Authors: Rafael
“I’ll get it.” Narsimha’s mother called out. She reached the door
before it rang again. A regal, statuesque beauty smiled.
“Shrimathi
Parekh?”
“Yes.”
“You
are Narsimha’s mother?” Brow furrows deepened.
“Yes.”
“How very nice to meet you. My name is
Lata
Mansukhani.” Nisha Saha extended a hand then a card. “I am an Executive
Recruiter from Mumbai. May I come in please?”
“Where
are my manners? Yes, yes of course. Come in, please.”She led Nisha into the
parlor and bade her sit. “May I offer you some refreshment?”
“Why
thank you. A glass of water will be fine.”
Nisha
looked about the simple yet cool, comfortable room. From the kitchen a
refrigerator opened then closed. The mother returned accompanied by the male
voice she had heard. He held her card in one hand and extended the other.
“Good
afternoon. I am Narsimha’s father.”
“How
very nice to meet you, Sri Parekh. I am glad you could join us.” The parents
sat stiff, awkward, proud such an urbane, Mumbai sophisticate had come
inquiring after their son. Nisha looked calm, composed, competent.
“Is
there anything wrong,
Kumārī
Mansukhani?”
“Not
at all. I have been at the University trying to find your son. No one seems to
know where he is. I represent an important client wishing to open a satellite
office here in Chandrapur for his engineering firm. Your son’s academic record
and achievements are impressive to say the least. On behalf of our client, my
firm is very much interested in offering him a staff position after he
graduates which will have high visibility with the main office. May I speak
with him? ”
“My
son has developed a lucrative business providing transportation services to
tourists and visiting business people in Chandrapur. To my dismay it often
hinders good attendance.”
“But
he’s a very diligent young man.” the mother quickly added. “It has never
interfered with his studies and I am confident it will not prevent his
graduation.” The father nodded.
“And
it pays for his tuition and expenses.”
“It
makes his academic record all the more impressive.” Nisha soothed. “May I
arrange to speak with him and accompany him to visit us in Mumbai?”
The
nonplussed parents looked at one another and shrugged. “We’re not sure how to
contact him. He’s in the Tadoba Tiger Reserve which has limited communication.
He indicated a very important scientific group had chartered him and he thought
it an excellent career opportunity.”
Nisha’s
expression remained impassive. The well-meaning parents had provided more than
enough information for her to track Narsimha down. The scientific group had to
be the ones Nicholas Koh searched for. If so, Miranda Logan had to be among
them. Find her and she would find Janesh McKenzie.
“Well,
we are a patient company. When next you speak with your son would you inform
him of my visit and urge him to call me at his earliest convenience?” Their
enthusiastic nods indicated they would drag him to Mumbai themselves if
necessary. “I have imposed on your good graces long enough. Thank you so much
for seeing me.” She turned, smiled, and waved to them once more before entering
the car Josh Timson drove.
*
* *
When
the elevator doors opened, Daaruk’s appearance shocked Chatur. Besides the
bandaged head, he appeared wan, weak. Hesitant steps needed a cane. The hand he
extended in greeting had no strength. “My friend. My heart soars you are out
and about but should you be? Have the doctors released you?”
“Ah,
what do the doctors know? They know of medicine but nothing about life. I
cannot heal while my partner lies un-avenged. We must stop this woman, Chatur.
If I am not mistaken, she hunts Janesh.” The two entered the unopened
restaurant and continued to the interior office. Kitchen sounds marked a busy
staff preparing for the day’s clientele. Chatur helped ease Daaruk into a
comfortable chair then placed extra cushions to lean against. “Tell me from
start to finish your conversation with the woman.” Chatur handed him a cup of
tea before taking an opposite chair and relating their exchange as best he
remembered.
Daaruk
sipped his tea, digested the facts. “My department has developed information
from the access logs the factory you rented maintained. One person in
particular constantly came and went. Who is Narsimha Parekh?”
