Chapter 16

"It's going to start in less than an hour." Ruqaiya strode into the suite in an elegant gray saree with navy borders. "And you haven't even knotted your tie yet."

She plucked the offending piece of fabric from Jehan's hands and started looping it efficiently around his neck. "You'd never have held down a job if you weren't a genius."

Jehan cocked his head to the side, his lips quirking. "I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. Is she here?"

"She is. They all are. Down in the lobby, ready and waiting for you." She gave the tie one final tug, then patted it in place against his chest. "There you go. All suited up and ready for the big boys' party."

Jehan smiled, pulling awkwardly at his sleeves. This shirt fitted him a little too well for comfort. "Thank you. For coming out here at such short notice–" He waved a hand. "I really couldn't have done this without you."

Ruqaiya shrugged. "I'm not sure you'll be able to do this with me. It's right on the teetering edge of what I'd even call a plan."

"Your confidence means the world to me," he deadpanned, examining himself critically in the full-length mirror next to his wardrobe. "I look distinguished."

"You look like a twink in a suit."

He frowned, taking her assessment into consideration. "A distinguished twink in a suit."

She rolled her eyes. "You should take Abhijat with you," she said, her tone losing all traces of humor. "If Maganti tried to kill you once, he might try again. In fact, he's more desperate now than ever before. And we're in his capital city. His stronghold. You need all the protection you can get."

Jehan shook his head, turning away from the mirror. "Nah. I need someone with her. Someone who can protect her, yes. But also someone I can trust not to turn on me. Not many people would be willing to risk murdering the prime minister in a place like this. But she's an easy target. I can't entrust her safety to anyone less than completely trustworthy."

"And Abhijat Shian is that person?"

"He's already betrayed me once." Jehan slid an arm into his jacket, pulling it on with a huff. "It's kinda lame to betray someone twice in two days. Plus, I'm pretty sure Rito would murder him if he let anything happen to her friend."

Ruqaiya raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And," Jehan sighed. "A little distance might be good for our relationship."

"You're awkward around him, aren't you?"

"He just looks so…guilty all the time," Jehan said plaintively. "Won't look at me, won't even talk unless I address him directly. It's painful."

"No less than either of you deserve, I'm sure." She strode out of the room, smirking.

"Hey, wait up!" Jehan caught up with her at the elevator bay, breathing hard. "Have you spoken to Ivanovna yet?"

Ruqaiya nodded. "You're so out of shape, I worry for the future of our nation. Though I have to say, whatever you said to her, it seems to have worked. She agreed to make the introductions at the gala, personally. I didn't even have to ask twice."

He hummed thoughtfully. "And…the other thing?"

"Oh, that. Yep. She's agreed not to press charges or publicize the incident…yet. She didn't seem happy about it. But then, he did kidnap her daughter. If anything's going to get you riled up, I suppose it's that.

"But she's more than willing to help us, from the looks of it. She seems to like you. And I suppose it helps that she's been at loggerheads with her step-son ever since her husband died fourteen years ago. She wants to stick it to Maganti as much as we do, if not more."

"Well, her daughter seems to have taken a liking to Rito." Jehan followed Ruqaiya into the elevator. "If all goes well tonight, the future leaders of Naijan and Maralana might end up being in-laws."

Ruqaiya chuckled. "I'd like to see you try and sell that idea to Abhijat. All the guilt in the world won't keep him from strangling you if he finds out you're scheming to sell his sister into a political marriage with the Maganti girl."

"Worth a try." He shrugged. "All for the greater good, of course."

"Well," Ruqaiya murmured, as the elevator doors slid open. "If your plan works out and Ivanovna really does become the next president of Maralana, we can secure strategic partnerships and free trade agreements the likes of which no one has dreamed of in decades. Your name will go down in history as one of the most successful prime ministers Naijan has ever had."

"That," agreed Jehan, stepping out into the brightly lit lobby. "Or one of the most short-lived."

***

Multicolored lights and exquisite flower arrangements adorned the venue. The place was vibrant, the music soothing, and there wasn't a single shadow as far as Jehan could see.

Murderous instincts aside, President Maganti certainly knew how to throw a party.

Jehan shared this thought with Ruqaiya, even as a waitress poured him a glass of something sparkly.

She rolled her eyes and told him to pour the drink into a flowerpot when no one was looking.

"You're no fun," he pouted.

"Not if being poisoned in front of a thousand cameras is your idea of fun."

She strode forward, Jehan in tow, until she was face to face with a balding, gray-clad man in his fifties. "Meet Mr. Fanen Sokolov. He's the new CEO of Avente Capital, the biggest FinTech company in Maralana. He's planning some major investments in Naijan in the upcoming years."

Jehan knew exactly who Sokolov was, and why Ruqaiya felt it necessary to introduce them. The man had a lot of money, and a deep-seated dislike of the current president of his country.

