powerful bite.
But if it wasn't an escaped or released big cat, she had no idea what it might be.
"Base to Differel." Aelfraed's voice came over her radio. "Base to Differel. Come in Sir Differel. Over."
She set the half-eaten apple aside. "Sir Differel here, Base. Over."
"Report, please. Over."
She smiled. Politeness was unnecessary and inefficient for radio communication, but since it was her he was speaking to, he couldn't help himself.
"All's quiet. Haven't seen a thing all day, except for a few ponies, some Devon cattle, and the Emperor of Exmoor and its harem. Wish I had a camera." The Emperor was a red deer stag that was the largest wild animal in Britain. "What of the other posts? Over." Half a dozen other snipers had been positioned in that local area, gunning for the Beast.
"Nothing different, Madam, though LCpl. Bennings thought he saw something ninety minutes ago. Unfortunately it was too well hidden to identify. Over."
That was the perennial problem with the Beast. The BBC described it as "famous yet elusive". During the height of the '83 outbreak, Royal Marine snipers had been sent in to kill it, but whereas many of them reported seeing it, none felt a successful shot was feasible. Their commanding officer had reported that it seemed to behave with high intelligence, seemingly almost human-like at times, and that it "always moved with surrounding cover amongst hedges and woods." The attacks did decrease during that time, but increased again as soon as the Marines withdrew. She hadn't expected the Caerleon Order to fair much better, though she had hoped that better camouflage and tempting it with food would work. She began to wonder if they had become involved too late.
"Any news on the search for Patsy? Over."
"Unfortunately no, Madam, and with the storm front moving in the constabulary holds out little hope of finding her alive. Over."
She frowned as a grim mood settled in her mind. That had made the current outbreak different from all previous. There are had been four since the first confirmed sightings: 1976 as well 1983, which helped to make the Beast national news, followed by 1990, and finally the current one that had started the previous year. Unfortunately, it coincided with the invasion of the Fomorian wizard-king Grendel, and the United Kingdom had been too busy fighting for its life to worry about a cryptid. By the time Grendel had finally been defeated, the current Beast outbreak had wound down. She followed it mostly out of curiosity for the rest of the year, but was too busy rebuilding the Order to get directly involved, until five days before when Patsy Conover, a nine year old farm girl, had disappeared. Her Majesty then ordered her to deal with the situation, and while she assigned what few agents and guards had survived the invasion to help the local constables with the search, she and Mr. Holt planned and organized the hunt in the hopes of eliminating the Beast once and for all. Not that that would help little Patsy, but it might prevent any more children from being taken.
She suspected only Vlad could find her. Not for the first time she keenly felt his loss.
"What time is it? Over."
"Three, Madam. Over."
"Wait another hour, then come and collect us. Make sure you have plenty of hot food and coffee at the pub, and I think I'll take a long bath tonight. Over."
"Already on it, Madam. Over."
She grinned. That was Aelfraed, always thinking ahead.
She opened her mouth to sign off, when she spotted something creeping across the heath towards the ewe. Though the heather partially obscured it, the newly fallen snow made it stand out better than it otherwise would have.
"Stand by." She reduced the magnification on the scope to widen its field of view and swung it around as she peered through it. Once she spotted the creature, she zoomed in on it.
"Have spotted the Beast. Repeat, have spotted the Beast. It is taking the bait."
It was well within the range of the rifle. Technically she should try to get off a shot before it disappeared into deeper cover or ran off, but she decided to study it first.
"Begin recording. Over."
"Recording begun. Over."
"This is very interesting." She paused as she mentally catalogued its characteristics.
"How so? Over."
"It looks like a bloody big housecat; triangular ears on the top of the head, apple-shaped face, larger cranium, less pronounced snout, lime-green eyes. That could explain the photos and videos dismissed as showing pets. I estimate the length to be six feet; that could explain the variation in size, based on misjudgment. Color is dark gray; under different lighting conditions it could look black or tan. That could explain the color variation, and its ability to hide so well in this kind of environment.
"It's not simply a scaled-up version of a domestic feline; there is some added bulk to it, but the proportions are very close. It has rather long legs and a lanky body; more like a cheetah than a leopard, though not as extreme. This thing would be quite fast, and its bulk suggests it would be fairly powerful. I wish I had a camera." She paused again, fascinated by the sight of the phantom cat.