“He
is an engineering student we came to know through Miranda Logan. I believe her
sponsors, the CIA, arranged for him to provide her general transportation when
she first arrived in Chandrapur. He is a brilliant, wonderful young man but not
a CIA operative.”
“Where
is he now?”
“He
accompanied the scientists into the Tadoba Tiger Reserve.” Chatur hesitated
being more specific. He trusted Daaruk but Daaruk worked within a bureaucracy
that had ears on every wall. “With Ekani’s death I thought him the most logical
replacement. They headed for something called Camp G. I have no idea where
exactly that may be. Janesh thought secure isolation would hasten the
scientists’ ability to reassemble the device.”
Daaruk
sipped his tea for some moments. “What does the device do?”
“There
is much conjecture surrounding that question. No one will know for sure until
the device is reassembled.”
“Nonetheless,
the CIA strives to locate it and has a strike team on standby when they do. An
industrialist is also in pursuit and I am convinced is paying this woman to
kill Janesh as an obstacle to his obtaining it. Help me rise, please.”
Once
steadied, he waved off Chatur and made his way to the door. “This woman has no
official existence. The name she placed the reservation under, ‘Nisha Saha’,
appears on no official rosters. In all likelihood it is not her real name. We
traced her payment to an anonymous cash card one can purchase in any
convenience store. Since she has no way of tracing the scientists, Narsimha is
her only link to the device’s whereabouts. Narsimha is my link to her. Thank
you for the tea, Chatur.”
*
* *
“I’ll get it.” Narsimha’s mother called out. She reached the door
before it rang again. Hands shook and her knees threatened to collapse.
Accompanied by two uniformed constables, a man with a thick bandage around his
head stood on her porch. Though standing still a pounding heart left her
breathless. It had to be Narsimha. Something horrible had happened. She didn’t
want to hear it but without air couldn’t call her husband.
Daaruk stepped forward to show his badge but her eyes never left
his mouth, waited for the words that would end her life. He looked over her shoulder
then back again. “You seem alarmed, madam. Is everything in order?” Her lips
quivered.
“Is it my son? Has something horrible happened?”
“Are you Shrimathi
Parekh?”
“Yes.”
she managed weakly.
“Your
son is fine so far as I know.” Hope glimmered. “Has a woman come here inquiring
after him?”
“Yes.”
she smiled brightly. A recruiter from Mumbai wanted to speak with him about a
position with an engineering firm.”
“May
we come in,
Shrimathi
Parekh?”
“Where
are my manners? Of course, please come in.”
Sounds from an adjoining room belonged to a television broadcast.
A man’s voice called out. “Is everything alright, dear? Do you need me for
anything?”
“No it’s okay. I’ll call you if I do.” She smiled at Daaruk. “It’s
some big cricket game between India and Pakistan. You understand don’t you?”
Daaruk nodded.
“I only regret I’m unable to watch it myself.”
She invited him to sit but he shook his head. “We won’t be here
that long. What I want to do is warn you this woman is a fraud, a charlatan.
She seeks to exploit your son for her own personal gain. Can you describe what
she looked like?”
“She was tall, very beautiful, with a regal, aristocratic bearing
although she never acted snobbish or elitist.”
“Did she leave you anything to identify her?”
“Yes. I left it right here by the phone in case Narsimha called.”
Daaruk examined the card knowing it had to be fake.
“Did you call this number, Shrimathi
Parekh?”
“Why,
no. It didn’t occur to me.” Daaruk entered the number in his communicator then
turned the display toward her. It rang twice before a ‘disconnected number’
message flashed. Disappointment raised a hand to her mouth. “And I told her
Narsimha was in the Tadoba Tiger Reserve.” He handed her a card.
“This
is a real one. Please keep it handy. If she comes by again or wants to, call me
immediately. If your son contacts you give him my number and ask him to call
it. Warn him this woman is not whom she appears to be.”
Daaruk
saw no point in alarming a doting mother more than necessary. “We’ll be on our
way,
Shrimathi
Parekh. If you recall something
that might be useful, no matter how innocuous, do not hesitate to call me. Good
day,
Shrimathi
Parekh.”
