Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 04 - Strings of Glass (15 page)

T
he
festival was mesmerizing. The sky filled with kites, like hundreds of colorful
dots swarming in your vision. When in flight their movements were urgent and
lively, but once their string was cut they fell like dead leaves, unhurried and
languid, toward the ground. The string, bright pink and dipped in a mixture of
glass and rice flour trailed the kite, draping across roofs and people. Perched
on the rooftop of an abandoned home that over looked Shah’s buildings, I
watched as a green kite drifted toward the ground, its string slicing through
the crowd beneath it. Mothers acted quickly to remove it from their children’s
hair. Friends disentangled it from each other.

And the
birds, God, the poor birds. They flew quickly and desperately, weaving between
the treacherous string and the flapping kites. They all seemed to make it until
one didn’t. A fat, grey pigeon, like the ones I grew up with, miscalculated and
tangled his delicate wings in the sharp string. He fell to the earth with much
more velocity than the lifeless kites.

Thousands
of birds died each year during Uttarayan, the Hindu name for the International
Kite Festival, which celebrates the end of winter and the approaching harvest
season. While traditionally Hindu the Kite Festival reaches across religion,
class and age groups pulling everyone into it’s revelry. Famifamllies gather on
their roofs to continue long fought, good natured, rivalries with neighbors,
cutting each other’s kites through out the day and then trying to out do each
other with fireworks late into the night.

I turned
my eyes down to the window of Shah’s house and then at my watch. Not even 3
yet. Since last night an eternity had passed. In the early light of the day
Mana had called to tell me Anita was being held in the house, in a guest
bedroom. It would take me only about 5 minutes to reach her from where I sat.
Blue waited patiently by my side, curled up in the shade with one eye open and
his ears swiveling for sounds, for a signal of some kind.

I
pictured Anita tied to a chair, blood running into her eyes. I thought about
Dan in the van maneuvering through the city, its streets almost deserted.
Everybody was on their roofs. And those who were not engaged with the kites
risked their lives. Unsuspecting people died every year from the brightly
colored string.  It would fall across their paths as they rode on their
scooters, jolting them off their mounts and slashing their throats. Amazing to
think how much damage a little string could do. 

I
glanced down into the street below me. A gray cow, chewing on a bright green
kite, its mouth dripping a slimy green trail, meandered down the narrow lane.
It paused for a moment staring into space, its jaw slack, and then took up its
chewing again.

I
checked the window again. Checked my watch. Felt cramps in my legs. Stood up
and stretched toward my toes making sure to not expose myself to Shah’s rooftop
fifty
yards away. I repeated this routine until it was almost 4. Soon they would be
getting their tea. Mana said it would take forty-five
minutes for the first one to fall.

I peered
around the parapet that kept me hidden and stared onto Shah’s roof. A young boy
ran toward the edge, his little legs unsteady on the pitched roof. His father’s
arm shot out and brought him back to his mother who picked the boy up. He
wriggled but she clucked at him until the boy rested peacefully in her embrace.

At least
forty
people spread out over Shah’s compound’s roofs. There were no railings and the thirty
degree tilt of the roof made it look dangerous. But it seemed like everyone was
having a good time. Steady on their feet, unafraid of the drop.

Shouts
of joy and revelry rose up every time a member of the party managed to cut a
kite down. Did they know that there were captors under their feet? That
children, used as sex slaves, rested their heads not far away?

I checked
my watch again—it was after 4. The guards would be drinking their tea. All
except the Bulldog, as Mana called him. I hoped he would be too busy to notice
a dozen children escaping, Anita’s release, and the
capture of his boss. Yeah, not likely.

The sun
sunk in the sky, bright and burning. I pulled my ball cap lower over my brow
and watched the roof. People climbed up and down the wooden ladder, holding
cups of chai. The guards must have had theirs. They would be feeling sleepy
soon.

I saw
Kalpesh climbing the ladder, a sheen of sweat on his brow. He laughed at
something and the ladder shook. I felt its wobbles in my gut. This plan needed
to work, I did not want to have to chase Kalpesh across these roofs. He’d been
playing on them since he was a child and would have an advantage he didn’t
deserve.

