The evening was drawing on fast, leaving the intrepid heroes limited time to finish their tasks.  Gruber was trudging along with Marianne and Brother Clary; he was wearing a rented tux and had his overlong hair slicked back.  The results were amazing; he cleaned up very well.  He'd asked his strange invisible friends to 'help', but what form that might take, if any, was vague.  Agents Peterson and Gattanack were also on site for assistance; Peterson proposed taking a waiter's uniform and going 'undercover'.

Meanwhile, Steve Cable had gone out to get assistance of his own, from Aunt Ayada, who owed him a big favour.

Marianne was suitably pleased with her escort. Upon entering the ballroom, she circulated around the room, trying to spot any known parties, whichever camp they belonged to, and the best location to observe the room.

Hans Gruber was drawing some admiring looks, which he didn't seem to notice.  He squired her around the room with grace and style, and only once steered her away from an empty table in the west corner of the huge room; and guided her towards a table that was partially hidden by two others - not a good location but it had the virtue of some shadows in which to hide.  "Soloman Grey is at that empty table," he said.  "But you can't see him right now, I am thinking, magic is heavy on him.   I don't know if he saw us or not."

Then the band started warming up, and the German perked up considerably. "Foxtrot !"  he said, and looked at Marianne with pleading eyes. "Will you honour me with a dance ?"

Steve entered the ball room and walked around the edge, observing who arrived. The preacher and the red-head were here with Gruber. He exited out the main entrance where he waited til two couples went in together so he followed them close ducking into the left corner to observe.

Marianne grinned. "You may tell me the truth, Mr. Gruber. You don't want Jasmine's aunt to find you. But I would be delighted. Let's make a sweep of the floor, shall we?"

As they danced, Marianne noted Brother Clary and the other two in position. She looked to see if she recognized anyone else she was looking for - the detective and his friends; Jasmine's father, the self-professed king of thieves; the Englishman with the vendetta against Gruber; and the mysterious character known only as the fox. What a cast of characters. And dragons in Chicago? This would be the book that would make her a household name -- if any of them survived the night, that is.

Steve Cable noticed a completely empty table in the far Southeast corner of the room; a prime location offering a good view of the whole room, though the dance floor in the middle of the ballroom would obscure the tables between the stage and the dance floor, once the dancers filled it up.

Hans Gruber expertly escorted Marianne to the dance floor.  "Jasmine is not here," he said, swinging her around the dance floor to the admiration of those watching; he really could dance quite well, so much so that he made anyone with him appear to be expert.  She got a good look around the ballroom as he whirled her in a stately spin; she saw three things of interest.  The Detective had entered the room and was looking for a seat.  Agent Peterson was now attired as a waiter, straightening his vest, and there was a tall blonde man in a tuxedo glaring daggers at Gruber, near the West side of the ballroom.

Steve pulled out Chang's stone for a third and last use, he sweeps the room quickly before it dies.

Steve looks through the rock at the busy room, giving it a thorough sweep.


Ali raised an eyebrow from his station near the door and the potted palm.

Steve rubbed Auntie's ring. Moves next to Ali and whispers.


"Also can you give this good and faithful , unh magic item a proper disposal."
He slips him the dead rock.

The boy nodded, folding his arms, and then the ballroom changed; the faint glowing lines curled up and fizzled like cobwebs in the sun, and suddenly Steve could see Grey at the table; looking furious, standing up and shouting - soundlessly.

"Too bad. We could have used her as the distraction, you know. It worked splendidly on Rashid last time," she replied with a smile. The disaster that was Gruber and Jasmine was oddly riveting.

Dancing with Gruber was a delightful experience. Even knowing what he was, she couldn't quite get over her surprise. "Oh, there's your mysterious Englishman in that corner. Something's got his goat, and I rather think it's you. That detective is here, too. He's going to muck it all up, no doubt, out of sheer contrariness. We've got to get going before any of them do. Swing by Brother Clary. Do you know when and how they plan to exhibit it? Any security precautions you can see?"

"Now that Gray is in the light Ali can I kill or injure him badly enough to be rid of him?"
This message was last edited by the player at 10:12, Fri 15 May 2009.

Hans Gruber ably guided Marianne towards the preacher, who was standing guard near the dance floor.  "It is already up on the stage, I have seen four men up there standing guard, I do not know if more are hidden in the curtains," he said, then did a double take.  "That is not the Gem.  It is a fake !"

Ali nodded at Cable's query. "He is mortal," the genie said softly.

