Post by conansf on Mar 9, 2013 4:30:21 GMT -8
Partners, who’d have ‘em? If you’re not with them every second…….
Artemus Gordon crept down the dark corridor of the hospital. His back and legs ached from riding twenty miles and the hot wax of the candle-stub ran over his fingers but he made no sound. As he entered the double room a figure stirred by the one of the beds and Artie heard the cold click of a gun hammer being cocked.
“Peace, friend!”
A woman’s sigh startled him “You must be Artemus Gordon. West is by the window.” As Artie moved closer with the candle its light revealed the striking features of a petite, dark brunette, bundled in a blanket, next to a bed where a young man was lying swathed in bandages.
Once he got a good look at her, he placed the face “Special Agent Emma Bartion.”
She nodded wearily and waved a hand towards the bed. “My partner, Jack Ross.”
Artemus checked on James. His breathing was easy, if shallow and he didn’t stir as his partner gently checked his pulse. Only then did Artie sit back and allow the hours of riding and worry to show.
“When did you know?” Emma asked
“Today. The service wired me that Jim had been admitted. I’m still unclear what happened. He was supposed to be overseeing a routine security planning meeting for Grant’s junket. I should have been at that meeting!”
“Stop it, you couldn’t have known. Jack was alone as well. I was at fight training. He said it wouldn’t need both of us…” Emma’s voice caught.
“Jim said the same. I was sourcing some of our more unusual supplies…” Artie let his voice trail off and sighed. “Why do we let them out of our sight?”
“If your partner is anything like mine he hates being mother-henned.”
Artie chucked despite his worry, “Yes but you can hardly avoid it.” He realised that he had said something wrong immediately. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. He met Emma Bartion’s cold blue stare.
“I have been in the service as long as you have. I was widowed in the service. Do you imagine I merely cook and clean for my partner and wait around for him to complete the missions alone? I am a trained locksmith and regularly spar with our unarmed combat trainers. Or do you subscribe to that endless “scurrilous gossip” that surrounds any close partnership?”
“I don’t mean … I meant that… Look, I understand how to be a partner. Yes, it’s more than just friendship, there’s a point when you know without a single doubt that,” Artie stopped, collected himself and started again. “Jim knows that I will be here, just as I know, well, let’s just say, you better believe our positions have been reversed! And before you ask, I am well aware that the same “scurrilous gossip” surrounds Jim and me! It is easy to ignore because it has never been an issue.” Artemus’ smile quirked the side of his mouth, “You can’t go through a war, undercover training and missions and hover over a fallen man you consider closer than any brother, without knowing yourself and him, damn well. Jim and I work hard and play hard but we have never been inclined to share each other’s bed!” Artie hadn’t realised he was getting louder until both patients stirred restlessly.
“Damn.” Artie cursed and instantly took Jim’s hand “Easy buddy, rest, shhh, sleep now” He could hear Emma murmuring similar words to Jack. They both sat back down and contemplated each other.
“I’m sorry…” they both started
“You first.“ offered Artie.
Emma took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t be so touchy but President Grant made it quite clear that we would be separated if our partnership became… more. He wants to prove that two dedicated agents can work together professionally. No matter the gender. He has those in cabinet who opposed that stance.”
Artemus placed a hand over hers, where it lay on the coverlet, “They may be more reckless and we may be the ones who think before we act and have to make sure they remember to eat but never see that as a secondary role. It is what makes a partnership; you have to complement the other.“ He squeezed her hand “You are just as much an agent as I am, as our partners are. I’m sorry if I implied anything else.”
Emma nodded, biting her lip.
Artie could tell the hours of waiting and worry were taking their toll. “Do you know what happened?”
Emma shrugged, “They were checking out the venue. For some reason, no one seems to know, they both were up on the minstrels’ gallery. No one saw what happened except suddenly they were falling.” Artemus winced; Emma did not need to paint a picture of what had happened next.
“We have to get back in there. Jim is too surefooted to fall.”
“So is Jack.” She gestured with her pistol which she still cradled in her lap.” That’s why I was taking no chances. I just have a bad feeling about this.
“Woman’s intuition?” Artie teased
Emma’s eyes flashed in response “Don’t discount it, Mr. Sceptic.”
Artie sobered “You’re right. I think something is …hinky”
“Hinky?”
