The Huntsman

by Rafael

  CHAPTER 17 Last Rites

  At any moment Wolford might lose it, Janesh thought. For three hours they had hauled bodies on a flat pushcart to the ship’s one refrigerated hold. Death, not satisfied with life, took dignity as well. Eyes, frozen in the last realization, stared but saw nothing. Heads lolled, mouths gaped, limbs dangled. Stilled nerve controls emptied bladders and intestines. The stench, putrid and heavy, hung on one’s flesh.

  “Don’t breathe through your nose. It will ease the nausea. Want to take a break?” Wolford raised his head, eyes tearing. He looked back down at what remained of Fogarty and Barnes. The explosion that blew the hatch off had left them unrecognizable.

  “Damn it. I know their wives. I know their children. They’ll look at me and I won’t be able to say a thing.” He grabbed Fogarty by the wrists. “C’mon. I don’t want them out here rotting.” The corpse fell back leaving him holding two arms. Wolford vomited. Janesh turned away to let him gather himself.

  Guided by the faint glow of Exit signs, one wheel squeaked as they moved along the darkened passageway. No other sound echoed along the lifeless ship. Their ghastly labor only added to the eeriness and Janesh took comfort the dogs would warn him if the shadows hid anything dangerous or unimaginable. Ben’s lowered voice revealed his own unease. “The USS King won’t be here for another seven hours. Play some cards?”

  Even if their communicators had not worked, an overdue ChangLi would have alerted the forensic team waiting in Honolulu. With the naval destroyer steaming toward them, a sudden storm presented their only real danger. “Sorry. Solitaire’s my game.”

  “Hmm. I might have known. Somehow it suits you.”

  “I bear losing more gracefully when it’s to myself.”

  They laid Fogarty and Barnes alongside the others, covered them with bed sheets, then sealed the hold’s lower access hatch behind them. Neither glanced at the haphazard pile of pirates thrown against the adjacent bulkhead. They left the pushcart and retraced their steps along the murky passageway. Ben exhaled with great relief.

  “Mind if you take the first watch on the bridge? I need to lie down for a couple hours. Maybe we’ll be lucky and the ship’s plumbing, like the holds, has a dedicated power source. If not, the water should still be warm enough to shower in. I’ll leave some for you.”

  “Sure. There’s no reason for both of us to be on the bridge.”

  “You don’t seem bothered about Miranda.” Janesh ignored the probe.

  “I’ll be on the bridge if you need me.”

  On silent pads, Duncan and Ronan trotted up to flank him up the companionway. How could this man of the West even begin to comprehend? Years of deep meditation prevented anguish and torment from reducing him to emotional jelly. Head bowed, he paused on a step to fill his lungs then exhaled to slowly fill them again. Just hearing her name threatened a cry of agony. She had become a pawn in his war with Nicholas Koh. He would set a trap with her as bait. The crime lord counted on emotion clouding his arch rival’s reasoning. Janesh sank deep within; strained to seal the rupture his aching heart had cleaved. Miranda’s life depended on it.

  After a moment he raised his head, eyes clear and dry. A simmering rage burned hot, suffused his body, but remained below the surface. It would focus him. With a leap, he took the stairs two at a time. Sweat glistened on a still bare torso. His heart and lungs barely moved. He stepped onto the bridge where a warm, tropical breeze drifted in through the control room’s shattered windows. The blast’s devastation extended to the equipment but the commanding, panoramic view made it a good place to await the destroyer’s arrival—and keep watch.

  He had two immediate problems to solve and began clearing debris for easier movement. The second remained stubborn and intractable. Any action against Nicholas Koh would fail unless he understood why bodies continued to pile up around the scientific equipment. What did it do? They’d come close to an answer but no one had imagined a mid-ocean armed assault?

  With the CIA’s penchant for need-to-know secrecy, he remained noncommittal about its involvement. If not the field operatives, senior management might know more than they let on. If so, they’d have self-serving priorities. And weaving an intermingled thread throughout, something continued to deal its own brand of horrific death. Convinced it all somehow formed a coherent whole, he remained no closer to understanding than when he first laid eyes on Miranda.

