The Adventures of Modesty Blaise

Episode 1 The Lhasa Incident

 

This pathetic effort is a parody and is only remotely intended to resemble the characters created by Peter O’Donnell.  Other than the names and images of some of the characters all work is original and any resemblance to any of Mr. O’Donnell’s works is purely accidental.

 

Chapter 1  The Assignment

 

MODESTY blaise crossed her long legs and inhaled slowly, allowing the smoke from her cigarette to fill her lungs, and then blew it out in a long controlled exhalation.  Across from her the rugged face of one of her visitors creased in a frown.  “Them damn things will kill ye, ye know,” he growled.

 

Beside the man, her other visitor smiled.  “Rawlins has been on about tobacco ever since the latest article in Lancet describing the dangers of lung cancer.”

 

Modesty allowed the cigarette to dangle loosely from her fingers, but she made no effort to put it down.  “I had no idea you were interested in medical manners Mr. Rawlins.”

 

“He is amazingly well-read,” Sir Gerald Tennant commented, “however we did not come here to discuss the matter of your health, precious as that is to us.”

 

Modesty inhaled again and glanced at the fourth man in the room.  “No I don’t expect you did.  Willie and I were speculating on what intriguing proposal you might have for us.”

 

“Ah yes,” Tarrant replied, setting down his brandy.  “I suppose I should get to the point.”

 

“Please do,” Modesty prompted.  Stubbing out her cigarette, she looked toward Rawlins.  “Another whiskey, Mr. Rawlins?”

 

“Please, miss,” he answered and held out his glass while Modesty poured.

 

Tarrant cleared his throat.  “What do you know of Tibet, Miss Blaise?”

 

“It was invaded by the Chinese in 1950 and subjected to a systematic destruction of its culture beginning with the imprisonment and execution of thousands of Buddhist monks, and the destruction of hundreds of monasteries including the Potala.  Since that time the Chinese have begun a program of colonization to absorb the native Tibetans and have forbidden use of the Tibetan language in schools and other institutions.  All foreigners are excluded from the region.”

 

“Ahem,” Tarrant said.  “I see you know considerably more than the average citizen.  That is good.  The more you know the better.”

 

“Let me guess,” Willie Garvin cut in.  “You want me ‘n the princess to drop in there on some damned foolish errand for MI-5.”

 

The speaker was powerfully built, standing over six feet tall with blond hair mixed with a touch of grey.  He was hunched forward as he spoke, his fingers toying with the glass in his hand and his expression was not exactly friendly. 

 

“It’s alright, Willie,” Modesty said.  “Let’s hear what Sir Gerald has to say.”

 

“Well,” Tarrant said.  “I am afraid Mr. Garvin has it exactly right.  Although I wouldn’t call it a damned fool errand.”

 

“Why me?” Modesty asked.  “I might know a little bit about Tibet, but my knowledge of Chinese is minimal and I know nothing of the Tibetan language.  I would think those would be a serious consideration for any agent.”

 

“Actually your knowledge of Russian might be more useful in this case.  And your considerable athletic skills are certainly an asset.  We have agents who speak Chinese, but ten seconds of exertion on the Tibetan Plateau would leave them so physically exhausted they’d require a day to recover.”

 

“In that case I suppose the next question is why should I be even remotely interested in getting involved in this mission?”

 

Tarrant looked at the beautiful woman who had just spoken.  She was well worth looking at and he always enjoyed the opportunity to look into her dark eyes while not appearing to gawk at her well-shaped breasts which today were modestly covered by a tight-fitting high-necked white cashmere pullover.

 

Her ebony hair was cut close to her head and fitted to the curve of her elegant neck.  Her ears were pierced with a pair of gold earrings set with white opals.  Her lips were tinted the lightest of reds, drawing attention to their fullness, but not distracting the eye from her pert nose, high cheekbones, and finely arched brows.   

 

She sat, almost regally, in a chair of dark leather, showing a good deal of her long, well- shaped thighs before they disappeared into a tight black leather skirt.  A wide belt of linked gold rings girdled her supple waist and a pair of white slippers covered her feet.  Tarrant could see that her skin was lightly tanned, giving her an overall healthy, almost robust, aura. 

 

Tarrant cleared his throat and sipped at his brandy before answering.  “I thought you might like a little fun in addition to the fact that what I have in mind ties in with one of your interests.”

 

“I usually manage to arrange my own fun, Sir Gerald,” Modesty smiled, “but go on.  What interest of mine could possibly tie in with one of your enterprises?”

 

“Have you heard of the “Heart of Tibet?”