“Sceptic’s term for intuition.”
They sorted out who would cover the watches for the rest of the night and Artemus even managed to get some sleep on the hard wood floor. But both agents looked haggard and had dark circles, as the doctors rounds started.
The doctors were cautiously optimistic, both Jack and Jim had been extraordinarily lucky. They both had broken ribs and Jack undoubtedly had a broken collar bone but other than a nasty head wound apiece, that was as far as the doctors could say. Now it was up to both young men to wake up and start the road to recovery.
******************
Artie looked around the cupola trying to get a feel for the place. Something was not right and Jim and Jack Ross had almost paid for it with their lives. There was a faint waft of something in the air that made his nose itch. He started by examining the broken railing which had been heaped to one side It didn’t take him long to discover fresh cuts on the wood.
“Soldier,” he called to one of the men guarding the scene of the accident “Can anyone tell me if this wood has been cut, to tidy it away?”
He was presented with a fair haired youngster who didn’t look more than 15.
“Private Siccket. Sir! I was on duty when the cleaner was here.”
“Ah and did the cleaner cut up the wooden railing?”
Siccket looked puzzled “No, Sir. I mean the cleaner who was here before the accident. There has not been anyone since, except us. The Captain told us to clear a path. So we moved it but we didn’t cut it.”
“At ease son. Please describe this cleaner to me, as well as you can.”
Artie listened carefully, nodding, making rough sketches in his note pad. Siccket’s description was quite detailed. He finally showed the Private his drawing. “Is that the man?’
“Yeah! I mean, yes Sir! That surely is a good likeness. Sir! “
Artemus smiled “You have been a great help, soldier.”
“Sir, can I be of any other service?”
“You can help me check the minstrel’s gallery.”
“Yes, Sir! Um, what for?”
“We’ll know it, when we see it.”
They climbed the stairs and Artie could not repress a shudder as he looked down at the ground floor, unprotected by the railing.
“Sir! I found something!” Private Siccket had been looking behind a velvet curtain.
Artemus peered over the young recruit’s shoulder. “Back away, soldier.”
“Why, sir?”
“That’s a bomb.”
“Sir!”
“Just go find your Captain, son.”
Artemus knelt to study the fine powder trail leading to one keg, propped with what looked like other empty brandy kegs, behind the curtain. There was an odd acidic smell and he realised this was what probably had brought the two young agents up here searching. Delicately he touched the one of the kegs with one finger, noting it and the rest, had been doused in something sticky and no doubt flammable, to provide the maximum of mayhem. He gave the residue a cautious sniff but forebore to taste it. Working quickly, he unshipped a small glass phial from his pocket and scraped the residue from his finger in to it. He had the Captain detail off a guard to take it to the scientists at the Bureau. Giving orders for a clean up crew, he went back to the Wanderer for a change of clothes before his shift at the hospital. On the way back he felt dizzy. So dizzy that he barely made it to a bar, before sitting heavily down in a chair. His finger was tingling. The serving girl hurried over.
“You OK, Mister?”
“Can you get me some rubbing alcohol, please?”
“Mister, our stuff is good, we don’t serve that! You don’t look like the kinda guy who needs it but if you do, you’ve come to the wrong place!”
Artemus snorted “Any whiskey, then.”
The serving girl hustled to get his drink and slapped it down in front of him. Artemus was past caring what she thought. He dipped his handkerchief in the whiskey and vigorously rubbed his finger. The tingling sub-sided and after a moment the dizziness wore off.
*****************
When Emma entered the patients’ room, Artie was busy sketching. He had asked for a table to be brought in to accommodate their rapidly growing paper work. He smiled as he glanced up at her and she felt a momentary flutter. Stop it you’re on the clock but oh my, that’s an attractive smile. Wonder how he’d react if I asked what his views were on dalliance with a young widow?
Artemus rose from his chair and handed her his sketch-pad “This is from the description I was given by the guard. Ugly character, ain’t he?”
“Indeed. I read your report over supper. Did the guard describe those clothes or did you just doodle?”
Artemus gazed again at the sketch “No, that’s how he described them, why?”
“Hmmm, I seem to remember a badge like that, on the sleeve of someone we arrested on another case. Give me a moment. Yes! The Company.”
“Who or what, are The Company?”
