| GARDEN PARTY by Mark mark-coop4000@tiscali.co.uk The grounds of the house were packed with people. It was an annual event that was held by the current Black Queen, Donna Hetman, and she had invited all her friends, associates and those underlings who owed their positions to her. Unfortunately, the King was unable to attend, but this didn’t bother Donna – she was looking forward to the day and the adulation it would bring to her in her ceremonial capacity. As she stood at her window, looking out across the grounds of the mansion and taking in the veritable sea of guests adorned in the same dark colours, she paused for a moment to consider her reflection. Donna had never been a slight woman by any stretch of the imagination, and now with her considerable body weight at just about three hundred pounds had led many to question her suitability for her role as the Black Queen. However her doubters were soon silenced – either by her words or her actions. * * * * “You know the rules,” Sebastian Torres – one of the two current Black Knights – said. “On the first of the month, everyone except the King is a viable target.” “So, what you’re saying is that the only time anyone can be replaced and you can advance within the organisation is just on the first of the month?” Tom Bauer replied. “Well, not quite,” Sebastian clarified. “Say someone in the Minor Pieces is lost on an operational mission, if your standing is sufficient then you might get promoted.” He paused for a second, considering what he was going to say next. “Okay, if the Black Rook died then the King could decide to promote one of the Pawns to that role, or he could let the Pawns fight it out between themselves for the position, that’s always fun to watch,” Tim nodded. “But the only time you can act of your own volition is on the first of the month.” “Okay,” Tom said. “So what about the King?” “The King is a protected position and can only be challenged by the Queen – but that’s only at the Spring Equinox. There hasn’t been a successful challenge to the King of either side in over a decade.” Sebastian said as he stopped one of the staff that was carrying a tray of canapés. After scooping up one of the appetisers, Sebastian sent him on his way. “The value of the King in the organisation is paramount – it just wouldn’t do for people to be challenging him left, right and centre. Didn’t they tell you all this in your orientation?” “Well, yeah,” Tom answered. “But it pays to make sure I’m on the right track.” He took a swig from the bottle of water he had with him. “And the White Pieces don’t follow the same structure as us?” Sebastian shook his head. “No,” Sebastian answered. “They are all free form and independent. Whereas we follow orders from the Royal Pieces, they can do whatever they want with only minimal interference from above.” He could see that his junior associate looked confused. “Okay, let me explain it like this - we’re like a corporation whereas they are more like terrorist cells.” “Sounds…disorganised.” Tom replied. Sebastian nodded as he glanced across the sea of people in the gardens of the mansion and saw someone he recognised. Handing his drink to Tim, he buttoned his jacket up. “Look, I’m going to mingle, why don’t you get ready for the Queen’s Speech.” * * * * She stood and admired the fountain, finding peace and symbolism within the cascading flow of water that gushed from the concrete structure of the gothic fountain. Her eyes were mesmerised by the way the light reflected in the water. “I don’t remember seeing your name on the guess list Melissa,” Sebastian said as he approached the woman who was dressed completely in white. “And I’m pretty certain that the invitations said that guests should not wear white.” “It’s always good to see you Sebastian,” the woman replied. “However, I should have made sure you were dead the last time we met.” Melissa turned to face Sebastian. “I can assure you that it’s a mistake I won’t be repeating.” The movement of her body was almost a blur to Sebastian, however he managed to take a step back and reached with his left hand toward the gun secured in the holster on his belt. Sebastian was able to pull it loose, hoping that he would be able to make the shot before Melissa reached him. However, he only was able to watch it leap out of his hand and into the thick hedgerow as Melissa’s right foot kicked out and sent it flying. Not missing a beat, Sebastian rained down a series of quick-fire punches – forcing Melissa to block them. He feigned a powerful left, hoping to catch her off guard and follow up with a blow from the right as she was exposed, however Melissa saw the move in time. She grabbed his wrist with her right hand, twisting it painfully, then raised it up high and turned alongside Sebastian, slamming her left elbow into his exposed armpit. The ferocity of the blow hitting a major nerve centre numbed his arm, while the force dislocated his shoulder. Sebastian started to cry out from the pain of the blow, but Melissa covered his mouth with her hand, and pushed him against the edge of the fountain. She slammed her knee into his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him. Melissa recalled her training; her effectiveness depended on three keys; be quick, be powerful, and be quiet. At the moment, she felt she violated at least two of those rules. She thought she could have put him away with a blow to the nose or throat, but not without having the risk of him calling for help. In any case, she needed to end this conflict quickly. She acted quickly, spinning Sebastian around as she grabbed a handful of his hair. Another swift knee into his side buckled him over, and a heavy kick to his knee made her job all the more easier. Melissa then immersed his head in the cool blue water of the fountain. He struggled against her, but her assault had already robbed him of the strength needed to counter her plan. “I’m sorry to have to kill you in such an undignified manner Sebastian,” Melissa said as his struggles weakened. “However I’m sure you would have done the same had our positions been reversed.” His one good arm finally stopped moving, followed by a few twitches in his legs. Melissa held his head under the water for another few minutes before she was satisfied that he was dead. Lifting up his legs, she pushed his body into the fountain, knowing it would be some time before anyone found him. * * * * Tom was cursing under his breath as he looked around the grounds of the house. It had been nearly twenty minutes since Sebastian had disappeared into the crowds and he wasn’t responding on his short wave radio. Tom found himself wandering around the furthest reaches of the grounds, expecting to find Sebastian huddled somewhere with one of the guests, half naked from the waist down. However, when he finally found him floating face down in the ornamental pool, Tom knew that things were about to