The Beast Inside

by Monique Singleton

  ‘Needless to say, Bharata, born Niraj, had a pampered and luxurious childhood. He went to the Kolkata University and obtained a Master degree in Political Science. From there he entered Oxford and later Harvard. Not so much due to his intellectual skills, more the generous donations that his family bestowed upon the universities. Niraj was the third child and first son of the family. Later as more sisters followed, he remained the only male offspring. As such, he was cherished beyond compare by his parents. They instilled the pride and arrogance that portrays the man now. His mother made sure that he was infused with the rich pre-colonial history of both India and the surrounding countries. I expect that is where he gets his inspiration from.’

  The information was very detailed but I decided to let him continue, observing the way he spoke as much as the content. I detected some admiration. He was in awe of the target.

  ‘Anyway’ he seemed to have noticed and hurried on. ‘He inherited his father’s imperium and extended it exponentially, resulting in his far-reach and notoriety in the region. About fourteen years ago he started his expansion into politics and three years later he became the President of India. Re-elected five years after that, he slowly but surely increased the power of the presidency in India. Initially it was more of ceremonial office, but he passed sufficient changes to the constitution to give him extensive influence on the military, social and political powers in the country. Three years ago, he was so strong that he actually manipulated the voters to cancel the presidency as well as the parliament and democracy, basically instating himself as supreme ruler. The Raj of old. He was quick to expand the country’s borders by attacking Bangladesh and Nepal. It turned out that he had been secretly amassing a large army and they made small measure of the military in the neighbouring countries.’

  He stopped to take a breath and open the folder. Extracting a number of photos, he continued.

  ‘These are photos of the other way he’s waging war.’ He held the photos up so that I could see them. They portrayed massacres. It was unnerving, even for me, and I’ve seen a lot. Caused my share too.

  ‘This is what Shiva does’ he explained, holding up more gory pictures. The violence portrayed was excessive. Blood and body parts everywhere. ‘Shiva causes the user to go maniacal, homicidal.’ Even he was silent for a moment while he reviewed the photos himself. ‘This was a family. Mother, father and two sons, after their daughter slaughtered them, high on Shiva.’ He added: ‘it was her first time. She had never used it before.’

  I was familiar with the effects of Shiva. Had seen them in Easy. Had actually used them against the Maniacs there.

  ‘Bharata uses the drug that he produces in Nepal to undermine any country that he wants to annex. It’s the front line. After that he invades them. In that manner, he has already managed to occupy five countries so far, including the southern part of China. No one dares to counter him, many of his military are subjected to Shiva before they go to battle. They are initially exposed to a heavily diluted version of the drug for a period of time and are somewhat manageable. Once they get the real stuff and are pointed in the direction of the enemy, there’s no stopping them. They don’t feel pain and the adrenaline keeps them going long after they have been fatally shot or stabbed.’

  Taking more photos from the folder, now portraying Bharata, he moved the meeting to the current time.

  ‘He has now targeted the west. Great Britain in particular, because of the colonial past and the atrocities that were committed in the previous centuries. He has a point there. We were not good rulers. But the payback is out of any proportion. He has openly vowed to conquer Great Britain and any other country that gets in the way. His minions have flooded countries like France, Britain, Russia and the Americas with Shiva and it wreaks havoc there. He continues his physical expansion as we speak. He is now preparing to invade Myanmar. The western countries are hesitant to intervene, because he has nuclear weapons and we expect him to use them if he is cornered. This is where you come in.’

  ‘Why me?’ I asked

  ‘Because any previous attempts to kill him have ended in the demise of the agents. Many have tried, but the maniacal bodyguards have proven to be too much.’

  I waited.

  ‘You are immortal, as far as we know. That makes you the natural choice.’

  ‘Because it’s a suicide mission, right?’

  ‘Frankly yes.’ Well, at least he was honest about it.

  ‘Your powers should help you.’

  ‘That’s all the help I have, I suppose?’

  ‘Yes.’ He added, ‘if you’re caught we will deny any connection to you.’

  Fair enough, that was to be expected.

  ‘We will get you there, make contact with our man on the inside but after that—you’re on your own.’ The classical famous last words.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Barkley had been seriously rattled by the demonstration with the Lexan. It was obviously not impenetrable as he had been led to believe. Bordering on panic, he had called on every reserve he had left not to race out of the room.

  Then she had done a one-eighty and sat down, perfectly happy to continue the meeting. That was even stranger, and even more unsettling.

  Continuing with the narrative he explained about the contact on the inside at the Bharat administration. He didn’t know exactly who the man was, or what position he held, but he was trustworthy and had proven that in the past. The guy would help her get close to Bharata, the rest was up to her. Strictly speaking, he didn’t know if she was in fact immortal. As long as she managed to terminate the tyrant, then the rest wasn’t really important. She didn’t necessarily have to survive. Though he did resolve to keep up his side of the bargain and help Jack. Just in case.

