Chapter Thirty-One
Aster turned, her grip tightening on the gun as she followed Amit’s gesture. The street stretched out before them, lined with the colourful facades of village homes, now eerily silent and abandoned. At the far end, where the packed earth gave way to the lush green of the surrounding countryside, a lone figure was approaching.
He was tall, his stride purposeful and unhurried. Even from this distance, Aster could see the outline of a machine gun held casually in his hands. Her heart rate quickened and she raised her own weapon, the unfamiliar weight of it suddenly very real in her grasp.
‘Amit, take shelter,’ she ordered, her voice low and urgent.
But Amit shook his head, standing firm beside her. ‘Respectfully, I will not.’
Aster turned to him, exasperation mixing with fear. ‘Priya will kill me if anything happens to you.’
A ghost of a smile flickered across Amit’s face. ‘She will kill me if anything happens to you .’
For a moment, Aster was struck by the absurdity of their situation - arguing over who would face potential death whilst an armed stranger approached. She let out a short, humourless laugh. ‘Very well. If it’s just one man, maybe he has come to talk.’
‘Yes, I am hoping this also,’ Amit agreed, his eyes never leaving the approaching figure.
Aster raised her phone, using the camera to zoom in on the lone man. As his features came into focus, she felt as though the ground had suddenly shifted beneath her feet. A broken laugh escaped her lips, equal parts relief and disbelief.
Walking towards them, with an impossibly wide grin on his face, was Edward. He even had the audacity to give her a little wave, as casual as if he were greeting her at a London café rather than in the midst of a potential war zone.
Aster’s mind whirled. How on earth had he found her? Why was he here? And more importantly, what did his presence mean for the danger they were facing?
With shaking hands, she turned the phone back to her own face, unmuting the call with her sisters. Their worried faces filled the screen, a chorus of concerned voices overlapping.
‘Girls,’ Aster cut in, unable to keep a note of bewildered amusement from her voice, ‘I don’t know what’s going on, but I think the cavalry has arrived. Paddy, do you recognise him?’
Paddy’s eyes widened in recognition. ‘Is that-’
‘Yes. It is,’ Aster confirmed. ‘Don’t ask me how. I’m hanging up now, but I’ll call you back as soon as I have details.’
She ended the call and slipped the phone into her pocket, her eyes never leaving Edward’s approaching figure. Beside her, Amit shifted uneasily.
‘Is this man a friend?’ he asked, uncertainty clear in his voice.
Aster hesitated for a moment before answering. ‘I believe so.’
As Edward drew nearer, his smile seemed impossibly to grow wider. He stopped a few yards away, close enough now that Aster could see the fine sheen of sweat on his brow, the dust coating his boots. He looked utterly out of place in his tailored trousers and crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned, muscular forearms. The only thing that belied his casual appearance was the very real, very deadly machine gun in his hands.
‘Do you want to put your gun away?’ Edward asked, his tone light, as though he were commenting on the weather.
Aster’s grip on her own weapon tightened. ‘You first.’
Edward’s smile didn’t waver. ‘Not going to happen. Not until I know the threat has passed.’
‘She is very threatening,’ Amit interjected fervently. ‘She can shoot you dead before you raise your gun. This I can promise you.’
Edward’s eyes flickered to Amit, a hint of amusement in their depths. ‘I don’t doubt that, sir. But I meant the threat of the armed outlaws we chased on our way here. Some peeled off, we’re chasing them down.’
Amit’s face paled at this information. ‘They’ll be making for their compound,’ he said urgently. ‘They have captured several of our villagers. Don’t let them hurt them.’
Aster had a thousand questions burning on the tip of her tongue, but Amit’s words pushed them all aside. The safety of the villagers had to take priority.
Edward nodded, his expression turning serious. He unclipped a radio from his belt and began speaking rapidly in English, relaying the information about the captured villagers. Aster listened intently, trying to piece together what was happening from Edward’s side of the conversation.
As Edward listened to the reply, Aster watched his shoulders visibly relax. It was only then that she realised how tightly wound he had been, the tension in his body belying his casual demeanour.
