From Cardassia With Love

Live and Let Die

            Garak exited the stage as La Vipère blew her last kiss to the audience, not looking back. When he rejoined the crowd, the man with the missing teeth was still there.

"Oh good, you've got some brain cells. Now get out of the theatre and wait for the boss-lady outside." Old toothless proceeded to melt back into the shadows. Garak stole a last glance at the stage, but Qadir had vanished as if the little flame had been snuffed out. He was quick to leave the room after that.

Qadir, as it turned out, did not keep him waiting for long. As Garak stood with his back to the wall, still wondering what had happened to Bashir and Komananov, when the agent by day, dancer by night, appeared at the other end of the hallway, accompanied by a security officer. She lit up when she saw him and headed over, strutting and self-assured as if she were meeting a friend of many years. If irony could kill...

"Such a gentleman, thank you for waiting so patiently while I changed." Qadir had exchanged her costume for a simple black knee-length dress. She laced her arm under Garak's and entwined her fingers with his. "Now let's go to my office. It's a little quieter there." Qadir had a bright, toothy smiled enhanced by her hidden ferocity. Despite the familiarity of the circumstances, Garak felt nostalgic for Akkad's restrained yet gentle nature.

"Your wish is my command." Garak rolled his eyes and reluctantly allowed her to lead him away.

Qadir's "office" appeared to be an extension of her own personal accommodations on a separate floor. It was furnished like a parlor, with couches circling a coffee table in the center of the room.

"Now this is one of the best views in all of Paris." Qadir extended an arm toward the wall to wall window overlooking the city. "Abdel, qahwat min fadlik. You know how I like it." She gestured at her guard. Her native tongue was very similar to Akkad's as well. Garak could recall several occasions when the doctor had ordered coffee from the replicator with a likely equivalent phrase.

"Madam, now that I have had a tour of your, I must say, impressive establishment, I should ask what your employer plans to do with Agent Bashir and Colonel Komananov?" Garak watched warily as Qadir sat down on the couch and reclined.

"Ah, ah, ah." Qadir held up her first finger on one hand. "You're under my roof, we play by my rules. Sit." The two stared each other down before Garak made the calculated decision to obey and sat down beside her on the uncomfortably small couch. Qadir's servant returned and placed her coffee on the table in front of her. "Shukraan, that will be all for now." The man bowed and retreated to the far corner of the room. Qadir took a small sip of her beverage and smiled wickedly at Garak again. "So tell me, my good man. What brings you to La Ville Lumière?"

"You don't know?" Garak asked as the metaphorical lightbulb went off. The plan was a bit of a gamble, but he did not have a lot to work with at that particular moment.

"Well if I had to guess, I'd say our friend Agent Bashir had the brilliant idea of looking for leads on his latest assignment right here in the snake den. I do know about his run-in with Monsieur Duchamps. I'm told he tried to pass himself off as a geologist to arrange a meeting with my employer. Not exactly up to standards tonight, I was rather disappointed."

"Then he is being held as we speak?" Garak asked, examining every microscopic change in her expression.

"Yes. We have something special in store for him, so he will be allowed to live a little while longer."

"Excellent, then everything has gone according to plan. If you should decide to put in a good word for me with Dr. Noah, I would be most grateful." Garak patted her on the back of the hand and smiled in relief. Qadir looked at him as if he were insane.