Marianne was gobsmacked. "A fake? It might be a security measure. None of the others would be here if they had it. Although the Fox... You identified that it was a fake. Can you tell where the real one is?"

At Marianne's request, she felt suddenly dizzy as Gruber literally picked her up for a complicated whirl that had watchers clapping at his skill.  He had done it, however, to get a good look around the entire room.  "I don't see it." the German whispered, in a rising panic.

Steve took out the prize he got from Ali yesterday and wiped it clean with a handkerchief, being sure to miss no parts, then dropped it back in his pocket.

He entered the kitchen and found what was needed.

Then hunted down Ali.

"Have someone trusted tell Gray I'm in the mens room and ready to deal for cash."

This was, quite simply, a disaster. "Let's go. If it isn't here, we need to find out where it is," Marianne said, and with a hasty look at Brother Clary and her two accomplices, nudged Gruber out of the room. She hoped they would understand the signal. "Where is Rashid? Any idea where he might have kept it?" she asked once they were outside and free of eavesdroppers.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:56, Thu 28 May 2009.

Stuck in his sphere of silence, the irate Grey was continuing to gesture and speak, eyes glittering with rage.

Ali scurried around to do Cable's bidding, looking tired; he went towards Grey and then there was a sudden soundless explosion that slammed open the men's room door where Cable was waiting.    Ali went tumbling past, vanishing beneath some tumbling tables.  Marianne had hauled Gruber and Clary towards the outside of the ballroom and so they were spared the main effects.

It was as if a 120-per-mile hour wind rushed through the room; people who had been standing were thrown around and even the furniture slid.  There were screams and outcries of surprise and pain as the partygoers were affected by the blast.

Then the glass-paned skylights burst open, raining down shards of razor-sharpness into the crowd; more screams ripped the air, and the chandeliers went out, their crystal drops adding to the glass daggers.  The sky outside was dark, then rapidly full of expanding, roiling clouds stained red, creating a nightmarish landscape that seemed to show nothing but decay and neglect.    Gruber looked around in shock, suddenly appearing as he had when the glamourie he cast over his appearance had faded; all sharp, pointy ears and huge eyes.  "It is not safe for you here !"  he said to Marianne and Clary.  "This place is the shadow world, the mirror of yours.    The Evening Star will have to wait.  I must take you home."

A small cloud of roiling smoke confronted Cable, the eyes shining out of it a dull purple.  "He has pulled the whole city block into the Ever-After !"  it said to the detective.

"I bet that's a bad version of the hereafter. Can I go kill him now?" Pats .45 under jacket. "Or do we need make a quick exit? Or best yet we're stuck here?"

"Why do my plans all go wrong lately Ali?"

Brother Clary had been silently watching the proceedings, waiting for the opportunity to create the diversion.

He wasn't expecting the diversion that came, however.

"And the smoke of their torment ascendeth up forever and ever: and they have no rest day nor night, who worship the beast and his image, and whosoever receiveth the mark of his name. Here is the patience of the saints: here are they that keep the commandments of God, and the faith of Jesus.(Rev 14:11-12)"

He quoted these verses, absent-mindedly, almost as if he were remembering them.

Looking back at Gruber, he had a thought. "What if we were to send the wizard off to meet his Maker?"

"You don't understand. This is a stroke of luck -- the perfect opportunity to nab that gem!" Marianne exclaimed, eyes sparkling. "Rashid will have to give it to us now that he knows the danger, and if not... well, he certainly can't chase us down the block." She made to drag Gruber with her on her hunt for the missing gem.

Ali coiled up tighter.  "There are far more powerful beings than myself in this place, and I am weary after casting much magic.  As for your plans, when you plan against wizards, it is often difficult.  If we leave now, I may be able to get you to safety."  It bent backwards, evidently peering out of the doorway at the ruined room, where tormented and pained sounds were still coming.   "He is coming this way."

Gruber's long ears flattened back like an irate cat's.  "I never kill unless there is no other option, but I cannot impose my morality on you. He's walking that way."  He pointed across the dark, red-hazed ruin of a ballroom, where a shortish, stout man in a tux was picking his way through the rubble towards the east side of the room, then went where Marianne dragged him.   "I last saw Rashid near the stage."

Standing up from the rubble beside the stage, bleeding from a long gash in his face, the blond man who'd been glaring at Gruber levelled a sleek pistol at them.  "Stop right there," he said, in a soft voice that held a ton of menace in the clipped British tones. "You have been causing me trouble for years, Hans Gruber - or whatever you are.  I want the Gem."
"You may steal the Gem," Gruber replied, automatically stepping in front of Marianne to shield her.

