"Crossing Ruby Kahn"
May. 26th, 2022 08:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dochermes"Crossing Ruby Kahn"
12/29/2013
Sheng was getting worried. He had been tied up before, often by experts, but his special ability to channel gralic force into his body had always enabled him to escape without much trouble. Sitting in that sturdy wooden chair, handcuffs binding his ankles to the legs of the chair and each hand to one arm of the furniture, he felt so frustrated he could scream. The cuffs were a strange design he had heard about but never seen in use. Each had a razor-sharp circle on its inner surface, and any pressure tightening the chain between the cuffs forced those circles inward. It was enough to restrain even the most unruly hardened thugs. Unless they held still, they cut deep gashes in their wrists and ankles. He had found this out the hard way.
What was really driving him crazy was that neither growing either superhumanly strong nor nearly invulnerable was any help. He could certainly increase his muscle power and snap the chain between the cuffs... but doing that would cut through his wrists and drop his severed hands to the floor. The same for his ankles. That seemed too high a price for escape. His other tactic would be using the gralic power to reinforce his skin and muscles and bones until he was nearly indestructible. Then the sharp circles couldn't hurt him but he also couldn't break the handcuffs with just his normal strength. What a mess. His usual sublime confidence was shaken as never before.
He had known Ruby Kahn by chance when she had been young Ruby Connelly who worked at Motor Vehicles, before her marriage and before she hs been lured over into the murky badlands of petty crime by a schemer who called himself Brancatelli. Whatever mastery of pyschological manipulation Brancatelli used, he had a record of dragging civilians into his con games and robberies, and then discarding them so he could move on with the loot. Sheng had always prayed for a chance to beat the hell out of Brancatelli, but the opportunity had never materialized. His own warnings to Ruby had been met with laughter as if he had said something hopelessly naive.
Sitting in that darkened back room, Sheng Mo-Yuan kept coming up with ideas for escape but dismissing them after a moment's thought. The best he could devise was throwing himself violently backward and trying to break the chair up, with the hope he could get an arm or a leg loose. But this seemed to have a low chance of success. The handmade chair felt massive enough to serve as a seat for a rhino. At five feet five and maybe a hundred and fifty pounds, the Chujiran adventurer did not see how he could muster enough impact to damage the chair.
The room was dark, with only a dim nightlight by one wall outlet providing even slight illumination. Well dressed in a light brown suit with a tan shirt and dark narrow tie, Sheng would seem Chinese to any observer. But aside from the skin tone and eyelid fold and coarse black hair, his sharply beaked nose and high cheekbones contradicted the first impression. As far as he knew, he was the only person from the real of Chujir in the world at that time. Ah well. At least, Uncle Pao had not come along on this case. The old man's insistence on traveling upstate to buy traditional herbs and dubious animal parts for medicine meant that he would escape if this was Sheng's last case.
Cold air brushed across him from behind and that scent of jasmine tingled. The door had opened and it had to be Ruby Kahn behind him. She had gone to get her orders from the Brancatelli. This had to mean his assassination. Sheng took a deep slow breath and focussed his gralic force into full resilience. Against any bladed weapon or firearm up to a high-powered rifle, he was now safe but it still worried him that there were other ways. A cloth soaked in chloroform, a spray of some neurotoxin up his nose, even an airtight plastic bag fastened over his head... these would finish him off quickly enough.
"Well, I hope you don't expect any begging," he growled. "Or any hopeless efforts to bribe you. I know better than that."
"Oh shut up," that lilting alto voice replied, but there was an unsteady catch in it. "You've already said too much."
Was she trying not to sob? The hard-hearted Ruby Kahn? It seemed impossible. He heard her come up close behind him, but he could not turn his head far enough to see. "You were right, Stir-Fry," she went on. "Brancatelli was planning to double-cross me. He had all that beautiful money already packed up and his car was warming up by the front door."
"Under the circumstances," he muttered, "I suppose I shouldn't bother to object. But honestly, the nickname 'Stir-Fry' is just wrong on so many levels..."
"Will you shut UP!" she gasped and this time the stress in her voice was overwhelming. "You were right. I couldn't trust him. I broke a heart that's loving and true to run off with Brancatelli and all the time I was being set up. There was no hope that my Lonnie would ever take me back. Even if he could forgive me, I can't forgive myself."
A slender hand reached around with a single key and clumsily unlocked the handcuff on Sheng's right wrist. There was fresh wet blood on Ruby's hand and she dropped the key, which landed precariously on Sheng's knee but did not quite slide off.
"It's all too late," she said. He heard her voice fade and heard the rustle as she slid to the floor behind him. Stretching his free hand, Sheng barely snagged the tiny key and managed to unlock his other cuff. He bent forward and found the key worked on his ankle restraints as well. "Ruby," he said as he freed himself, "How bad are you hurt?"
"Bad as I deserve," she whispered. In another second, Sheng Mo-Yuan was out of the chair and swinging around to kneel over her. The front of the canary-yellow blouse was soaked with red arterial blood. He lifted her head gently, shocked at how pale it was and how the skin was damp with cold sweat. "Where's your phone?" he asked. "I'll get an ambulance here."
"What, to cart away the bodies? Yes, I stabbed Brancatelli, you should have seen the look of surprise on his stupid face. But my mistake.. was not getting out of the way afterwards. He had that damn LCP in his pocket and he tagged me with one shot." Ruby Kahn slumped in Sheng's arms. "I can't feel my legs, Stir-Fry. That's a bad sign."
"If it helps, you did the right thing," Sheng said but he realized she couldn't hear him any more. Slowly, he disengaged himself and stood up in the darkness. "Maybe somehow, somewhere, that will go in your favor," he finished to himself.
