, sat on the cot for a very brief rest. The absolute silence of the prison level was a welcome relief from the cacophony — mostly hers — of the last couple of days.

Then she got up and went to her cell door and said, softly, “Next time the noisy part is yours.”

Charlie, stuffing another of the tissue packs between the door and the doorframe, said, just before he tossed some water on the pack, “They would never believe it of someone who looks like me. It can only be a crazy white woman who acts like that.”

Water applied, Charlie backed a safe distance away and waited for the hissing sound and the blue flame around the lock to end and the door to open. And, seconds later, that having been accomplished, he slipped out of his cell and quickly went to the screening room. The guards, all sleeping contentedly in various and awkward positions, were searched and the one with the keys to the cells was dragged back to Sidris’ cell.

Removing the keys from the guard’s belt, Charlie unlocked the cell door and dragged the guard inside, where, in only a short time the guard, sans uniform and bound and gagged, continued his sleep under the blanket on the cot. And, Sidris, now uniformed, stepped out of the cell and locked the door.

Soon she was helping Charlie bind and gag the other two guards — one sans uniform — who were now in what had been Charlie’s cell. One was placed under the covers of Charlie’s cot while the other fit nicely underneath next to the back wall.

That taken care of, Charlie used the final tissue packet and some scrap metal to make a small weld between the now closed door and its frame, assuring that the cell would not lose it occupants easily.

Soon, two uniformed guards were casually climbing up the stairs to the floors above.

* * *

Up in the Prime Chamber, the Yung Lo was performing his afternoon meditation when the fire alarms began to sound from the lower levels of the building. Quickly taking over the com consol, he demanded to know that what happening and why it was happening.

“Your Excellency,” came the return, “the screening room is on fire and the door is locked so we can’t get in to put it out.”

“What about our guests?”

“Their cells, your Excellency, are still locked and they seem to be sleeping in their cots.”

“What, through all this racket? Send someone into their cells and see what they are up to.”

* * *

Sidris and Charlie stepped out from behind the drapes that had hidden them during the rush of guards down the stairs.

“Now,” said Sidris, “since the guards are all down there, we can do our work up here.”

Charlie grabbed Sidris’ shoulder and, looking her sternly, asked, “What did you do?”

“Well, there was that whole pile of tissues still in my cell, and your discarded clothes, and my make-up kit, and it seemed a shame for them to go to waste. And, we wouldn’t want them to be found and examined later, would we?

“So, I just stuffed the tissues and my make-up kit into the clothes and set them under the screening room equipment. Then I poured some water on the bundle, locked the door and, before closing it, threw the keys inside the room.

“Really, Charlie, they had all kinds of disks that they had recorded of us. Surely you didn’t want them to have any more information about us that it was necessary to let them have, did you? Now all they will have is a bunch of melted plastic.”

“Very reasonable, dear. Of course, since part of our mission is to try and see what kind of allies the I Ho Ch’uan might make in future situations, we weren’t supposed to make them too angry.”

“Oh, they won’t be angry. They will admire our resourcefulness. At least I think they will.”

* * *

Quietly Sidris and Charlie slipped into the Prime Chamber and sidled around to the back end and took up positions that would allow them to hide until they could arrange to ‘have a chat’ with the Yung Lo after things calmed down a little. It was a futile gesture.

Just as the two agents got themselves into very good and very inconspicuous positions, ready to wait out the ending of the crisis downstairs, the bells and sirens started ringing again, this time all around them. Looking at each other, they got ready to be captured again, knowing that their new incarceration would be somewhat less gentle than the last.

It was then that a horde of strangely uniformed figures rushed into the room and surrounded all those at the com station and taking them prisoner.

Seconds later in walked a rather tall, thin and quite dapper man in a dark black suit and brown shoes. Smiling, he strode over to the ancient throne, until now used only by the Yung Lo, and after wiping it down with his handkerchief, sat down in it.

Sidris and Charlie again looked at one another and shook their heads. Leave it to Sir Rupert to, entirely by chance, blunder in and bring chaos to an otherwise well-planned, well-executed mission. Now, slipping further back into the darkness of the back of the chamber, they crouched down behind some of the room’s large and ancient furniture and awaited the outcome of these new developments.

* * *

As everything calmed down Sir Rupert’s man, Fenton, arrived with another group of Sir Rupert’s Rim Force herding the last of the I Ho Ch’uan guards before them. Soon all the Chinese guards were lined up against the wall and made to kneel. Afterwards, at Sir Rupert’s nod, the two thugs dragged a very angry Yung Lo over and placed him on all fours before his ancient throne and Sir Rupert’s smiling face.

“Now,” said Sir Rupert, “that stations are recognized, we shall talk. My man, Fenton, tells me that you have had the two Martio-Jovian agents prisoner here. He also tells me that, at this time, they are not to be found. I want them. I want to know what you have done with them. And I want to know now.”

Releasing the Yung Lo’s arms enough so that he could raise his body enough to look Sir Rupert in the eyes, the Yung Lo grinned and spat in Sir Rupert’s face.

Fenton, after assuring that Sir Rupert was not harmed, used his favorite tool, a seaman’s blackjack to educate the Yung Lo in the proper and mannerly ways to address Sir Rupert, thus creating a lasting and endearing relationship between the two men.