He wouldn't be averse to facilitating a change of guard in the government, if given the opportunity.

Still, there was no reason to reveal his hand just yet. He widened his eyes and favored the man with a bright – if slightly confused – smile. "Ah yes, of course, I've heard a lot about you." They shook hands. "And I'm so glad to finally meet you. President Maganti really has outdone himself with this year's gala, wouldn't you agree?"

Both of them turned to look at the man in question. Maganti was standing at the center of the room, surrounded by a group of transfixed listeners, talking bombastically about progress and collaboration between nations. He was dressed in the ceremonial uniform of the army general and had a smiling model in each arm.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jehan saw Abhijat standing with some of the other security personnel near the back, glaring daggers at Maganti. If looks could kill, the president would've been a very dashing corpse by now.

Jehan shook his head. Must be nice not to have fifty cameras pointed at you at all times, having to constantly monitor each look, glance, and expression; every twitch a performance. The novelty of it wore off rather quickly.

He understood why Abhijat had gone out of his way to avoid a career in politics.

The ornate double doors were flung open and Madam Ivanovna entered the venue with two exquisitely dressed young women in tow.

Conversation ceased for a moment, as everyone turned to look at the newcomers.

Tastefully dressed in muted hues, Ivanovna looked regal. Beside her, Milli looked pretty in a simple green dress gathered at the waist. She was talking animatedly with a young woman in a striking ochre and red saree.

As the cameras flashed, Ivanovna walked up to Maganti, her arms outstretched and a dazzling smile plastered on her face.

Jehan turned to see Rinisa hurrying towards the newcomers, her mouth set in a grim line.

"Excuse me," Jehan said apologetically to the gathered industrialists, and rushed to intercept Rinisa.

Moments before she had managed to reach Ivanovna, Jehan placed a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to turn around and greet him with an icy smile.

"Rinisa! Just the woman I was looking for." He wrapped her enthusiastically into a one-armed embrace. She was too stunned to do more than press a hand into the small of his back. "Come on, I want you to meet some people I've been speaking to."

Ruqaiya shepherded Sokolov and his group over to Maganti's clique moments after Ivanovna and the president had exchanged greetings, cameras flashing all around them.

By the time Jehan reached the gathering, a reluctant Rinisa in tow, the introductions were already coming to a close.

"And this," Ivanovna said, turning to the young woman in the ochre saree. "Is Afreen Firoz, a prominent social worker from Naijan and a dear friend of mine. Lately, she's been working with trafficked children in rural Naijan.

"And Afreen has some very interesting news about the use of certain…new-age drugs in the Naijani underworld." Ivanovna turned to Sokolov and his fellow businessmen, smiling warmly. "I'm sure you'll all find her stories very fascinating."

As Ivanovna talked, Jehan watched Rinisa turn progressively paler. She was looking at Afreen as if she'd seen a ghost.

If Jehan had had any doubts about whether or not Rinisa knew of Afreen's imprisonment at the La Fantome club, he didn't anymore.

Rinisa had recognized Afreen, and it'd spooked her. There wasn't a speck of doubt about that. She was scared. But was she scared enough to do what Jehan needed her to?

He glanced at his watch. It was almost time…

Live music began playing near the back of the hall, where the floor had been cleared and a few couples had started a leisurely dance.

He stepped forward with a smile, extending a hand for Rinisa to take. "May I have this dance?"

Her eyes widened. "I-I can't."

Jehan raised an eyebrow. She blushed, looking away. "Uh...I mean, I twisted my ankle earlier this evening. I really can't dance." She smiled sheepishly. "My feet are too sore."

"Oh, you needn't worry about that," Jehan said, raising his voice just enough to make sure those in the immediate vicinity could overhear the conversation. "We're all civilized people here. Just one dance, please? I promise not to exert you too much."

She swallowed, looking around. She couldn't very well refuse the prime minister a dance, not when every news outlet on the continent had a camera trained on her.

It was the perfect trap, and she knew it.

"Fine. One dance," she muttered through gritted teeth, taking Jehan's hand and moving quickly towards the dance floor. "But I should warn you, Fasih. Whatever game you're playing? It'll be extremely short lived."

***

The music was soft and leisurely, soothing to the ears. The ambient lights changed colors with every passing second.

Pressed up against Rinisa's prickly gold dress, Jehan wondered if this was the climax of some surreal dream sequence. If it was, it certainly would be the first time a lucid dream had been this exciting.

Moving slowly through the dance floor, his hands around Rinisa's slender waist, Jehan turned his face into her perfectly coiffed, fragrant hair. Her perfume smelled fantastic.

Rinisa was stiff and awkward in his arms. He smiled. He hadn't even said anything, and it was already working.

