The Final Storm

08. The Harsh Duties of a Soldier

Captain James Carter leaned back in his wicker chair, took a long sip of his fruity drink and let his eyes sweep over the beautiful scenery in front of him. This was the life! Truly, going on this mission to India was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. Now, if only a certain lady would be here, life would be perfect.

Just as he thought that, soft footsteps approached from behind. Abruptly, Captain Carter felt a faint hope rise in his heart. Could it be that, after his latest letter, she decided to—

"Ehem," a distinctly male cough sounded from behind him.

The captain's shoulders slumped, and he returned his attention to the beautiful scenery, taking another sip from his glass.

"Ehem, ehem!"

Another long, luxurious sip.

"Ehem, ehem, ehem!"

Full of concern, Captain Carter glanced over his shoulder at the liveried figure behind him. "Do you need some cough drops?"

The man's expression said very clearly that, no, he did not need cough drops. Judging by his sour face, however, Captain Carter surmised he could do with some other sweets.

"I thought," the man spoke with so much disapproval any lesser man might have choked on it, "you were told to abstain from this kind of behaviour, Sir. Don't you think this is unbecoming of a military man?"

Deciding his peaceful life was probably over for today, Captain Carter fully turned towards the other party. "Sitting by the riverside sipping fruit juice, you mean?"

"Exactly."

"Then I am innocent." Raising the glass, Captain Carter gave the other man a big, friendly smile. "This isn't fruit juice. It's whiskey."

For some reason, this did not seem to improve the liveried man's mood.

"The Resident Minister is waiting for you in the Red Fort, Sir!"

"Is he, now?" Captain Carter decided this was the best time to take another sip from his drink.

"He wishes to speak with you. Now."

"Oh, very well."

Reluctantly, the captain cast a last glance at the beautiful city, not-so-reluctantly emptied the rest of his whiskey glass and rose to his feet. Without any further delay (except maybe chatting with interesting people he passed on the way, buying something to eat from a street vendor and several other things that were absolutely necessary when heading towards a pompous and impatient superior) Captain Carter made his way through the bright, exuberant streets of Delhi until he stepped into a massive shadow. Looking up, he saw the towering silhouette of the Red Fort rising into the sky above him, its crimson walls shining beautifully in the sunlight. Although...for a moment, it almost looked as if they were painted in blood?

Ha!

Shaking off the strange impression, the captain continued forward. Maybe he had drunk a bit too much whiskey after all.

Nodding to the sepoys on guard at the gate in greeting, he entered the Fort. Though he never let on about it, during the last month's stay in India, he had made sure to memorise every important route in this place. As such, it did not take him particularly long to reach his goal, even at the leisurely pace at which he moved.

Reaching up, he knocked at the large mahogany double-door that practically screamed, I am important! Bow before me!

Something that the occupant of the office would most likely agree with.

"Enter!"

The ancient door creaked as Captain Carter pushed it open and stepped into the room. Inside, a small man behind a large desk was rifling through various documents and muttering angrily. Carter wasn't in any particular hurry, so he plopped the last bit of his street food into his mouth and chewed on the divine deliciousness until the other man eventually looked up and deigned to notice him.