  He stopped pushing a broken console and let his head sink between his arms. Her cries rang in his ears. Rapid breaths accompanied the certainty of horrors she would be subjected to. His impotence enraged him. Duncan and Ronan rubbed their heads against his legs. He bent on one knee to wrap an arm around each and squeeze them close. Their love and loyalty cleansed his soul.

  Growls erupted. They broke off and raced down the companionway. Below, their bays echoed across the deck. Janesh rushed to the window and leaned out. He froze. A gigantic bird, perched on a hold, spread its wings and with a mighty flap took to the air. The dogs leaped and missed by inches. Two more flaps brought it over the water where a shimmering hole opened mid-air. When it flew in, bird and hole disappeared.

  Janesh continued to stare. Clouds languished overhead. Gentle waves lapped against the ship’s hull. Duncan and Ronan, noses to the deck, prowled to recapture a scent. Ten seconds had shattered his reality. It vanished before an onrushing locomotive. Gears locked in place. Understanding dawned. He’d just seen the monster that mounted armless trophies.

  What was it? Why had it come here? The scientific equipment! Like him, the bird-like nightmare searched for it. Everywhere it went the creature trailed. And everywhere the creature appeared so did dead bodies. Wolford!

  Janesh raced for the companionway, leaping the short stairs landing by landing. Belowdecks he pulled up, shouted Wolford’s name. Which cabin had he taken? His premonition darkened as each call produced no response. Maybe he slept? Desperate, Janesh tested each door. Some opened. Others he had to kick in. A blood-splattered interior ended the search. His head sank. Against a side wall, arms pasted to his back, Wolford hung by the face.

  * * *

  Janesh sat in a bland, cheaply furnished conference room. The downtown Honolulu building’s directory did not list it as belonging to the regional CIA. He wondered what the local station chief might have done to not deserve the tax-payer funded luxuries government honchos felt befitted their rank. Three from Washington sat opposite him. Each had the same smug, self-satisfied expression bureaucrats the world over displayed. The thought they all attended the same finishing school crossed his mind.

  For three hours he’d sat impassive and still through a debrief that neared an end. The questions had become repetitive. At the outset, he’d made it clear the urgency needed to rescue Miranda. Their response amounted to indifference. “Of course, Mr. McKenzie. Our reports will assist that process.”

  The middle one finished his note taking, closed the book, and formed a finger steeple. The three froze their faces with plastic, insincere smiles. No question they’d gone to the same finishing school. “Well sir, let me first thank you for patiently enduring our questions. Your answers have been most helpful and will aid us in forming our plans going forward. Unfortunately, we cannot include an outside wild card without a security clearance in those plans. You do understand don’t you, Mr. McKenzie?”

  Janesh gazed at each in turn. Their cold-blooded smiles matched their lizard eyes. He waited for some mention of Miranda’s plight. None came. Very well. Two could play the close-to-the vest game. He’d made no mention of what he’d seen. Janesh rose and turned around for the door. With Duncan and Ronan on either side, he exited.

  He’d left Cambridge with no idea what fate had in store. His biology background secured a low-level position with India’s park service filing forms and reports on its flora and fauna. To his own surprise, the wilderness and his meditative states revealed a natural, instinctive ability to hunt. He’d honed the skill until his ability to track man-eaters gained renown
throughout India as the Mahān Śikārī. With the nation undergoing a capitalist renaissance, hunting allowed him to become an economic price point between supply and demand. Collecting a fee from those who wanted something and those who provided it had made him independently wealthy but he never lost sight of what made it possible. He hunted tigers.

  The ground-floor doors opened to a sunny, tropical paradise. Janesh breathed in the pungent, flower-scented air. Once again an unknown future lay before him. This time he would challenge a silent fate and marshal his skills for one purpose—to hunt a brute and a man. He looked up at the sky. New-found direction brought a certainty. If it saved Miranda’s life, he would give his own.