He might just win this round yet.

"The game's over, you know," he whispered sweetly into her ear, before twirling her around as the music picked up.

She hissed, stepping on his toe with one pointed stiletto heel.

He yelped and spun her away from himself, before pulling her back in. "Not in the mood to play nice today, are you?

"Well, it doesn't matter." He smiled serenely, swaying with the mesmerizing melodies created by the smartly dressed band of musicians. "Afreen's chatting up Sokolov and his friends as we speak. It won't be long before Maralana's top one-percent has a detailed understanding of what exactly Amven is, what it can be used for, and what kind of potential it has for the future.

"And of course, having been an eyewitness at the La Fantome Club, I'm sure Afreen will be able to paint an...accurate picture of what it's like to be under the influence of Amven. Not to mention what it was used for by your little brother and sister-in-law.

"The business community will be free to draw its own conclusions from that. They're intelligent men and women, wouldn't you agree? How long do you think it'll take them to figure out exactly what Amven will be used for, if Maganti ever managed to get his claws on it?"

Rinisa laughed. "What? You really think they'll believe the stories of a girl nobody's ever heard of, over the word of the president of Maralana, one of the most powerful men in the world? How deluded do you have to be to believe that?" Jehan didn't miss the slight tremor in her voice. "She'll never be able to prove anything, and you know it."

"Deluded?" Jehan chuckled, leading her into a quick pirouette around the dance floor. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. Why do you think Afreen ended up at the La Fantome in the first place? You don't think that was a coincidence, do you?

"The nonprofit she works for, Pragati, had been looking into the activities of the club for weeks before she was taken. And since the La Fantome was shut down, the central government – including the NIA – has extended its full cooperation to Pragati.

"They've spent months investigating every case of abduction and false imprisonment involving your club. By now, they've got piles upon piles of paperwork tracking exactly where the money flowed and who was funding the whole operation."

As he spoke, Jehan watched the blood drain from Rinisa's face. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, even as beads of sweat appeared on her forehead.

He smiled, meeting Ruqaiya's eyes over Rinisa's shoulder. She gave him a slight nod, her face grim.

The plan was in motion. And success was the only option.

As they circled the dance floor, Rinisa stiffened in his arms. "If you think some two-bit nonprofit can take us down–"

"A two-bit nonprofit and every resource I can bring to bear on this case." His tone was light, friendly. "Including the prototype Amven samples that you tried to blackmail the Shian girl into stealing from our lab."

"What're you–"

"I'm a lot of things, Ms. Rayeek. Quite a few of them not very nice. But 'stupid' isn't one of those things.

"Did you really think you could play us against each other time and time again and we wouldn't notice? I've known for months now, and Rito never had those samples for more than a few minutes."

"She said–" Rinisa's voice was strangled, her eyes wide.

"She lied. Because I told her to. Something you would've realized if you weren't so cocksure of your own genius." He chuckled, shaking his head. "And the blood samples from the kids rescued from the La Fantome? The NIA still has those reports.

"What do you think they'll find when they match that prototype against those reports? And how reluctant do you think either of the Shians would be, to testify against you in a court of law?"

"What the hell do you want?" Rinisa gritted out, her voice shrill.

"I want you to consider, my dear." He spun her on the spot, then pulled her close. "President Maganti is an influential man. He may or may not escape this little debacle unscathed.

"But you? I'll personally see to it that you live to regret the day you decided to cross me. And this little conspiracy of yours? It'll be the scandal of the century, when news of it is finally exposed.

"And it's not like you're short of enemies, is it?" He smirked. "Hardly surprising, with a personality like that. I'm sure there're many people in Naijan and Maralana who'd go out of their way to fan those flames until it's a media firestorm.

"Tell me, who'll stand up for you when that happens? Who'll go out of their way to protect you? It's not as though you're popular in Eraon. Personally, I think Afreen would make a far better deputy CM. She's certainly popular with the masses. And she's Zanyar, so she'll be the perfect successor to Henna Sameen.

"Honestly, I can't think of a more suitable chief minister for Eraon than her, can you?"

Rinisa was all but shaking in his arms.

Jehan bit his lip, looking over at Ruqaiya. She'd better hold up her end of the plan.

"As for your family's money," he continued, remembering to move with the music. "What's left of it after you've settled all the legal fees and paid all your overpriced attorneys will be confiscated to compensate the victims rescued from the La Fantome club.

"Badal may have protected you from the repercussions of your crimes all these years, but he isn't here anymore. You saw to that, didn't you? No more friends in high places, no more political protection to be had."

He shook his head in mock sympathy. "And I'll personally ensure that anyone who tries to help you will be investigated by the NIA and incarcerated the moment we find so much as a single incident of tax evasion. So, how many people do you think would be willing to stick their necks out for your sake?"

