The Beast Inside
Page 5
I took the clothes he gave me and changed into them, stuffing my own back in the small pouch. We then boarded the old truck and he inched us out of the clearing accompanied by a big cloud of black smoke from the exhaust. I hoped the old rickety vehicle would make it to our destination.
On the open road, the truck turned out to be a lot better than I had expected. We actually made good time and by early morning the next day we entered the outskirts of Agra.
He stopped at a cafe on the side of the road and instructed me to get in the back of the truck under the goods there, so as not to attract attention. I complied, though I did find a spot where I could see outside through a small rip in the truck’s canvas. I needed to get an idea of the city, and I wanted to know where we were going.
After about twenty minutes of weaving in and out of small streets, I was convincingly lost.
Another hour later, and we were somewhere at the edge of a suburb on a small industrial plot. We pulled up at a warehouse and Jayesh tapped the horn twice. The garage door opened and he drove the truck into the cavernous space. We stopped about twenty meters in.
I waited until he opened the tarpaulin and called me out.
Climbing out of the truck I saw a group of men standing about ten feet from us. They looked tough. Bodyguards, most of them. The man in the middle looked like the VIP, someone who seemingly warranted such extreme protection measures.
‘Is she all there is?’ One of the bodyguards asked the driver, plainly disappointed.
‘Yes Prahbu, there was no one else.’ Jayesh kept his head bowed and didn’t address the guard or the VIP directly. My driver was scared stiff. I could smell it on him. The tremors in his folded hands added to my conviction. The VIP signalled to the bodyguard who had spoken.
‘Leave’ the man said. The driver let out a sigh of relief and bowing superfluously, backed towards the truck cab. Seconds later he started the engine and backed out of the warehouse.
I stayed where I was.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I looked around.
The inside of the warehouse was barren. There was clearly not much trade done here. To my right there were a few boxes stacked on top of each other. Behind that was a small cubicle, probably an office of some kind.
My gaze moved once again to the group of men openly staring at me—none of them in a kindly manner. But I’m used to that.
There were six in total, five heavily armed with Kalashnikovs. Kind of over the top if you ask me, especially as they didn’t know what I could do. At least I hoped they didn’t. I’d made a deal with Barkley that the less info sent to the inside man, the better. And in no way, was anyone to know what the extent was of my talents. That was my edge and I meant to keep it.
The VIP also remained silent. He just observed me, as I did him.
He was a rotund man of about fifty or there about, well into the morbidly obese side of the population. That in itself seemed a travesty in a country where more than half of the inhabitants were starving. His demeanour and dress was one of a man of power. Someone used to being feared. My calm mannerisms weren’t going down well with him. He expected me to be impressed. Sorry. Don’t impress easily.
‘Where are your comrades?’ he finally demanded in a high-pitched shrill voice. Now that was unexpected, it almost made me laugh. I managed to stop myself on time.
‘I’m it’ I answered. ‘For the moment.’
‘When is the rest coming?’
‘When I say it’s time.’ I intentionally lowered my voice so that he could hardly hear me.
Lifting his hand, he gestured me to come closer.
I complied and stopped a metre from him.
His aura was off.
There was something about this guy that made my hairs stand on end. More than just his appearance and his stupid childish voice. I had learnt to trust my instincts the hard way, so I was wary.
With all his grandeur and posturing, he was nervous. I didn’t know if it was me, or maybe just that things were not going to plan. Like the driver, he had obviously expected more than one person, and definitely not a woman. I had insisted that the inside man would not know how many people were coming. Blame that on my paranoia. I have an issue when it comes to trusting people, especially those that were obviously already betraying someone else. Something told me that my paranoia was bang on here. Things were not as they seemed.
‘Who sent you?’ he demanded.
‘Cut the crap. You know who.’ He didn’t like my directness. I guess he wasn’t used to a woman speaking to him like that. The guard behind him flinched at my lack of manners. But I wasn’t here for etiquette, I was here to do a job.
The VIP changed tactics.
‘You surprised us. We had expected a group’ he explained in a more relaxed tone of voice. I nodded. ‘I trust your trip was uneventful?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good, did anyone other than the driver see you?’
‘Not that I’m aware of.’
‘Excellent.’ He clapped his hands like a three-year-old—he was really starting to look ridiculous.
‘Please,’ he added pointing to the stretched limousine behind him. ‘Let us retire to more comfortable transport.’
Not waiting for my answer, he turned and walked to the car. One of the muscle opened the door for him and he sat his immense bulk down in the plush seats. I walked to the other side, opened the door myself and sat down opposite him. The windows were blinded so that no one could look in, though we could see out. One bodyguard sat in the passenger seat next to the driver, the remainder distributed themselves over the two SUVs and we left the building.
The trip to his mansion was certainly pleasant. The suspension on the limo was so much better than that of the bumping truck. We remained silent during the trip. He sipped his drink and observed me, his gaze lingering over my hair and body.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
After a long trip, they finally stopped at a beautiful mansion on the outskirts of the city. It was an expansive two-story white building with columns and marble and all that you would expect in a setting like this.