“It’s a quasi-regimental club that is made up of some pretty strange and deluded types. Most never even served. Too idle to work, poor as church mice and they blame the government for their lack of prosperity. All talk about change but with no real power or inclination. Until now.”
They started talking together, words tumbling over each other….
“If they cut the railing…”
“Grab bits when they set off the bomb.”
“In the confusion they’d use the wood as weapons!”
“No need to smuggle anything past security!”
“But bits of wood?”
“Bits of wood can be deadly in the right, or wrong, hands.”
“It just seems so …simple”
“And would have been, if our partners hadn’t been poking around up there. I found some residue on the bomb, it must have been an extra bit of insurance for the plotters. One touch, on my finger, made me dizzy. If James or Jack got it all over their hands… then if one, or both, leant on the rail.”
“When it gave way Jim or Jack would have instinctively tried to pull the other to safety.”
“But being dizzy, they both ended up going over.”
“We are so lucky they weren’t killed.”
“Luck’s about to run out!”
Artemus and Emma turned to the door. Six men were advancing into the room. The speaker had a gun. Artie glanced at his piece where it was lying on his recently vacated chair; he wouldn’t be able to grab it before he would be shot.
“You! Raise your hands, get up against the window.”
Artie complied; he noticed that only the leader seemed to have a gun. The Company were obviously poorly provisioned.
Emma had shrunk back with wide, frightened eyes “Oh, please, don’t kill me.” she whimpered
Artie fought a grin. Don’t ham it up too much; he tried to warn her with a glance.
She shuffled to the side, trying to widen the gap between them so the gunman couldn’t cover them both but she was grabbed by another henchman and pulled against the table. All of the men’s attention seemed to be on Artemus, which was how he wanted it, if it could give Emma a chance to do something but what? Get away? Get help? Artie glanced over at Emma, she didn’t look his way but shifted slightly against the table. Jim sets his shoulders like that, just before he goes into action. Oh, dear lord! I better be ready.
Suddenly Emma pushed off the table and slammed into the gunman, knocking both of them to the floor; the gun skittered out of his hands and out into the corridor. Artie dived for his gun but the speaker and two more goons piled on top of him. Emma ducked the bat swung at her by another man, scrambled past him, turned and yanked his leg back, he crashed to the ground and she put a knee in his throat and wrestled the bat out of his suddenly clawing hands. In a second she had knocked him out and sprang to her feet, one of the men was bent over the bed where Jack lay, smothering him with a pillow.
“Get away from my partner, you ass!” she yelled, laying into the man and literally beating him back to his knees.
As he keeled over, strong arms gripped her from behind and she yelped, as her feet left the ground and she was thrown across the room, impacting and collapsing the washstand. Pushing herself up she dived back to get her bat. Her attacker reared up in front of her and attempted to a backhand a blow which could have knocked her out. Instead she raised her hands in a boxers’ defence, danced around his grabbing hands and slammed a doubled fist into his nose. He staggered in shock, blood gushing, then went to envelop her in a crushing bear hug. Ducking under his arms, she wound her hands in his shirtfront, then flipped backward, thrusting her feet up into his solar plexus; he flew over her head and crashed into the wall.
As she climbed to feet a body was thrown past her and struck the same wall. Artemus was wrestling his gun from the last goon; he finally felled him with a powerful right cross. Hauling the man off the bed he dropped him unceremoniously on the floor and bent over James. He looked across to where Emma was doing the same.
“Jack OK?”
“Yes. Jim?”
“Yes. Dinner?”
“Pardon”? Emma straightened and winced “Ow!”
Artemus restrained himself with an effort. Every civilised instinct told him to go and comfort the woman but all he said was “You’re going to have a lovely collection of bruises.”
Emma shot him a grateful look and a smile, which he registered with delight. Oh, James, my boy, you would be entranced with this one Too bad for you I saw her first! She can’t fraternise with her partner but I’m not her partner. Wonder how she’d react if I made it clear there were no strings attached?
Emma moved her jaw carefully, “Sorry Artemus, I don’t think I will be presentable for our date.”
“Women, always concerned about their appearance” he teased
Emma giggled and winced again. “Stop it! It hurts to laugh.”
“Artie?”
“Em?”
Both bent over their partners.
“Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?”
“Jack, hold still, you’re in hospital.”
“Why do you have plaster dust in your hair?”