"Lets go then, lickity split."

Cable ducked outside, the whirlwind that was Ali spinning along in front of him; it was mayhem in the ruined ballroom, but he could see the old man headed that way - though Grey hadn't spotted them yet.

Steve uses any cover available while following the genie. If Grey is close enough Steve will empty his .45 into him. He draws the pistol releasing the safety.

Noting the danger that Gruber and Marianne were in, Brother Clary let the wizard go - for the time being.

He then leveled his shotgun at the newcomers head.  "Brother," he drawled slowly, "You might want to rethink your intentions a bit.  You know what the Good Book says about thievin', don't ya?"

It was very strange to see Gruber in this form, but Marianne knew it was him because of the way he tried to shield her. A gentleman to the bitter end. She impatiently pushed him, whatever he was, aside. "People are dying here. The gem is right there on stage. The rules are clear. If you can steal it, you deserve to have it. I'm going to look for Rashid. You can blow each other away if you like."

She knew Brother Clary had her covered, and walked off to continue to search for Rashid. It wasn't her fellow countryman, and it wasn't Grey. So, the Fox had the real gem, then, unless Rashid did.

Steve Cable ducked beside an overturned table.  To his surprise, a pair of blue eyes peered at him from under the tablecloth, framed by a much-mussed silver coif and silver silk gown.  A little old lady was under the table, apparently thrown there in the blast.  She seemed dazed, but rallied with elegant manners and perfect diction.  "Young man, have you seen my spectacles ?  I get the feeling that there's something worth watching right now."

This was enough to tip off Grey.  He raised his left hand, the palm glowing red, and snarled some harsh syllables.

-----------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Brother Clary levelled his trusty shotgun at the angry Brit, and fought back a chuckle as Marianne shoved at Gruber, who protested.   Then the reporter stalked off, leaving Gruber standing there stunned.  The Brit didn't waste another moment and quickly dashed to the stage, using all available cover, as if he was accustomed to being shot at.    Marianne headed to where Gruber had told her Rashid was last, looking for a cowering Sultan.   And she found him; collapsed in a heap by the service area curtains, not far from the stage, clutching a bloody handkerchief to his forehead, his legs pinned by a fallen table.

"You don't want to see a thing here lady, trust me on that."

Steve put his new Colt M1911A1 into firing position. He fired first at the glowing hand using the table as a bench rest, re-aims and fires at head, then fires at chest the three deep .45 cracks booming.

She knelt beside Rasheed, and quickly checked him for obvious injuries. "Your Majesty, Marianne Trevors, author and friend. I'll try to make this quick because the pilot is going to be after us in a second. I sent him after the fake gem onstage. But where is the real gem? Is it safe?" As she spoke, she had one eye on Grey, one eye on the man onstage, and was simultaneously trying to get the table off the fallen Sultan. But when she asked about the fake gem, she was carefully watching his reaction.

 Steve Cable fired, the sound of the reports echoing like weird bells in this strange place.   Grey was knocked back, rolling across the floor to fetch up against a toppled buffet table, the tablecloth falling over the man and hiding him from view.

-----------------------------------------------

Up on the stage, the Brit was stealing the fake Gem, while Marianne tried to help the Sultan, and Hans showed up to help.    Someone out of Marianne's line of sight was firing a weapon at Grey, sending him rolling across the floor.   The sounds were unnaturally loud and echoing.
"Aziz," Rashid gasped, blinking at Hans.  "You have come to help me ?"
"Yes, again," Hans replied somewhat irritably, and ably shifted the sandbags off Rashid's legs.  One knee was swelling already, the leg turned slightly to suggest a break or a bad sprain.  "Tell her where is real Gem."
"It is in the keeping of my Aunt, Ayada," Rashid said.  He made an attempt to get up, but turned ashen with pain and stayed down. "I fear I am injured.  Cannot you use your healing magic, Aziz ?"
"I'm not that kind of aziz," Hans Gruber replied, drawing a slim pistol from his coat and pausing to aim at the Brit.
"Take it and go." he advised the Englishman.
"It's never that easy with YOU, Cat," the Englishman replied, forced to juggle his sidearm and the heavy crystal.
"It was never about the stealing, Digby Geste," Hans Gruber replied. "I will not kill you, but I'll make you wish I had.  Go now."
"It WAS never about the stealing, Hans Gruber.  I thought you knew better than that.   Until the next time."  With that, the Englishman ran into the shadows of the backstage area.

