xp_logs | Kashmir Waltz: The Demon Rum (Reply)

Later in the day, Nathan, Angelo and Samie have a less-than-friendly encounter with the enraged father of a mutant teenager in one of the villages. They get out with no blows thrown, but an enterprising young thief rifles through their bags while their backs are turned and Nathan winds up missing something that he would have preferred not to lose.

This stop-off had started just like all the others: they arrived in the village, people came out to greet them, and Nathan, with Samie's help, sounded them out on the subject of DRMA. This time, though, they hadn't been talking for more than a few minutes when one of the doors slammed open and a man stormed out, shouting. Nathan, who'd watched one of the men sidle away to that very house, hadn't been all that surprised.

Sam shrank back towards him, away from the clearly agitated man. Nathan laid a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder. "What's he saying?" he asked calmly.

"Oh, more or less 'get out of here before I kill you'," Samie said nervously. "Nathan..."

"It's all right." The rest of the little crowd wasn't reacting to the shouting man with anything but wariness from most, and impatience from a few. They knew him, Nathan processed; they'd expected this, too. Odd.

Angelo moved forward to stand on Samie's other side. "It's okay," he confirmed quietly. "Nathan can handle one guy easily, even if he does try somethin'."

"Ask him why he's angry," Nathan said to Samie, his eyes locked on the man. Middle-aged, perfectly average-looking for backcountry Kashmir. Obvious signs of recent stress, though. There were images in his mind, of a young boy with an obvious physical mutation - scaled skin and a tail - and his thoughts were more agitated in proximity to those images. "Ask him about his... son?"

Samie looked up at him, then said something placating-sounding to the man as he stomped over. Whatever it was, it was considerably more than just a simple question, and the man stopped, looking hard at Nathan before he snarled something in response. The aura of immediate violence had faded, at least.

"He says it's none of our business," Samie said, her voice a little unsteady. "He says that if you know, you must be with them."

Angelo's eyes hardened. "Them? The government? What did they do?"

Samie extended her hands palms-up, almost as if to show that she held no weapons, and then spoke rapidly to the still-angry man. Whatever it was, it was quite a speech, and Nathan actually took his eyes off the man to watch her, startled by how impassioned she sounded. He was picking out maybe one word in five. Or maybe ten.

The man eyed her suspiciously and then spat something back. Samie bit her lip. "He says his son is not leaving," she translated for Nathan and Angelo. The man ranted on for a moment, and Samie waited until he stopped to take a breath before continuing. "Their family have always lived here and his son is not leaving, no matter how much money we push at them. He still thinks we're from the government."

The man snarled and made an angry gesture at them, shaking his fist. Samie shrank farther away and Nathan stepped forward, his expression cold. The angry father blinked and took a step back.

Angelo wrapped an arm around Samie, instinctively. "It's okay. He's not goin' to hurt you."

"Let's go," Nathan said in a monotone. "The two of you ahead of me." He waited until Samie and Angelo had started back towards the Jeep before he turned, the back of his neck prickling. The man had nothing at hand to throw, no weapon, but he still didn't like turning his back on him. That level of protective paternal fury...

There was a kid rifling through their bags on the Jeep. "Hey!" Nathan said angrily. "Leave it alone!" Samie called out something in Kashmiri and then hurried towards the Jeep. The kid - boy or girl, Nathan couldn't tell - looking up, startled, and then was gone, vanishing like a rabbit into the woods.

"So," Angelo said darkly. "Not everybody's as happy to take what they're bein' "offered" as Aisha was."

"We should have figured as much," Nathan said, reaching the Jeep and starting to look through the bag to see what had been taken. He ought to have been paying more attention, damn it. And chasing down the kid wasn't an option, not with the mood in the village what it was already.

"Many of these rural villages are very traditional," Samie ventured, glancing back over her shoulder nervously as she checked her own bag, although it was apparently untouched. She hopped up into the Jeep and sat there, slouching again.

Angelo glanced quickly through his bag, then went to join her in the back of the jeep again. "It's not a bad thing the guy wanted to keep his kid here, safe. He wasn't to know who we are."

"Not a bad thing at all," Nathan said, and managed to keep the distress off his face and out of his voice as he realized that the little leather bag had been opened. He checked the contents. The antivirals were still there, thank fuck, but a couple of the other bottles were missing. The painkillers - not a big deal - and the new medication, for the seizures. Fuck.