 

 “I have,” Modesty replied, her face showing a slight glimmer of curiosity.  “It is reputed to be a ruby of enormous size.  Supposedly it was set into the forehead of the largest Buddha in the Potala, but viewed only by the monks who served the monastery.  But no one has seen it since the invasion.  It disappeared during the Chinese sacking of Tibet and was thought to be lost or even worse, sold to gem merchants who had it cut into smaller stones.”

 

“We have it on the best authority that it and a number of similar gems were pried from the settings and secreted away by the monks who guarded them, and that they are still hidden somewhere in Tibet.”

 

“Now let me guess,” Modesty said.  “Somehow you have learned of their location and want me and Willie to go looking for them.”

 

“Well, yes and no,” Tarrant answered.  “We would like you to go after them, but first there is another obstacle to overcome.”

 

Modesty did not respond, waiting for Tarrant to fill her in.  After another sip at his brandy he continued.  “Have you heard of Alexei Kozlov?”

 

“The Russian defector who first betrayed his country and then went on to a glorious career smuggling arms and forcing young women into sexual servitude?  Yes I have heard of him.  He is apparently a very nasty piece of work.”

 

“Yes, that is the man,” Tarrant confirmed.  “We have learned that he is here in London and has somehow managed to acquire the location of the missing horde of gems.”

 

“I see,” Modesty said.  “Is that where my knowledge of Russian comes in?  You want me to approach him?  Why not simply have someone like Mr.  Rawlins deal with him?”

 

“Actually we tried that.  But Kozlov is playing a devious game.  He is apparently offering his knowledge of the location of the gems to the highest bidder.  He is currently offering his information to several governments, including the Chinese, intending to sell to the highest bidder.  Unfortunately, my budget does not come close to matching what he is asking.”  Tarrant leaned forward.  “What we would like you to do, is to retrieve the information showing the location of the missing gems and then use that to travel to Tibet and hunt them down.”

 

That seems like a lot of effort for pile o’ rocks,” Willie Garvin suddenly interjected.  “What makes ‘em so important?”

 

“As gemstones nothing,” Tarrant answered.  “But as symbols of Tibetan resistance they would be of immense value.  Think of them as the equivalent of the English crown jewels.  They have incredible national significance.”

 

“Gottcha,” Willie said, easing back into his chair.  “But I got one more question.”  He nodded toward Modesty.  “What’s in it for the princess here?”

 

“I hoped someone would ask that question,” Tarrant answered.  “Among the hidden gems are a large number of uncut gems, many of high quality.  I don’t expect anyone would notice if a few of them went missing.”  He looked at Modesty gauging her reaction. 

 

The beautiful woman’s expression did not change, but Tarrant knew he had caught her interest.  After a number of years “acquiring” precious stones and reselling them, Modesty had turned her attention to the art of lapidary and stone-cutting.  She was an expert artisan and her amateur creations rivaled the work of the finest jewelers anywhere in the world. 

 

“Still seems a bit much for the princess to risk her life for,” Garvin stated. 

 

“I agree,” Mr. Garvin,” Tarrant replied.  “But there is one more minor thing.”

 

“And what would that be?” Garvin asked.

 

“Kozlov paid a small fortune for the information describing the location of the hidden gems.  It’s left him a little short of cash.  If he were to suffer a setback it might put a real dent in his organization, especially in his operations dealing with the procurement of young women for the sex trade.”

 

He didn’t look toward Modesty as he answered, but he could sense the impact of his words on her.  The room was suddenly very quiet. 

 

Tarrant got to his feet and looked toward the silent Modesty.  “Thank you for your hospitality Miss Blaise.  I’ll leave you to consider my offer.  If you decide in my favour then you need only contact Mr. Rawlins.  You have his number.”

 

Modesty nodded wordlessly and rose also.  “Yes, Sir Gerald.  It has been nice seeing you again.  I’ll think about what you have said.”  She watched as Willie Garvin escorted the two men to her private elevator.

 

 

YOU’RE a bloody master, Sir Gerald.  I think you’ve got her hooked,” Rawlins said as the elevator descended.  “That was a nice bit about the sex trade.  Seemed to have struck a nerve there.”

 

“It wasn’t as hard as you might think,” Tarrant replied. 

 

“How so?”

 

“I know Modesty Blaise.  She is a bit of an enigma, but she is a woman who has spent years living on the edge.  I expect that she has been left with an unquenchable thirst for adventure.  She hides it well now that she is in supposed retirement, but a life of polishing and setting stones won’t satisfy her.  I’ve just given her a little incentive to return to a life of intrigue and excitement.  You can expect that phone call once she has waited a decent interval.”

 

“I never would have considered that,” Rawlins said. 

 

“That is why I am Sir Gerald and you are Mr. Rawlins,” Tarrant grinned.

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