Blue
stirred by my side; standing up he stretched out
his front paws, raised his head in a massive yawn, and then pushed up against
me. I patted him, rubbing under his ears. Blue’s eyes rolled back into his
skull and one of his back legs thumped rhythmically against the metal roof.

A kite
plummeted down and hit the parapet that I crouched behind. A cheer went up,
people blew into noise makers, others stomped on the loud roofs. Looking back
over, I saw Kalpesh launching a kite. His long kurta
was blue silk today, shimmering in the sun. Fingers wrapped in white tape to
protect their sensitive skin from the sharp string, Kalpesh flicked his wrist
to launch the kite into flight. A young boy stood next to him watching with a
slack jaw, holding Kalpesh’s spool of string.

I looked
at my watch again. It was almost time. Any minute now I’d see Mana climb the
ladder and tell Kalpesh to come down to safety, that the guards were passing
out. Someone had poisoned them. Dan must be in front of the exit now, the one
that the guards were sleeping next to. It was all about to start. My heart beat
faster, Blue sensed my excitement and whined softly.

Then I
saw Mana’s dark head as he climbed the ladder. It hardly jostled under his
weight. Kalpesh’s attention was on the sky, concentrating on his kite. Mana
looked tiny on the roof, his dark suit overly formal and hot compared to the
colorful saris and casual jeans of Shah’s guests. Kalpesh did not look at Mana
when he approached. He was in a hot battle with another kite. I looked up to
see the moment that Kalpesh’s string was cut. His kite, black with a white
crescent moon design, lost its energy and floated, unhindered, toward the
ground. Kalpesh turned on Mana with a scowl.

I couldn’t
hear what either of them said, but Kalpesh’s voice was loud and aggressive. His
guests glanced over at him nervously. Mana hardly moved until Kalpesh went to
push him. Then he simply stepped out of the larger man’s way. Kalpesh stumbled
forward but Mana shot out an arm and caught him before he fell. Kalpesh jerked
his arm free and with an outstretched arm ordered Mana off the roof.

Mana
turned back toward the ladder, his face smooth and expressionless. Plan B then,
I thought with a sinking stomach. Kalpesh turned to the boy holding his spool
of string now limp and kite-less. Shah yelled something and the boy shoved the
spool into the spine of the roof and ran to where the extra kites were kept. A
woman dressed in jeans and a lovely bright pink kurta
with gold sequin trim chatted with Kalpesh while the boy did his
work. Shah’s face slowly returned to its regular color as the woman soothed
him, at one point even placing her hand on his forearm. He nodded, agreeing
with her words.

There
was still one bodyguard standing somewhere in the house. I wondered if he would
come and get Kalpesh off the roof. The old Bulldog had been with the man for twenty
years; he may have more sway then Mana. If all my security started falling
asleep I’d cut my party short, but then again I wasn’t
an egomaniacal pedophile from one of the most powerful families in Gujarat. I
didn’t actually have parties at all so this line of thinking was getting me
nowhere.

I opened
the camera app on my phone and flicked through the different angles of the
cameras inside the house, looking for the big guy. I saw hallways empty except
for slumped security men. The main interior courtyard was filled with guests.
They seemed unaware of the shift. I flicked through again, but the Bulldog
wasn’t visible in any of our cameras. In the nursery the children stood around
a sleeping guard.

I felt
eyes on me and, looking up, saw a
boy about ten or eleven staring down from a flat cement roof. He held two
kites, both already with strings. His shirt was worn but clean. I put my finger
to my lips and he nodded knowingly. The boy leapt lightly onto the next roof
and picked up a fallen kite that hung by its string from the building’s gutter.
He glanced back at me one more time before disappearing .

All
right, I thought. Now or never. Blue and I ducked back into the building. It
was old and abandoned, the ceiling
caving in and the floors dangerously brittle. I watched where we stepped,
tracing our path by the marks we’d left on the dusty ground. Climbing out a
window I stretched across a narrow space and scrambled onto one of Kalpesh’s
balconies. Blue leapt over the open space easily.

