Old Man of the Mountain: A Jug Fills Drop By Drop

[x-dominion.livejournal.com]

Farouk is left contemplating the likelihood of a very short continued existance in a Bangkok jail when he receives some help from an unexpected direction.



Farouk stomped down spitefully and swore as the cockroach skillfully evaded his shoe and skittered disdainfully into the food bowl.

"Typical."

He sighed and sat back down on the floor, leaning his head against the wall. You'd think that a bona-fide political prisoner, duly charged by the Indian government with the heinous crimes of espionage, terrorism and really everything up to and including bestiality and child molestation, he would at least rate a bed in his cell. But it looked like Thailand was implementing democracy from the bottom up. All prisoners were apparently equal.

Also the commandant of the jail refused to take checks and Amahl's cash reserves had been somewhat depleted by the valiant officers of Bangkok police force who arrested him.

He scowled absently at the cockroach who was laboriously tugging what looked to be at least 300% of its own body weight in bread toward the far corner of the cell, and scratched himself. Ah, the exciting life on international spy. Lice are optional, fleas come standard.

"God, I hate the Third World."

His demands for access to a lawyer had been all but ignored, and the commandant had been very clear that Farouk's stay would be a short one. The man had displayed an impressive amount of gold teeth as he'd gleefully mentioned that the police had informed the Indian Embassey that the noted spy that India was seeking had been caught in Bangkok, and New Delhi had confirmed it would be sending men to collect and escourt Farouk back to India, along with a substantial 'donation' in thanks for the efforts of Bangkok's dedicated law enforcement officers. In short, Amahl had been bought and sold, and only the laxness of his initial incarceration had allowed him to bribe his way into a final phone call before being hustled down here and into this hole.

So disgusted he was at being caught in Neramani's web so easily, Farouk almost missed the tall monk that appeared at his cell door. The monk wore the robes of a Upasika abbess of the Maha Nikaya Buddhist tradition. However, for a woman, she was abnormally tall, and across one mannish wrist, there was a copper bracelet. Farouk's eyes widened for a moment. The copper bracelet was an old Chinese tradition, that some of the people who catered to the higher levels of society had adopted; it stood to inform the world that despite appearances, the bearer had male genitalia. Transsexual prostitutes to advertise their nature, no matter how feminine they might look, traditionally used them to identify themselves to clients looking for their specific services. However, transgender Thais had adopted it in varying degrees, leaving Amahl to consider the fact that his religious support provided by the prison was a transsexual Buddhist nun.

He was wrong. They had found a way to make it worse.

"I don't need any spiritual guidance." He muttered, and gaped as the figure pulled the robe from her head, revealing the bearded features of Christian Kane.

"Really? You should consider the basic gift of deliverance, my son. Didn't Buddha himself advocate the realization of Anicca; the impermanence of being, and the acceptance that change is? Your state of imprisonment is merely one aspect of your rupa khandhas; the state of your physical self, which the teachings of the Lord Buddha proclaim must and will change as surely as your other khandhas will." The Englishman pulled a small key and unlocked the door to the cell. "Now, if you are interested in learning more about this change, I'd suggest you follow me, Professor."

"Truly the ways of the Eightfold Path are fraught with rewards and well as perils, you ugly, mannerless Anglo son of a diseased whore and a thousand fathers." Farouk grandly yet hurriedly stepped through the door and immediately grabbed the somewhat alarmed Englishman by both ears before giving him a deep, soul-searing kiss. "If you get me out of this shithole before I get fleas; and leave at least 70% of its upper management in severe physical and psychological distress, I will finally make an honest woman out of you, Kane."

Christian gave him a look of abiding distaste. "Respect the man if not the uniform, Professor. Whose wife is going to be key in getting us to safety." Kane motioned for him to follow, as they sped through the corridors of the prison, ignoring the implorations of other prisoners to free them as well. Kane had spread around enough money to buy them an exceedingly short window of ignorance to get clear of the building before Farouk's escape was officially discovered. Fortunately for Farouk, the commandant had failed to assure his guards that they would receive a percentage of the reward, leaving them open to offers from other parties, like Kane.

Christian half-shoved, half-carried Farouk out the window of the second floor guards lounge on to the flat roof, and then up a two-story ladder to the very top of the prison itself. He pulled out a small phone and simply keyed a button, before reaching down to open a bulky bag that was waiting there.

"I hope you don't have heart trouble, Professor."

Amahl blanched as the outline of the proposed escape coalesced before him. "You DO realize that the Sixties are over, I hope? What is it with your generation and the gadgetry fixation? Was there something in the water?"

Kane smiled slightly at Farouk's response as he quickly assembled a framework from the contents of the bag. It was a curious thing, looking like a large coat hanger, with two harnesses dangling from it, and a tall flexible metal pole which was attached to a long nylon line and a black balloon. Christian inserted a disposable helium charge into the balloon, quickly filling it and sending it floating up into the air, trailing the line behind it. He took a moment to quickly harness both of them in, before once again hitting a button on his phone.

"By the way, your friends from India landed about five minutes before I reached your cell. Imperial Guard, they believe. You've made some powerful enemies, Professor." Kane noted.

Amahl's face congealed into a chilly mask. "More than I realized, it seems." There was little to do in the cell but to play out, step by step, the events that landed him there. And the circle of people that could have facilitated his debacle in India has narrowed considerably in his mind. No proof, f course, but then Farouk was not planning to take them to court.

Any further conversation was wiped away as the alarm sounded in the prison, and gunfire began to chip off the edges of the roof. If Christian was concerned, he didn't show it, watching the skies. He suddenly tensed and smiled, tapping Farouk on the arm. "Here comes our ride."

The speck on the horizon quickly grew as a small private jet dipped towards the prison. As it rushed overhead, the fork in the nose of the plane caught the nylon line, directing it back into a locking device. Both men were yanked upwards almost vertically before beginning to trace a curved path into a position somewhat below and to the rear of the plane. There they dangled as the plane climbed for the safety of altitude, being reeled towards the rear like a pair of fish caught on a line.