  The trip to India turned out to be an issue. Initially he had wanted to ship her there in a submarine, out of sight of any possible recognisance once they entered the Indian waters. However, once she pointed out that this would probably be detrimental to the health of the crew, especially as they had nowhere to run to if she happened to lose it under water in the confined space, they determined it would be better to find an alternative.

  He would get on to that as soon as he left here.

  They discussed how the preparations would be handled. She would learn Hindi, as it was the main language in the country, get acquainted with the lay of the land and the aspects of the political and social structures that could be beneficial to her. For that she would be transported to another secure facility.

  Standing up after they had discussed all the details, he turned to the door.

  ‘One more thing Barkley’

  He turned to face her again.

  ‘If you want me to work anywhere near people, I need to relieve the pressure.’ Barkley’s face showed his confusion. ‘I need to kill,’ That shocked him.

  ‘To kill?’

  ‘A human.’ She added just in case he had misunderstood her.

  The guards looked at each other, not comprehending what she was saying.

  ‘A human?’ Barkley finally asked.

  ‘Yes’ She answered flatly. ‘Get one or more of your worst prisoners, people that you really want to get rid of, let me loose with them, and I’ll solve that problem for you too.’ He was flabbergasted.

  ‘I’ll see what I can do’ he stammered.

  ‘Don’t “see”, just “do”. The alternative is that at least one of your people will die. The tension will come out one way or the other.’

  He didn’t know what to say, so he stayed silent, opened the door and left, wondering how he would be able to get that organised, what strings he would have to pull.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Two days later he had “organised” what she had requested.

  Two of the worst criminals on the whole continent of Australia were brought to a fenced off compound that spanned fifty acres of forest and woodlands. They were set free within the borders and told to run for their lives. These were serial killers of th
e worst kind, one with a preference for children no older than ten, and the other—a self professed cannibal with a literal “taste” for teenage girls. Both had been through the legal process and were sentenced to life in an isolation cell without any privileges. Neither had family that wanted anything to do with them. They were frankly dead to the world, just without the dying part. She would take care of that.

  She enjoyed the chase. The terror in the eyes of the scum before she killed them was magnified by the dossiers that she had read about her prey. She was the judge, jury and especially the executioner, and made sure that they died filled with the same terror and pain that they had inflicted on their own countless victims.

  That showed in the state of the bodies. The remains were hideously mangled, proof of how much pressure had built up inside her. Even the seasoned agents found it unsettling to mop up after her. The bodies were disposed of, and nobody missed them.

  But it served a purpose. The tension diminished and she was stable again.

  The transportation was solved as well. She would board an Australian military ship that would rendezvous with a friendly fishing boat somewhere off the coast of Andaman Islands in the Bay of Bengal. She would travel with the fishermen to the mouth of the Ganges in the Sundarbans and make her way through the jungle to the meeting point where someone would take her to Agra.

  She spent the following three weeks learning Hindi. As a quick learner, she managed to get the fundamentals in and progressed speedily. The background information about the country Bharat was absorbed just as quickly.

  It was clear to her that it was a complex social environment. The Emperor was bringing back the cultures and traditions of the pre-colonial times. These were very detrimental to the position of women in India, but that was of no concern to the old-fashioned tyrant. He embraced the hierarchies and traditions of the time of the Raj and forced them on his completely subservient people.

  Once again Barkley was summoned to organise a new “hunt”.

  The trip would take at least two weeks, so she needed to relieve any potential tension before she could board the ship. Not doing so would endanger the lives of all the people accompanying her on the trip.

  After that, she boarded the frigate “New Adelaide” and they set off for the northern tip of Sumatra to wait for the fishing vessel.

  CHAPTER TEN

  So here I am, back on a boat again.

  Headed for Bharat and another contract.

  Another war, not mine by choice, but once again I’m caught up in it.

  Only this time there is another reason. Another goal—a personal one.

  Perhaps I will find more about the legends in Bharat. Maybe they have reached that far.

  I can only hope.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  This time it was a military vessel—the New Adelaide, an Australian frigate.

  Surrounded by an apprehensive and suspicious crew, there was little peace or space for me. Privacy was at a premium on this reasonably small one-hundred eighteen metre ship with its one-hundred and sixty odd crew members.

  I don’t know what their brief had been about me, but they obviously knew that I could be dangerous and that the longer I stuck around, the more critical the situation would become. So it was full steam ahead and we made good time arriving in Sumatra three days ahead of the designated meeting.

  Not that it helped much. We dropped anchor in the military harbour that had been established there as soon as Bharat was internationally recognised as a serious threat. The captain wouldn’t let me off the ship in case anyone linked me to them after the deed had been done. That meant we were stuck with each other after all.

  After four days in the harbour, we heard from the fisherman contact and made our way towards the rendezvous point under cover of the night. In the early hours of the next morning the relieved military finally got rid of me, and the fisherman gained an extra deckhand.