Cat? Marianne looked puzzled, because Gruber looked more like a fox to her, but then she suspected that maybe the Englishman was the Fox. It wasn't important at that moment, as long as he cleared out. She left Rashid to the tender mercies of Gruber the Aziz and immediately left in search of Aunt Ayada, clapping her hands over her ears and staying low and out of sight as the bullets the detective was sending Gray's way rang out.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:46, Fri 12 June 2009.

Gruber had watched him go, before putting the firearm back inside his jacket.    With a moue of annoyance, he set to helping the near-delirious Rashid.

Marianne looked around, but Aunt Ayada was NOWHERE to be seen.  She apparently had not attended the Ball, or had left very early.

"In for a penny in for a pound."

Five shots into the tablecloth, just to be sure.

He reloaded and helped the old doll up.

"Let's make hay while the sun shines Ali."  Follows the cloud.

Cable unloaded the firearm into where he thought the old wizard was located, and reloaded before helping the lady to her feet.

The little old lady had found her glasses and readily stood up with a little assistance.  "Thank you, kind sir," she said, with a sparkling smile.  Then she looked around, the sapphire blue eyes taking in the wreckage with surprising aplomb. "My, what a mess."  She adjusted her glasses to view Ali, who was impatiently spinning.   "It seems a splendid evening is ruined, what a pity.  Shall we depart ?"

Ali didn't hesitate but zoomed across the floor, lingered by the front doors to check outside, then backed up in a hurry, his voice squeaking with panic.  "We can't go out that way.  They have SEEN us.  They know we're here !"
"My, what a fuss.  Who are they, dear ?"  the little old lady queried, with charmed amusement at Ali's words.
"The Demons are coming !"

"Ali, its alternatives time. Get on the blower  to Allah if you have to, but time to go."

Marianne looked around frantically for aunt Ayada, but didn't find her anywhere. Had she escaped before bedlam broke out? It was a good thought. She turned back apruptly, heading into the firefight once again. The ruby ring that held Ali belonged to Aunt Ayada. So... find Ali, and find Aunt Ayada? Or if not, find the Sultan and get the truth out of him somehow. Seeing as he was indisposed at the moment, maybe that wouldn't be too hard.

Hans Gruber had, as could be expected, done the right thing by Rashid and now had the injured and semiconscious Sultan draped over his lanky shoulders.  He followed Marianne as she headed for Steve Cable, who also had a hanger-on, a silver-haired old lady in a nice gown, and some kind of dust devil whirling in front of them.   A small fall of glass shards made him jump aside; there was a deep rasping sound from the broken skylights.  Something large and dark was up there, with expansive leathery wings.   As they moved along, a plump cello player disentangled himself from the shards of his broken instrument and trailed after, as did a waiter - who looked familiar.  It was Peterson, the government agent - limping slightly as one leg had a flesh wound.

"Mr. Cable," Hans Gruber said, the German accent harsh as ever, "I still have a contract with you, and an obligation to protect you.  We are in a place that is not your world.  I can follow the ley lines and get you out, but we will have a fight on our hands."
"I am a government agent," Peterson announced, to the amusement of the little old lady.
"I must ask my husband to vote for a raise for you, young man, if you have to take a second job as a waiter," she said, with a cheerful chuckle.
"Your master holds your ring." Hans spoke to Ali,  "He will need the Scintillation of a Thousand Suns when we leave the building.  All mortals, I advise you to shut your eyes as you cross the threshold.  We will have to run, very fast, along a path."
"Running is not a plan, running's what you do when a plan fails," the Cello player said, sourly.

"Lets go and tell us when to open and close our eyes. Aren't Ley lines electromagnetic?"

He glares at the cellist.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:50, Sun 28 June 2009.

"They're electro-kinetic energy that shows up as resonances on photographic plates," Peterson said. "They might show up in a wavelength of light that we can't see - that is to say, humans can't see."   The Cello player glared back at Cable, and found some table knives, which he fanned out in his fist to form a clawlike knife.

Ali looked peeved to be taking orders from another person, but its sense of self-perservation was rather strong.  The small party went towards the door and an instant after Hans warned them to shut their eyes, a flash of white light so powerful it shone through their eyelids burst forth from Ali, and the race was on.