"When Grigori finds out what you've–"

"Maganti?" Jehan laughed, spinning her once again, keeping her off balance. "You really think he'll help you? Come on, Ms. Rayeek. Even you're not as stupid as that. He'll cut you loose and set you adrift the moment you become more of a liability than an asset, and you know that as well as I do. Don't you remember what happened to Badal?

"Maganti doesn't have friends, Rinisa. Can I call you Rinisa?" He frowned, nodded. "I think I'll call you Rinisa. Well anyway, as I was saying, President Maganti doesn't have friends. He has tools in his toolbox. And you might be his favorite hammer for the time-being. But that's the thing about tools, isn't it?

"Sooner or later, they get old. They outlive their usefulness. Sooner or later, even your favorites have to be replaced.

"After all, you should know that better than anyone. You helped him get rid of the last one when it became too squeaky to be useful, didn't you?" He looked her in the eyes. "You helped him kill Badal."

"You're playing with fire," Rinisa hissed as the song came to a close, their movements slowing in tandem with the music. "And you'll get yourself burned."

"Funny thing about near death experiences," Jehan said conversationally, leading Rinisa into a final promenade around the dance floor. "They make you bolder than you ever thought you would be. I had an epiphany, back at the warehouse. Want to know what it was?"

Rinisa went still, and Jehan smiled. "I realized that the amount of fucks I give about you and your threats…wouldn't fill a teaspoon. And if it's the last thing I do on this planet, I'll see to it that you spend the rest of your life in some dank prison cell in Naijan."

He leaned forward, bringing his mouth close to her ear. "If Maganti doesn't murder you first, that is."

As the last strains of the song floated in the air, Jehan let go of Rinisa. A woman in a luxuriant silk dress walked up to him and asked for the next dance.

He stepped onto the dance floor once again, his new partner talking animatedly at his side. Over her shoulder, Jehan watched Rinisa make a dash for the exit.

***

As Sokolov droned on about the importance of political change in democracies, Jehan saw Milli enter the room in a flurry of green and red, her auburn hair loose and windswept.

That was strange. He hadn't noticed her leave.

She approached them with a forced smile and nodded perfunctorily at Sokolov. "I'll have to steal Mr. Fasih, I'm afraid. This is my favorite song, you see." She glanced vaguely over at the dance floor. "And I absolutely must request a dance with the new prime minister of Naijan."

After Jehan had made elaborate apologies to Sokolov and his friends, she managed to drag him onto the dance floor. Soon, they fell into step, the music relaxing and comfortable.

Milli looked stressed and unhappy. Jehan was just thoroughly confused.

"You know," he said, as they moved in time with the music. "I narrowly escaped being murdered by my bodyguard yesterday. I'd rather not piss him off again by hitting on his sister's girlfriend. I've a very strong feeling I won't survive his wrath this time around."

Milli colored. "I'm-I'm not her girlfriend!" She shook her head and continued. "And-and you shouldn't hold what happened at the warehouse against Abhijat. He was manipulated. I know Grigori, he's good at that sort of thing. At-at playing people against each other." She looked away, breathing hard. "Taking advantage of their weaknesses, their fears and insecurities."

"Your loyalty to Rito is heartwarming," Jehan chuckled. "And believe me, after the way I've treated them, I've no business holding anything against any of the Shians. If Abhijat had put a bullet in my skull, I'm sure I would've deserved it. Richly.

"Still, the fact remains that I like having a bullet-free skull. And the sooner you tell me whatever it is you want to say, the longer I can keep it that way."

"I…you see, my mother has some friends over at the Central Bank–"

"By friends, I take it you mean spies."

Milli pursed her lips, then nodded. "Well, uh, one of them called me and…"

"And?" Jehan prompted mildly, focusing on their footwork, careful not to look her in the eyes or raise his voice. She looked scared to death already.

"And, well, Rinisa was at the bank. He said he saw her enter the building in a rush, looking disgruntled and harried. She went directly into the manager's office. Less than a quarter of an hour later, she left with a small backpack she hadn't had when she arrived." The words tumbled out in a barrage, tripping over each other.

"And?" Jehan prompted, coaxing. "Did he see which way she was headed?"

Milli nodded. "He said..." she swallowed. Tried again. "He said she drove off towards the airport."

Jehan bit back the stream of expletives that sprung to his lips. "She's making a run for it."

"And taking Grigori's stock of Amven with her." Milli's voice was shaking, her face white.

Jehan frowned. "You're sure that's what it was? She could've just taken some money or–"

Milli shook her head. "There've been rumors, for a long time now, that Grigori was stockpiling some kind of drug in various vaults at the Central Bank. That's why Mamma had her people working there in the first place. To keep an eye on things and report on Grigori's activities."

