Chapter 2, In Full

And here's the entirety of Chapter 2. There's one thing at the end of this chapter that bothers me because I've seen it too many times on TV, especially since I wrote this awhile back. See if you can guess what it is. I'm not sure how else to do it, though, and I like how it plays out. Maybe a little cliché is okay, now and then. Tell me if you disagree, but I'm very happy with this chapter.

E4, Chapter 2

Lenara clenched a fist as Zhuriosky hung over her, his beard dribbling with alcohol. His breath made her wince and she began to exit the table booth at which they sat. Zhuriosky snatched her parka’s hood and mumbled some Russian innuendo, to which Lenara replied by jabbing him in the ribs with a fork. As the drunken Russian wobbled back in irritation, Lenara stood and straightened her parka.

“You’re paying, then?” she asked in his native language. Zhuriosky absently waved a hand. “Good,” she replied. “The prices here for mediocre swill are outrageous.”

From the bar, Vlad watched as Lenara strode away into Zhuriosky’s office. He wasn’t sure what relations there were between her and his friend or if she had the privilege of entering the office. Zhuriosky, in any case, was too drunk to object.

The few observations Vlad had made of Lenara piqued his guard. She had appeared that afternoon (and for the past few days) on foot and with stupidly few supplies. He didn’t trust her bright eyes or the dark, somewhat reddish, color of her hair. She spoke fluent Russian, but with an odd accent he couldn’t place. At least it wasn’t American. Her body was lithe and muscular with enticing enough curves - still, it had nothing on the burlier, warmer women Vlad was used to. The golden tan of her skin was a grievous anomaly, being a stark contrast to the pale complexions of Vlad’s fellow ice dwellers.

What bothered Vlad the most was that she was a woman traveling alone. It was dangerous, something rarely seen, and Vlad didn’t trust her as far as he could spit. He’d give her a few minutes’ benefit of the doubt to gather what belongings she might have in the office. Any more and he was going in after her.

***

In Zhuriosky’s office, Lenara dropped into Zhuriosky’s plush chair and furiously began picking the lock on his bottom desk drawer. If she had interpreted Zhuriosky’s inebriated drivel correctly, the Anastar ruby was kept in that location.

Lenara issued a silent cheer as the lock popped and she pulled open the maple drawer. She leafed through a stack of files with her fingernails, hoping the jewel was hidden somewhere beneath them. Her thief’s mind flitted through the methods used to conceal objects from people like her. There could be a false-bottom drawer or a book with the center cut out. She might be rationalizing her growing fear of finding nothing, but didn’t Sherlock Holmes say that the improbable was the most possible or something?

She reached the last sheaf of paper and pulled the whole pile out in disgust. There was nothing there but imported wood. Authorities would be very interested in the incriminating files she held, but Lenara was looking for what glittered.

As she stared at the empty drawer, the intuitive part of her thieving mind churned, the part that says, “What the hell? Try that last place, the one no one would ever consider.” It tapped into what a person with something to hide thought.

Lenara wrenched the drawer off of its track and placed her face near the opening. Taped to the interior of the desk was a key. She grinned and removed the fresh tape, allowing the bronze key to drop into her palm. As the tape had nigh a tinge of yellow, Zhuriosky had obviously replaced it recently. He probably fondled the jewel daily, only peeking at the ruby after his patrons had trudged off for the night.

“Now, where?” she mused out loud, twisting the key around her finger. Lenara closed her eyes and retraced what she saw during the few times Zhuriosky had taken her in the office. Each time, he had bumped open the door with his shoulder and glanced... Every time, he had stolen a glance at the floor. It had been nearly imperceptible and probably unintentional, but he had glanced there each time as if to see that something was closed. She opened her eyes and they sparkled. Lord, she loved her job.

Lenara went to the right side of the office, as that was the general direction Zhuriosky had looked. She began toying with the floor tiles, running the key along their edges. Lenara had to give him credit for finding a good spot. After all, she had only figured it out because she was looking for it.

Beautifully, one of the stone tiles popped up. Lenara gingerly put it aside and found that there was a small lockbox set into the floor. Triumphant again, she pulled it out and clicked open its lock with the key.

The Anastar Ruby looked like an eye that had been plucked from a whale made of crystal. It seemed alive, not composed of stone but glistening, red blood. It connected with Lenara’s natural desire to possess beauty and, for a moment, she felt the drive to keep it for herself. She forced herself to pull away, to blink, to disconnect. This was a job. Her employer was awaiting her, one hand held aloft to examine the ruby and the other offering a very substantial paycheck. Without him, Lenara wouldn’t be able to go on such treasure hunts.

