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 7  Breakout

 

CHOW WAS gone when Modesty awoke.  She had fallen into a sleep that more resembled a coma than natural sleep.  Something, however, woke her up, something that she was able to identify as a scream.  “Willy?” she wondered.  Then realized that the screams were mixed with cries for mercy in Tibetan.  For a few seconds she felt relief until she realized that some other poor soul was being brutally tortured.  The thought roused her from her stupor.  Where Chow had gone she had no idea, but she knew that she wasn’t going to be left alone for very long.  With some effort she managed to transfer the small piece of wire she had fixed in her gum line into her fingers.  It wasn’t much to work with, but she had not spent a good part of her life picking locks without retaining some skills. 

 

Doggedly she worked the bit of wire at the lock mechanism.  She had to force herself not to hurry and focus on the task; something that was not easy with the knowledge that Chow or one of the guards might enter the cell at any moment.  Fortunately, the handcuffs were not of the most sophisticated manufacture and with a rewarding click the first cuff released.  With one hand free, it took her even less time to remove the second cuff.  For the first time in several days she was not bound or handcuffed.  The sensation of freedom was almost overwhelming, and completely inaccurate.  She was no longer handcuffed, but there was still a cell door and dozens of guards between her and freedom. 

 

Fortunately Chow had left her a blanket that she could use to cover her nude body while she waited.  She pulled it over her, mindful of the fact that if Chow returned she would have to toss it off to avoid suspicion.  With little more to do than wait she tried to relax, listening for the sounds of approaching footsteps.

 

They came at last and she slipped her hands back into the cuffs while kicking the blanket to the floor.  Closing her eyes she tried to compose herself while the sounds of footsteps halted outside her door.  There was a wait of a few seconds and she could imagine Chow peering through the tiny barred window, making sure that she was still tightly secured.  Then the bolt was thrown back and the door opened.  Chow entered the room.  Fear sharpened her senses and she could tell without seeing him who it was.  Even without recognizing his footsteps she would have known him by the smell of his sweat, a smell with which she had become all too familiar.  She could also tell that he was alone, probably because he planned to enjoy her one more time before continuing to torture her.

 

“Open your eyes, Miss Blaise.  I have been in this game too long to be fooled by someone pretending to sleep.  Open your eyes or I will slap you awake.”

 

Modesty did as Chow instructed, staring up at him with what she hoped was a mixture of fear and defiance.  “You’d no doubt enjoy such a gutless act,” Modesty replied.  “After all I can’t fight back.” 

 

“Still defiant,” Chow replied.  “You amaze me.  You’re right, I would enjoy slapping you and I may do that before I am finished our little session, but I am going to enjoy fucking you a great deal more.”  His hands went to his belt and he began to undo the buckle. 

 

Modesty waited until his pants were around his ankles before making her move.  She came off the bed like a panther, uncoiling in a single smooth motion; the handcuffs gripped in her fists like brass knuckles, and slammed the metal ring of the cuffs between Chow’s eyes.  The huge Chinese staggered back, his feet tangling in his pants and then toppled back, slamming his head against the heavy cell door. 

 

Modesty followed him off the bed and stood over him, her feet on either side of his head, ready to slam her foot into his throat.  But it wasn’t necessary.  Blood flowed from the cut between his eyes and from his right ear.  It was apparent that he probably wouldn’t be a threat for some time, and Modesty made sure that he stayed that way.  Rolling him over she handcuffed his hands behind him and then fashioned a gag out of his underwear and stuffed it into his mouth.  She then used his belt to tie his ankles.  Satisfied with her work she went to the door of the cell and peered into the corridor.  Finding it deserted she took the blanket from the bed and wrapped it about herself.  It wasn’t much of a covering, but it would have to do for now.  She used Chow’s belt to help hold her makeshift gown in place, and then picking up his gun she moved into the corridor.

 

She looked both ways.  To her right the corridor disappeared into darkness, but it was also the direction from which the screams had come.  Guessing that she probably had a few minutes, as Chow would probably have told the guards not to show up until her had enough time to rape her, Modesty started off into the darkness.

 

She went slowly giving her eyes a chance to adapt to the dark, and found that it was not as dark as she had thought.  There was a glimmer of light from the end of the corridor and she slowly moved toward it.  As she got closer she could hear voices and slowed even more, until she was barely moving.  Coming to a corner she poked her head around it and saw the source of the light.

 

Four men were seated at a crude table on equally rustic chairs.  They were deeply engrossed in playing mahjong, laughing and chatting as they clicked the ivory tiles.  Unfortunately for them, they had two things Modesty wanted – a set of clothes that might fit her, and the means to engineer a distraction.  She stepped into the light, her pistol at the ready and her finger to her lips.

 

There was a definite language barrier, but the gun and her signal were unmistakable.  The four men froze and Modesty motioned again, moving her hand in a downward motion.  The guards hit the floor, all but one.  Assuming that she was distracted by the other three, he went for his sidearm.  The crack of Modesty’s pistol echoed down the corridor and the guard dropped, shot through the middle of his body.  “Damn!” she muttered.  “I didn’t need for that to happen.”  Moving quickly, she disarmed the remaining guards and then picked up a heavy ring laden with keys from the top of the table.  Booting the guards to their feet she motioned toward the nearest cell and herded them into it, and then closed and locked the door.

