Tales of the Gold Wookie, Part 6

Leia looked out the window of the penthouse suite she and Harry were sharing in Ville Du Nuage as the sun went down over the glittering Mediterranean. Laurence's hotel was one of the biggest in Bespin, endless acres of rooms in up-to-date splendor. Laurence claimed to have won it from its previous owner in a card game and had updated it with all the modern amenities. Their hotel room was like something out of a Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movie, all rounded curves, shiny chrome, and rattan. Ceiling fans turned lazily around, barely producing enough wind to dispel the lingering heat. Colorful porcelain tiles in the living room created a mural of local history, from fishing villages to glamorous promenades.

Papa Bail's notebooks were scattered across the the curvy wooden desk. She'd been trying to make sense of his writing for over a week now. She and Harry spent the week talking to Laurence about the Sword of Wisdom. He'd given her a few leads on gangsters and shady black marketeers he was familiar with, but he was evasive on exactly whom they might be. He kept telling her he needed to get in touch with this person and that contact.

To be fair, he'd been a wonderful host. They'd done their work at the beach, leaning over a small table between two blankets. He'd paid for clothes for her, Harry, and Charel, swimsuits and evening clothes and lightweight trousers and shirts for daytime. She and Harry had walked the boardwalk together, had made love under shady palm trees by a quiet private bay. They'd strolled through the town, through museums, though the casino.

She'd had fun, but it wasn't why they were here. Not only was Laurence stalling on getting a hold of his contacts, but Clarence was missing. He claimed he'd called the local police to find him, but they'd turned up no clues.

“Hey, Princess.” Leia was still amazed Laurence had somehow talked Harry into wearing a real tux. The white suit with the black satin vest and scarlet-red carnation in the lapel made him look impossibly dashing. He'd even managed to slick back his mop of hair. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” Leia let him kiss her on the forehead, but she didn't respond. His fingers ran down her diaphanous red silk gown with the ruffled net sleeves and rubbed around her bare back. “Something's wrong here. I appreciate all the help Laurence has given us, but I think he's stalling. No one or seen or knows anything about Clarence. He's been gone for a week! That's too long to have gotten lost. He doesn't know the area...”

“Relax, sweetheart.” He settled down on the creamy white cotton couch that almost matched his tux. “Laurence said his men turned up a few good leads. They'll find him.”

Leia settled down next to him. “I don't trust Laurence.”

“I don't trust him, either.” Harry gave her that little smirk. “But he's still my friend. As soon as the Falcon's finished, we'll be gone, and you'll be back in LA.”

She leaned back against the couch, pouring a glass of red wine for both of them. “Then you're as good as gone, aren't you?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Harry stood abruptly, going to his dresser in the bedroom. “I have a little gift for you. Something I picked up when we were in town and you were looking at the books on ancient history at the book seller's.” He came out with a pink velvet box, his grin more pleased than smarmy for once. “Open it!”

“Oh Harry!” A golden filigree heart with a red crystal center was nestled snugly amid velvet and silk inside. She wrapped her fingers around the links of the delicate chain. “It's beautiful! It must have cost you a fortune.”

“About half the money Kenobi gave me for this trip, but it was worth it.” His fingers fumbled to open the catch. “Turn around. I want to see how it looks on you.”

It took a few minutes, but crystal was finally dangling down her neck, resting perfectly over the top of her dress. “It's perfect.” She leaned over him to give him another kiss. “Maybe you're not such an idiot after all...”

Something kicked at the door just as their lips met. “Damn.” Harry made a face. “Always when I'm busy!” He went to open the door and somehow wasn't surprised to see Charel there. “Look buddy, I'm a little busy here. Could you come back...” His eyes widened at the remains of the man in his arms. “Holy shit. What's that?'

Charel let out a growl and dropped the lean, battered figure onto the couch. Leia's mouth dropped open. “Clarence! At least, I think it's him.” His face was a bloody mess, and the rest of him was worse. Half of his glasses hung off his long nose. “Where did you find him?”