Lenara re-approached the jewel with an assessing eye.

The Anastar Ruby had been lost to the world in 1851. It was on display in London, for the Great International Exhibition at the Crystal Palace. Held in a graceful building made of glass and framed by steel, the largest of its kind at the time, the Exhibition featured inventions that boasted of the Industrial Age and international showrooms that glamorized Britain’s imperialism. Plundered from India, the Anastar Ruby was a perfect symbol of foreign wealth. Sometime during the exhibition, the ruby vanished into the ether and attendees were left to marvel at the marble post on which it had sat. It was never seen again. The facts of the heist were very familiar to Lenara, but she didn’t know what had become of the ruby in the intervening years. She had only become aware of it being in the grubby hands of Zhuriosky because he had a big mouth. Now, though, it rested softly in her gloved hands. She smiled, and could almost hear it purr.

Lenara reached into the right side of her parka and undid the zipper of a hidden pocket. It was cushioned and would well protect the ruby. She barely had the jewel inside when the door to the office swung open and Vlad stamped in. Lenara swiftly continued tucking the ruby into her pocket in the hope that he didn’t notice. No such luck. The walrus of a man leaned against the door as he closed it and waved a finger at her.

“Bad girl,” he reprimanded, “I knew Zhuriosky shouldn’t have trusted you.”

Lenara rested her arms at her side as she poised for action. It really aggravated her when people talked down to her, but Vlad’s tone had much more amusement in it than she expected from the otherwise silent and conniving man. Lenara didn’t respond, but regarded him with a sly grin.

Vlad grunted and walked over to where the tile and lockbox were still on the floor. “So that’s where he keeps it,” Vlad said, scratching his brown beard. He nonchalantly faced Lenara, careful not to get so close as to spook her, but crossed his arms and frowned down at her. “My friend prizes that ruby. I cannot allow you to leave here with it.”

Lenara readied her knee for his crotch.

“But,” Vlad said, putting his arms behind his back, “if you give it to me, I will find a buyer and we can split the profits.”

Lenara laughed and shook her head. “You’re my kind of scum, Vlad.” She tilted her head all sexy-like and Vlad realized that she had different-colored eyes, one blue and one green. “How do I know that I’ll get my half?” she asked softly.

“Hmm,” Vlad muttered, “I see why Zhuriosky prefers you. All the women here are pale and plain. They are voluptuous, surely, but they are workhorses. Charms aside, girl, I think you only have the option I’ve given you. It involves...trust.”

Lenara nodded. “All right, Vlad, sometimes thieves have to share.” She reached into her parka’s inside pocket and pulled out a handful of ruby. At least that’s what Vlad thought it was. Lenara tossed it up and Vlad went to catch it, only realizing as it neared his hands that it was a fuzzy, pink wallet.

Lenara made the most of the distraction and threw herself onto the stocky Russian. She got a grip on his neck and swung her body around and onto his back. Vlad gasped in surprise as she tightened her arms around his throat, cutting off his air with her tight, toned arms.

“You bertchhhh...,” he gargled, his face turning red. Vlad grabbed her arms to break the hold, but her grip was insistent. He tried to flip her forward, but Lenara squeezed her thighs into his sides and crossed her legs over his waist like a praying mantis snatching her prey. Vlad began to gag and panic. He ran backwards, slamming his back and the thief against the wall. Lenara yelped, but gritted her teeth and squeezed with her total might. Vlad stumbled forward and ran back again, hitting the wall. It knocked the breath from Lenara, but she forced herself to hold the grip just a bit longer. Vlad stepped forward again, arms slowly flailing, then fell to his knees. His head lolled forward and Lenara knew she could let go.

Vlad crumpled to the floor, passed out. Lenara quickly extracted her limbs and jogged to the door, still gasping and feeling the pain in her back. She doubted he would be out long and she needed to get as far as possible before he came to. Then she realized something, went back over to Vlad and yanked her wallet from his hand.

Back in the bar, Zhuriosky was still slumped over his drink. He saw Lenara come out of the office and waved her over, but she coldly ignored him. Lenara zipped up her parka and dashed for the exit. Her boots greeted the snow with a pounding as she barreled away from the bar and into the overcast air. If only she had time to hotwire one of the snowmobiles parked outside.