"Then it's possible Rinisa had access to that stockpile. And now that the ship is sinking–" He spun Milli around as the music picked up, making her squeal. "She's making her escape with the treasure, leaving her 'beloved Grigori' to drown in the aftermath.

"I wanted to scare her into doing something stupid, but even I hadn't expected she'd go this far."

"Well, if–if that's that case," Milli panted, blushing. "Then we need to go after her. Don't we?"

"Of course we do." Jehan bit his lip. "But it can't be us, can it? I can't very well leave this party midway, not for anything less than a seizure. And it'd look pretty odd if you or Madam Ivanovna did, either."

"I-I'm sure my mother could send some of her guards to follow Rinisa–"

Jehan shook his head. "No. No, that's not an option. For one thing, your mother's guards won't have the authority to stop Rinisa if she decides to board a plane and get the hell out of this country, preferably to someplace that doesn't extradite to either Maralana or Naijan. That's what I'd do if I were in her place."

"But–"

"And," Jehan cut her off, holding up a hand. "Rinisa is a master at manipulation. We need someone completely trustworthy. Someone who won't be swayed by money, sex, or anything else." He smiled slowly. "Someone who has a personal axe to grind with her, a reason to hate her that supersedes any temptation she might throw at him."

They turned as one to look at Abhijat, who was still standing in a shadowy corner near the back of the room, scowling at the world at large.

The song ended, and Jehan escorted Milli to the bar, signaling for the bartender to give her a drink. "Don't leave the venue, okay? No matter what. All hell's going to break loose tonight, and I don't want you to get caught in the crossfire. Rito will have my head if you get yourself killed."

Milli smiled faintly. "I'll be safe. I promise."

Jehan nodded. He braced himself with a deep breath before stealing a glance at Abhijat over his shoulder. "Now wish me luck."

***

Seeing Jehan approach him, Abhijat stiffened.

Jehan frowned. This was getting annoying.

"I need a favor," he said, once he was close enough to be heard. "Something's happened, and I–" he looked around quickly. "I need your help. It's urgent."

Abhijat's eyes narrowed, the skepticism evident on his face. "You need my help?"

Jehan nodded.

Abhijat sighed. "Okay. What's this about?"

"I can't…I need to talk to you in private."

Abhijat looked torn, conflicted. Then, as he looked over Jehan's shoulder, his eyes narrowed, shoulders stiffening.

Jehan turned to see a willowy young woman – whom he had last seen hanging from Maganti's arm – rushing towards them.

Navigating precariously through the crowded room in six inch heels, she almost crashed into Jehan, looking flushed and slightly tipsy. This prompted Abhijat to insert himself between them, before reaching out to steady the newcomer.

She giggled, her lashes fluttering, then brushed Abhijat's hands off her shoulders with murmured apologies.

"So very clumsy of me. I'm so sorry." She laughed, breathless, her doe eyes fixed on Jehan. "But, you see, my friends told me it was stupid but…I couldn't not, you know! It's been a dream of mine for so long."

Abhijat looked baffled and uncomfortable. Jehan raised an eyebrow.

"I…Mr. Fasih, sir, I'd love to have the next dance with you." She blushed, then glanced quickly over at the dance floor. "I've been a fan of yours for so many years now. I studied biochemistry and pharmacology in college, did you know? All because I wanted to work with you someday. You've been such an inspiration to so many poor girls like me–"

"I, ah, flattering as that is," Jehan murmured, looking around for a distraction. "I'm afraid I can't–"

"But it's my birthday, today!" she whined, raising her voice so that everyone in the vicinity could hear her. Jehan bit back a curse. She was using his own trick against him. "And-and I asked them to play my favorite song next, just so I could have this dance with you."

Her eyes were bright and expressive, her luscious lips pursed in a fetching pout. "Please, Mr. Fasih. If not for me, then for all your young fans in Maralana. For all the young girls who dream of growing up to become a great scientist and leader like you. Won't you have this dance with me?"

A moment passed in silence. Jehan could feel eyes on him, the other attendees turning to see what the commotion was about.

He smiled. "Of course. I'd be honored to. But I'm afraid I've already promised this next dance to my dear friend Abhijat." He wrapped his fingers around Abhijat's upper arm, causing the latter to go still.

Ignoring his discomfiture, Jehan continued, his smile growing. "You wouldn't want me to break a promise, would you my dear?" He stepped closer to Abhijat. "Just one dance. After that," he cocked his head to one side and favored her with his best lopsided grin. "I'm all yours."

Eyes wide, mouth hanging open, the young woman nodded mutely. She looked like she didn't know what to say.

That suited Jehan just fine. Without another word, he looped his arm into Abhijat's and dragged him off towards the dance floor just as the previous song came to a close.

"Are you trying to cause a scandal?" Abhijat hissed in his ear as they stepped onto the dance floor.