Harry raised an eyebrow at his co-pilot's stream of deep Russian. “Found him in a junk yard? You had to fight three garbage men for him?” He chuckled. “It's not nice to call the residents of this country pigs, even if those guys did look like them.”

“What a mess.” Leia went to the kitchen and came back with a wet towel and a bag of ice. She pressed the bag against his purple eye and used the towel to wipe the blood off his face and chest. “Char, do you think you could keep an eye on him tonight?”

Harry shrugged. “Larry probably knows where to find a nurse for him.”

Leia made a face at the name. “No thank you.” Laurence walked in just as the words left her mouth. “Speak of the devil,” she muttered to Harry.

“Sorry, am I interrupting anything?” Laurence looked every inch the casino-owning dandy in his blue tux with the gold trim and flamboyant blue and gold cape. He even wore spats and carried a gold-topped cane. Shiny black curls had been tucked under a top hat worthy of Fred Astaire.

Leia tugged her white lace wrap around her bare arms. “Not really.” Something about the way his eyes roved over her gave her the heebie-jeebies. Then again, she could see Harry making a face behind her. It was almost kind of fun to make him jealous.

“You are so beautiful.” Laurence took her arm. “You truly belong with us here, among the clouds and azure waters.” His grin was a lot slicker than Harry's. “You're all invited to be my exclusive guests at the Paradise Club downstairs.” His slick grin fell at the sight of what remained of poor Clarence. “Is he all right? Do you need someone to take him to a hospital?”

Charel growled, putting an arm around Clarence. “No,” Harry echoed too quickly. “He's fine. Had a run-in with locals who didn't like his face. He'll sleep it off.” He quickly took Leia's other arm. “Let's go get something to eat. I'm starved.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a magical night. Leia would never forget it as long as she lived. The stars seemed a little brighter over the fringe of high cliffs and resorts and villas along the Mediterranean. The water that lapped outside the Paradise Club was impossibly turquoise, like it should have been worn in an Aztec warrior's armor. The colorful tiles around the smoky room depicted fishermen, artists, and barefoot beauties dancing in scanty dresses under waving palm trees.

She'd spent nearly an hour talking to Laurence about his contacts. “I think I got a line on Yasmin Hutt, or at least some of her people.” He sipped a rich amber cognac. “An old friend of mine mentioned that she purchased several Alderaanian artifacts from an illegal Imperial source, including a sword.” He handed her a photo. “Is this what you're looking for?”

The young woman nodded, trying not to be too enthusiastic. “Yes! At least, it looks like the real sword.” She pulled a photo out of her purse. “This is the real Sword of Wisdom the last time it was seen in a private collection in Mexico City in 1931. That man went broke in the Depression and had to sell off most of his assets, including the Sword. It was supposed to have gone to a Mexican museum, but it never made it there, and it hasn't been seen since.”

Laurence studied the white crystal-studded silver hilt and flat obsidian blade with the razor-sharp edges. “It does match their description. I know Yasmin. I doubt she cares about Alderaan or the Force. She just likes expensive things.”

Leia leaned back in her chair. “That may not be the only reason. I've heard of Yasmin Hutt. She was a showgirl, but she turned out to have more of a head for business than people suspected and easily expanded her husband Jack Hutt's criminal empire after he died. The Sword of Wisdom is said to give people powers over the mind, let you read them and control them. If the powers are real, and they fell into the hands of a ruthless bitch like her...”

Laurence raised an eyebrow. “I always figured Yasmin was just very good at judging character. She's made a lot of big deals lately. She practically owns most of the black market shipping lanes in North America and Asia. Her hubby started smuggling after bootlegging petered out, and I guess she figured, why mess with a good thing? Forced out her husband's partner and uncle Ziro around a decade ago.”

“I would have laughed at the idea myself, until the last few weeks.” Leia tucked the photo back in next to her wallet. “Let's just say I've seen a lot of strange things that's made me wonder how real the legends of the Jedi are.”