Lenara ran across the snowy ice, headed like a lemming for a cliff that was about a third of a mile ahead. She was in excellent shape but the cold air she inhaled while trudging forward did a job on her lungs. She was panting by the time she reached a large rock that jutted out near the edge of the cliff. Grasping the formation, she leaned forward to look over the precipice. There was a long drop below with only the tops of trees to break her fall. She reclined against the rock and pulled off her right glove. On her middle finger was a silver ring with a black dial on top. She clicked the dial around and pressed her hand against her mouth so the howling wind would not interfere.

“Come in,” she spoke into the dial. There was a pause, then another voice crackled through a tiny speaker on the ring.

“Lenara?” the gruff male voice said.

Lenara nodded. “Yeah. I need an immediate pick-up at my drop-off location.”

The voice crackled again. “I’m close, be there in a few.”

“Hurry it up,” she encouraged. Lenara slid her glove back on and absorbed the warmth that came with it. She hung back against the rock, trying to hide herself behind an angle in the formation. Knowing what must be coming, she peeked out. Moving forward across the ice were the headlights of two snowmobiles.

Lenara cursed in Russian as the snowmobiles came fully into view. They were moving fast and there appeared to be one rider on one snowmobile and two riders on the other. Lenara tried to hide, but remembered quickly that all they had to do was follow her footprints.

The snowmobiles slowed down and halted only feet from her. Vlad, looking pretty aggravated and red in the face, stepped off of his snowmobile. Lenara noted with delight the bruises on his neck. A young and slender man she recognized as one of Zhuriosky’s pipeline workers was driving the other snowmobile. He rose and helped up Zhuriosky, who was sitting rather wobbly on the back.

“Nice evening for a ride?” Lenara asked dryly. She could have passed for a snow angel, the lights capturing her dressed all in white against the ice with the exception of her tan skin. More like a snow devil, she thought slyly.

Zhuriosky leaned against the snowmobile’s handles and squinted his grey eyes at her. “I thought you liked me,” he slurred.

Lenara shrugged. “You’re okay,” she told him, “but I had work to do.” Zhuriosky shared a hurt look with the man who was making sure he didn’t stumble over.

Vlad ground a fist into his other hand. “She is vermin, Sebastian! I caught her in the act of stealing the ruby. When, as a gentleman, I gave her the opportunity to put it back and leave your office, she held me at knifepoint and ran.”

Zhuriosky shook his head, troubled. Some recently formed crows’ feet welled up along his eyes. “Lenara, that ruby means the world to me. I beg you to hand it back. If you do, then you may go without harm.”

Vlad looked at his friend with a sneer on his face.

“No,” said Lenara, “there’s no way you’ll take it from me.” She leaned back and took a glance over the precipice. Smiling, she stepped away from the rock and balanced herself on the very edge of the cliff.

Zhuriosky went wide-eyed as he saw her wobble and waved his hands. “Nuh, no, you won’t-”

“One last thing,” Lenara interjected. “Think about how much you trust Vlad. How do you think I knew the ruby was hidden in the floorboards? And ask him how he got those marks on his neck. It sure wasn’t from loving.”

Zhuriosky shot a worried glance at his friend. Vlad just gritted his teeth and glared at Lenara. She shrugged, realizing Zhuriosky was probably too drunk to remember any of his suspicions when he sobered up.

Lenara grinned, teeth chattering in the cold. “I told you there was no way you were getting back that ruby,” she said as a matter-of-fact. Lenara then leapt up backwards and sent herself over the cliff.

Zhuriosky exclaimed sorrow and fell to his knees.

Lenara fell only about six feet into a waiting hatch. She hit a carpeted floor with a hard thump and laid sprawled face-down, awash in her parka.

From up ahead, the gruff voice asked, “Tough job?”

Lenara peered up, a satisfied grin on her face. Without a word, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the Anastar Ruby.

“Beautiful,” said the man.

“Yes, I am,” said Lenara. “Now, let’s get out of here.” As they began to move, the walls echoed a vibrating, relaxing hum. Lenara put her head back on the floor, closed her eyes and gripped the ruby tight.

Up above, Vlad snickered. “What a waste of a beautiful woman,” he mused. He laid Zhuriosky’s arm on his shoulder and helped him approach the edge of the cliff. They ventured to look down, knowing the girl could not have survived the fall. Below, however, were only treetops and snow. Zhuriosky began to shout orders to find her body but was interrupted as an aircraft shot up across the mountain to their side. The shadowy form sped away into the falling snow, making an odd buzzing noise. Vlad realized that Zhuriosky’s blurry eyes couldn’t make out the vehicle, but the craft was unlike any Vlad had ever seen.