“Is that a bruise on your face?”
Artie and Em’s eyes met across the beds.
“It’s OK, we just saved the President, again.”
“Go back to sleep.”
**************
“Artemus!” Emma smiled in greeting, as Artie stepped into her room. She put aside the paper she had been reading as he bent and kissed her hand. “I didn’t except you tonight.”
“We had a date.”
“Yes, but...”
“And I never let down a lady.” he gestured and to Emma’s delight a waiter rolled in a covered tea trolley.
“Thank you, Collins. We can serve ourselves.” Artie pressed money into the waiter’s hand and he disappeared.
A little later Artemus finished his port and leant back, resting his arm on the back of the couch close to Emma. Leaning his chin on his fist, he studied her profile.
After a moment she smiled wickedly “Why, Mr Gordon, are you planning to draw me a picture of my face?”
“I could never do it justice.”
She laughed, turned to him and got the full effect of his sparking brown eyes smiling warmly into hers. Her breath caught and he pulled her close for a slow, deep kiss.
“Hmmm. Remind me to contribute to some scurrilous gossip myself.”
“And that would be?”
“A question of who has the best technique, shall we say?”
She felt him smile against her lips “Oh, my dear, I can show you the fact of the matter. Allow me to demonstrate.”
***********************
Artemus Gordon shrugged into a new jacket and paused to admire the fit. Whistling to himself he grabbed his hat and was just opening the door when James walked in.
“James! Are you supposed to be out of bed?”
West smiled “I figured I rest better in my own. Date tonight?”
Artemus was smug “Yes and for once I have the field to myself!” Just then the telegraph started chattering “Oh no, oh no no no” Artie deflated
“What’s up?”
“Seems I did have a rival in the field tonight. My date, has a date arranged for her by Uncle Sam.”
“At least she was kind enough to let you know right away. How is Emma, by the way?”
Artie sighed and accepted a sherry Jim had poured “Lovely, valiant and remarkably busy. Lord knows if our schedules will allow us to meet up again.” The telegraph restarted “What, again?”
Jim scribbled rapidly on the note pad. “Well, looks like the lovely Emma would have had to wait in any case. Our mutual favourite uncle has a case for us!”
“Mutual maybe. Favourite? NO!”
Artemus Gordon crept down the dark corridor of the hospital. His back and legs ached from riding twenty miles and the hot wax of the candle-stub ran over his fingers but he made no sound. As he entered the double room a figure stirred by the one of the beds and Artie heard the cold click of a gun hammer being cocked.
“Peace, friend!”
A woman’s sigh startled him “You must be Artemus Gordon. West is by the window.” As Artie moved closer with the candle its light revealed the striking features of a petite, dark brunette, bundled in a blanket, next to a bed where a young man was lying swathed in bandages.
Once he got a good look at her, he placed the face “Special Agent Emma Bartion.”
She nodded wearily and waved a hand towards the bed. “My partner, Jack Ross.”
Artemus checked on James. His breathing was easy, if shallow and he didn’t stir as his partner gently checked his pulse. Only then did Artie sit back and allow the hours of riding and worry to show.
“When did you know?” Emma asked
“Today. The service wired me that Jim had been admitted. I’m still unclear what happened. He was supposed to be overseeing a routine security planning meeting for Grant’s junket. I should have been at that meeting!”
“Stop it, you couldn’t have known. Jack was alone as well. I was at fight training. He said it wouldn’t need both of us…” Emma’s voice caught.
“Jim said the same. I was sourcing some of our more unusual supplies…” Artie let his voice trail off and sighed. “Why do we let them out of our sight?”
“If your partner is anything like mine he hates being mother-henned.”
Artie chucked despite his worry, “Yes but you can hardly avoid it.” He realised that he had said something wrong immediately. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. He met Emma Bartion’s cold blue stare.
“I have been in the service as long as you have. I was widowed in the service. Do you imagine I merely cook and clean for my partner and wait around for him to complete the missions alone? I am a trained locksmith and regularly spar with our unarmed combat trainers. Or do you subscribe to that endless “scurrilous gossip” that surrounds any close partnership?”