Before her, dawn’s imminence began to frame individual trees
within the gloomy mass. Surrounded by verdant forest, Nisha rested in a chair
engineered for long-duration flights. She frowned at the dried snot a curious
antelope’s nose had plastered on the Plexiglas bubble. Throughout the clearing,
lightening sky revealed resting herbivores.
Fitful dozes marked the past two hours. Need had compressed the
previous 24 to pressure-packed haste. American and Indian intelligence didn’t
know it but she raced both to locate the scientists and their campsite. CIA
satellites had provided thermal imagery confirming no one occupied Camp G.
Swift consensus concluded Camp J the most likely spot but thereafter progress
fell into bureaucratic quicksand. Indian law prohibited aircraft from flying
over the Reserve. The CIA appealed to the American Ambassador to intervene, the
Indian Congress showed no inclination to cooperate. If Unit 4 wanted to conduct
an operation into Tadoba they would do so without low-flying attack
helicopters.
The in-fighting provided a window for her, with the aid of aerial
maps, to plot a route from Chandrapur to the Reserve. Though the tedious,
painstaking computer entries allowed her to avoid radar and eyewitnesses, the
tension of automated night flight just above the trees, where the slightest
error might create a splattered ink spot, had left her drained by the time she
landed.
Nisha stroked the short-range sniper rifle lying across her lap.
Like always, the phallic symbolism aroused her to anticipate post-assignment
sex. Somewhere an unsuspecting man existed whom she would seduce. Charm and
good looks had become unnecessary bonuses for these encounters as she’d grown
skilled at identifying males whose quiet self-confidence and poise bespoke
fierce endurance. She needed to be ravished and spent, left only with enough
energy to bid them goodbye. A foolish few had returned to discover they had
slept with a tigress not to be trifled with.
Orange tinged the tree tops. Time to go, she thought. A three-mile
trek to the campsite waited. She checked the battery remained on standby to
allow a hasty retreat, patted the ignition key in a pocket, pulled the door
twice, and donned a bush hat before setting off. Once in the trees darkness
returned. She moved quickly through the undergrowth. A form-fitting camouflage
suit prevented snags and its meshed construction kept her cool.
Alert eyes darted about. Bellowing tigers had roamed the night. If
one lurked in the shadows she’d have to scrub this attempt. Gunfire would alert
the camp to her presence. Besides the rifle, an automatic hung from the hip its
barrel strapped to her thigh. A knife sheathed to her boot completed the
armory. She paused to pull out a direction finder without which she’d travel in
circles. Nervousness spiked, brought on by the murky underbrush. The
stick-figure trees spooked her, always had. Without forest experience she felt
out of her element, uncertain of outcome.
The sun had ended dawn by the time she reached the tree line where
she bent on one knee. Ahead five huts formed a circle. Between two she saw men
tinkering around some machinery. A few yards away a red-haired woman sat
leafing through a book. On either side two huge dogs lazed. That had to be
Miranda Logan. Others moved about but after ten minutes no sign of Janesh
McKenzie appeared. A direct, open approach always served to put targets at
ease. If she found McKenzie inside she would shoot him dead without preamble or
warning. If not, patience served the assassin well. She rose and stepped from
the trees.
*
* *
Miranda stopped at a simple vegetable stew over rice she felt well
within her culinary skills. She might have to modify the vegetable contents
based on what they had in store but plenty of time remained before lunch.
“Narsimha, did you fix the two burners on the stove?”
“An hour ago, Kumārī Logan.”
“Hmm, I might have to marry an engineer. You guys are so useful.”
“Oh no, Kumārī Logan. I am unavailable.” Clara walking
by caught the exchange and laughed. The two winked at one another leaving
unexpressed the adorable Narsimha had proved himself a true engineer.
Duncan and Ronan did a slow rise, ridge hairs bristling.