They were met by servants as soon as the cars stopped. Both doors were opened at the same time, Jess and the VIP stepped out into the sunlight. After the car’s air-conditioning the heat hit her like a hammer. The air was humid, even the slight breeze didn’t alleviate the sweltering temperature. The Sundarbans had been better than this.
They walked through the door into a gigantic foyer. Here the cool stylish whiteness and minimalistic style of the exterior was discarded in favour of an over-the-top gilded and screamingly colourful interior that was tasteless and gaudy. There was no style apparent. Just a blatant exhibition of wealth in the gold-leaf and the marble statues that adorned the multiple alcoves throughout the interior.
Jess felt like running back out in to the sweltering heat. Everything was better than this. It was worse than a bad dream.
Five servants were lined up to greet their master. They were dressed in a cheaper version of the same kind of gaudy costume that the VIP was wearing. The fear they exuded was enough to convince Jess that she had been correct in her earlier observation— this was a dangerous man, despite his flabby and unimposing appearance.
They walked on through to an equally obnoxious living room. Plush sofa’s and cushions littered the floor.
’Sit’ he said, moving to a grand sofa and settling his enormous bulk in the plush. Jess looked around and sat down on a chair that looked at least a bit more structured.
’So, you are all there is’ he continued. Jess refrained from answering. She looked him directly in the eye. He chuckled. ‘I understand why they sent you, you are fearless. Though maybe not a clever decision in the context of this country.’ A servant brought them each a cold drink and then quickly made his getaway. ‘A woman with your attitude will stand out here. You will need to comply to our culture if you are to fulfil your task.’ He openly glared at Jess. A crooked smile on his lips. ‘We wil
l need a cover story for you, one that would be believable.’ Jess let him speak for the moment. She looked around. Two of the bodyguards had followed them into the room and stationed themselves on either side of their master. They were big men and their blood-red turbans and dark beards enhanced their menacing appearance. The curved sword on their belt was a throwback to previous centuries, but none the less dangerous.
‘You will pose as my new concubine’ the morbidly obese man stated. ‘Then you can stay here in my harem and I will relay the information to you.’ He almost drooled. ‘At night, when we share my bed.’
Jess looked him in the eye. She had to stop herself from laughing. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. He misread her, thinking she agreed. She quickly burst that bubble.
‘You have got to be kidding’ Jess said. ‘Your concubine? And that would be believable?’ She laughed. ‘No way. Not in this lifetime. Think again. I will not be stuck here in this carnival house waiting for information. Get me into the palace. That’s what I’m here for.’ He was shocked. ‘Oh’. She added. ‘And if you even think of touching me with one of your fat sausage fingers, then you will lose it.’ She emphasised her words with a new stare.
He was livid. Not only had she rebutted his advances, she even presumed to give him an order. She, a woman, a heathen. The steam was almost coming out of his ears. The bodyguard on the right already had his hand on his sword in anticipation of what he now expected was inevitable. The woman would die—there was no question about that. The insult was too great.
‘Pull yourself together.’ Jess continued, completely ignoring the tension in the air. She was tired of the macho bullshit and wanted to get on with what she was here for. The contract was a necessity, but not her true focus. She wanted to finally concentrate on her own agenda. ‘This can’t be the first time you’ve been turned down. Not with the way that you look.’ She emphasised her words with her intensely disapproving look. ‘Your charm obviously isn’t as big as you think it is, and all this doesn’t impress me either. Now let’s cut all the crap and get down to business. I need the intel that you promised my clients.’
The sword came half way out of its scabbard, but was stayed there by a hand gesture from the VIP.
His demeanour changed dramatically. A smile once more on his lips, he addressed her in a calm and composed voice.
‘We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. You misunderstand me, it was a suggestion, as a cover, no more than that. Our culture forbids the actual copulation with heathens and besides, I find you obnoxious and unattractive.’
Yeah, right, she thought, but stayed silent.
‘I seek only to keep you safe and offer the information so that your superiors can finally come here.’ He clapped his hands. A servant appeared next to him. ‘Bring her to her rooms.’ He ordered. ‘And prepare a bath. Her stink is reprehensible.’ He turned back to Jess. ‘First you will bathe and rest. Then we will speak further.’ He dismissed her with a short wave of his hand.
Jess followed the servant, glad to be away from the master of the house, and looking forward to a soothing bath. To be truthful, she did stink. The trip in the back of the filthy truck had done her no favours odour-wise.
The bath was wonderful. The scented water soothed her and she calmed down. The attire that the truck driver had given her was snatched away and burned. The maid wanted to take her pouch containing her own clothes, but she refused to let her. She washed them in the bath and left them to dry over the balcony. The realisation dawned on her that the earlier conversation probably had not been a good way to start the cooperation with the inside man. She would have to tone it down a bit. She stood out in this country and if she wanted to fulfil the contract she needed his help. Not that she trusted him, her intuition still warned her that things were not as they seemed. How did Barkley know that this man could be trusted? He didn’t. That was the basic truth. So, she would follow her intuition and keep her eyes open.