Angelo peered back at him, eyes worried. "Everythin' still there?"

Nathan zipped the bag shut again, and quickly checked the rest of the duffel. "No, but it's nothing I can't live without," he said quietly, getting into the driver's seat. He'd tell Angelo later. No need to make awkward explanations in front of Samie. "At least for a few days."

Angelo wasn't sure he liked the sound of that, but he nodded, leaning back against the seat. "Okay,"

Nathan cast his mind out in the direction of the young thief, but the child was still running, and from the looks of it, the angry father was beginning to rabble-rouse among the other members of the village. Time to go, definitely. "All right then. Next stop Sonamarg," he said with a sigh.

They arrive in Sonamarg and meet Nathan's old friend Duncan, who promises to do some poking around for information about DRMA on his own. It's turning into a rather nice evening when the local morality police show up to complain that Duncan's bar serves alcohol. A bar brawl ensues. Then celebratory drinking ensues.

Sonamarg was both larger and considerably different from the villages they'd seen. It was a trekking base, first and foremost, and the town was built around the industry. Most of the houses were cabins of various types, some of them quite large, and there were more vehicles of various types right here than they'd seen since Sringar. Shops catered to the trekkers and climbers who came through here on a regular basis, and there were far more Western-looking faces on the street here than just about any other street in Kashmir, Nathan imagined.

He pulled up beside a long, low building with a brightly painted sign in Kashmiri, English, Hindi, French, German and Punjabi, proclaiming it to be 'Duncan's Redoubt'. "Samie, why don't you come in with us and get something to eat?" he suggested. "I'll pay for your room for the night. There won't be any treks leaving until morning."

Samie brightened. "You're being entirely too generous," she said.

"Nah, it's payment for you translatin' for us," Angelo said with a lazy grin, adding conspiratorially, "Anyway, Nathan can afford it."

"Ah-hah! I've fallen in with a rich man, that's the explanation," Samie said cheerfully, hopping down and grabbing her bag.

"You should meet my wife," Nathan said wryly, grabbing his bag and heading inside, leaving the two kids to follow. The bar, which took up the front half of the building, wasn't quite crowded, but it clearly had a healthy clientele. Again, mostly Western, obviously tourists...

"NATHAN!" A red-haired and bearded man who topped Nathan's own not-inconsiderable height by at least three or four inches came out from around the bar, laughing madly. "Dayspring, you bastard!" he said, throwing his arms around Nathan in a bear hug. "You're still alive. Will wonders never cease!"

Angelo raised his eyebrows, guessing this was Duncan. "Friend of yours, Nathan?"

"Ow - fuck, Duncan, mind the ribs," was Nathan's first response. Duncan merely laughed and released him, taking a step back, and Nathan made a face at him before glancing at Angelo and Samie. "Angelo, Samie, this is Duncan Murray. Old colleague. He married a local girl a few years back-"

"-and she's still entirely too good for me-"

"-who's entirely too good for him, and stayed to set this place up. Duncan, this is Angelo, one of my students, and Samie. We picked her up by the side of the road and discovered she was a professional-quality translator."

Samie blushed prettily, and Duncan grinned widely at her. "Translator, hmm? And student?" he asked, looking at Angelo, then at Nathan. "Bridge said something about you teaching back Stateside, last time he and the others were here. I have to admit I laughed."

"It's true, I swear." Nathan couldn't keep the warm smile off his face, and didn't try. He was quite fond of Duncan, who'd sheltered the Pack when one of the nuke-hunting missions had gone very, very wrong, and it had been a couple of years since they'd seen each other. "Rather liking it, too."

"Good God, man. Invasion of the bloody pod people. Well, come in, sit down..." Duncan directed them to a table and then waved at a young man who emerged from the back room. "Take over the bar, Mikey, and send us over some drinks."

"Not a student anymore," Angelo pointed out cheerfully as he sat down. "Not really."

Nathan gave him a mock-baleful look. "Former student," he amended, "who's getting too big for his britches."

Duncan laughed. "I was expecting you yesterday, Nate. Something come up?"

"Car trouble."

"Ah. Of the mechanical sort?" He winked at Samie. "As you and I know, lass, there are all different kinds of car trouble in Kashmir, some of them less enjoyable than others."

"We haven't had any trouble, no," Nathan said, sprawling in the chair. "Damn, this place has settled down a lot since the last time I was here... the Indian government putting something in the water?"