 

The guard she had killed was close to her size, but she refused to put on his bloody shirt.  However, his boots and pants fit her closely enough to see her though until she found something better.  Tossing aside the blanket she grabbed a loose-fitting jacket to cover her upper body and then headed down the corridor, unlocking one cell after the other.

 

She had no idea why the prisoners she released had been incarcerated and she didn’t much care.  What she wanted was to cause as much confusion as possible and turn that to her advantage.  As the prisoners boiled out of their cells and ran for the exits, Modesty headed back toward the interrogation room and the cell where she had last seen Willie.

 

She was breathing hard by the time she reached the room where she had been tortured.  Her ordeal had taken a good deal out of her and what she needed more than anything else was several weeks of rest and recuperation, but that would have to wait.  The cell where Willie was being held (if he was still there) was just ahead.  Normally it would be in an area that was heavily guarded, but this time there remained only a single guard.  The sounds of shooting and the shouts and screams escaping prisoners echoed throughout the vast temple complex.  There was little problem in adding the sound of one more shot to the continual fusillade. 

 

Her bullet took the guard though the chest and he collapsed without a sound.  Moving quickly she found the keys to the cells and went to the one she hoped held Willie.  She got it right first time and almost received a punch in the nose for her troubles. 

 

“Jesus, Princess,” Willie exclaimed.  “I thought you were one of Chow’s wankers.”  Then he got a good look at her and his expression changed to one of rage.  “That bastard,” he growled.  “Where’s that bastard, Chow?”

 

“It’s alright, Willie,” Modesty replied.  “He’s on ice for now.  We still have something to find and probably not much time.”

 

“Princess…” Willie began, but Modesty cut him off.

 

“No, Willie.  I’ve paid a pretty high price on this mission and I’m damned well going to see it through.”  She didn’t add that she would do it alone if Willie refused to come.  Willie Garvin would never abandon her in such a situation. 

 

“Right, Princess,” he said.  He crossed to the fallen guard and looted his sidearm.  “We’d better get going.”

 

The trip back down to the pit where she and Willie had been captured was sheer hell, but Modesty didn’t tell him that.  The adrenaline surge she had experienced when she had escaped was long gone and she was moving under sheer willpower.  But somehow she made it, retrieved the map and made her way to the place where the Heart of Tibet was supposedly hidden.  Without the map it would never have been found.  They ended up in a section of corridor that looked like every other section, facing a blank wall of fitted stone.  Modesty counted according to the map’s instructions.  “Three from the floor and five from the corner.”  She placed her hand on a stone about a foot square and pushed.  Nothing happened and Willie stepped forward.

 

“Here, let me try,” he said, taking out a knife he had filched from the table outside his cell.  It was not one of his beautifully balanced throwing knives, but it was probably just as well considering what he did with it.  Forcing the blade between the blocks of stone he used it as a pry bar and was rewarded when the stone moved.  Grabbing the edge of the stone he eased it out, revealing a cavity about two feet deep. 

 

Modesty stepped forward.  Pointing the torch she had acquired from one of the guards, she peered into the hole.  Inside there was what appeared to be a roll of cloth.  Reaching in she retrieved it, set in on the floor and cut the red ribbon that encircled the bundle.  Slowly she unrolled the bundle and then let out a low gasp of astonishment. 

 

Modesty had seen many gems, many more than she had a right to, but this display took her breath away.  “Encroyable,” she muttered. 

 

“About as pretty a bunch of baubles as I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Willie commented. 

 

“Right,” Modesty commented.  “Now let’s go before anyone thinks to look for us.”  Tying up the bundle once again she stuffed it inside her shirt and then headed back the way they had come. 

 

Somehow, the walk back seemed shorter in spite of the fact that it was uphill all the way.  Buoyed by her success, Modesty managed to push her fatigue behind her and reached the part of the Potala where she and Willie had been imprisoned.  Chaos still reigned and it was not difficult to find their way back to the cell where Modesty had left Chow.

 

Her brutal captor was conscious when they entered the cell, something that made it a lot easier to get him to the room where he had spent two days torturing her.  Chow rolled his eyes as Modesty, with Willie’s help, tied him strappado using the same ceiling chains he had used to bind her.  Then he whimpered in fear as Modesty attached the electrodes to his genitals. 

 

“I’d love to stay and keep you company,” Modesty said as she completed the connections.  “But I have a package to deliver.”  She had hooked up all of the batteries in series.  “I expect the batteries will run down in time, or if you are lucky someone may come looking for you.  Until then, goodbye.”  She threw the switch and left to the sound of Chow’s muffled screams. 

 

 

Epilogue

MODESTY SIPPED delicately at her glass of mint tea and then set the final gem in place.  The perfect circle of emeralds glowed under the bright light she used to illustrate her work.  “That’s a work of art, Princess,” Willie commented.  “A real work of art.”

 

“Isn’t it?” Modesty smiled.  “It was so nice of Tarrant to let us keep these few gems for my collection.”

 

“‘E might not ‘ave been so obliging if you’d told ‘im you found more than the ‘Eart of Tibet,” Willie remarked. 

 

“Do you really think so?” Modesty grinned, fastening the finished pendant about her elegant throat and stepping to the mirror where she could admire her work.

 

“Exquisite,” she thought.  “Some of my best work.  And why not? I paid a very high price for it.”  Her smile gone, she lifted her teacup. 

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