  I helped with the fishing and any other jobs that cropped up. The crew of three quickly warmed to me once they saw that I pulled more than my weight and did all of the tasks required. We made reasonable time and didn’t encounter any Bharatan vessels during the trip to the mouth of the Ganges.

  Under cover of darkness I took my leave of the crew and with many thanks all around, I disappeared into the jungle with just the clothes on my back, a signal box and a small amount of money in a flexible pouch strapped to my right arm.

  The captain had tried to persuade me to go on-land in a less dangerous place. This was tiger country. I’d assured him I would be ok. Shaking his head at my stupidity, he let me disembark and sailed back to the open sea for more fishing. The payment for my passage would offer him a decent nest- egg for the coming years.

  My plan was to change as soon as I distanced myself from the boat. I wanted to change for the fun of it, not just because I would make better progress in that form. I relished the feeling of the jungle. The combination of wet mangrove forest floor and the smells in the air made me feel right at home. It was a different jungle than the Amazon, but it was a jungle nonetheless and I felt at home.

  I waited until the boat turned to sail parallel to the coast, and then I disappeared into the jungle. Pulling off my lightweight clothes and folding them into the small pouch that I would carry around my back leg, I finally changed and bounded off into the unknown. My roar must have panicked every living creature within a thirty-mile radius. It was even possible that the fishermen had heard. But I didn’t care. I was where I belonged. Besides it would only fuel the stories the fishermen would no doubt tell around their fires. If they thought that the strange female passenger was dead, then that was a plus. No one would be looking for me.

  The jungle was spectacular. Covering approximately ten thousand square kilometres, the Sundarbans is the largest mangrove forest in the world. Most of it is in what used to be Bangladesh, the remainder is in the old India. Even though there is extensive forestry in the Sundarbans, the part I had landed in was avoided by most inhabitants because of the tigers. I loved it.

  I felt even more elated as soon as my paws touched the ground in the dryer part of the forest. Every jungle that I run through feels like home—this one was no exception. The heat was bearable—this time of year was in-between the dry and wet season, the torrential rains were another month away, so I was in my element. I was finally able to be who and what I felt I was born to be. King, or in my case Queen, of the jungle. Soon I would need to feed, but for the moment I just let the pleasure overwhelm me.

  I took down a chital deer later that day. It sated me. The taste was good and I knew that it was going to be a great trip. Laying down I rested and enjoyed my new-found freedom. It had been a long time since I had been in a jungle. The cities were a necessity, because of the bloodlust. But put me in a jungle and I’m where I feel best.

  I stayed in the Sundarbans for longer than necessary. It just felt right. And besides I needed to load up on energy. It also felt great to stay in feline form for an extended amount of time. That hadn’t been an option for almost a year now. Even before Easy.

  I relished the feeling of belonging. The hunts were invigorating. I loaded up on proteins with all the meat that I ate, warmed my bones in the heat of the sun and generally enjoyed myself. Slowly, I made my way where I would set off the small signal box that I carried in the pouch. That would alert the contact of my presence. He would make sure that I was picked up and brought to the next step in this strange journey.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  There was a man standing next to an old and seemingly decrepit truck in the clearing where I was supposed to meet the contact. He was waiting for someone, though he didn’t know who.

  He introduced himself as Jayesh. No surname, but then, none was needed here and I doubt that Jayesh was his real name anyway. I didn’t give mine. Just left it up in the air.

  ‘Are you the only one?’ he asked incredulously. ‘I was told to pick up a party of men.’

  ‘I am the scout.’ I answere
d, deciding to keep things close to my chest. ‘If I see possibilities, the rest will follow.’ That seemed to reassure him in some way. I guess he wasn’t really comfortable with the fact that I was a woman anyway. I reminded myself that Bharat was a male-oriented culture. Not that I was planning on staying and assimilating, my skin and hair colour would give me away in a second, not to mention my eyes.

  Anyway, we needed to get on with the mission.

  ‘Are you sure there is no one else?’ he asked hopefully.

  ‘Nope, I’m all there is at the moment.’

  ‘How did you get this far?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, I’m here.’

  He contemplated how to proceed. I could see it on his face. Would he wait for others, even though I had made it perfectly clear that I was all there was? Or would he just take me to wherever we needed to go? What other options were there? He reached a conclusion, visibly apprehensive about how this would turn out.

  ‘Ok, I will take you to Agra. There you will meet your contact.’

  He looked at my clothes. They were made of parachute material and had been folded into the small bag that I had carried just above the back paw during the trip. He found my bare feet very confusing.

  ‘We must get you something less conspicuous to wear. Something that will hide your features too. You are too obviously foreign. You will stand out. That is dangerous.’ He had a point there.

  He rummaged in the back of his truck. I glanced in when he held up the tarpaulin. It looked like he had everything there including the kitchen sink. His cover was as some kind of merchant maybe? I didn’t know and didn’t care.