Chastity Flame (25 page)

Chastity saw Wesenlund's expression
taking this all in, a flicker of despair giving way to a stubborn
anger. "There is always a way to cope with change, Ms. Flame. I'm
sure it will require a little PR. In the meantime, I think we
should be getting away from here." He began to back away from the
entrance heading toward the river. Chastity followed, a sinking
feeling developing in her chest because she knew where he was
headed. Sure enough, he angled toward the footbridge, scattering
people as he struggled with the girl, who had begun to scream and
cry.

Without looking back, Chastity knew
her team was with her, though keeping a safe distance. What she
didn't know was what Wesenlund planned to do on the bridge. She
kept up the conversation, hoping it would either bring him to
reason or give her some kind of useful clue. "Face it, Wesenlund –
or should I call you Sven? – you're history. You are a dinosaur of
another age. Your business practices went out with the nineteenth
century," she said as they ascended the walkway to the
bridge.

Wesenlund gave her a cruel smile as he
gave the girl a rough shake, which quieted her for a moment. "You
are mistaken, Ms. Flame. You have been seduced by all the
world-holding hands songs and internet folderol. One world, one
people." He struggled along the bridge, watching as people gasped
when they saw the gun to the child's head and hurried on, heads
down. "The world is the same place it's always been. A place for
those who fight hardest and growl most fiercely. The strongest man
in the world is he who stands alone."

Chastity laughed. "Yet you find
yourself hiding behind a child."

"A mere precaution," Wesenlund said,
as the wind whipped the child's hair around. A few spatters of rain
were beginning to fall. It was looking to be a miserable day, what
with all the rain coming down from the north. Below her feet,
Chastity could see the Thames roiling below. It must be near high
tide, she thought.

"You have to realize that this is
hopeless," she told him, feeling the cold rain come down in earnest
now, and blinking the water away from her eyes. "You cannot
possibly get away."

"I am not so ready to throw in the
towel, Ms. Flame," Wesenlund said, his tone relentlessly defiant.
"There is a solution to every problem. It merely needs to be
located."

Chastity glanced at the opposite end
of the bridge and saw two figures poised for engagement. The team
was rounding on its quarry. Wesenlund could not escape, but she had
to make sure he wasn't going to sacrifice the child. "Your cheerful
business slogans don't do much good in real life. Death is not a
problem, but a fact. The only question is whether you plan to meet
him today."

"In Norwegian folk tales, Death is
always a beautiful woman. At least, she was in the tales my mother
told me," Wesenlund said, losing his arrogant grin for a moment.
"Perhaps you are she after all, Ms. Flame."

"I just do my job," Chastity said,
feeling the moment for action was getting near. They were out in
the middle of the river, far from either bank. No one near them
now. The team had done a good job of blocking access. Around
Wesenlund's head she saw the Gherkin and Tower Bridge. For a
moment, he seemed to waver.

She seized the opportunity. "Give it
up, Wesenlund. It needn't be the end. There are ways you can help
us. We can make arrangements—"

He gave a bark of laughter. "Do you
really think I would help you? I despise your meddling and
policing. Once, the world was free, allowing superior men to enjoy
their superiority. But now—regulations, watchdogs, taxes and
tinkering! Better to drag down the extraordinary to the same level
as everyone else. Let no one excel. Keep everyone the same, equally
dull."

During his diatribe, he had loosened
his hold on the girl. It was all Chastity could do to restrain
herself from pitching forward to grab her, but the moment was not
quite there. Wesenlund practically boiled with anger, his eyes
flashing with fire. Maybe it was better to provoke him. "Is money
really the only measure of success, Wesenlund? Even so, there are
so many who have made far more than you. Better to come in with us.
Admit defeat."

His face grew red. "I have not failed!
I have been betrayed by a criminal incompetence and a hateful envy.
There is no end to the enmity for the truly exceptional
man."

"You wouldn’t get to keep everything
you have now," Chastity continued evenly, "but you could keep some.
It will be a trade-off. Better than nothing."

"Compromise," Wesenlund shouted, the
words flying away into the pouring rain. "The devil is compromise!"
Suddenly he threw the child at Chastity who had no choice but to
clasp her in her arms. Without another word, Wesenlund leapt over
the railings and plummeted into the river below. Chastity dropped
the shrieking girl and pulled out her gun, but Wesenlund had
disappeared beneath the waves. Her gaze darted back and forth
across the water as she heard the shouts and heavy tread of the
rest of the team running toward the centre of the
bridge.

The opaque waters yielded nothing.
There was sign of him. No boats idled nearby, no buoys masked the
view. All of them kept watch up and down the river, but there was
no sign of Wesenlund since he hit the river's surface.

"Drowned," Five offered at last. The
team's silence seemed to agree.

Chastity stared down at the waves as
the rain flattened her hair. Lots of people died every year in the
Thames. Its waters were a lot more dangerous than people generally
reckoned. It was depressing to think Wesenlund would rather die
than help people. Unredeemable after all, she thought, but now he
was part of the shared heart of the city, an irony he would hate.
Words rose up from memory: The river glideth at his own sweet will.
So be it.

Postscript

Chastity opened the door, knowing who
it would be. Indeed, her cheerful postman beamed in the bright
morning light. "Morning, Miss World! And a glorious day it is,
too."

"Indeed it is," Chastity agreed. While
they had been unable to keep the incident from the news, Monitor
had managed to disguise the whole incident as a child custody case
gotten out of hand. It would fade from people's consciousness soon
enough. Chastity had at least a week's respite to relax and read
novels. In fact, before she heard the bell, she had just made a big
pot of Earl Grey, ready to curl up with a thick volume by Elizabeth
Gaskell. "Anything good today?" she asked her blue-shirted friend.
It was important to maintain these little rituals, Chastity thought
fondly.

"Mostly the usual dreck," he said,
sighing with feigned sorrow. "But there is this mystery envelope."
He held aloft a linen envelope, dove grey and addressed with a
distinctive hand.

Chastity smiled. "Yes, I think that's
for me."

The postman frowned. "Oh, I don’t
know. There's something very odd about this letter. It’s got the
right address, but—" He flipped it up for her to examine.
"Twelfty?"

Chastity giggled. She heard herself
and thought, God, I sound like a teenager. "Yes, he has trouble
spelling. Dyslexia, you know."

The postman blinked at her, then burst
out laughing. "Alright, alright. Well, when he breaks your heart,
you know I'll be here to pick up the pieces." He handed her the
letter and walked away whistling.

"I know," Chastity said at his
retreating back. "I know."

ABOUT
K.A.LAITY

K.A. Laity is the award-winning author
of Rook Chant, Owl Stretching, Pelzmantel and Unikirja, a
collection of short stories and a play based on the Kalevala,
Kanteletar, and other Finnish myths and legend, for which she won
the 2005 Eureka Short Story Fellowship as well as a 2006 Finlandia
Foundation grant. With cartoonist Elena Steier she created the
occult detective comic Jane Quiet. Her bibliography is chock full
of short stories, humor pieces, plays and essays, both scholarly
and popular. She also writes romance as C. Margery Kempe and Kit
Marlowe.

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Laity:

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(http://www.kalaity.com)

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A Knife and A Quill
(http://www.aknifeandaquill.wordpress.com)

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Thank you for reading Chastity
Flame.

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upcoming releases. Watch for Chastity Flame: Lush Situation in
January 2013!