  CHAPTER 18 A Gathering Storm

  “So that about wraps it up.” Chatur moved the hand cupping his chin to the near empty bottle. Its last dregs half-filled their wine glasses. He and Janesh occupied Table 3 in Chatur’s empty restaurant. He raised his glass. “And so my good friend, once more unto the breach.” Janesh lifted his.

  “Or close the wall up with our English dead!”

  “How many times have I sat in this chair and listened enthralled by your adventures? None ever included two demons.” His expression turned at once sad and grim. His lips thinned. “One holds our dear Miranda. Are you sure your eyes did not play tricks on the other?” Janesh shook his head.

  “Impossible. The dogs saw it too. And detected its scent before they had a visual”

  “What could it possibly be?” Janesh shrugged.

  “Under cover of doing contracted work for the CIA, the physicist Joshua Ang, diverted millions to his own clandestine project. This creature must have been it. It has to be bio-engineered. That means he must have had at least one other collaborator. Ang provided the necessary physics coordinated with the other’s biological expertise.”

  “That’s pretty flimsy.” Janesh nodded.

  “There’s another theory. Professor Akiyama believes it might be an extra-terrestrial.” Chatur shook his head.

  “That’s even flimsier. And a distraction. The priority has to be freeing Miranda from Koh. And if our good friend Koh doesn’t survive the event, all the better.”

  “I agree. I’m just afraid all the unknowns may thwart that very effort.”

  “No plan can account for everything, Janesh, but you have to have one.”

  “You’re right. But we need leverage to free Miranda. The science equipment is key. If we can steal it from Koh we can trade back for her. I could be wrong but right now I’ll bet it’s headed for Singapore where Koh can keep it under tight control. I’ll need local help. Do you have a name?” Chatur did not hesitate.

  “The wondrous and beautiful Jasline Wong. She’s smart, discreet, and very expensive. The farther a project moves into illegality, the more expensive. However, if your timeline is correct, this equipment is still in the Pacific somewhere. You don’t know when, where, or how it will arrive in Singapore. When it does, Koh will move it into his headquarters. Even Jasline will not be able to help you get it out. With all the bodies this equipment has commanded, security will be airtight.”

  Janesh drained his glass. “All true, Chatur. But like a chess game, you only have to think one move deeper than your opponent.”

  CHAPTER 19 Travelin’ Man

  The onrushing motorboat’s roar finally broke Janesh’s concentration. He looked up from reading John Galt’s speech, squinting at the sun’s sharp glare off the water. Distant freighters, queued outside Singapore’s harbor, waited to drop or lade the world’s cargo. Janesh looked once, twice, three times when the craft emerged from the sun’s reflected blaze. A hundred yards away, his boat’s twin raced and bounced over the swells. Behind it, in a pink wetsuit bright as the sunlight, a lithe, athletic figure skied. Air currents streamed her long, raven hair. Across the stern, in equally dazzling pink, the boat’s name matched his—Flamingo.

  It began a long turn swinging the skier in a wide arc. Janesh watched as the window for the boat to slow down or veer off narrowed. If it did neither, the girl would slam broadside into them. He leaped up, prepared to wave the boat off. Duncan and Ronan sensed his anxiety, rose from their torpor. Their twin’s engines deepened their growl as the pilot opened the throttle, dug into the turn. Janesh ripped off his shirt, dropped his pants, and kicked off his deck shoes. If she survived the impact, he’d have to dive in before she drowned. The boat roared past. Its grinning pilot waved. Forty yards out the girl let go the towline, steering her momentum toward his boat’s dive platform. Ten yards out, she tilted the skis up and slowly sank. Clambering up from the stern, she toweled her hair and eyed Janesh with a wry smile. Arms akimbo, the skier looked up at him.

  “I had to come see for myself. So, you’re the Mahān Śikārī.” She gave his physique an appreciative once over. Her smile widened. “Nice shorts.” Sheepish and annoyed, Janesh turned away to retrieve his pants. From the canopied pilothouse, the Vietnamese captain and crew mate gazed down with toothless grins.

  “She good skier.” He’d suspected they spoke English but since picking him up in Indonesia they’d not said much during the twenty-mile trip.

