The Ghost Rebellion (31 page)

Out of the corner of her eye she observed Sophia move to stand next to her, looking over the impressive locomotive from end to end. Eliza cast her gaze downward to the two suitcases flanking the assassin. “For someone on the run, you’re hardly travelling light.”

“
India provided me an opportunity to replenish my wardrobe,” Sophia returned. “And resupply myself with a few necessary sundries.”

Eliza nodded. “Excellent. Then as you have been on the run, carrying your own luggage won’t seem out of the ordinary.” Sophia’s expression hardened and that was a reward in itself. “Best get yourself settled then.”

Her companion did not reply. Straight away. A devilish gleam accompanied her smile. “It is London all over again, isn’t it?”

“
Could be.”

Sophia took stock of her suitcases, then said, “On this mission, I will tend to my own fashion. I prefer not to have my movements monitored once we part company. A valiant attempt though, Miss Braun.”

So that’s how the Ministry lost Sophia’s signal in Cologne,
she thought. Granted, with the Diamond Jubilee and the Maestro’s mayhem unfolding around them, planting that particular tracker had not been her best work.

It was then Eliza realized she was clenching her jaw, a sure sign that things might go badly this time out. She felt skittish, off somehow. Like she didn’t know which way to jump, and it wasn’t just the presence of the Italian assassin.

She watched O’Neil and his men at the “floating” car loading weapons and supplies. Maulik, on joining them at the Victoria Terminus, had informed them this was not to be solely a Ministry mission. Alongside twenty of their agents, a full platoon under O’Neil’s command would be joining them. By their set expressions they were men after vengeance.

Wellington returned, shaking his head. “I admire Maulik’s transport here, but a private train seems very…impractical. The length of the engine is absurdly long. Longer than a hypersteam. Utterly ridiculous.”

“
Oh, Wellington,” she heard Maulik say, “you cut me to the quick.”

Emerging from the clouds of vapour, Maulik joined the two of them, and that was when they noted his chair seemed larger than the one he had been using since their arrival. Then Eliza could see housed in the chair’s arms a set of Gatlings. Everyone appeared armed, armoured, and hungry for battle.

“
Trains are the very best way to keep a low profile in this country. Airships, while faster, attract far too much attention,” he pointed out.

“
And Gatling guns in the armrests?” Eliza asked. “That also the best way to keep a low profile and not attract attention to yourself?”  

“
Oh no, this is my personal statement to the opposition.  So, with a double agent already en route, two days to reach our location, and picking up a few more agents along the way, we should get moving.”

“
Has the Ministry enabled sufficient delays so that we might catch up with Vania?” Wellington asked.

“
Yes, we considered that, but there’s a problem. Vania is well versed in our procedures. She would notice any kind of manipulation like that,” Maulik nodded, but then he added cheerily, “so we will rely on the next best thing.”

Sophia crooked an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“
The efficiency of the Great Southern India Railway Company, which is slowly transitioning to the control of the Indian government.”

“
Ah,” Wellington said, nodding. “Say no more.”

Eliza patted his hand, and led the way onto the train. She did not even look at Sophia. “Come along then.”

“
Yes,” Maulik said, rolling on to a platform. “Meet me in the Strategy Room.” The platform slowly lifted the director up towards the car as Wellington and Eliza ascended its steps. Sophia was a few feet behind them, struggling with her luggage, much to Eliza’s amusement. “That’s the one to my left,” he added.

This carriage was all set up for business—that much was immediately apparent—as there were few seats set in the walls. Oddly, these seats came equipped with harnesses. Perhaps, as this was a train designed for operations, they expected rough travels. That must have been why this car only had four windows. Seeing the size of them, they were less for enjoying the view and more for allowing limited light into the car. Most of the wall space was covered in maps of India and images of the Ghost Rebellion ringleaders. The centre of the carriage was dominated by a large brass periscope.

Naturally, Wellington gravitated to it.

Eliza turned to Maulik. “So, this is the Strategy Room. What is the larger car forward of us?”