“I don’t mean … I meant that… Look, I understand how to be a partner. Yes, it’s more than just friendship, there’s a point when you know without a single doubt that,” Artie stopped, collected himself and started again. “Jim knows that I will be here, just as I know, well, let’s just say, you better believe our positions have been reversed! And before you ask, I am well aware that the same “scurrilous gossip” surrounds Jim and me! It is easy to ignore because it has never been an issue.” Artemus’ smile quirked the side of his mouth, “You can’t go through a war, undercover training and missions and hover over a fallen man you consider closer than any brother, without knowing yourself and him, damn well. Jim and I work hard and play hard but we have never been inclined to share each other’s bed!” Artie hadn’t realised he was getting louder until both patients stirred restlessly.
“Damn.” Artie cursed and instantly took Jim’s hand “Easy buddy, rest, shhh, sleep now” He could hear Emma murmuring similar words to Jack. They both sat back down and contemplated each other.
“I’m sorry…” they both started
“You first.“ offered Artie.
Emma took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t be so touchy but President Grant made it quite clear that we would be separated if our partnership became… more. He wants to prove that two dedicated agents can work together professionally. No matter the gender. He has those in cabinet who opposed that stance.”
Artemus placed a hand over hers, where it lay on the coverlet, “They may be more reckless and we may be the ones who think before we act and have to make sure they remember to eat but never see that as a secondary role. It is what makes a partnership; you have to complement the other.“ He squeezed her hand “You are just as much an agent as I am, as our partners are. I’m sorry if I implied anything else.”
Emma nodded, biting her lip.
Artie could tell the hours of waiting and worry were taking their toll. “Do you know what happened?”
Emma shrugged, “They were checking out the venue. For some reason, no one seems to know, they both were up on the minstrels’ gallery. No one saw what happened except suddenly they were falling.” Artemus winced; Emma did not need to paint a picture of what had happened next.
“We have to get back in there. Jim is too surefooted to fall.”
“So is Jack.” She gestured with her pistol which she still cradled in her lap.” That’s why I was taking no chances. I just have a bad feeling about this.
“Woman’s intuition?” Artie teased
Emma’s eyes flashed in response “Don’t discount it, Mr. Sceptic.”
Artie sobered “You’re right. I think something is …hinky”
“Hinky?”
“Sceptic’s term for intuition.”
They sorted out who would cover the watches for the rest of the night and Artemus even managed to get some sleep on the hard wood floor. But both agents looked haggard and had dark circles, as the doctors rounds started.
The doctors were cautiously optimistic, both Jack and Jim had been extraordinarily lucky. They both had broken ribs and Jack undoubtedly had a broken collar bone but other than a nasty head wound apiece, that was as far as the doctors could say. Now it was up to both young men to wake up and start the road to recovery.
******************
Artie looked around the cupola trying to get a feel for the place. Something was not right and Jim and Jack Ross had almost paid for it with their lives. There was a faint waft of something in the air that made his nose itch. He started by examining the broken railing which had been heaped to one side It didn’t take him long to discover fresh cuts on the wood.
“Soldier,” he called to one of the men guarding the scene of the accident “Can anyone tell me if this wood has been cut, to tidy it away?”
He was presented with a fair haired youngster who didn’t look more than 15.
“Private Siccket. Sir! I was on duty when the cleaner was here.”
“Ah and did the cleaner cut up the wooden railing?”
Siccket looked puzzled “No, Sir. I mean the cleaner who was here before the accident. There has not been anyone since, except us. The Captain told us to clear a path. So we moved it but we didn’t cut it.”
“At ease son. Please describe this cleaner to me, as well as you can.”
Artie listened carefully, nodding, making rough sketches in his note pad. Siccket’s description was quite detailed. He finally showed the Private his drawing. “Is that the man?’
“Yeah! I mean, yes Sir! That surely is a good likeness. Sir! “
Artemus smiled “You have been a great help, soldier.”
“Sir, can I be of any other service?”
“You can help me check the minstrel’s gallery.”
“Yes, Sir! Um, what for?”
“We’ll know it, when we see it.”
They climbed the stairs and Artie could not repress a shudder as he looked down at the ground floor, unprotected by the railing.
“Sir! I found something!” Private Siccket had been looking behind a velvet curtain.
Artemus peered over the young recruit’s shoulder. “Back away, soldier.”
“Why, sir?”
“That’s a bomb.”
“Sir!”
“Just go find your Captain, son.”