"Not that I'm aware of. We're all keeping our fingers crossed that it lasts." Duncan said. The young bartender came over with a tray holding a bottle and four glasses. Duncan poured, glancing at Angelo. "So I'm guessing this young lady's a native, and I know this old dog's been around the block here often enough - your first time in this part of the world, Angelo?"

"My first time on this continent," Angelo said with a wry grin. "Before this, I'd only been in America, Mexico an' on Muir."

"Ah, well, it's a lovely place," Duncan said, smiling contentedly. "Occasional fits of unrest aside. So," he said, looking at Nathan. "You said something about DRMA when you called?"

Nathan nodded and filled him in, succinctly and quietly, on the reason for the trip and their village encounters on the way up. "... so obviously, there's something going on," he said. "I'm just not sure what."

"Huh." Duncan took a sip of his drink, looking contemplative. "We don't get much activity from the NGOs up here, obviously - the trekking brings in a lot of money, and the locals here are probably better off than most."

Angelo, not having much to contribute to the conversation, was looking around the bar with interest. This was derailed slightly when Samie started running her foot up his leg, giggling quietly.

Nathan tried not to snort at the two of them. Maybe he should have sent them off to look into potential trekking groups for Samie after all. "You still serve food around this place, Duncan?" he asked. "I think the children are suffering from low blood sugar."

Duncan laughed. "Head on up to the bar and get Mikey to tell you the daily specials," he said to Angelo and Samie. "I'd recommend the lamb."

---

"So what precisely are you doing, Nathan?"

Nathan raised an eyebrow at Duncan's amused look. "Precisely what it looks like I'm doing," he said quietly. "Investigating DRMA. What, you don't believe me?"

"Well, you'll have to forgive me, Nate. I don't disbelieve that you do have the humanitarian interest - you always struck me as the type, I'll admit that up front. I'm just not sure," Duncan went on, still looking terribly amused, "that there isn't something else behind all of this."

Nathan stared at him for a moment, then smiled. "There is," he murmured, "but I'm not explaining. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough," Duncan said equably, raising his glass almost in salute. "I never made the mistake of thinking you were uncomplicated, Dayspring. And I don't see anything particularly dangerous to me in what you're asking about, so I'll do what I can to find out more about what they're doing."

"Sounds like a plan." The warm smile lingered. "I appreciate this, Duncan. I owe you. Another one."

"Oh, hell, don't tell me you're still thinking you owe me for giving you all a place to stay back in '01?" Nathan opened his mouth, but Duncan shook his head. "That was repayment for Moscow in '98. And even if it hadn't been," he scolded, "do you think I'd have tossed you out on your arses with Mina bleeding to death in David's arms?" He grinned. "Far too fine-looking a woman to lose to some damned empty-headed militant with delusions of grandeur and lucky aim."

Nathan gazed at him for a moment, then raised his glass. "You're a good man, Murray."

Glass clinked. "I try. Tiya's doing, mostly. Speaking of which, GW said something last time he was through about you finally getting your act together with that Scotswoman of yours?"

Nathan smiled. "We got married in May," he said quietly, "and our daughter arrived in August."

"Good God, man, you're a father? The poor child..." But Duncan was grinning, obvious joy in his eyes. "So it was a shotgun wedding, then?"

"Very close to one."

"What have I always said about your sense of timing, Nathan?"

"That it was a dazzling thing?"

---

"The lamb's very good," Samie said thoughtfully, swinging her feet back and forth as she and Angelo ate dinner at the bar and watched Duncan and Nathan, deep in conversation at the original table. "I wonder what they're saying..."

Angelo grinned at her. "Catchin' up, I guess. Looked like it'd been a good few years sine Nathan saw him."

"I've been here once before," Samie volunteered, "although I didn't ever meet him when I was. Last time I went to Ladakh. This is a very popular place, though. I imagine he knows a lot about what goes on around here." She gave Angelo an innocent look. "So when we're done eating do you want to come and see the town with me?"

"Sounds good," he said with a smile. "You can show me the sights."

"Well, there's not much to see," Samie giggled. "Unless you count the scenery, which is plenty, I think? Although there are a couple of places I should go," she said thoughtfully, "if I can use my own money for other things besides the trekking fee. Things I should buy."

"The scenery's really nice," Angelo agreed. "What else do you need to get?"