“Now,” said Sir Rupert, “we shall start again, only with a better attitude, shan’t we? My man Fenton tells me that you have had the two Martio-Jovian agents prisoner here. He also tells me that, at this time, they are not to be found. I want them. I want to know what you have done with them. And I want to know now.”

At the far wall the Chinese guards, watching the ‘Western pig’ treat their Yung Lo is such a manner, began gathering themselves together, looking for any opening to attack and stop the ugly treatment being meted out to their leader.

Against the back wall, Sidris and Charlie, now close together, began a short conference.

Sidris started the conference, “Sir Rupert wants us now.”

Charlie replied, “It would be a shame to disappoint him.”

“And,” Sidris agreed, “it would also be a shame not to let the conversation continue, only with the Yung Lo in the chair and Sir Rupert on the floor.”

“Sort of a balancing of the situation? I can see that. Shall we join the party?

“Let’s.”

* * *

Moving slowly, from shadow to shadow in the barely lit room, Sidris and Charlie were soon in position to make their entrance. And, seeing the Sir Rupert had little attention for anything but Fenton’s work with the blackjack — a show that everyone in the room seemed to be absorbed in — it took little for the two Martio-Jovian agents to make their presence known in a most dramatic fashion.

First, Sir Rupert felt a slim arm snap quickly around his neck and something cold and metallic touch his ear. It was not a sensation that he took comfort in.

At the same time, Fenton felt something hard and round in his side, and feeling it dig in deeper as he touched it, the metal exterior seemed to give him a clue that it would be a good thing to drop the blackjack onto the floor.

“You called, Sir Rupert?”

“Sidris!”

“Very good! And,” dragging down on Sir Rupert’s neck, “now I think that it is time give his Excellency the Yung Lo his throne back, don’t you? Tell your thugs to let him go. Now!”

“Do as she says.”

The Yung Lo, grasping the dropped blackjack, got to his feet and, carefully wiping the Ancient throne clean, regained his seat and began to look at a future a bit rosier than that he had just been facing.

Still, the situation was not one that was completely clear for any side. The Chinese guards were still kneeling at the wall and the Rim Force still had its weapons, making a tie the most obvious conclusion to the whole matter.

Sir Rupert, seeing the situation, said, “You can’t harm me, or my men will kill you. They have twenty weapons to each of yours. You would do good to surrender now.”

“Very astute, Sir Rupert,” Sidris answered. “Still, we know what plans you had for Charlie and me, and we would lose nothing ending everything right here with one shot or two. You can see that, can’t you?

“However, I am sure that the Yung Lo would guarantee your lives if you would just have your men leave and if you would care to become cooperative with certain goals that he may have.”

“Why,” asked the Yung Lo, “would I spare their lives after what they have done? And, why would I spare your lives? You are acting for your own self-preservation, not mine. I owe you nothing. And I have no goals that you can be aware of.”

“I am sure that you would spare Sir Rupert’s life after suitable educational arrangements, because he has something you want very much. He has managed to acquire certain items that pertain to the ‘Long March’ era and I believe that you have been searching for those very items for your institute.

“Much as Sir Rupert would love to retain those items for his Institute of Philatelic Science, he would much rather keep his head attached to the rest of his body and continue in the process of inhaling. “Isn’t that right, Sir Rupert?”

“What do you suggest that I should do to bring about this acquisition of the ‘Long March’ items?”

“Simply allow Sir Rupert’s men, with the exception of Fenton here — I believe you want to have a few words with him before he leaves — leave the building. They will have to take their weapons with them since they won’t trust your men to allow their exit without them.

“But, like your guards, they are only minor players in the game we are playing and it can do little harm to let them return to the Rim worlds that they came from.”

“You speak wisely. I will do that. Now, why should I allow you to leave also?”

* * *

Quorn Sulti proudly showed his guest around the main exhibit hall of the Martio-Jovian Philatelic Society’s massive campus. Already they had toured most of the rest of the institution and his guest had been very impressed, not only by the size of the collections but by the completeness of them.

Soon they were at the one exhibit that the guest wanted to see most, the group of China Post Zheng He commemorative stamps that has been the start of the situation just past.

“We will miss them,” Quorn said, “but they will find a more fitting home in your collection of Chinese Heritage Issues. I understand that you are going to exhibit them not too far from your lovely ‘Long March’ collection. I think that they will add much to all that you have managed to save of your people’s long and eventful past.”

“Yes, Mr. Sulti, we are most fortunate to have acquired those items at only minor costs to ourselves. It was quite generous of Sir Rupert’s Institute to donate those artifacts to our organization. And, the help of your people in bargaining for their acquisition was crucial. I believe I shall carry memories of the bargaining process with me for many years.”

“Speaking of Sir Rupert, how is he? Better, I hope.”

“Sir Rupert, it seems, developed a great aversion to bamboo after he left our care. Still, while he and his man were with us, they blossomed out in ways most interesting to see.

“Well, now that is all past and we are becoming good friends. Your contributing exhibits in the new Chung Guo wing will be of a great boon to the science of philately. And your generous offer of an exhibit area at your institute will allow us to reach your people in a manner that is most gratifying to us.”

“Yes, Mr. Sulti. We have gained wonderful new acquisitions and a gracious new partnership. It is much as your agent, and lovely daughter, Miss Sidris, said: “Little was spent and yet we received the worth of two for the money.”