"Yesterday, you thought I was trying to murder your parents. Today, it's just a scandal I'm trying to cause." Jehan pulled Abhijat into position, beaming. "Now that's what we call progress."

The first notes of the new song floated in the air and Abhijat led them awkwardly through the initial steps of the dance.

Jehan chuckled. "You're so stiff, they'd think I was making you dance at gunpoint. I spurned that poor girl to dance with you," he widened his eyes, pitching his voice low. "And this is the best that you can do?"

Abhijat growled and spun him in place. The move was abrupt and out of sync with the music, but Jehan just threw his head back and laughed.

He liked riling Abhijat up. Ruqaiya was going to call him on it later, but he couldn't help himself. The man was just so easy to provoke.

Perhaps Abhijat should've put a bullet in his skull when he had the chance.

"What do you want from me?" his partner snarled, visibly struggling to keep his voice low.

"What I want," Jehan said, falling back into step with Abhijat and ignoring the cameras flashing all around them. "Is irrelevant. What I need–" he twirled deftly, putting himself between Abhijat and a camera that was about to capture his enraged scowl. "Is for you to chase down Rinisa and stop her from leaving the country with President Maganti's stock of Amven."

"What?"

"What?" Jehan looked up at Abhijat with wide, sincere eyes. "You don't think I coerced you into this dance just to watch you squirm, do you?"

Abhijat glared at him. Jehan giggled. "Okay fine. But that was only sixty percent of my motivation.

"The other forty stemmed from the fact that Rinisa's heading for the airport as we speak, along with a backpack full of Amven samples Maganti has managed to accumulate over the years.

"If she leaves Maralana, it'll be almost impossible to get her back. And those drugs will be all but lost to us, used for God only knows what purpose in some obscure corner of the world. For all we know, she'll use them to set up more clubs like La Fantome, in places where we can't intervene.

"We need to stop her before she can board a plane out of this country. And I can't send someone after her who might be bribed or manipulated into letting her get away."

Abhijat nodded, his face grim. "I understand."

"Off you go then," Jehan smiled, stepping away. "Just don't forget you owe me a dance when this is over."

Abhijat scowled, then stepped off the dance floor and made a beeline for the doorway.

***

Jehan wandered off the dance floor, his eyes scouring the room for Ruqaiya.

Distracted, he almost ran straight into the young woman he'd left gaping in his wake minutes ago.

He blinked. "Oh…um. Hey there! Would you like to have that dance now?"

Her scarlet lips quirked upwards. "I'd love to! But you must be tired, so soon after your last dance. It looked…stressful."

"That's one way to put it."

"You should have a drink, rest a little." She held up a champagne flute.

She was carrying another in her left hand, this one half-empty. "And then, of course, we can have that dance you promised me. Don't think I'm letting you off the hook that easy."

"I'd be disappointed if you did." He accepted the drink and raised it to his lips.

Ruqaiya's agitated voice floated to his ears. He turned around.

At the other end of the hall, President Maganti stood at the center of a circle composed of Madam Ivanovna, Afreen, Ruqaiya, and Mr. Sokolov. The president was red faced and fuming.

"Duty calls." Jehan smiled apologetically at the young woman, before heading towards the unlikely group that had formed near the exit.

"What's the matter?" he asked mildly, once he was close enough to be heard by the gathered individuals.

"The president seems to be under the misconception that Afreen is a criminal," Ruqaiya informed him, sounding annoyed. "He's threatening to have her arrested."

"I can't allow that, I'm afraid," Ivanovna said decisively, her jaw set. "Afreen is my guest. And I can't allow her to be mistreated in such a way while she's visiting Maralana. Definitely not on the basis of unsubstantiated hearsay."

Jehan nodded, idly swirling the champagne in his glass. "I can't allow it either, I'm afraid." He smiled apologetically at Maganti, which seemed to infuriate the president even more. "Afreen is a Naijani citizen.

"And as the prime minister, I can't very well allow my citizens to be detained in foreign countries without due process…and a very solid reason. What'll people say?" He turned to Afreen. "But what've you done to offend the president so much he wants to have you arrested?"

"Nothing." She looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. "I'd just asked President Maganti for a venue to organize an event in Manganic, on behalf of my organization. I'd planned to give a series of talks in the city, on the subject of trafficking.

"As I was telling the president–" she stole a quick glance at Maganti, who looked like he was itching to wring her neck. "The people of Maralana should be made aware of the dangers of human trafficking, seeing as it's emerged as such a pervasive problem in Naijan, a neighboring country.

"In particular, I wanted to talk about what'd happened at the La Fantome club, and how new-age drugs are now being used by traffickers to lure children away from their homes. Mr. Sokolov has even agreed to fund the event." She beamed at the older gentleman. "But the president seems opposed to the idea."