Several hours later, rested and dressed in her own clothes, she once again joined her host in the gaudy living room.
‘Ah’ he welcomed her. ‘The smell at least is better, though I do not approve of the clothes.’ Despite his snub about her pants and blouse, he appraised her openly, so much for his earlier comments about no attraction. ‘The colour suits you well. Though you will never pass as a citizen in foreign clothes’ he added. The guard helped him out of the sofa and he walked to the next room, indicating that she follow. It was a dining room. Just as much a travesty as the living room, but now with a massive marble table laden with food. That in itself was a perversion in the country. The food that was laid out for the two of them would feed a small village. Much of this would be wasted. She was disgusted, but hungry too. So she swallowed her aversion and took the proffered seat opposite the master of the house.
‘I have not introduced myself yet. I am Abhor. I am a trusted advisor of our great emperor.’ The way he spoke of Bharata underlined her doubts about his loyalty. ‘What is your name?’ he took the first of the food and started to stuff his face.
‘Jess.’ She said, and proceeded to eat as well. The food tasted fantastic. Lots of different traditional Indian dishes. She enjoyed the spice and the multitude of tastes. The guilty feeling of waste was pushed to the background. She needed the sustenance.
Abhor talked throughout the meal, embellishing his successes in business and in politics. Jess listened half-heartedly. The information was uninteresting and mundane. He was showing off. So she just ate.
The evening progressed. Jess finally asked Abhor direct questions about Bharata. She was tired of all the posturing and bullshit. He reluctantly answered her questions. Finally, she was getting somewhere.
’So, the emperor hardly ever comes out of the palace?’ Jess asked.
‘Only on state tours, and then he is accompanied by his imperial guard. They form an impenetrable barrier around him. Your people will not be able to get near him.’
‘What do you advise?’ she asked.
‘I cannot discuss that with you.’
‘Why not?’
‘I will only speak of that with the ones who will carry out the assassination attempt. Never with a messenger.’ She got the impression that he wanted to say, never to a woman, but stopped himself just in time.’
‘Like I said. I’m it. You speak to me, or to no one.’ She had decided to push him.
‘No’ he was adamant. ‘First you contact your superior, then I will speak with him when he arrives,’ he stood up and abruptly left the room. Dismissing her.
There was nothing she could do about that now. She pushed her chair back and walked out of the dining room into the grounds surrounding the villa. One of the guards followed her.
The night was cooler and the temperature was much more pleasant than it had been earlier that day. The slight breeze cooled her skin. She walked through the extensive gardens, trying to order her thoughts. There was something that was pushing at the edge of her consciousness. A feeling, not of dread, maybe excitement, but mixed with something else, something she couldn’t name yet. The only time she had experienced anything that compared to this was in Easy. And there she had not been able to define the origin either. Pushing it to the recesses of her mind she turned to the mission she was on. How in hell was she going to get anywhere near the emperor? He barely came out of the palace, and no one was able to get in the extensive buildings without an invitation and a thorough vetting. No chance of that for her, as Abhor had so eloquently remarked, she stood out. She knew where the palace was, and had seen the blueprints, that had been in the briefing in Australia. But that was it. No one had offered any suggestions on how to get in. She would have to find a way. And quickly. Otherwise she just might lose it and kill her irritating host. It was unbelievable that he could even consider coming on to her, it took all her resolve not to finish him right now. But that would be counter-productive.
She would just have to sit it out. And hope it didn’t take too long.
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Three days later, she was no closer to a solution than the day she arrived. Abhor insisted that he only talk to her superior and that she get the team over immediately. Between renewed efforts to get her into his bed and his incessant whining about the real agents, he was really getting on her nerves. The unease that she had been experiencing grew every day. There was no immediate cause, but it grew nevertheless. The boredom didn’t help either.
That evening she had a massive argument with Abhor when he, once again, came on to her. She actually physically pushed him away and he landed on his ample butt on the cushions in the living room. The guards rushed to his aid and to apprehend her but the aura she radiated stopped them. Her own anger and strength was enough to make them think twice. Abhor was furious. He fumed.
‘You worthless heathen’ he raved. ‘You dare to touch me, to attack me.’
‘Just be glad that you got off this easily.’ She was making it worse, she knew that, but couldn’t stop herself. She turned and stormed out of the room.
The guards were flabbergasted, not knowing how to react. ‘You will pay for that.’ Abhor screamed in his high-pitched voice as she walked out the door.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Well, I was right again.
Great.
Big deal.
Abhor betrayed me.
In hindsight, I think the only reason I’d gotten this far was because he was still “waiting for the rest of the group”. I guess he just lost his patience and finally decided that no one else was coming. And let’s not forget, I spurned his advances in a not too subtle way. They came for me in the last hours of the night, while I was asleep. Usually I hear any sound, but I was stuck in a particularly bad nightmare and that left me vulnerable. Before I came to my senses, they pumped me full of some kind of drug, clamped old fashioned metal cuffs on my arms and ankles, and dragged me away to a stark room in the cellar of the villa. The drug was just enough to disorient me, and even though my body metabolised the substance in record time, I had been captured.