“Hey, is this a private pow-wow, or can anyone join in?” Harry took a chair and pulled in as close to Leia as he could. “So, have you figured out where the Sword is yet?”

“We believe it's owned by a Yasmin Hutt, a gangster and businesswoman.” Leia tapped her purse. “I'm going to have to set up a little chat with her.”

“You'll have to do that without me. I, er, owe her some money.” Harry actually turned a little red. “Among other things?”

Laurence smirked. “Are you two still knocking around together?”

Harry made a face as Leia glared at him. “No. I ended that a while ago. She's about as close to crazy as you can get without actually ending up in the nut house.”

“I would have thought she was your type.” Leia smirked. “After all, she was a showgirl. I heard she's quite a looker.”

“Uh, yeah.” Harry grabbed her hand as the orchestra launched into a slow, sultry tune. “Hey sweetheart, wanna dance?”

“Why not? I can't remember the last time I went out dancing.” Leia let him lead her out onto the black and white parquet dance floor. “I haven't had the time. I've been so busy with my work...”

“Yeah, so have I.” Harry chuckled as Leia raised an eyebrow. “What, you think I spend all my time having fun with dames like Yasmin? I'll let you know that I haven't been out dancing since 1927, the last time...” His face fell for a minute, but he shook it off. “Well, the last time I was together with my girl Clara. She's long gone. Ended up with some mob boss with a lot more green than I had.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.” Leia didn't know what else to say. She didn't really want to talk anymore, anyway. It was a beautiful night. Moonlight sparkled on the azure Mediterranean waters just outside the doors. It lent a soft glow to the throngs of people moving in time to the dreamy music. A female singer performed a French chanson that she didn't recognize, low and throaty and full of forbidden love.

“Harry?” Leia whispered, her voice throaty. “If I...if I got UCLA to pay you more, would you stay? I mean, I want you to stay. You've been a huge help to us, and so has Charel. I want you both to stay, and I think the others do, too. I could hire you on as bodyguards, or you could work the dig. It wouldn't pay much, but you'd get something, and you could learn more about the Force...”

“I'd love to, honey. I really would.” Harry sighed. “But...” He had just kissed the top of her head and had looked up when he noticed a familiar figure in a loose green and red suit and wide-brimmed fedora. Long fingers cradled what definitely looked like a small-caliber Baretta pistol, the type that could fit easily into a pocket, yet still leave a smoking hole in a man's head in an instant. The man sat at the bar, nursing a drink and talking to the portly bartender. The fellow handed him a whiskey and soda and pointed in their direction.

“Shit.” Harry grabbed her hand. “You know, it's way too crowded in here. Hot as hell, too. Those ceiling fans up there aren't really doing much more than moving air around.” He leaned over her and murmured in her ear...but not the sweet nothings she'd hoped to hear. “We're being followed, sweetheart. Fettara is here. Now. At the bar. We'll tell Larry we're taking our leave and see if we can shake him.”

Leia made a face. “If Larry isn't the one who called him in the first place. There's still something off with him.”

“Come on.” He pushed through the crowd as the song ended, making his way towards the palm-green front door with the portholes. “We'll have to shake this guy somehow.” They stopped just long enough to get Leia's purse and wrap from the hat check girl and hurry into the main hotel.

“There he is!” Leia pointed at him just as Fettara followed them out the door, gun in hand. “Wait a minute. I know how to handle this.” She tucked her white silk clutch purse under her arm and went directly to the man at the front desk. “Sir,” she said brusquely, “that man,” pointed at Fettara, who was trying not to be noticed in the shadow of a potted plant, “has been following my friend and me all night. He has a gun. I saw it.”

“Yeah!” Harry nodded and waved his hand at the bounty hunter, who was trying harder to blend into the shadows. “He's got a gun on him, too! I'll bet he plans on killing all of us in his sleep.”

“May I help you?” Laurence materialized as if out of nowhere at the desk. “I saw you leave and thought something was going on.”