8/19/2018
12/29/2013
Sheng was getting worried. He had been tied up before, often by experts, but his special ability to channel gralic force into his body had always enabled him to escape without much trouble. Sitting in that sturdy wooden chair, handcuffs binding his ankles to the legs of the chair and each hand to one arm of the furniture, he felt so frustrated he could scream. The cuffs were a strange design he had heard about but never seen in use. Each had a razor-sharp circle on its inner surface, and any pressure tightening the chain between the cuffs forced those circles inward. It was enough to restrain even the most unruly hardened thugs. Unless they held still, they cut deep gashes in their wrists and ankles. He had found this out the hard way.
What was really driving him crazy was that neither growing either superhumanly strong nor nearly invulnerable was any help. He could certainly increase his muscle power and snap the chain between the cuffs... but doing that would cut through his wrists and drop his severed hands to the floor. The same for his ankles. That seemed too high a price for escape. His other tactic would be using the gralic power to reinforce his skin and muscles and bones until he was nearly indestructible. Then the sharp circles couldn't hurt him but he also couldn't break the handcuffs with just his normal strength. What a mess. His usual sublime confidence was shaken as never before.
He had known Ruby Kahn by chance when she had been young Ruby Connelly who worked at Motor Vehicles, before her marriage and before she hs been lured over into the murky badlands of petty crime by a schemer who called himself Brancatelli. Whatever mastery of pyschological manipulation Brancatelli used, he had a record of dragging civilians into his con games and robberies, and then discarding them so he could move on with the loot. Sheng had always prayed for a chance to beat the hell out of Brancatelli, but the opportunity had never materialized. His own warnings to Ruby had been met with laughter as if he had said something hopelessly naive.
Sitting in that darkened back room, Sheng Mo-Yuan kept coming up with ideas for escape but dismissing them after a moment's thought. The best he could devise was throwing himself violently backward and trying to break the chair up, with the hope he could get an arm or a leg loose. But this seemed to have a low chance of success. The handmade chair felt massive enough to serve as a seat for a rhino. At five feet five and maybe a hundred and fifty pounds, the Chujiran adventurer did not see how he could muster enough impact to damage the chair.
The room was dark, with only a dim nightlight by one wall outlet providing even slight illumination. Well dressed in a light brown suit with a tan shirt and dark narrow tie, Sheng would seem Chinese to any observer. But aside from the skin tone and eyelid fold and coarse black hair, his sharply beaked nose and high cheekbones contradicted the first impression. As far as he knew, he was the only person from the real of Chujir in the world at that time. Ah well. At least, Uncle Pao had not come along on this case. The old man's insistence on traveling upstate to buy traditional herbs and dubious animal parts for medicine meant that he would escape if this was Sheng's last case.
Cold air brushed across him from behind and that scent of jasmine tingled. The door had opened and it had to be Ruby Kahn behind him. She had gone to get her orders from the Brancatelli. This had to mean his assassination. Sheng took a deep slow breath and focussed his gralic force into full resilience. Against any bladed weapon or firearm up to a high-powered rifle, he was now safe but it still worried him that there were other ways. A cloth soaked in chloroform, a spray of some neurotoxin up his nose, even an airtight plastic bag fastened over his head... these would finish him off quickly enough.
"Well, I hope you don't expect any begging," he growled. "Or any hopeless efforts to bribe you. I know better than that."
"Oh shut up," that lilting alto voice replied, but there was an unsteady catch in it. "You've already said too much."
Was she trying not to sob? The hard-hearted Ruby Kahn? It seemed impossible. He heard her come up close behind him, but he could not turn his head far enough to see. "You were right, Stir-Fry," she went on. "Brancatelli was planning to double-cross me. He had all that beautiful money already packed up and his car was warming up by the front door."
"Under the circumstances," he muttered, "I suppose I shouldn't bother to object. But honestly, the nickname 'Stir-Fry' is just wrong on so many levels..."
"Will you shut UP!" she gasped and this time the stress in her voice was overwhelming. "You were right. I couldn't trust him. I broke a heart that's loving and true to run off with Brancatelli and all the time I was being set up. There was no hope that my Lonnie would ever take me back. Even if he could forgive me, I can't forgive myself."
A slender hand reached around with a single key and clumsily unlocked the handcuff on Sheng's right wrist. There was fresh wet blood on Ruby's hand and she dropped the key, which landed precariously on Sheng's knee but did not quite slide off.
"It's all too late," she said. He heard her voice fade and heard the rustle as she slid to the floor behind him. Stretching his free hand, Sheng barely snagged the tiny key and managed to unlock his other cuff. He bent forward and found the key worked on his ankle restraints as well. "Ruby," he said as he freed himself, "How bad are you hurt?"
"Bad as I deserve," she whispered. In another second, Sheng Mo-Yuan was out of the chair and swinging around to kneel over her. The front of the canary-yellow blouse was soaked with red arterial blood. He lifted her head gently, shocked at how pale it was and how the skin was damp with cold sweat. "Where's your phone?" he asked. "I'll get an ambulance here."
"What, to cart away the bodies? Yes, I stabbed Brancatelli, you should have seen the look of surprise on his stupid face. But my mistake.. was not getting out of the way afterwards. He had that damn LCP in his pocket and he tagged me with one shot." Ruby Kahn slumped in Sheng's arms. "I can't feel my legs, Stir-Fry. That's a bad sign."
"If it helps, you did the right thing," Sheng said but he realized she couldn't hear him any more. Slowly, he disengaged himself and stood up in the darkness. "Maybe somehow, somewhere, that will go in your favor," he finished to himself.
8/19/2018