  An old-fashioned atmospheric flight had brought him from Rajiv Gandhi International in Hyderabad, India to Jakarta, Indonesia where an even older prop, long past quaint and well into rickety, flew him to the backwater town Pulau Beng Kalis. He’d noted the two travelers who boarded before the twin-engine continued to their ultimate destination, Pulau Pemping Island twelve miles south of Singapore. Once deplaned, the two surprised him when they whispered, “Follow please, Mr. McKenzie. Jasline Wong sent us.” Until critiquing her skiing prowess, all subsequent communication had occurred via smiles, nods, and hand gestures.

  By the time Janesh pulled his top on, he’d puzzled out the boats. “I take it the two Flamingos is how things not on Singapore arrive undetected.”

  “Quite right, Mr. McKenzie. Singapore is a democratic police state that consistently ranks near the bottom of international human rights rankings. They’re the only ones who complain since great wealth and high employment allows everyone else to remain fat and contented and thus turn a blind eye. It keeps those of us pursuing unconventional careers on our toes. Anyway, it eliminates wasting time transferring things from one boat to the other.”

  “And what exactly is your career?”

  “Defying the authorities. It justifies my high fees.”

  Janesh turned to face her. She finished toweling her hair and extended a hand. “Jasline Wong. Nice to meet you, Mr. McKenzie.” He ignored the almond-eyed beauty’s full breasts bulging through a low-zippered top.

  “Janesh is fine. I prefer a first-name basis when being fleeced by high fees.” She raised an eyebrow and grinned.

  “Speaking of which.” He strode toward his bench and retrieved a clasped bag.

  “It’s unlocked.”

  “I know Chatur well. I’m sure the five million is there.

  “If more is needed it will not be a problem.” She took on a coquettish tone.

  “Oh, did you have something else in mind?” Janesh had no intention of nibbling the bait or embarrassing her. He deliberately misunderstood.

  “Not specifically, but we’ll be dealing with a very powerful man. I need to be prepared for any contingency. I also need to survey the area surrounding Nicholas Koh’s headquarters. How long before we dock?” Jasline turned her gaze outward. The Flamingo had just rounded the island’s southern promontory.

  “About ten minutes. I’ve timed our arrival at the basin to coincide with the return of two sight-seeing cruises. Police will be about but we’ll just be part of a crowd.”

  “And if I am stopped?”

  She smiled at him while pulling out her top to reveal more of one breast. From inside she fished out a thin, plastic-sealed package. “My high fees are for a reason. Inside you’ll find a passport with proper entry visas and permit papers for those two horses you brought. Chatur provided your vital statistics but until you leave Singapor
e you are Bandhu Satya.”

  True to expectations they passed through the boatyard without incident. With Jasline behind the wheel of an American-sized utility vehicle, Singapore’s skyscrapers loomed closer by the minute. “Where am I staying?”

  “I have an apartment in a downtown hi-rise twenty minutes from Nicholas Koh’s headquarters. Despite Singapore’s passionate pet lovers, the dogs will attract less attention in my complex. Everyone will think you’re just my latest boyfriend.”

  “Twenty minutes walking or driving?”

  “Either. It’s an island. Traffic is notorious.”

  Two hours later along streets reminiscent of Manhattan’s canyons without the grit and grime, Janesh turned left to stride past Worldwide Capital’s headquarters. Glorious sunshine sparkled Singapore’s immaculate streets. Except to inured natives, its spectacular modernity provided a constant stream of attention-grabbing imagery. At every opportunity, brilliant landscapers showcased their artistry with soothing gardens and greens. Amid gawking visitors, Janesh slowed to assess his tactical options.

  The structure towered an imposing eighty-one stories. At every intersection traffic control guided vehicles and pedestrians. Around back, armed security guarded a delivery platform. No imagined scenario made a frontal assault feasible. Even if he somehow managed to haul out a few hundred pounds of scientific equipment, Singapore’s aggressive police made escape dubious and arrest probable. Brute force would have to give way to cunning and guile. But that needed time. He closed his eyes. Slowed breaths expanded and collapsed. Disquiet retreated. Miranda might not have much.

  CHAPTER 20 A Lightless Tunnel