“If you don’t come with me, Mr. Halliburton, your life might be in danger.”
Richard chuckled. “My life is always in danger, whether at the hands of someone else or by my own choosing. If you’re not grappling with your own mortality, you’re merely existing instead of truly living.”
“But if you’re dead by morning, no one will care about how you grappled with your mortality. You’ll simply cease to exist. Now, you don’t have much time as I’m sure the Reichswehr already know that their assassination plot against you failed.”
Richard exhaled. “You do make an excellent point.”
“So you’ll come with me?”
“Do I really have a choice?”
“Not if you desire to live to see another sunrise.”
Richard turned toward Slim. “Godspeed, my friend. Enjoy all that Calcutta has to offer. Perhaps we’ll see each other again at sea.”
Slim’s mouth fell agape. “You—you’re going with him?”
“Apparently, it’s the only sensible thing to do,” Richard said, patting Slim on his shoulder.
“But I thought—”
“Good luck, Slim,” Richard said as he strode toward the rickshaw. He climbed into the seat and looked back at his friend, who gave a halfhearted wave.
“We haven’t been properly introduced,” Halliburton said, offering his hand. “Richard Halliburton from Memphis, Tennessee.”
“Anup Rahut from right here in Calcutta,” the man answered as he shook Richard’s hand.
Anup positioned himself to pull the cart and broke into a slow jog.
“So, who really sent you, Anup?” Richard asked.
Anup shot a quick glance over his shoulder at Richard. “Do you know a man named Hank Foster?”
“Perhaps,” Richard said. “Was he the one who paid you to pick me up?”
Anup nodded. “I met him several years ago while waiting for a new client near the port. Mr. Foster always pays me well.”
“He was here? In Calcutta?” Richard asked as his eyes widened.
“Several days ago he found me and asked me to look for the Gold Shell to dock. He said you’d be on it.”
“And you’re taking me to a Dr. Knapp?”
Anup shook his head and laughed. “No, I’m not taking you, but I’ve arranged for a train ticket for you.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Dr. Knapp lives in Dhamtari. It’s about five hundred miles from here. You wouldn’t catch me in that village in a million years. However, you might enjoy yourself there.”
Richard furrowed his brow. “Why would you never go there but think I would enjoy it?”
“It’s in the heart of the jungle, Mr. Halliburton. With wild animals prowling all around the village, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to grapple with your mortality.”
What are you up to this time, Hank?
* * *
THE RIDE ALONG the rickety rails made Richard yearn for a yawing sea, despite the fact that he’d secured a first class ticket. Anup had given Richard a third class rail pass, but he slipped the conductor some extra money to earn an upgrade at a far better bargain than purchasing one outright. Nevertheless, Richard wondered if he would ever reach Dhamtari after chugging along a route that appeared to be an endless jungle with brief respites of rural farming communities.
Several hours into the trip, the man sitting across from Richard finally spoke. “First time in India?”
Richard glanced at the man. He wore a monocle and had appeared engrossed by the contents of his edition of the Calcutta newspaper until now.
“Is it that obvious?” Richard replied.
The man smiled. “Well, you only need to take a train through India once to realize that staring out the window is a terrible way to pass the boredom. The only thing you’ll see while on seemingly endless trips through the jungle is green vegetation with an occasional peak in the distance. You might as well be looking at the same picture for sixteen hours.”
“I take it this is something you do quite often,” Richard said.
“It’s an unfortunate requirement of the job as a magistrate here. It’s been three years since the Government of India Act passed, and we’re still sorting out the mess.”
“If it gives you any encouragement, aside from the heat and the foreign dress, I almost would’ve thought I was in England after we reached port in Calcutta.”
“Then you didn’t venture far enough into the city. The port is about the only thing that would be up to our standards. Everything else feels chaotic, which is how the people here prefer it. And as long as they’re happy, parliament is satisfied.”
The man began reading his newspaper again while Richard returned his gaze to the unchanging landscape, hoping to prove the man wrong with the sighting of some exotic wild animal. After a few more minutes, the man exchanged his paper for some documents he’d retrieved from his briefcase. Richard couldn’t make out any of the contents, but he noticed the phrase “Top Secret” stamped on the outside.
After a half hour, the man returned the folder to his case and carried it with him as he left his seat. When he came back ten minutes later, he situated his belongings and then settled into his seat and closed his eyes. Five minutes later, he was asleep.
Richard waited for a few minutes before he sprang into action. He crept onto the floor next to the briefcase and jimmied open the lock. As he opened the top of the case, he found several dossiers. But only one of them was marked “Top Secret.” Richard found it and opened the first page, the title jumping out at him: “Ancient Treasure: A Strategy for How to Tap India’s Vast Hidden Resources.”
Before he could read another word, the man moved, repositioning his feet and hitting Richard in the process. He rushed to slide the folder into the briefcase and latched it shut.
Richard’s heart pounded in his chest, and he said a little prayer that the man seated across the aisle would remain asleep. In an effort to avoid suspicion, Richard closed his eyes and drifted off.
Chapter 4
Dhamtari, India
RICHARD AWOKE the next morning when he received a sharp jab from the conductor.