"That sounds like a fantastic idea!" Jehan beamed at Afreen, raising the champagne flute to his temple. "And I'm sure there's been a misunderstanding. There's no way the president can be opposed to such a noble cause."

"Do you think I'm a fool? She's an agent from Naijan!" Maganti thundered, pointing at Afreen. "Sent here to destabilize my government."

A few cameras flashed away at the peripheries of Jehan's vision. He smiled.

"That's not true!" Afreen protested, scandalized. "Please, Mr. President. You're welcome to run a thorough check on my background. I've worked internationally as a social worker for years now, to uplift the marginalized sections of society. I have an impeccable record. I've worked in more than twenty countries over the course of my career."

"She's telling the truth." A pale woman with dreadlocks came forward from the crowd that'd gathered around their little group. Jehan wondered which one of the northern city-states she was from. "Ms. Afreen and some of her colleagues came to my ancestral village last year. From what I've heard from my relatives, they've done some excellent humanitarian work in the region."

Strong fingers closed in around his bicep. Between one breath and the next, Jehan was being pulled aside by Maganti.

"I know exactly what you're trying to do, you devious son of a bitch!" the older man hissed into his ear, his voice trembling with suppressed fury. "And let me tell you this. You will never succeed."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong, Mr. President." Jehan smiled pleasantly at Maganti, holding his drink carefully away from the older man. "I already have succeeded. Tell me, where's Rinisa? When was the last time you saw her, anyway? I bet it's been at least an hour, if not more."

Maganti's eyes widened, his hold on Jehan slackening. He looked around frantically. A vein in his temple throbbed a steady rhythm, making him look slightly unhinged.

"She's gone." Jehan stepped away, smiling. "And she's just the first rat to leave a sinking ship. The others will follow soon enough."

Maganti sputtered. "You're lying!"

"Well, you could always try calling her, if you don't believe me." Jehan shrugged. "Might be a shock to the system, though. I'm guessing you're not used to having your calls ignored.

"Still, I wouldn't hold it against her if I were you. At this point, she couldn't have answered even if she wanted to."

Maganti glared balefully at him.

Jehan suppressed a grimace. He never had managed to completely overcome his aversion to aggression.

But it wouldn't do to let Maganti think he had anything resembling the upper hand.

Forcing his lips to curl into a mocking sneer, Jehan flicked imaginary lint off the president's lapels. "She tried to steal your secret Amven stockpile from the Central Bank and leave the country…not two hours ago."

Maganti sucked in a sharp breath and Jehan felt something uncoil in his chest. He hadn't known. Maganti was as surprised as Jehan had been, though he didn't show it with anything more than the twitch of a brow.

"Not that you need to worry about that," Jehan continued, examining an exquisite flower arrangement on the wall behind Maganti. "All of that's already been dealt with. Abhijat Shian has Rinisa in custody, as well as your stock of stolen Amven."

Maganti growled under his breath. Jehan laughed. "Let's not kid ourselves, Mr. President. Stolen goods are stolen goods. Not that they'll remain stolen for much longer, of course. Rinisa is a Naijani citizen and will be taken back to Qayit immediately, along with the drugs she was trying to flee with.

"Soon, both your right-hand woman and your prize drugs will be in Qayit, out of your reach. And there isn't a thing you can do about it."

"What's he talking about, Grigori?" Ivanovna asked, stepping forward, a frowning Sokolov in tow. "What are these drugs that were stolen?"

"He's lying!" Maganti roared, advancing threateningly towards Jehan, forcing him to take a step back. "Don't you dare–"

"Tell me, Mr. President." Jehan twirled the champagne glass between his fingers, staring contemplatively down at the golden liquid. "What would I find if I sent this drink over to the lab for a quick toxin test?

"Could it be that I'd find – to my dismay – that this glass of champagne was laced with a drug that'd make me conveniently comatose? Or better yet, would give me a heart attack a couple of hours after I've left this lovely gala? Not that it'd be a particularly bad way to die, all things considered. But still, bit of a rude way to welcome your friends, wouldn't you agree?"

He glanced at Ruqaiya. "Could you get it to a lab for me? A cursory test shouldn't take more than a couple of hours. Madam Ivanovna, if you will. It's only fair that some Maralanese witnesses be present during the testing, to avoid allegations of sabotage or duplicity, if nothing else."

"If something is found in that glass," Maganti interjected, an undercurrent of menace in his tone. "What's to say you didn't put it in there?"

Balancing the champagne flute casually between two fingers, Jehan raised an eyebrow. "The simple fact that the woman who handed me this drink has been with you all evening, besides being a model for one of the clothing lines owned by your family." He looked around innocently at the gathered attendees. "You can have the cameras checked, if you don't want to take my word for it."

Maganti snarled, launching himself at Jehan.