Edward re-clipped the radio to his belt, a sigh of relief escaping him. He turned to Amit, a warm smile spreading across his face. ‘We have your villagers. They’re safe. The bandits are all dead, including the ones that were racing to Kolkata.’
The change in Amit was instantaneous. With a cry of joy, he rushed forward, enveloping Edward in a bear hug that seemed to surprise the taller man. Then, without a word, Amit turned and ran back into the heart of the village.
A moment later, the air was filled with the resonant sound of a gong, its deep tones echoing across the empty square. Amit’s voice followed, calling out to the villagers in rapid Bengali, summoning them back from their hiding places.
Edward turned back to Aster, his eyebrows raised in amusement. ‘Hello. You can put the gun down now.’
Aster stared at him, her mind still struggling to process everything that had happened in the last few minutes. Slowly, she lowered the gun, surprised to find her hand was shaking. The adrenaline that had been keeping her focused was ebbing, leaving her feeling oddly hollow.
‘Hi,’ she managed, her voice hoarse. ‘I guess you were in the neighbourhood?’
‘Something like that,’ Edward replied, his eyes serious as they scanned her face, checking for any signs of injury or distress.
‘How did you know we were in trouble?’
Edward's face grew serious. ‘It's a bit of a long story,’ he began. ‘I was actually flown out here at the request of the British government. They had concerns about a very prominent member of the British establishment.’
Aster's curiosity was immediately piqued. ‘Really? Who?’
Edward shook his head. ‘I can't disclose that, I'm afraid. What I can tell you is that they knew this individual had significant interests in India. The government felt it would be better to investigate quietly abroad before focusing on his British activities.’
‘And how does that relate to our situation?’ Aster pressed, her curiosity piqued.
‘As I investigated, I heard rumours that this person had interests in textiles. Then someone mentioned he was involved in something up in the area around your village.’ Edward's expression darkened. ‘Given what I knew about his other activities, I immediately feared the worst.’
Aster nodded slowly, processing this information. ‘So, you just happened to have a team of mercenaries on speed dial?’
Edward's lips quirked in a half-smile. ‘Something like that. Bill and his team have worked with me before. When I suspected you might be walking into danger, I called them in as a precaution.’
A shiver ran down Aster's spine at the thought. She looked at Edward, really looked at him, and felt a swell of gratitude. ‘Thank you,’ she said softly. ‘I mean it. You saved a lot of lives today.’
Edward's expression softened, and for a moment, Aster felt as though she could see right through his carefully constructed facade to the man beneath. ‘You're welcome,’ he said simply. ‘Though I have to admit, I'm relieved I could connect the dots in time. This whole situation is bigger than I initially thought.’
The implications of Edward's revelation were breathtaking. ‘We'll need to discuss this further,’ she said. ‘But for now, let's focus on the immediate situation.’
Aster started to pace the office. She wanted to call her sisters, but until she knew the full situation, she held back. Instead, she tried to process her feelings for Edward. That was the second time he had saved her from a near-death experience and she was feeling decidedly ungrateful. She was not a damsel in distress, she was the knight in shining armour. She was the one who rode in and saved the day. Waiting for rescue was not in her DNA.
Now he was sitting typing rapidly into a satellite phone and Aster wondered who he was communicating with. If he left the phone unattended, she would have a look, but she knew satellite phones were notoriously difficult to unscramble.
Half an hour of nail-biting agony later, the thunderous roar of engines shattered the uneasy calm that had settled over the village. Three Land Rovers rumbled into view, their dark green paint dulled by a thick layer of dust. The vehicles were battered and scarred, telling tales of countless missions across unforgiving terrain. They lurched to a stop in the village square.
As the dust settled, the doors of the Land Rovers swung open with a synchronised precision that spoke of military training. The men who emerged were a far cry from the polished, uniformed soldiers Aster might have expected. Instead, they looked like a motley crew of hardened adventurers, each one radiating an aura of barely contained danger.
The first man to step out was a giant of a fellow, easily topping six and a half feet. His massive frame was squeezed into cargo trousers and a tight-fitting black t-shirt that did little to hide his muscular physique. A shock of red hair and a bristling ginger beard gave him the appearance of a Viking warrior transplanted into the modern day. He carried a high-powered rifle with the casual ease of someone handling an everyday tool.