“
The Training Carriage,” the director said, his pride quite evident. “A real accomplishment on the part of R&D. It is our mobile training facility. It can be converted from a modest shooting range to an obstacle course to an open sparring centre.”

Sophia dropped her cases. “On a moving train?”

“
That’s the ingenious part. The car is actually kept steady on its truss through high-powered magnets. The field actually dampens the inertia transferred to the car, stabilising it as if it is standing still.”

“
But wouldn’t the magnetic field throw bullet trajectory?”

“
An excellent observation, Miss del Morte. R&D lined the bottom of the car with a compound that deflects the magnetic field. The power is concentrated on keeping the car steady, which is what we need, after all. I’m hoping to see if our Ministry agents will take on Kalaripayattu on this mission. This particular style is from the Northern region, and it would be wonderful, Wellington, if you could join us. The evasions and jumps have an elegance about them—”

“
No, thank you, sir,” Wellington replied quickly. Eliza glanced over her shoulder. He was busy moving dials, and peering through the periscope. A good gadget, that was all it really took to pique his interest, or at least that was what he was trying to convey. “That will not be necessary.”

“
Oh…what a shame,” Maulik rolled forward towards the opposite door. “Then let me show you all to your berths.”

The director led the way down the train. They still haven’t started moving yet, but through the soles of her feet Eliza could feel the engine start to chug faster. It wouldn’t be long now.

“
Here you are, Miss del Morte,” Maulik said, stopping at one cabin. A tight fit, even for one. “I hope you find it to your liking.”

Sophia slid into the cabin and looked about. “Hardly the Ritz…but I’ll manage.”

“
Excellent,” he said, watching her move around her luggage in the tight space. “And now to you two. I hope you don’t mind sharing with Wellington, Eliza. Quarters are tight after all, what with the military joining us.”

“
Sir,” Wellington said, “what of our things? We did not have time—”

“
Oh, not to worry, I called for your things and had them brought to your cabin.” The huff took Maulik’s attention from them to Sophia. “A benefit in serving the Ministry, my dear.”

They continued deeper into the passenger car, stopping at a cabin door identical to Sophia’s. Maulik slid open the door revealing a cabin twice the size of the assassin’s. It was still a tight fit but it was hardly the cramped berth Sophia was settling into with her suitcases.

“
We had this room designated for visiting dignitaries, so I thought it would be appropriate for you two.” He gave a gentle tap to Eliza’s forearm. “Get some rest. Breakfast will be served at eight, two cars up. Follow your nose.”

Casting a quick glance at them both, Maulik continued deeper into the train. On account of his mask and the artificial reproduction of his voice, Eliza could not tell how the director felt about this mission. Returning to her own comparison of this visit to India as a perfect storm of calamity, Maulik had to be at his wit’s end. There was Vania. There was the Ghost Rebellion. And there was Jekyll. He had seen Jekyll for the monster he truly was. He had faced him once at the Water Palace, and then faced his creation inside St Paul’s Cathedral in London. The first encounter had left an impression on him while the other sentenced him to a wheelchair. Whatever was running through the director’s mind remained a secret, but it couldn’t be pleasant.

“
We should manage here quite well,” Wellington said, snapping her out of her trance.

“
Better than being in a room within reach of that woman,” Eliza said with a growl.

“
I understand Sophia del Morte is not the most trustworthy or virtuous person,” he began, slipping out of his coat, “but she has come to our aid before.”

“
Let’s not forget she killed Harry,” she seethed.

“
Let’s not forget she helped us prepare for the Diamond Jubilee.”

She stopped, let out a sigh, and stared at Wellington. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to talk about Sophia all the time, but I swear she is like a splinter under my nail. I just…”

The train lurched forward suddenly, sending Eliza into Wellington, and both of them into a small couch. For a moment she was still, stiff as a board in his arms, and then after a moment something miraculous happened; she relaxed. He didn’t say anything, simply held her, swaying a little bit, and stroking her back as the train began to pick up speed.