Artemus knelt to study the fine powder trail leading to one keg, propped with what looked like other empty brandy kegs, behind the curtain. There was an odd acidic smell and he realised this was what probably had brought the two young agents up here searching. Delicately he touched the one of the kegs with one finger, noting it and the rest, had been doused in something sticky and no doubt flammable, to provide the maximum of mayhem. He gave the residue a cautious sniff but forebore to taste it. Working quickly, he unshipped a small glass phial from his pocket and scraped the residue from his finger in to it. He had the Captain detail off a guard to take it to the scientists at the Bureau. Giving orders for a clean up crew, he went back to the Wanderer for a change of clothes before his shift at the hospital. On the way back he felt dizzy. So dizzy that he barely made it to a bar, before sitting heavily down in a chair. His finger was tingling. The serving girl hurried over.
“You OK, Mister?”
“Can you get me some rubbing alcohol, please?”
“Mister, our stuff is good, we don’t serve that! You don’t look like the kinda guy who needs it but if you do, you’ve come to the wrong place!”
Artemus snorted “Any whiskey, then.”
The serving girl hustled to get his drink and slapped it down in front of him. Artemus was past caring what she thought. He dipped his handkerchief in the whiskey and vigorously rubbed his finger. The tingling sub-sided and after a moment the dizziness wore off.
*****************
When Emma entered the patients’ room, Artie was busy sketching. He had asked for a table to be brought in to accommodate their rapidly growing paper work. He smiled as he glanced up at her and she felt a momentary flutter. Stop it you’re on the clock but oh my, that’s an attractive smile. Wonder how he’d react if I asked what his views were on dalliance with a young widow?
Artemus rose from his chair and handed her his sketch-pad “This is from the description I was given by the guard. Ugly character, ain’t he?”
“Indeed. I read your report over supper. Did the guard describe those clothes or did you just doodle?”
Artemus gazed again at the sketch “No, that’s how he described them, why?”
“Hmmm, I seem to remember a badge like that, on the sleeve of someone we arrested on another case. Give me a moment. Yes! The Company.”
“Who or what, are The Company?”
“It’s a quasi-regimental club that is made up of some pretty strange and deluded types. Most never even served. Too idle to work, poor as church mice and they blame the government for their lack of prosperity. All talk about change but with no real power or inclination. Until now.”
They started talking together, words tumbling over each other….
“If they cut the railing…”
“Grab bits when they set off the bomb.”
“In the confusion they’d use the wood as weapons!”
“No need to smuggle anything past security!”
“But bits of wood?”
“Bits of wood can be deadly in the right, or wrong, hands.”
“It just seems so …simple”
“And would have been, if our partners hadn’t been poking around up there. I found some residue on the bomb, it must have been an extra bit of insurance for the plotters. One touch, on my finger, made me dizzy. If James or Jack got it all over their hands… then if one, or both, leant on the rail.”
“When it gave way Jim or Jack would have instinctively tried to pull the other to safety.”
“But being dizzy, they both ended up going over.”
“We are so lucky they weren’t killed.”
“Luck’s about to run out!”
Artemus and Emma turned to the door. Six men were advancing into the room. The speaker had a gun. Artie glanced at his piece where it was lying on his recently vacated chair; he wouldn’t be able to grab it before he would be shot.
“You! Raise your hands, get up against the window.”
Artie complied; he noticed that only the leader seemed to have a gun. The Company were obviously poorly provisioned.
Emma had shrunk back with wide, frightened eyes “Oh, please, don’t kill me.” she whimpered
Artie fought a grin. Don’t ham it up too much; he tried to warn her with a glance.
She shuffled to the side, trying to widen the gap between them so the gunman couldn’t cover them both but she was grabbed by another henchman and pulled against the table. All of the men’s attention seemed to be on Artemus, which was how he wanted it, if it could give Emma a chance to do something but what? Get away? Get help? Artie glanced over at Emma, she didn’t look his way but shifted slightly against the table. Jim sets his shoulders like that, just before he goes into action. Oh, dear lord! I better be ready.
Suddenly Emma pushed off the table and slammed into the gunman, knocking both of them to the floor; the gun skittered out of his hands and out into the corridor. Artie dived for his gun but the speaker and two more goons piled on top of him. Emma ducked the bat swung at her by another man, scrambled past him, turned and yanked his leg back, he crashed to the ground and she put a knee in his throat and wrestled the bat out of his suddenly clawing hands. In a second she had knocked him out and sprang to her feet, one of the men was bent over the bed where Jack lay, smothering him with a pillow.