Deep-throated growls rumbled from their chests. Muscles bulged and tensed,
ready to charge. Clara stopped. The men turned around. Miranda followed their
focused stares. From the trees a figure emerged, casually strolling toward
them. Her contoured suit displayed a woman’s figure. Its revealing mesh
construction with camouflage prints placed strategically contrasted the rifle
slung over her shoulder and the pistol hanging from a utility belt around her
narrow waist. What the well-dressed forest girl should be wearing, Miranda
thought, mindful of her shapeless, rumpled khaki outfit.
The dogs’ incessant barking grew ferocious. Miranda rose from her
seat. “Hush, boys.” she frowned at them. “Sit.” Quiet descended over the
clearing. Wordless, everyone watched the woman’s approach. She doffed her bush
hat. Ebony hair bundled tight, even without makeup her arched eyebrows, sharp
cheekbones, strong jaw line expressed undeniable beauty. Dazzling teeth shone
behind full lips. “Hello, camp.”
No one responded, unsure how to greet this woodland nymph, a queen
sent by the forest. “Stay.” Miranda stepped before the group. “Welcome,
stranger. My name is Miranda.”
“Yes, welcome.” echoed the Russian. The woman closed the distance.
Extended a hand to Miranda.
“Good morning. My name is Nisha.” Nisha’s next words stabbed
Miranda. “I’m looking for Janesh McKenzie. Is he here?” Miranda’s eyes
narrowed. She prayed her face didn’t betray shock. It did scramble her
thinking.
“No, he’s not.” She could have kicked herself. The admission
confirmed they knew him. “Is there anything we can help you with?” Nisha’s
smile widened.
“Do you know where he is?” Miranda’s temper ignited. She threw
away any pretense at being warm and accommodating.
“What exactly do you want with him, Nisha?” Clara stepped up
alongside Miranda.
“We’re expecting him but have no idea when he might arrive. Is
there anything we can do?” Nisha stayed in character. Her shoulders slumped.
“Not really. We’re old friends. I’m taking a wildlife survey on
behalf of the Reserve and heard he might be in the area.”
“You’re welcome to join us for lunch.” the Russian chimed in.
Whatever this woman might be, Miranda thought, wildlife surveyor
did not fit. Duncan and Ronan confirmed as much. And what exactly did “old
friends” mean? Better to keep her close until she learned more.
“Yes. Why don’t you join us for lunch?” Nisha gave her a
deliberate look.
“Thank you. I think I will.”
The men took Nisha in tow but broke custom to set up the eating
area a little farther away from the machinery. Clara joined Miranda in the
cooking hut. “What do you think?” she whispered. Miranda shook her head.
“Something doesn’t add up. A wildlife surveyor? She has no
equipment, no charts, no data collector, no assistants. How did she get here?
It’s like she just dropped out of the sky. She’s not even carrying a backpack.”
“And did you see that outfit?” Clara added. ‘Who walks around in
the wilderness half nude?” She began to giggle. “Maybe Janesh is the wildlife
she wants to survey.” Miranda gave her a sharp look. “I’m sorry. That was
uncalled for.”
“No. You’re right. She has something else on her mind and it’s not
surveying.”
The two spooned and ladled everything into serving bowls. Miranda
placed them on trays while Clara gathered plates and silverware. They stepped
outside to find the men providing Nisha lively entertainment.
“So, Dimitrov. What do you do?”
“By day I’m a physicist.” the Russian replied. Nisha arched a
curious eyebrow.
“And by night?”
“A physicist.” Hearty laughter rounded the group as Miranda and
Clara arranged and served the table.
“And you, Nisha? What do you do?” Her eyes twinkled.
“By day I’m a naturalist.” Everyone’s grins widened.
“And by night?”
“Lonely.” Disbelieving guffaws erupted.
Nisha proved herself a charming guest able to more than hold her
own in witty banter and repartee. Lunch turned into an extended affair with
Miranda often hiding smiles at her colleagues’ deft evasions of Nisha’s probes.
Ariel explained their research into negative energy required a place free of
any electronic interference which also explained why they had no communicators
to call Janesh. Everyone maintained matter-of-fact expressions when he gave a
five minute discourse on what amounted to quantum gobbledygook. Clara and Gary
also declared themselves physicists to avoid explaining what role biologists
had in a physics experiment.