"Some warmer clothes, some film for my camera," Samie said happily. "I can take more pictures! And take them with me to England... oh, I so wanted to do that but I could only afford a couple of rolls."

"My best friend's from England," he said casually. "When're you thinkin' of goin' there?"

"In January. I'm starting at school in the winter term - something my father set up," Samie said, sounding slightly exasperated. "You'd think we didn't have a perfectly good school system here in India, the way he acts."

Angelo grinned a little. "Well, he's from there. Stands to reason he'd think the best comes from there."

"Silly," Samie said darkly, taking a sip of her drink. There was something of a commotion at the front doors of the bar and she looked up, frowning, as several men, clearly local by their dress, pushed their way in and over to the table where Duncan and Nathan was sitting. One, older than the rest, started to shake his finger at Duncan, growling in Kashmiri. "Oh dear."

Angelo stood up, frowning, but didn't start forward yet. The newcomers didn't look armed, which meant Nathan and Duncan could probably handle it.

Duncan gave an exasperated sigh and got up, responding in the same language and pointing at the door.

"They don't like the fact that he serves alcohol," Samie translated for Angelo. "He's pointing out that he serves it to foreigners, not Kashmiri." The older man continued to shake his finger in Duncan's face, scolding him. "I don't think this gentleman cares for the distinction."

"But... that's stupid," Angelo said with a frown. "He's not makin' anyone buy it, if it's against their religion."

Duncan raised his hands placatingly, palms up. A woman poked her head out of the door leading to the kitchen and paled, her hand going to her mouth.

Nathan had managed to get the gist of what was going on, mostly because Duncan was muttering explanations to him out of the corner of his mouth. Frowning, he rose as well as several of the men accompanying the chief haranguer started to move closer. This didn't look good. "Duncan?"

"It's all right, Nathan," Duncan said, sounding exasperated. "Just the usual shit."

Angelo wanted to go and help. But he knew Nathan could deal with things as they were better than he could. And if it was going to turn nasty... there was Samie to think about.

The older man stepped back, his jaw set in obvious dissatisfaction at Duncan's last response, and snapped something at his younger companions. "Oh, no, you bloody well don't," Duncan growled as the younger men started to move, and Nathan could see their intention in their minds, language barrier or no. Property damage, and the more extensive the better.

Damn it. Nathan sighed to himself and grabbed the arm of the closest member of the morality police. "Excuse me," he said pleasantly, and slammed a fist into the smaller man's jaw.

"...ow," Angelo said with a sympathetic wince. "Now they've got him mad."

Some of the other patrons were finally getting the idea. Clearly, Duncan's bar was fairly well-loved, and the regulars were not at all happy at the idea of it being busted up over something like this. Or possibly they just liked alcohol, Nathan reflected grimly, and sidestepped a clumsy attempt to tackle him as chaos, not unexpectedly, broke out.

Duncan had picked the largest of the interlopers and was introducing his head, quite enthusiastically, to the solid wooden bar. It might have been a number of years since his mercenary days, and longer since his time in the SAS, but Duncan Murray had not appreciably lost his edge.

The interlopers were, quite clearly, going to lose. Nevertheless, Angelo called over casually, "Need any help, Nathan?" At some point, he'd sat back on his stool to watch.

"You stay back there out of the way!" Nathan called in his direction, and then ducked as a chair came flying at his head. Powers use was probably not called for, he decided, dropping one out-of-shape middle-aged man with a solid punch to the midsection.

"Well, this is rather exciting," Samie said, sipping at her drink.

"Welcome to our world," Angelo answered with a wry grin, watching the fight critically. "They really picked the wrong day for this."

---

"This is... dreadful stuff," Nathan said, enunciating his words very clearly. "What, Duncan, do you buy this by the truckload?" He downed the rest of the drink anyway, ignoring the way his eyes were watering.

Duncan laughed madly. He was sporting a black eye, and several of his employees were still cleaning up the mess from the fight, but everyone had more or less settled back down to their meals and drinks. There was a certain post-battle satisfaction to the atmosphere that hadn't been there before. "I could tell you I brew it up in the backyard-"

"-but that would be telling," Nathan said, slurring his words just a little. Samie and Angelo were back at the table with him, and he arched an eyebrow at the two of them. "So. No bruises or anything I should be aware of...?"

"Nah, we did what you said an' stayed out of the way," Angelo said cheerfully. "It was more fun to watch, anyway."