“Get away from my partner, you ass!” she yelled, laying into the man and literally beating him back to his knees.
As he keeled over, strong arms gripped her from behind and she yelped, as her feet left the ground and she was thrown across the room, impacting and collapsing the washstand. Pushing herself up she dived back to get her bat. Her attacker reared up in front of her and attempted to a backhand a blow which could have knocked her out. Instead she raised her hands in a boxers’ defence, danced around his grabbing hands and slammed a doubled fist into his nose. He staggered in shock, blood gushing, then went to envelop her in a crushing bear hug. Ducking under his arms, she wound her hands in his shirtfront, then flipped backward, thrusting her feet up into his solar plexus; he flew over her head and crashed into the wall.
As she climbed to feet a body was thrown past her and struck the same wall. Artemus was wrestling his gun from the last goon; he finally felled him with a powerful right cross. Hauling the man off the bed he dropped him unceremoniously on the floor and bent over James. He looked across to where Emma was doing the same.
“Jack OK?”
“Yes. Jim?”
“Yes. Dinner?”
“Pardon”? Emma straightened and winced “Ow!”
Artemus restrained himself with an effort. Every civilised instinct told him to go and comfort the woman but all he said was “You’re going to have a lovely collection of bruises.”
Emma shot him a grateful look and a smile, which he registered with delight. Oh, James, my boy, you would be entranced with this one Too bad for you I saw her first! She can’t fraternise with her partner but I’m not her partner. Wonder how she’d react if I made it clear there were no strings attached?
Emma moved her jaw carefully, “Sorry Artemus, I don’t think I will be presentable for our date.”
“Women, always concerned about their appearance” he teased
Emma giggled and winced again. “Stop it! It hurts to laugh.”
“Artie?”
“Em?”
Both bent over their partners.
“Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?”
“Jack, hold still, you’re in hospital.”
“Why do you have plaster dust in your hair?”
“Is that a bruise on your face?”
Artie and Em’s eyes met across the beds.
“It’s OK, we just saved the President, again.”
“Go back to sleep.”
**************
“Artemus!” Emma smiled in greeting, as Artie stepped into her room. She put aside the paper she had been reading as he bent and kissed her hand. “I didn’t except you tonight.”
“We had a date.”
“Yes, but...”
“And I never let down a lady.” he gestured and to Emma’s delight a waiter rolled in a covered tea trolley.
“Thank you, Collins. We can serve ourselves.” Artie pressed money into the waiter’s hand and he disappeared.
A little later Artemus finished his port and leant back, resting his arm on the back of the couch close to Emma. Leaning his chin on his fist, he studied her profile.
After a moment she smiled wickedly “Why, Mr Gordon, are you planning to draw me a picture of my face?”
“I could never do it justice.”
She laughed, turned to him and got the full effect of his sparking brown eyes smiling warmly into hers. Her breath caught and he pulled her close for a slow, deep kiss.
“Hmmm. Remind me to contribute to some scurrilous gossip myself.”
“And that would be?”
“A question of who has the best technique, shall we say?”
She felt him smile against her lips “Oh, my dear, I can show you the fact of the matter. Allow me to demonstrate.”
***********************
Artemus Gordon shrugged into a new jacket and paused to admire the fit. Whistling to himself he grabbed his hat and was just opening the door when James walked in.
“James! Are you supposed to be out of bed?”
West smiled “I figured I rest better in my own. Date tonight?”
Artemus was smug “Yes and for once I have the field to myself!” Just then the telegraph started chattering “Oh no, oh no no no” Artie deflated
“What’s up?”
“Seems I did have a rival in the field tonight. My date, has a date arranged for her by Uncle Sam.”
“At least she was kind enough to let you know right away. How is Emma, by the way?”
Artie sighed and accepted a sherry Jim had poured “Lovely, valiant and remarkably busy. Lord knows if our schedules will allow us to meet up again.” The telegraph restarted “What, again?”
Jim scribbled rapidly on the note pad. “Well, looks like the lovely Emma would have had to wait in any case. Our mutual favourite uncle has a case for us!”
“Mutual maybe. Favourite? NO!”