The Grand Master--a White Owl adventure

I woke up sprawled on a large disk of some sort, with heavy shackles on my legs.  I barely remembered the attack--the beating and gas attack at Shandra Knight's apartment.  Shandra had recently been crowned Miss Queen City--a remarkable young woman with gorgeous brown skin, dark eyes and a warm, winning personality.  I wasn't a big fan of beauty pageants, but I had to admit that she would be an excellent ambassador for the city.

The call had come in while I was patrolling; someone had overpowered the police escort and her chaperone.  When I arrived on the scene, Shandra was being tightly tied by two men, while a third held a gun on her. 

"This is no way to request an audience with the queen, fellas," I said, sashaying in from the balcony.

"White Owl!" shouted one of the men tying Shandra.  "Stop her!"

The gunman whirled and pointed the gun at me.  I jumped at him, flexing for a mighty kick.  My foot connected with his pistol just after he got a shot off.  I felt the slug hit my NuSilk leotard, and smiled, knowing the special fibers could easily stop a .45. But rather than ricochet, the bullet stopped with a dull thud and a thick gas filled the air.  I fell rather ungracefully, to the floor and drifted fitfully to sleep.

Now I was in an abandoned gymnasium--I recognized it from Queen City's failed attempts to join the NBA and NHL.  Murphy Coliseum had seen better days, but was still standing, scheduled for demolition in another year.  I struggled to push up from the floor and found my arms were bound tightly behind me, and  I could feel the harness running up my spine to my neck.  I forced myself into a seated position, then attempted to stand.  I came to my feet, and looked around.  I was standing on a white square and surrounded by life-sized chess pieces. I quickly deduced I was the White Queen, and across from me, was Shandra.  She was unbound, dressed like a 17th century queen in a black satin gown and dark cape.  A blank stare was on her face.

"Shandra?" I asked uneasily.

"Glad you decided to join us," said a sinister voice over the public address system.  "Welcome to the first Queens of the Queen City death match, White Owl."

"Death Match?" I asked uneasily.  I didn't like the sound of that.

"Yes, the queen of justice versus the beauty queen of our fair city.  To the DEATH!"

"What if I don't want to play?" I asked.

"You don't have a choice.  Should you decide NOT to play, Shandra will lose by forfeit."  To illustrate his point a half dozen lasers lit up Shandra's chest and forehead.  Too many to take out before a kill shot could take her down.

"The rules are simple, White Owl.  You play a game of chess--winner goes free."

"And the loser?"

"I didn't call it a death match for no reason."

"What have you done to Shandra?'

"She's in my control.  You'll be playing me, with her life in the balance.  Oh and yours of course."

"And if I resign before we even start?"

"Then the press and the police will have a bizarre double homicide to investigate.  I've stacked all the cards in my favor I'm afraid.  Shall we play?"

"It seems I don't have a choice, do I?"

"No not really.  But I have given you one advantage.  You start."

"Very well.  King's Pawn to King 4."

"Oh a standard opening.  Very well, Queen's Knight to Queens Bishop 3"  The pieces moved as we played, I'm not entirely certain how.  The game wove back and forth, and since only Shandra and I were human, I was as aggressive as I could be.  My uncle, the great Fortescue, taught me to play and his hours of training were coming to the fore now. 

"Remember Athena," he had said.  "This is a game of war, yes, but also a game of strategy.  And like a good magic trick, so much of it is based on misdirection." 

I had been  a decent player in my youth, but as an adult, my skills had atrophied as my life as White Owl had become more important.  So while I could play, I didn't realize that my game would be scrutinized.  Piece after piece fell on both sides, leaving me with a knight, a king, two pawns and myself.  Shandra's side consisted of a pawn, a rook, a bishop, the king and Shandra.  "I see you're using the Danzig Blitz from 1730, White Owl," my hidden captor said. "A noble attempt, but it was countered in Reykjavik in 1804.  Like this...Queen to Queen three..."

Shandra moved silently into place and drew an evil looking sword from beneath her cloak.  I was surrounded by the rook and the bishop as well.  My knight stood to one side, unable to support me.

"Looks like you'll be losing your head White Owl," said the mocking voice.

"What about Shandra?" I asked, as the sweat rolled down my cheek.

"I am a man of my word.  She'll go free.  Your move."

I knelt, in preparation for the final shot.  "King's rook's pawn to King's Rook 8.  Checkmate!"

"WHAT?!" shouted my hidden opponent.  How...Where...?"

"Remember, the game is to capture the King, not the Queen, genius," I mocked back.

At that moment, I snapped the leather bindings (I could have done that at any time but I needed to get close to Shandra--and more misdirection is always good) and dove onto the armed beauty queen.  I flew out of the chessboard just as several shots hit where she had been standing.  I flew at top speed to Metro General, and left Shandra with a trauma nurse, calling the police in at that point.

"Murphy was empty by the time we got there, White Owl," said Captain Winslow.  "Whoever it was cleared out fast."

I bowed my head.  "I should have captured him," I said, sheepishly.

"No!  You did exactly the right thing," said Captain Winslow.  "You saved Shandra.  If you'd gone looking for him, the assassins might have gotten her.  You saved another life, White Owl.  And he didn't get away stock free...we found this."  He held out an evidence bag.  Inside was a white chess queen and a note.  "Next time, the stakes will be higher.  The Grandmaster.