“We’re approaching your stop,” he said.
Richard rubbed his eyes and glanced around the cabin. Several passengers remained aboard, but the British magistrate was gone.
“Are we in Dhamtari?” Richard asked.
“We will be in five minutes,” the conductor said. “I thought you might want some extra time to gather all your belongings.”
Richard thanked the man and collected his suitcase as well as his satchel and prepared to meet Dr. Knapp. Anup had given Richard a dossier that contained scant information about Dr. Knapp, most of it benign yet vital to identifying him. Richard couldn’t help but wonder why he was assigned to visit a Mennonite mission in the middle of India.
After glancing at the picture of Dr. Knapp, Richard reread the protocol for greeting the man at the train depot. Once Richard assured himself that he understood who he was looking for, he identified Dr. Knapp. The missionary was seated on a bench and wearing a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up just past his elbow. He scanned each passenger as they stepped onto the platform.
Richard locked gazes with Dr. Knapp and strode up to him. “It’s another fine day in India.”
“Depends on what you fancy,” Dr. Knapp said, his voice deep and gruff.
“Lions, tigers, and bears.”
Dr. Knapp nodded. “We’ve got plenty of tigers, and I’ll show them to you, if you’re interested.”
The exchange was all scripted according to the dossier’s instructions, confirming for both men that they were meeting the right person.
“Let’s take a walk,” Dr. Knapp said as he stood.
Dr. Knapp remained quiet as he lumbered along the dusty road toward his compound. They walked for ten minutes through the burgeoning village’s center. A marketplace situated in the middle appeared to serve as the heartbeat of the community. E
verything from butter and eggs to blankets and clothes to iron-forged tools and wooden wheels were traded there. One woman approached Richard in an attempt to lure him to her booth, but Dr. Knapp gave her a stern look that promptly ended her hasty pitch.
They finally arrived at the mission, which was a walled compound located on the outskirts of town. Dr. Knapp nodded at the guard outside, who hustled to unlock the large gate and open it.
As they entered, Richard noticed a flurry of activity around the main courtyard. Several women huddled outside in rocking chairs while knitting clothing. A couple of men tended a small herd of goats in one corner, while a half dozen children worked with a supervisor to cultivate a small patch of dirt. It didn’t take long for Richard to see why the locals treated Dr. Knapp with reverence. Introducing innovations from the west was slowly pushing the village into the 20th Century, and the people appeared eager to learn. Yet there was still a way about Dr. Knapp that made Richard think there was more to the missionary than what he revealed.
Dr. Knapp led Richard down a breezeway before taking a hard right down a dark corridor with a single door at the far end.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
Dr. Knapp stopped and eyed Richard carefully. “You’re still wondering why you’re here, aren’t you?”
“I’d be lying if I denied it.”
“Well, I’m about to show you,” Dr. Knapp said before inserting a key into the lock and then putting his shoulder into the door. It creaked open and Richard followed Dr. Knapp into a dark room. He shuffled from one oil lamp to the next, lighting each one until the room was aglow.
In an instant, Richard realized that Dr. Knapp wasn’t who he seemed. At the far end of the room were wooden cutouts of people, most of them riddled with holes. Against the wall were sandbags stacked floor to ceiling, designed to catch the bullets and soundproof the room. To Richard’s right stood a large cache of weapons in an open chest.
“A Mennonite missionary,” Richard said with a chuckle. “Are you now going to tell me what I’m really doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Dr. Knapp said, making a sweeping gesture around the room with his hand. “I’m here to train you.”
“To do what?”
“To fight and shoot better. I heard you had some close calls on your last assignment in Egypt, closer than they should’ve been according to Hank Foster.”
“My last assignment?” Richard asked as he started to chuckle. “That was the only assignment I’ve ever had. Hank had just recruited me and threw me into the fray.”
Dr. Knapp grinned. “That’s the only way to do it. Do you think I knew anything about how to be a missionary before Army Intelligence assigned me to the middle of the jungle?”
“Based on what I saw earlier, you look like you figured it out.”
“Yes, but I didn’t have to learn it while my life was constantly being threatened. The only thing that posed real danger to me was something I already knew how to take care of—and something I’m going to show you how to handle later. But first things first. Show me what you’ve got in the realm of hand-to-hand combat.”
Richard cocked his head to one side. “Really? I just—”
A swift jab to his midsection cut his response short. Dr. Knapp was already dancing around, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he darted from side to side. He went for an uppercut, but Richard was ready, narrowly avoiding a direct blow to his jaw and spinning into a leg kick that walloped Dr. Knapp in his side.
“Good,” Dr. Knapp said as he staggered backward. “This is what I wanted to see. If I’m going to train you, I need to know what I’m working with before we begin.”
Richard decided to show off the rest of his repertoire. Unleashing a flurry of punches at Dr. Knapp, Richard thought he was to teach his tutor a few things. But in the end, Richard’s flashy moves were little more than sound and fury, summarily dismissed when he struggled to land a direct hit on the skilled Dr. Knapp. He only had to absorb one punch during the onslaught before putting Richard on his back in two swift moves.