Seeing the attack coming, Jehan planted his feet, bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and forced himself not to dodge or move out of the way.

The optics would be worth a few broken bones, if it came to that.

President Maganti attacking the unarmed leader of a neighboring country at his own gala… Just a month ago, Jehan would've given his right arm for this opportunity.

And now–

Maganti's fist connected with his jaw, and Jehan offered no resistance, allowing himself to be thrown backwards into the wall. The champagne flute shattered against the concrete, spraying golden liquid everywhere.

How dramatic. Jehan couldn't have choreographed this better if he'd tried.

By the time the stars dissipated from his vision, Sokolov and some guards were pulling Maganti off him, even as the president raged and ranted about international conspiracies and espionage.

Jehan schooled his features into an expression of bewildered dismay, rubbing gently at his throbbing skull.

He said nothing. He didn't need to.

His part was done. Anything more would be seen as unwelcome interference into the affairs of a foreign country.

Besides, Maganti had made enough enemies within Maralana. They wouldn't need Jehan's help taking him down. Not anymore.

He heard Ivanovna instruct the guards to escort the president home.

"Make sure he doesn't leave the house until we've decided how to proceed with this issue," she said, turning away from her fuming stepson. "He's clearly unwell."

"And unstable," someone in the crowd muttered.

Jehan shook his head sadly, looking away as the president was all but dragged out of his own gala, screaming and fulminating.

***

Abhijat drove like a man possessed.

He prayed he'd made the right decision in taking the shortcut to the airport. If Ivanovna's spies had spotted Rinisa at the Central Bank, he figured it was already too late to try and intercept her there. She'd have left long before they got there.

But to make a stop at the bank, Rinisa would've had to take the long way around to the airport. If they made good time, they could get there before her.

The car screeched to a halt a few blocks away from the international terminal. Abhijat leapt out of the vehicle. He instructed the guards accompanying him to spread out around the premises and keep an eye on the entrance.

"Contact me immediately if you see her."

His heart thundered as he strode towards the building. This was it. The last opportunity he'd ever have, to right some of the wrongs he had committed.

If Rinisa got away tonight, she'd be out of his reach forever.

After everything she'd done – to him, to his family, to Naijan and Fasih and to all those children they'd found drugged out of their minds at the La Fantome, she would get away with it all, never having to answer for any of her crimes.

His blood boiled in his veins, just thinking about it.

He found a large, well-lit display and stood under it, allowing the prismatic lights of the digital billboard to cast shadows on his face. It hid him from the eyes of the casual observer, without making it look like he was trying to hide.

He slipped his phone out of his pocket and flicked open a video game, keeping an eye on the entryway without looking as though he were keeping watch.

Soon, a cab pulled up in front of the terminal and a diminutive, slender woman stepped out.

The lower half of her face was obscured by a scarf, tied at the back of her head in a style that was common during the summers, when women tried to protect themselves from the dust and heat by covering their faces.

She carried a small leather briefcase, very much like the one Abhijat had seen at that nightmarish warehouse.

Blood roaring in his ears, Abhijat snapped a few words into his communicator and broke into a run.

Within seconds, he was facing Rinisa.

Her eyes widened, the blood draining from her face. She turned around and ran – or at least tried to – even as three uniformed guards closed in on her from all directions.

"By order of the prime minister," Abhijat said, stepping into her space. "I can't allow you to leave this country at the moment."

He reached for the briefcase she was holding. She jerked away, wild-eyed.

He smirked. "You can give it to me. Or I can take it from you. Personally, I'd prefer the latter. I've been itching for an excuse to shoot you all day."

For a moment, Rinisa looked like she was about to cry.

Then, her features smoothed out, all emotion draining from her face. She reached behind her to undo the knot of the scarf covering her face, and her lips quirked into an inviting smile.

"You could do that," she murmured, taking a small but deliberate step towards Abhijat, until their faces were inches apart. "Or, we could think of something more…interesting for us to do. Somewhere far away from this godforsaken city."

"Mmmm…" Abhijat closed his eyes, breathing in her sweet, floral perfume. He took her free hand gently between both of his own. "We could do that. Or," With a flick of his wrist, he spun her around, twisting her arm behind her back until she hissed in pain.

"Or I could arrest you for being in possession of regulated substances in a foreign country and drag you back home, where you'll be charged with smuggling and treason, if you're lucky. Trafficking and murder too, if I have anything to say about it–"

"Abhijat, please," she whimpered, struggling against his vice-like grip.

"Please," he repeated, relieving her of the briefcase. "Don't make a scene. Unless, of course, you want to give your darling Grigiori a reason to have you murdered before we can get you out of his country."

She shivered.

Escorting her over to the waiting car, Abhijat grinned. "All the same to me. Just so long as I get to put you on a pyre and light the goddamn match."