“Yeah, you might say that.” Harry pointed a finger at where Fettara had been. He was now trying to discreetly make his way to the exit. “We're being followed.”

“Well, hello there.” A arm in a blue suit with a gold lined cape blocked Fettara's exit just before he made it to the revolving doors. “And what brings you to this place that's much too pleasant for you?” Laurence's blinding smile had turned a bit nasty as he took Fettara's elbow, ignoring his squawks. “I can handle him from here, folks. You can go back to the club now.”

“You know what? I think we've had enough excitement for one night.” Harry yawned big and stretched his arms out. Leia didn't even mind too much when one landed over her shoulder. “Why don't we go back to our hotel room and hit the hay, so to speak?”

“Sounds good to me.” Leia effected her own yawn. “It's been a long night, and we need to talk to Charel.”

Laurence nodded. “So you'll be in your room. Good. I'll know where to look for you when we have to talk, er, business tomorrow morning. Maybe even earlier. You have a good night.”

“See you then!” Harry waved as they made for the elevators. “Yeah, I think we're going to have to leave tomorrow, no matter what kind of shape the Falcon's in. It's not that I don't trust Laurence, although I don't. I just don't like having Fettara around, even if they do toss him in the local jail for a day or two.”

“I wish they'd leave him there for good, but I don't think we're that lucky.” Leia tucked her cotton gloves in her purse as she followed him. “We'll pack when we get in and leave for the Falcon as soon as we eat and talk to Laurence one more time.”

“Right now,” Harry grinned, “let's go have some fun.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Fun” ended up being champagne from a bucket left in their living room “with compliments of the house” on the balcony and noisier enjoyment in the bedroom afterwards. Leia was no virgin, but it had been a while since she'd had the time for a romantic relationship, let alone sex. Maybe it was the champagne, or the gorgeous star-strewn night, but she felt a little giddy. Her fingers were already getting off Harry's bow tie and vest, even before he fumbled with her zipper.

Harry was tender when he made love. His callused fingers ran over her lacy bra and slip, making her shiver. She kissed him, pulling him close, rubbing her fingers under his black black trousers. He explored every inch of her body, moaning softly as he nibbled around her chest.

“You're...not bad...at this.” Leia bit gently on his ear.

“Did this for the first time...when I was thirteen.” His fingers tugged at her bra hooks. “I'm a lot better at it now.”

She had begun to unbutton his trousers when they heard the banging noise in the hall outside their suite. “Aw, damn it.” Harry didn't even look away from her as he worked at the straps. “Stupid drunks. One of them must'a forgot their keys or somethin'.”

“I don't know.” Leia looked over her shoulder nervously, even as Harry kissed around her breast. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“It'll be ok, hon.” Harry gave that lazy grin again. “Trust me.”

That grin should have given her the hint that things were seriously wrong...but she opted to go in for another kiss. They'd no sooner reached each other than the door to their bedroom was flung open. “Well,” sneered a too-familiar voice, “look what we have here! A free show!”

They broke apart quick after that. Leia leaped off the bed, glad Harry hadn't gotten her bra off. She covered herself with her arms as Roberto Fettara whistled. He might have been admiring her. It was too hard to tell with the dark glasses he wore even indoors and at night. “Hey doll, don't spoil the view!”

“You bastard!” Harry scrambled off the bed after her. “Don't even think what you're thinkin' of. This lady has more brains and class in her little finger than you have in your entire body!”

Fettara smirked and looked Leia up and down, even as she tried to hide her lacy bra and slip. “You're too cute for this asshole, doll. I could show you a really good time.”

“No thank you. I'd rather do...” Leia got close enough to him to knee him in the groin. “This!”

She grabbed his pistol and her dress the moment he doubled over. “Nice work,” Harry's grin was more genuine this time, “Leia.” He gave Fettara a solid punch that knocked him over a chair.

Leia put her pistol aside long enough to slip her dress over her head and grab her purse with the notebooks in them. The moment Fettara started moaning, she held the pistol to his head. “Freeze, you piece of shit. You so much as look at me the wrong way, and I'll blow your brains half-way back to Sicily.”