“Thank you,” Dr. Knapp said as he put his knee into Richard’s chest and loomed over him. “Now I know I’ve got my work cut out for me.”
* * *
FOR SIX DAYS, Richard trained twelve hours a day, breaking only to eat and for short rests. Most of his mornings and afternoons were comprised of learning how to fight, but two hours were set aside for target practice at the secret indoor range. When the seventh day dawned, Richard was so sore that he wasn’t convinced he could get out of bed when Dr. Knapp rapped on the door.
“Mr. Halliburton, it’s time to get up,” he said from the hallway.
“Even God rested one day during a week,” Richard said with a slight moan.
“We’re not training today—at least not hand-to-hand.”
Richard rolled out of bed and then shuffled across the floor. He opened the door and peered into the hallway.
“You ready?” Dr. Knapp asked.
“What are we doing?”
“Get dressed, and I’ll tell you on the way.”
Richard hustled into his clothes and then exited his room, meeting Dr. Knapp in the breezeway just outside.
“Would you mind telling me what we’re doing today?” Richard asked again.
“You’re going to learn how to be a sniper.”
“I’m going to shoot someone?” Richard asked, his eyes widening. “Today?”
“Not exactly.”
Richard followed Dr. Knapp through a back gate. In less than a hundred meters, they had ventured into the thick jungle vegetation. Dr. Knapp slashed a path with his machete as the two men traveled along. After a half hour, Dr. Knapp stopped beside a stream and scanned the area.
“We’ll go there,” he said, gesturing up toward a tree with his blade.
“Are you finally going to tell me what we’re doing out here?” Richard asked.
“We’re going to catch a predator, one that’s been terrorizing this village for a few weeks now.”
“What kind of predator are we talking about? A wild animal?”
Dr. Knapp nodded. “Precisely. But more specifically, a tiger.”
“I knew it,” Richard said. “That guy on the train acted like I wouldn’t see any wildlife like that here, but I just knew he was blowing me off for some reason.”
“Was he British?”
“How did you know?”
Dr. Knapp laughed. “The British ruling class generally avoid the heart of India and never see the things everyone writes about and wants to see when they visit. They’re almost in denial about what stalks around the villages and cities.”
“And you obviously know better.”
“Of course I do. I’ve lived here a long time. And let me assure you that if you can handle a tiger, you can handle any assignment U.S. Army Intelligence gives you. And if you don’t . . .”
Richard didn’t need Dr. Knapp to finish his statement. The implications were perfectly clear: Hunting a tiger was the most difficult assignment Richard could have, and if he couldn’t pass it, he wouldn’t make a very good agent. Richard also considered how he might also die if he didn’t succeed.
“Is this how you sift through the pool of candidates?” Richard asked. “Or is it how you thin the predators around your village?”
Dr. Knapp shrugged. “A little of both, I guess. But it’s been a while since we’ve had a fatality among any of our potential agents.”
“I’m not sure I’m cut out for this.”
“Sure you are. You love adventure and the danger that comes with it. This is the perfect job for you. What’s more exciting than walking into a kill-or-be-killed situation?”
“I can think of plenty.”
“But can any of those be helping your country while keeping other tyrants at bay?”
Richard didn’t answer. Though he didn’t want to, he had killed a man in Egypt. The thought of taking another human life wasn’t appealing. However, in the scenario t
hat Dr. Knapp was describing, Richard preferred to acquire the skills necessary to remain alive if ever forced into such a predicament.
They reached a small clearing, and then Dr. Knapp strode over to the base of a tree. Seemingly effortless, he ascended about three-quarters of the way to the top. Once situated on a thick branch, he beckoned Richard. While Dr. Knapp was the appointed expert, Richard scaled the tree more quickly than his guide.
“So, now what?” Richard asked as he settled onto a branch just below Dr. Knapp.
“Now we wait.”
“You expect a tiger to just saunter by?”
“Only because I know my enemy,” Dr. Knapp said. “You’re learning how to be an assassin already, and you hardly even know it.”
“Climbing a tree is an essential skill?”
“We found a favorable position and claimed it,” Dr. Knapp said. “We also moved high enough to escape any potential immediate danger.”
“But why this spot?”
“Detailed intelligence will dictate where the best potential locations are to target your enemy. For example, I’ve lived here long enough and observed the habits of this tiger to know he will walk by this area very soon.”
“And we’re just going kill this animal?” Richard asked with a scowl.
“He ate two small children last week who wandered off into the jungle.”
“Maybe parents should be more watchful and we wouldn’t have to shoot a gorgeous animal.”
“There’s nothing beautiful about watching a wild animal feast on human flesh, trust me.”
They sat in silence for the next five minutes. Richard mulled over all that he’d heard, wondering if he’d have the guts to pull the trigger. Then he received his chance sooner than he’d imagined.
“There she is,” Dr. Knapp whispered as he peered through his binoculars.
Richard scanned the opening and saw the large creature easing along the jungle floor without even the slightest of sounds. The moment was a peaceful one, captivating Richard’s imagination. But it was cut short by a shrill yelp from Dr. Knapp.
The Raja's Lost Treasure Page 3