We
passed a fallen security guard as we made our way through the abandoned halls. 
Turning back, I patted the guard down. I pulled a small caliber gun out of his
shoulder holster and tucked it into the back of my pants. The man breathed
heavily, his chin rested on his chest which rose with each inhalation. Mana
said it would take six hours for them to wake up. I bet he was going to have
one hell of a headache. Blue barked and I whirled around to see a man, dressed
in a well-fitted suit, at the end of the hall.

I
figured he must be Mugloo, the Bulldog. He was massive, blocking the light from
the large window. Shit. Blue’s hackles raised as the man approached us. “I
think there is something wrong with this man,” I said.

The
Bulldog didn’t answer, he just kept coming toward me, gripping a gun in his
left hand. It was very similar to the one I’d just shoved into my pants. Blue’s
growl rose and he barked again, warning the man off. But this guy was not
afraid of Blue. As he got closer I smelled curry- scented
body odor. He was broad and bulky, dangerously large. If he hit me even once in
the right place I’d be fucked. He stopped ten paces away and smiled. I licked
my lips.

“I
think he needs medical help,” I said, trying to appear the
concerned guest. The big guy wasn’t buying it. He motioned with his gun for me
to come closer. I took a tentative step in his direction. His skin was the
color of coconut oil and almost as greasy. Sweat trickled from his hairline.
The hallway was hot, the fan above our heads still, the only sound the sleeping
man’s snores.

“The
children are already gone,” I lied. He laughed, a soft sound for a man so
large. Thrusting his chin in the air he motioned for me to come closer.
“Really,” I said. “They are gone.”

“They
don’t matter,” he said. I felt a chill run down my spine. “We can get
more.”

I nodded,
feeling the truth of his statement. Blue stayed next to me, right behind my
right knee as I approached the man. The sound of my steps was softened by thin
rug that ran the length of the hall. I slowed, still out of reach of the loyal
bodyguard, whose arms were about twice the length mine. But I must be quicker,
I thought. He couldn’t be that big and also fast. There was a door to my right,
no idea where it led, but maybe I could open it, run inside, shoot him through
the door? Didn’t sound likely. Looked like I was going to… and then I saw his
finger tightening on the trigger. The small opening of the gun was angled right
at my gut.

Taking a
page from Mana’s book I jumped up, kicking
off the door, and leapt at the big man’s head. He didn’t
see the move coming and a bullet fired down the hall, thunking into the wall. I
landed with both fists coming down hard on his neck, my body slamming into his
side. He stumbled away from the blow and bumped into the opposite wall.
Recovering quickly he swung his gun arm at me but Blue launched himself,
biting down hard and true into the bodyguard’s thick forearm.

The gun
fell almost soundlessly to the ground. The Bulldog raised his free meaty fist
and aimed it at Blue’s head. I grabbed onto it. He reversed tactics and smashed
his arm, with me attached, into the wall hard enough to rattle my brain. I
stayed clamped onto his arm, my vision spotting. He roared as Blue shook his
head hard, tearing the man’s flesh, but not
loosening his grip.

The
bodyguard slammed me against the wall again. I needed to get to my gun or his.
I needed to shoot this giant before he turned my brain to pudding. As I had
that thought he threw me off; I fell to the carpeting
and rolled out of his reach, pulling the sleeping man’s gun from my waist.
Looking up I saw the giant holding a new gun pressed to Blue’s skull. I was
faster. The bullet hit him in the temple and exploded that motherfucker’s
brains all over the wall. He fell straight down, like a skyscraper during an
earthquake. Blue didn’t let go of his arm until I called him to my side.

Adrenaline
coursed through me. I could feel every muscle in my body, tense and ready, my
vision was saturated with colors. I took two deep breaths, smelling the iron
scent of blood. Standing over the fallen man I shuddered from the hormones
running through me. He almost shot Blue, I thought. And then I shot him again,
making his corpse jump and twitch.

The
drugged guard continued to slumber as Blue and I walked down the hall. We took
a left and I counted off doors until I got to where Mana had said Anita was
being held. I knocked on the door, but
didn’t get an answer. I tried the knob, but found it locked. I put my ear
against the door and heard heavy breathing and bodies thrashing.