Team of Seven Heroes Shorts Tales 1; Chapter 21 Finale

The showdown

21.

Sushila saw the descending figure on the rope. He was familiar to her despite his change of attire. He had changed to the uniform, but the look was distinct; the beard and the clumsiness which he descent. He was armed from where she could make out, the pistol on the waist belt. She wanted to reach for the rifle and take aim but hesitated. She saw then a ledge on the climb and moved there. She wanted to wait for him.

“Huh!” The Mullah reached for the pistol but he fumbled and then scrambled for the rope. He looked at her standing there on the ledge which was sufficient to hold more than two of them. He swung over and perched on the ledge before he spoke to her.

“You are from the Guild. I remember you.”

“I am Sushila from the Guild. I was given the task to kill you but was told to hold back while I was with the one named Duncan.” Sushila spoke in her native tongue with the rifle levelled at the Mullah. “I did not know why but that periods of time, I was to be taken in by the man. I fell in with my enemy.”

“Is he here? This Duncan?” The Mullah asked.

“He is dead. He died on my dagger.”

“You are well trained, Assassin of the Guild. Your master will be proud of you.” The Mullah complimented her. “Tell me what motivate you so much? The killing or the love?”

“Both. I love to kill. I also kill for love.” Sushila replied to the Mullah. “One of your slaves was my sister. They are all my sisters. Not of blood but of care. And by ….. country. They died by your deceit.”

“Your sister?  How would I know? I had many of them shipped out or slaved there. I know not their names. They are whores.” The Mullah snapped back. “Just like the ones that died on the hills, they are unknown.”

Sushila was to pull the trigger when the dagger struck at her chest. She staggered on the impact and then looked below. She saw the dagger there at where the heart was located. She was near death, and then she knew she had to do it. It was her task.

Sushila pulled the trigger but the second dagger impacted on her left fingers holding the rifle wooden stock beneath the barrel. She dropped the rifle and then gave one look at her fingers. She had lost two fingers; one severed and the other dangling by the knuckle. She fell to her knees and then her right hand held her left hand at the bloodied ends. It was her weapon, the hands that could kill with a single jab or fist, the hands that held the dagger to strike at the heart or the eyes, the same hands that she intertwined into Duncan’s when they smiled.

“Sushila!” The lady felt herself lifted to lay back against the soft warm flesh. It was not Duncan but the Doctor. He was the one who did this and then held her to comfort.

“I will …” Sushila looked into the eyes of the doctor; and was the man who was to end her life there. “I could not let you kill.” 

‘We are not…. Killer’s. We are …. Murderer’s.” Sushila spoke the truth. Duncan would had wanted it to be told then.

“Thank God you stopped her.” The Mullah still holding onto the rope sighed out in relief. “She was a killer.”

Doctor Watson looked at the Mullah. The other was standing there undecided; to escape or return to the castle. He was the cause of the dead there.

“Who are you, my good man?” The Mullah asked.

“The devil in disguise.” Doctor Watson replied while he reached for the dagger on Sushila’ belt. He tossed the dagger at the Mullah. The dagger struck at the throat and caused the Mullah to drop to his knees. He was trying to speak but the Doctor was past listening. Doctor Watson lowered the lady to the ground when he heard the shouts from above. He then stood up and grabbed the rope. He was leaving the place.

A week later in London, the mathematician lecturer tossed the crumbs towards the pigeons in the park. His companion dressed in the dark grey suit leaned back with the walking stick leaned on his lap.

“I got the update that the Mullah died in the highlands. He was killed by a foreigner. The Regiment investigated the case and the Hidden Ones are disbanded. The Colonel Fleming was transferred to the Intelligence Section; a new one minted by the Empire to counter such threats. They are exclusive and given the orders to kill if needed.”

“More killers, Colonel. I much prefer the simple culling to avoid the contagion. Tell me, Colonel. What happened to the Doctor?”

“I heard he returned to London. He is looking for a new place to stay. He is avoiding the …killing scene.” The Colonel replied. “He may be looking to start a new practice perhaps; healing.”

“A brand new start. Jolly good. I am hoping he won’t get into my issues.” The mathematician smiled. “I heard there is an upcoming chemist by name of Holmes who likes to partake in criminal investigations. Perhaps they shall not meet. Chemistry and Medicine could result in explosive relationship.”

“In my analogy, it’s the brain matters that explode.” The Colonel replied with his right hand fingers mimicking firing the trigger.

“True, but the mathematical probability is … slim but possible with your skills.”

Down at Devon Port, Doctor Watson stood at the pier and looked at the ships. He wanted to get on board and return to the Frontier where he had lived for the last few years. Maybe it was a mistake to come back to London. He was happier at the Frontier.

He was well respected as the healer and the killer.

A complete balance to his ego.

“Sir, did you leave your bag at the bar?” A young boy in the blue sailor suit handed him the leather case he owned. He thanked the boy and took back his case. He looked inside and saw the holster with the daggers sheathed there. He smiled.

A doctor needed his scalpel just as the killer needed his daggers.  Doctor Watson needed both for his renewed ego.