"Maybe they'll leave this place alone this time," Duncan said, refilling Nathan's glass. "Not that I'm holding my breath for that, mind you..." He grinned a little sheepishly. "I may enjoy tweaking their noses, too. Just a little."

"You're a very bad man, Murray," Nathan informed him.

"Me? You were the one who knocked out one of those poor boys with his friend."

"Efficiency. We call that efficiency, thank you very much."

"You were enjoying yourself entirely too much, Dayspring."

"And you weren't?"

Samie was giggling as she sipped at her drink. "They're very cute," she confided in Angelo.

"That's one word for it," he answered, grinning at Nathan and Duncan.

"This is our... fourth such visit this year," Duncan said, mock-gravely. "They get more and more agitated each time."

"You need to be careful," Nathan pointed out, tossing back some of the new drink. His head was spinning. Very enthusiastically spinning. "One of these times they'll come with... torches, or something."

Angelo frowned. "They'd risk burnin' down half the town just to get this place gone?"

"People can be irrational sometimes when it comes to religion," Duncan said, rather more charitably than one might have expected given the evening's events. "And I suppose I don't help matters, not being conciliatory... but damn it, I don't have local clientele, and the trekkers would just go somewhere else for their pint if they didn't get it here."

"It's a pickle," Nathan said helpfully, and Duncan gave him a quick look that turned puzzled.

"Nathan Dayspring, if I didn't know better I'd say you were drunk."

...Uh oh. "...Nathan? How much did you have?" Angelo asked.

"Um." Nathan stared down at the glass, very thoughtfully. "I don't know. Duncan, how many did you pour me?"

"That's your fourth."

Samie glanced back and forth between the two men, looking puzzled. "Is there something wrong?"

Angelo groaned, quietly. "Nathan drinkin' that much is... a bad idea. Be interestin' to see what happens when he stands up..."

Duncan looked absolutely bewildered as he turned his attention to Angelo. "This man has drunk me under the table more times than I can count."

"That was then," Angelo said ruefully. "A lot's happened since you last saw him. Not my story, though."

"I am perfectly FINE, thank you very much," Nathan said with a great deal of wounded dignity. "Look, I can get up just fine..."

Such was not the case, and Nathan found himself blinking up from the floor at the three faces peering down at him. "Whoops."

"Thought so. You okay down there?"

"Fine. Did I drop my drink?"

"Uh-uh," Duncan said severely, removing the drink "If there's something the matter with you that four glasses of my rotgut is putting you on the floor, I'd never hear the end of it from GW if I let you get any drunker."

"Traitor," was the feeble reply.

Samie was still giggling. "Oh dear. And we hadn't even found a place to stay..."

"Nonsense," Duncan said. "Plenty of room here. And I don't charge friends."

Angelo shot him a grateful smile. "Thanks. Right. Guess we should get him up to the rooms, then."

There was a shout from the kitchen, and Duncan swore. "Look, can you give it a try, and if you need help I'll come lend a hand? My wife's yelling about crises, there, and I don't want to be pushing my luck after this evening's entertainment or I'll find myself sleeping on the couch."

Angelo looked dubiously at Nathan, but nodded. "Sure, I can try."

"I can walk," Nathan muttered, and grabbed at the chair. "Just you... watch, and see. Walking is easy." He made it part of the way up and wound up on the floor again. "Okay, the room can stop doing that anytime now..."

Angelo rolled his eyes. "Nathan, you can let me help you, or you can stay right there until you really can walk."

Samie was still giggling helplessly. "I'll help! The two of us, we should be able to manage it!"

"First room on the left at the top of the stairs," Duncan called out over his shoulder as he reached the kitchen door.

"...right then. What's it gonna be, Nathan?"

Nathan glared at him. "Fine," he grumbled. "But if I fall on the pair of you, it's your fault. Not mine."

"Course it is," Angelo said cheerfully. "We snuck you alcohol when you weren't lookin', didn't you guess?"

Samie giggled and reached down for his hand. "You take his other one, Angelo."

Angelo did so, hauling Nathan off the floor with an effort and Samie's help. It would probably have been funny to watch, if anyone had been there to see, as the two of them struggled to walk him towards the stairs.

"You'll notice I didn't do anything strange," Nathan said, still clinging to his dignity. "No flying furniture or anything..."

"An' we're all very grateful for it, believe me."