Harry's jaw dropped. “Leia, how many gangster shows have you been listening to lately?”

The look of fury in her eyes as she tossed him his shirt made him step back a pace or two. “Get dressed. We need to tie up this jerk, find Charel and Clarence, and get out of here.”

The sound of angry ranting in Russian ended any of those plans. Charel was shoved into the bedroom. He was disheveled and red-faced, but at least he seemed to be all right. Which was more than could be said of Clarence. The slender secretary had hitched a ride on Charel's back and was whining to whomever would listen about his sore ribs and how he told everyone this would happen.

Leia wasn't terribly surprised when Vader, impeccable in his gray suit and fedora, strode in, followed by five of his goons. Laurence brought up the rear. “We would be honored,” Vader hissed, “if you would join us for breakfast.”

“I had no choice.” The hotel owner's honey voice was stiff with anger and sadness. “They arrived right before you did. I'm sorry.”

One of the white-clad goons pried the pistol from Leia's hands while two more removed Harry's gun from his holster hanging on the bedside table. Another helped Fettara to his feet and returned his gun to him. The bounty hunter shoved his gun at the pilot's back, but Harry's eyes were on his former friend. “I'm sorry, too.” He took Leia's arm. She accepted it gratefully, glaring at Vader and Lance as they were escorted out of the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Dr. Mothma?” Luke held the phone in the booth to his ear while trying to juggle his notebook and pen. His satchel sat beside him. “Hi. It's Luke Skylark. I'm in San Francisco, visiting a friend of Ben's. Have you heard from Leia recently?”

“Not in the last few days.” Dr. Mothma's throaty voice held a note of worry. “The last time I talked to her, she'd just arrived at the Hotel Ville du Nuage in Bespin, run by a Laurence Carlyle.” Her voice turned frosty. “I talked to some friends in the FBI. He was wanted for fraud, theft, smuggling, and illegal gambling. Evidently, they never found any hard evidence and let him go. No wonder Leia thought he could tell her something about the antiquities black market. Sounds like it's right up his alley.”

Luke gulped. “Did he have any involvement with gangsters or the Empire?”

“Not the Empire, not that I know of. If anything, it sounds like he was smuggling artifacts under their nose.” There was the sound of shuffling papers under the phone receiver. “I've been trying to get a hold of her, but the concierge says she's no longer staying at the hotel. I don't know where they are now. Vader was reported having been seen in the Bespin area. Him and his enforcers.”

“Damn it!” Luke groaned. “I knew it. She is in trouble! Dr. Mothma, I booked the next available flight to France. I'll be at Bespin with Dr. Yoda Chiang and Arthur Deton probably in the next few days. I already called Miss Tano and told her where I'm going. If you don't hear from Leia, Dr. Chiang, or me by the end of the week, call the government. This could be big!”

He slid in another quarter. “Oh, and we have the...” his voice dropped a little. “Sword of Light. It's at Dr. Chiang's house for safekeeping for now, in his collection. He has the only key.”

“I don't like any of this. I wish you'd take a little more help with you and would send the Sword to somewhere safer.” Dr. Mothma sighed. “Please be careful, Luke. Leia may already be in danger.”

“Don't worry, Doc. I'm prepared for anything. I know what I'm doing.” He hung up the phone and retrieved the quarter, muttering under his breath. “I hope I know what I'm doing.”

“You ready, kid?” Artie knocked on the door of the phone booth, his suitcase under one arm. “Yoda's already with your buddy Wedge. He's trying to give him advice on fixing the engine. Let's get back there, before Wedge tosses him in the bay.”

“Yeah, I'm ready.” Luke stepped out of the pagoda-shaped phone booth. “I just need to tell Wedge where we're going.”

“Hey kid,” Artie asked with a grin, “where are we going?”

Luke returned his big smile. “Artie, have you ever wanted a vacation on the glamorous French Riviera?”