She swallowed hard when Nisha turned to her. “And you, Miranda?
Are you the, cook?” Her tone could not disguise the jab. Miranda smiled
sweetly.
“Only occasionally. We have limited research funds. My role is to
prevent our incurring additional fines by keeping the campsite clean.” Nisha
looked around. Turned back with a smile as sweet.
“You clean well. Your colleagues chose wisely.” Miranda returned
the smile. Fought against making it a slap.
“Will you be staying much longer?” Nisha ignored her and turned to
the men.
“If it’s not a terrible imposition, I’d like to stay until
morning. After making this detour it would be such a shame if I left now and
Janesh returned.”
Oblivious as ever to the subtle undertones edging female
interaction, the men agreed. Miranda did not press the issue. She still
suspected undeclared motives behind Nisha’s presence and the extended stay
might reveal them. A one-on-one conversation might prove interesting. And if
Janesh returned, the reunion would prove equally interesting. While preparing
supper Miranda enlisted Clara’s aid in asking the others to beg early bedtimes.
If Nisha suspected Gary might not be a physicist, her probe
backfired when it ignited another lively post-dinner conversation cum tea.
“What is my most interesting quantum paradox? Hmm. Schrödinger’s Cat.”
“Please elaborate.”
“Well, inside a sealed box is a small amount of radioactive
material, a detector, a vial of poisonous gas, and a cat. In any given hour a
radioactive atom might decay or not. If one does, the detector will break the
vial, and the gas will kill the cat. To the world outside the box,
at any
given moment
, the cat might be alive or dead. The quantum world must allow
for both possibilities. Within the sealed box the cat is both dead and alive.
Only when the box is opened does the quantum world resolve the paradox,
collapse into reality, and display either a dead or living cat.”
“But surely, whether I open it or not, if an atom decayed, the cat
is dead.”
“Not in the quantum universe. An atom might not have decayed.”
The debate paused only when Duncan and Ronan rose without warning,
stared into the dark, and despite Miranda’s cries, disappeared. When the last
man retired, the question, like all paradoxes, remained unresolved. Clara rose,
gave Miranda a kiss, and bade both good night.
Eyebrow raised, Nisha locked eyes with Miranda. “Is there
something you wish to discuss?” She had to know McKenzie’s whereabouts. Goading
her might reveal it. Miranda refused to concede the initiative. She let the
silence grow.
“How do you know Janesh?” Nisha smiled.
“A safari to a Tiger Reserve had always intrigued me but I wanted
something more physically challenging than the standard bus and camera tour.
The Tadoba Reserve provided just such an option: a hike into its more remote,
wilder areas. Pure chance placed me in a group the Mahān
Śikārī guided. By day he provided us fascinating insights into
the tiger’s natural habitat and behaviors.” The deceptive ingénue turned to
gaze into the night. A wistful expression became a faraway look. “When we made
camp for the night, he gave me many…passionate moments. When I heard he might
be in Tadoba”, dark, probing eyes returned to Miranda, “I couldn’t resist.”
Miranda burned. She rose slowly from her seat. “You’re a strong
woman, Nisha. Good. It will serve you well. I very much doubt Janesh remembers
every trollop who throws herself at him on safari. I expect you to be gone in
the morning. Sleep well.”
Miranda didn’t. In the dark her imagination wreaked havoc with
sleep. She saw them in every position. Heard her howl with pleasures she had
never experienced. Why couldn’t it be true? Why would Janesh not enjoy a
charming, engaging, intelligent woman, confident of her looks and a body she
took no pains to hide? Exhaustion thrust her into restless sleep where erotic
dreams continued.
When she woke, the skies had lightened but the sun still dawdled.
Duncan and Ronan did not raise their heads to greet her. Outside, the camp
slumbered. She scanned the area and peered into Nisha’s hut. Empty. Near the
tree line, wary of a last-minute hunter, she called their names. The forest
remained mute.