Following him was a lean, wiry man with skin the colour of burnished mahogany. He moved with the fluid grace of a dancer, but his eyes were sharp and alert, constantly scanning the surroundings. A series of tribal tattoos snaked up his arms, disappearing beneath the sleeves of his sand-coloured shirt. A wickedly curved knife was strapped to his thigh, and Aster had no doubt he knew how to use it with lethal efficiency.
From the second Land Rover emerged a pair that could have been twins – both of medium height with close-cropped dark hair and identical grim expressions. They wore matching tactical vests over plain t-shirts and moved in perfect unison as they secured the perimeter. The only way to tell them apart was the jagged scar that ran down the left cheek of one of them.
The third vehicle disgorged a man who seemed oddly out of place among his comrades. He was older, with silver streaks in his dark hair and lines etched deeply around his eyes. He wore khaki trousers and a rumpled linen shirt, looking more like an absent-minded professor than a mercenary. But the way he carried himself, and the respect the others seemed to afford him, made it clear he was a key member of the team.
The team moved with purpose, each knowing his role without need for verbal communication. Some took up defensive positions, their weapons at the ready, whilst others began to efficiently unload equipment from the vehicles.
The air was thick with tension as the villagers, who had begun to cautiously emerge from their hiding places, watched these strangers with a mixture of fear and awe. The mercenaries’ presence was both reassuring and intimidating – clearly a force to be reckoned with, but an unknown quantity in this small, rural community.
From the back of one of the vehicles, five figures were carefully helped down to the ground. These were the rescued villagers, looking tired and dishevelled but mercifully unharmed. For a moment, there was a hushed silence as the reunited families stared at each other in disbelief. Then, as if a dam had burst, the square erupted into joyous chaos. A young woman in her late teens, wearing a simple white tank top and a long red skirt, looked around the crowd. Hitching up her skirts, she ran barefoot across the earth road.
‘Mami, Dadi!’
As she ran, Aster could see a bleeding wound around one of her ankles. Fresh blood poured over her filthy feet as she raced into Amit’s and Priya’s hug. As the three of them embraced, Aster nodded grimly. The mercenaries may have killed the kidnappers, but someone was still behind this enterprise and they had a debt to pay.
The air filled with cries of relief and happiness as family members rushed forward. Tears flowed freely as husbands embraced wives, parents clutched children, and friends greeted friends. The sounds of laughter, sobbing, and rapid-fire Bengali blended into a cacophony of raw emotion that was almost overwhelming in its intensity.
Amidst this outpouring of feeling, the mercenaries maintained their vigilance. Their eyes continued to scan the surroundings, hands never straying far from their weapons. They were islands of controlled calm in a sea of unbridled emotion.
Edward made his way through the crowd towards a short, stocky man with an eye patch who had emerged from the lead vehicle. Despite his diminutive stature, the man exuded an aura of authority that made it clear he was in charge. His remaining eye, a steely grey, seemed to take in everything at once.
As Edward conversed with the leader in low, urgent tones, Aster watched the mercenaries disperse. Some headed towards the outskirts of the village, no doubt to secure the perimeter. Others set up communications equipment, establishing a temporary base of operations in the heart of the village.
The contrasts were stark – these hardened warriors with their high-tech gear, moving amongst the humble dwellings and simple lives of the villagers. It was as if two worlds had collided, the modern and the traditional, the global and the local, all converging in this small, dusty square in rural India.
As Aster took in the scene, her analytical mind was already working overtime. Who were these men? How had Edward summoned them here?
She was pulled from her thoughts by Amit’s appearance at her elbow. His face was flushed with excitement, his eyes shining with a mixture of relief and anticipation. ‘Oh, my beautiful girl is home. She and her mother are weeping for joy. This is the most auspicious day. Never did I doubt you. There will be a huge celebration,’ he announced, his voice barely containing his joy. ‘Edward and his men will be our most honoured guests. We must prepare!’
As Amit hurried off again to oversee the preparations, Aster’s gaze was drawn back to Edward. He looked exhausted and Aster wondered if he had more at stake than she knew.