Hampered by Rashid's unconscious weight, Hans was slower, and the party had no problem keeping up with him.  The outside was lit by a sourceless black-red light, and the landscape was burnt rubble - strangely reminiscent of the Chicago street it had been in another place, but the buildings were lumps of rock and debris, a park bench a twisted set of thorn bushes, everything diminished and ruined.   The Cello player and the Little Old Lady had no trouble keeping up.  "Don't look back," Hans advised, after one glance over his shoulder, and put some more speed on.  He was moving along a fairly straight line.  Peterson looked back, drawing his sidearm in one quick movement, and shot at something, the percussion strangely echoing; there was a deep-throated roar in response.

"You'll look funny as a pillar of salt G-Man."

"I think I made it angry !" Peterson replied, hsi voice squeaking a little as he scrambled faster along the path that Gruber was leading.

"Ahead - one hundred meters," Hans was panting heavily, sweat running down his face, as he was carrying the dead weight of Rashid.  "By the red boulder."  There was indeed a red boulder up ahead; it looked like a huge man had curled up in a fetal position, in agony, and died by ossification.  As they slogged closer, it began to rock, then break apart.

Brother Clary followed, levering a round into the chamber of his shotgun, intending to cover their retreat.

"I fear my shoes will never be the same," the little old lady said, with a mild chuckle as she moved along the gritty path with surprising ease.
"There are three large things there," the Cello player reported, hefting his improvised weapons.  "The big one's on its way, but it's keeping back like it's not sure."
"Ah," the little old lady said, turning to look.  "Yes, it is, but then it would be, wouldn't it, with so many religious artefacts present,  I observe.  Your cross is glowing, young man," she said to Brother Clary.   "But they can block our way or harm us without approaching, as the other two have now worked out; they're picking up a large rock."

"Ali, what are they?"

Looking at the rock people.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:27, Tue 07 July 2009.

Marianne was too busy running for her life to comment but she would have laughed at the reference to Brother Clary as a young man if she had had the breath. "Where's Aunt Ayada?" she asked. She assumed that the Sultan's aunt, and more importantly, the person who had the sole remaining star gem had not been left to the mercy of the creatures that were following them, but since Rashid had proved himself singularly incompetent in these matters, she felt it her duty to be sure. "And Mr. Gattanack?" This was asked more soberly. Had the indestructible man succumbed to Grey's sneak attack? She felt responsible for the missing agent. "And Ben White said he would be here as well, though he said he would be outside the ballroom."

"The children of desolation," Ali said, scrunching up tight into a dust devil, his voice quavering.  "We cannot fight them, and they stand in the path !"  The huge boulders continued to break up, resolving into monstrous humanoid forms.

Marianne hurried along, but was answered by Peterson.  "I don't know where Ayada is - she got out early on, I was distracted.  Gat's on his way." the agent replied.  "Mr. White is - harder to find.  I hope he's got the jewel or at least, he's protecting it."   Whatever his other skills, Peterson was a rotten liar.

"Carry Rashid for me," Hans Gruber said to Peterson, pausing.  "You can see the path now; run towards the end of it and you will come through it.  I will stay to fight."    From above, there was a heavy leathern flapping, and Gruber adroitly hopped aside without looking; a jagged boulder impacted into the ground a foot from where he had been standing, making everyone jump and scramble for balance.

From somewhere past the ragged hills of stone and debris, there came a loud echoing boom, and dust and grit flew into the air in a huge plume.  There was a corresponding harsh screech.

"Ain't rocks slow and stiff?"

"They look pretty lively to me," Cello Player said sourly, hefting his improvised weapons.  He looked at the Society Matron. "Ma'am, you better get behind us, we'll try to knock them out of the way."

She laughed, a delighted musical sound, smiling happily.  "Oh, my, such heroes you all are."

With obvious urgency, spurred on by the clouds of dust settling around them, Marianne opened her bag and fished out the vial White had given her. It had worked with such startling effect on Grey, that she had kept it close ever since.

"Alright, all of you heroes, who wants to be the one to get close enough to those things, so we can use this?"

The small vial in Marianne's hand glimmered pure white, sending out soft arcs of light.  But, to her surprise, even Gruber stepped back a pace; so did the little old lady.  "They are dropping rocks on us, they don't have to get close," he said.  "I am probably the only one who can accurately throw it at them, but I cannot touch it."  He offloaded Rashid onto the weedy Peterson, whose knees looked about ready to buckle.

Then a loud sound; an echoing boom, and there was a horrible squawk.  One of the winged gargoyles fell out of the sky like a shot duck, and a shadow resolved itself on a hill in the distance; the massive Federal agent, Gattanack, had at last arrived.