go from bad to worse. He pulled the short wave from his pocket and took a deep breath. “This is Pawn Nine – security has been compromised. Protect the Queen, I repeat, protect the Queen.” * * * * Kate Mariska had been relishing her assignment to cover all matters of the internal security of the Queen’s residence. She hesitated to call it a palace – more like a stately home – yet her rapid rise through the ranks of the Organisation to the role of Pawn had made her someone that the Royal Pieces had kept a close eye on. Her lack of field experience had been something many had raised as a reason for holding her back, however the Black Queen herself had promoted her to the rank of Pawn. Kate had devoted herself to ensuring that faith in her was repaid by running a tight ship. “This is Pawn Nine – security has been compromised. Protect the Queen, I repeat, protect the Queen.” Kate heard the warning from Tom in her earpiece and her mind kicked into gear. She made her way through the main corridor of the house towards the stairs that led up to the Queen’s bedroom. She cleared the stairs two at a time, running through her evacuation plan to remove the Queen to safety. Reaching the first floor landing, Kate looked to her right and saw that the path to the concealed emergency exit was clear. She turned to her left. Kate’s mind registered the blurred white figure moving towards her far too late to react. The blow to her throat crushed her windpipe – she staggered back slightly before falling to her knees, trying desperately to breath. She looked up at the figure – and saw Melissa’s hands reaching down to grasp her head. Kate registered the sensation of ligaments and vertebrae being twisted into an unnatural angle before her world went black. Melissa didn’t give the dead Black Pawn a second thought as she resumed her path towards the lair of the Black Queen. * * * * Donna heard the beeping sound from her phone. She shuffled across to her dressing table and looked at the message she had received. Data acquired – Black Bishop Donna smiled as she read the message, hoping that the information that the Black Bishop’s team had secured could help them secure the upper hand over the White organisation. “I hope that message is useful,” the voice from the doorway was unfamiliar to Donna. “To your successor.” She saw Melissa enter her room. Donna turned her not inconsiderable frame to face the woman dressed in white before her. “I see you’ve managed to evade my security,” Donna said as she took stock of her unexpected visitor. “I believe the correct term is eliminated.” Melissa replied as she walked towards Donna. “Which is what I intend to do to you.” * * * * After he’d received no response from Kate, Tom had made his way into the main building and began to sweep his way through each room. He found himself secretly hoping that he’d find Kate’s lack of a response to be due to some technical problem, but he knew that if the White operative had been able to dispose of Sebastian then a newly-promoted Pawn wouldn’t pose a threat to them. As he began to walk up the stairs he saw Kate’s body lying at the top of them – her head at an unnatural angle to the rest of her body and lifeless eyes staring out at the world around her. He took a deep breath as he heard the sounds of blows being traded from further down the hall. * * * * Melissa smashed her right foot into Donna’s side – the increased body mass of the Black Queen absorbed the force of the blow as she countered by snatching at her attacker’s foot. Grasping the ankle, she twisted and put her weight into lifting Melissa off her feet. Donna spun her body around with a grace that stunned Melissa – she had never believed a woman of such size could move with such agility – however her thoughts were replaced by thought numbing pain as Donna slammed her into the side of her dressing table. Without releasing Melissa’s foot, Donna whipped her leg upwards, snatching Melissa away from the floor and back down again like an animal trainer cracked a whip. Melissa screamed in pain – something in her hip had been torn free and her body was letting her know that. Donna then swung her around again, evoking images in her mind of her days when she competed in college with the shot put. Melissa was driven against one of the posts that held the canopy above Donna’s bed and felt several ribs crack. She hit the floor with a thud as she felt the blood fill her mouth. She tried to move but found her right leg completely unresponsive. Tom reached the doorway with his gun drawn to find Donna – looking dishevelled but otherwise unhurt – standing over Melissa. “Are you okay?” He asked, keeping his gun trained on the woman in the now torn white dress. “I…am fine…young…man,” Donna said, catching her breath after her recent physical exertion. “Okay, I’ll take it from here.” Tom said, moving into the room. “No, it’s okay – I’ll deal with this interloper who thinks she can ruin my day.” Donna replied. She reached down and turned Melissa over so that she was looking up at the Black Queen. “Such a pretty face,” Donna said as she stood over Melissa, who was coughing up blood. Donna then belly-flopped herself onto the upper part of Melissa’s torso – the impact of the three hundred pound woman hitting the floor after a four feet standing drop made the various ornaments in the room jump. Tom felt the impact and watched as Donna smothered the woman beneath her. He could see Melissa’s hands frantically clawing and scratching at Donna, but to no avail. Melissa struggled for another ninety seconds before her arms fell to the floor, her legs sporadically flinching for another minute or so after that. Donna then hauled herself up from the dead woman and walked over to her full length mirror. “Get rid of the body,” she instructed Tom. “Also, inform my guests that I’ll be delayed - I’ll need to change my dress.” * * * * Even in the darkness of the dead of night, she knew he was there. Ella Springer rolled over in bed and could see his silhouette in the doorway. “What are you doing here Tom?” She said. He stepped into her bedroom and threw his tie onto her dresser before sitting on the edge of her bed. “I…I couldn’t save the White Bishop.” Tom said. Ella sat up in bed and moved behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders and rubbing the muscles, trying to relieve the tension. “I’ve never seen such bulk get results like that – she…she just destroyed her with brute force…it was terrifying…yet amazing at the same time…” “That’s why she’s the Black Queen.” Ella mused. “You shouldn’t be here,” Ella whispered as she placed her head against the top of his back. “If they find out…” “They won’t find out,” He said. “The information in the White Chancellor’s files is out of date.” “Okay then, my White Knight,” Ella said as Tom looked into her eyes. “Maybe you should come to bed and we’ll talk about it in the morning.” |