"Considering that we should soon have an actual body, that seems irrelevant, Madam. Over."
She smirked as she snapped back to reality. "Yes, of course. It's getting closer; I'm going to try for a shot. Over."
She slowly reached down beside herself, pulled off the cover, and picked up the rifle as she carefully rose to one knee. Raising it to her shoulder and steadying it on the thigh of the supporting leg, she sighted the Beast through the telescopic site as she thumbed off the safety. It didn't have the magnification of the spotting scope, but at that distance she didn't need it.
"I'll wait for it to emerge from the shrubs, to get a clear shot, unless it decides to move off. Over."
"Understood. Over."
It emerged from the heather into the open ground in front of the rock outcrop in a full crouch. The ewe saw it and started bleating as it tried to run away. It paused; she centered the crosshairs between its eyes. It stood stock still, staring at the helpless farm animal as if readying itself for a charge, and she gradually put pressure on the trigger to fire.
Then it stood up to its full height and looked around. Puzzled, she glanced up from the scope as she eased off the trigger. "What the..." It almost looked like it was searching for something.
"Madam?"
"Stand by." The Beast sauntered out into the open, paused and gazed about, then started prowling again. Did it suspect a trap? she wondered. It came within a fathom of the frantic sheep. It stared straight at it for a moment, then ignored it as it walked past towards the outcrop.
"Bloody hell. It's not interested in the bait."
"Maybe it has already eaten?"
"Perhaps, but I assume not. It's definitely hunting something, just not the ewe. It's coming towards me."
"Shoot it, Differel, before it gets too close."
She looked through the sight again, her finger on the trigger, but the cat didn't come straight for her, and it casted about in a leisurely fashion.
She raised her head. "I don't believe it's hunting me either. I don't think it even knows I'm here."
"Don't take any chances. Protect yourself."
He was right, of course, and yet... "No, something's wrong. I think we've made a mistake."
"How so?"
Before she had a chance to respond she heard a hiss behind her, like a muted calliope whistle. She pivoted, rising to a squat, and threw off the blanket and netting. Further up the outcrop, no more than fifteen feet away, sat a monstrosity. Looking like a skinned cat, it was a dull brick-red covered in dark reddish-brown squamous patches, with six legs, and two tails that lashed back and forth like cracking whips. It had a single yellow eye just above the bridge of its snout, its teeth were fused upper and lower bony plates that resembled chisels, and its ears were thin and sharply pointed. In lieu of whiskers, however, fan-shaped structures sprouted from its upper lip, its cheeks, and its eyebrows.
Oh, bugger! "We have made a mistake. I'm staring down a Ca
t From Mars."
"St. George defend us!"
"I certainly hope so, because these four-sixty rounds won't do a bloody bit of good unless I hit it in the eye or the open mouth. I knew I should've brought one of Vlad's anti-material pistols!" Their 20mm shells would have blown a hole in the Martian Cat big enough to drive a lorry through.
"Tell Mr. Holt to get out here with an L82 ASAP. I'll try to--"
It leapt at her. She swung the rifle up and fired before it slammed into her. It threw her onto her back; the spotting scope went flying and she cracked her head on the limestone rock. She saw stars, heard Aelfraed calling her name, and then oblivion sucked her down.
"Madam!" Aelfraed shouted into the microphone. "Sir Differel! Differel!" Only silence came out of the speakers.
"Shouting won't do any good!" he heard Mrs. Widget say behind him.
He closed his eyes and forced himself to be calm. "I am well aware of that, Dear Sister."
"Don't 'dear sister' me, Brother Mine. We can't waste any time, we need to get going."
He turned and flashed a knowing smile with a raised eyebrow. She was fishing a Parker Hale PDW submachine gun out of the weapons trunk. "'We', Madam?"
She inserted a 180-round drum magazine into the weapon. "It will take too long to collect the other snipers or recall our people engaged in the search." She cocked the gun and eyed him over her granny glasses. "Differel may not have much time. We're the only ones who can reach her quickly."
He nodded. "Mr. Holt."
Differel's Master-at-Arms came in from one of
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