Marianne was relieved to see Mr. Gattanack alive and unharmed enough to jump into the fray. She wasn't surprised by Gruber's reaction, having seen the effect it had on him earlier, but she looked curiously at the old lady. "Don't tell me you're not human either?" she asked in disbelief, doing a double take.

"Well, then, find some other way to do this," she snapped back at Gruber. "You can't singlehandedly take on those things. And you're supposed to take the gems to a safe place. We'll make it if we saved our breath and ran instead of arguing about it." She glared at him for good effect.

Firing his shotgun at anything that got too close, Brother Clary leaned over so that Marianne could hear him, while still keeping his eyes on his targets.

"Ma'am," he began, "What if Gruber could work a sling - you know, like little David agin' Goliath?"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:47, Thu 23 July 2009.

Marianne brightened. "A sling! That might work... Mr. Gruber? We could use some rope and try to construct one."

"Give it to me, I'm a vet of Meuse-Argonne. I've got vials of holy water in my pocket we can use to make grenades of them."

Gruber, never the fastest of thinkers, frowned at Marianne.  But when Cable spoke up, he nodded.  "He is right.  And I am bound to protect him, too.   I will deal with the rock golems."    He frowned again, noting he was wearing a tuxedo, instead of something more useful, and then unclipped his cummerbund, folding it into a slingshot.  "It was a rental," he added mournfully, but handed the fabric to Cable, then turned to look at the large stone creatures blocking their escape path.

Up on the hill, the big Fed began picking his way along towards them, reloading the heavy weapon with what looked like artillery shells, pulled from his torn trenchcoat's pockets.   Something behind him howled, and there were suddenly dark shadows on the hill line, hulking large ones with glowing red eyes.

The little old lady smiled at Marianne, charmingly.  "My dear, you're carrying a...a piece of a person around in a vial.  That gives one pause."   It didn't answer the question, but anyone watching could see how adroitly the silver-haired lady moved, given her apparent age.   Then, as Cable loaded up the slingshot, and Gruber gained the full attention of the rock creatures, she leapt into a run, heading straight for the place Gruber had said was the exit, smacking the Cello Player with her handbag as he got in her way.  No old lady could do a double-flip somersault past the fray and vanish...into the thin air.

"Master of disguise."

Gruber smiled then, glancing back over his shoulder towards where the 'old lady' had disappeared.  "Fare well, Steve Cable.  Mr. Peterson can lead you safely out, so my task of guarding your body has ended."

He looked back at Clary and Marianne then.  "You have captured me fairly and I have been obliged to answer anything asked of me.  I now request that you release me so that I may help you escape."

"Let's end it and get out of here , Auf Wiedersehen Herr Leutnant."

Cable salutes the pilot and follows Petersen.

Peterson, staggering under the Sultan's unconscious weight, manages to get past the stone monsters - which quail at the sight of Brother Clary - and disappears into thin air.  Cable moves to the spot and experiences a flash of cold and vertigo.  When he next opens his eyes, he is standing on the street across from the ballroom, near a couple of benches, and everything seems normal.  Two men in black suits are racing from the ballroom towards Peterson, their appearance practically screaming 'Federal Agent'.   The little old lady is nowhere to be seen....

But at Steve Cable's feet is a silver-haired wig.

The raggle-taggle group emerged into the evening air, the familiar sights of
the World's Fair all round them, everything as it should be.  There was no
sign of the silver-haired lady; just an abandoned wig.  Policemen were
milling around the ballroom, and the dull-looking panel truck was easing
along the kerb next to them.  Peterson looked terribly happy to see this,
though Gattanack had retrieved the unconscious Sultan and slung the poor
man over one massive shoulder.  There was no sign of the strange Hans
Gruber, nor of the missing gemstone either.   But, thanks to Brother Clary's
faith and the Lupino Cross, and Marianne's talisman, nothing followed them
out.

Steve Cable became aware of someone standing beside him, idly taking in
the scene; the old Chinaman, clad in his red robes, surveying the scene with
amusement.  Ben Weintraub had gotten out of the back of the panel truck
and was consulting with his agents; nobody looked happy over there.   Old Chang smiled.  "Ah...Fox chasing Dragon.  Dragons are hard to catch - but there are two, at the airfield, right now, though they will not be there for long.  Gruber does not lie.  He did not see the gem because it had already been stolen."

The old man bowed to Marianne and Brother Clary.  "He is a friend of yours, and friends like him are very useful.   You helped him to regain what was lost.  Your paths may cross again, for adventure comes to those who wish it."

The end.....