 “
Featherstone, Jekyll, æthergates, Sophia, electroporters, and then Vania,” he said finally, tossing his bowler across the cabin. “Even for us, it’s been a difficult few weeks.”

He was right. All these old issues that she thought she’d put to rest were now coming back, and she never really addressed that. Eliza slipped one leg across Wellington’s lap, straddling him, and ran her fingers through his hair. She inhaled his scent, feeling some level of calm return. Looking into his eyes, she examined his dear face.

“
I know I didn’t say so at the time,” she muttered. “Ihita…it was…well it was difficult for me.”

“
You didn’t need to say it. I knew.”

It suddenly came to her how much she enjoyed this moment of privacy, a moment of intimacy. “You’re good for me, Wellington Thornhill Books. I don’t know if I have told you that, but you are.”

He brushed a strand of hair off her face. “We’re both rather good for each other I think.”

She was damned if she knew what waited for them in this mission ahead, but she did know one thing. “I need you too, Wellington,” she said, and pulled his lips to hers.

The kiss was fierce and hungry, even as the train lurched suddenly. Eliza’s teeth rapped hard against Wellington’s, but the tiny jolt of pain was insignificant compared against her desire for this man. Wellington managed to reach out with his foot and slide the bolt lock in place. His resourcefulness was another reason she loved him.

Eliza reluctantly pulled free of his lips, but she needed to see his eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes of his. Usually, they were her focus, a haven for her. Just as he knew her mind all too often, she always knew his when she took a moment to look into his gaze. Right then, what she saw was honest desire, but also something more. She didn’t want to be the one to say it first, but she didn’t want to be the one that let a moment pass.

That had been the lesson of Paris. Never again.

“
I do love you, Wellington,” she said, running her fingers along his cheek.

He stared at her for a moment, his hand tightening on her waist as the train reached a smoother rhythm. “I have always loved you, Eliza. Right from when you came down into the Archives.”

“
Even when I broke that blasted vase revealing the location of El Dorado?”

He kissed her soundly, taking his time, before pulling back to assert, “Yes.”

“
And when I overloaded your analytical engine with commands, even after you had warned me?”

He pulled her closer to lick and nibble her neck, sending tingles down her spine. “Even then, too.”

“
What about when I misfiled all those cases from 1867?”

Leaning back, he examined her as if she were a strange creature he had just discovered, before clasping her against him, and kissing her again. This time his hands roamed over her body, trying to find closures he could loosen. “That was quite trying, I must admit,
but I still loved you,”
Wellington insisted. “Besides, I knew it was only because you did not want to be there.”

Eliza tugged at his ascot, and grinned slyly down at him. “Well, I learned to love the Archives almost as much as you. My only regret is not taking advantage of the privacy and enjoying amorous fantasies down there with you.” She leaned forward. “Alone, in the shelves, the smell of old books all about us...”

Wellington let out a low groan. “Eliza, darling, you don’t need to further inflame the situation. It is quite warm enough in this little room as it is.” He cast his eyes up to the berth suspended above their heads. “Shall we take the director’s advice and get some rest?”

Eliza gave a little pout. “We’ll never make it.”

“
Whatever do you me—”

She tightened her legs against Wellington’s hips, pulled him close with one hand while he grabbed the edge of the berth with the other. Eliza yanked, using Wellington as his own counterweight to pull him down to the floor.

“
I think you will find,” she said, gripping his shirt and tearing it open, “that we are still young and spry enough to take advantage of this floor.”

How long had it been since she had touched Wellington’s skin? She ran her fingertips across his smooth, muscular torso. Her feather touch eventually became firmer, her palm pressing into his flesh. Yes, fieldwork most definitely suited him.

“
You didn’t wear your bullet-proof corset,” she said, bending down to place a soft kiss against his chest. Her tongue flicked his nipple, earning a little jolt from him.

Wellington pushed her up and frantically pulled at her blouse.