Page 95 of New Storm Rising
“I…I…I’m sorry.”
“Leave,” Karim ordered.
“Y-yes, Sir! Right away, Sir!”
Arms flailing, the thug staggered backwards, then turned and ran away down the street, until he disappeared around a corner.
“Ehem.” Clearing his throat, Karim forced himself to bend down towards the boy. And down. And down. And down. “There, there. Are you all right, um…little human?”
“Oh, Mister!” Eyes sparkling, the boy flung his arms around Karim’s leg. Or at least half the way around. “Mister, that was amazing! How did you do that? That was so cool!”
“Um…there, there.” Karim continued patting the boy’s head, squirming. “And here, too. And somewhere else, too. Which is where I need to be. So…I’ll be going now. Goodbye!”
He dashed off down an alleyway, skidded around the corner, and fled for his life.
“Mister! Hey, Mister, where are you going?”
“Who was that?” Other people cautiously emerged into the open, staring after the vanished figure of the bodyguard. “Where did he come from?”
“Did you see how he stood up to those thugs? That was grand!”
“Who is he? Where did he go?”
“I think I saw him before! He was with that tall man in the tailcoat and top hat with the funny accent.”
“You don’t mean…him?”
“Him?”
“Mr Ambrose! That rich Englishman who has been setting up soup kitchens and helping the poor all throughout town!”
“Really? And the man who just sent that bastard packing works for him?”
“Amazing!”
“What a hero! Three cheers for our protector!”
“Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray!”
***
Far, far away, a British businessman and his amazing wife were crouched on a conveniently placed roof, watching the distant happenings. Or at least the one who owned a set of binoculars was watching.
Damn that Mr Ambrose! Hasn’t he ever heard the saying “sharing is caring”?
Most likely he had stuffed his ear in order not to.
“Come on,” I tried. “Let me have a look!”
“No.”
“Just for a minute!”
“No.”
“A second?”
Silence. The refusing kind.
