Fury's Goddess. Alex Archer

He clambered down the aisle and slumped back into his seat. “So,” Annja said, not really wanting to know, “was it everything you hoped it would be?”

       Frank frowned. “They don’t make airplane bathrooms all that large, do they?”

       “No, they do not.”

       He sighed. “Stupid cable channels always make it look better than it is in real life.”

       “They’re in the business of selling fantasy.”

       “She never showed, anyway.”

       “But your clothes—”

       Frank held up his hand. “The damn plane banked and I nearly felt into the vacuum toilet. I got blue stuff all over me. So I had to wash it out of my pants.” He sighed. “I’m not exactly a professional when it comes to dry cleaning.”

       “Looks more like you did wet cleaning.”

       “Funny.” Frank grabbed a copy of the in-flight magazine and started fanning himself. “So, you really think this thing isn’t a tiger?”

       “I don’t know. That’s what we’re here to find out.”

       “Where to first?”

       “The hotel,” she said. “I want a shower after flying for so many hours. After a change of clothes and a quick meal, we’ll head downtown and talk to the police.”

       Below them sprawled the city of Hyderabad—gleaming office buildings and brilliantly painted temples. Annja leaned back away from the window and nodded thoughtfully.

       “If the police haven’t gotten anywhere with the case, then we’ll try to find this creature ourselves. And that means going into harm’s way.”

      Chapter 2

      “Customs line is over this way,” Annja said as they made their way down the concourse.

       She presented her passport and visa to the customs official, a stern-looking older man with a bushy beard. His eyes seemed as sharp as a hawk’s and he scanned Annja quickly before eyeballing Frank.

       Annja saw the contempt in his face. He quickly cleared Annja and then frowned as he looked at Frank. “Your papers, please.”

       Frank handed them over and the customs official scanned them. But unlike with Annja, he didn’t hand them back. “What brings you to India?”

       “Huh?” Frank was still fanning his crotch. Annja groaned inwardly. The customs official glanced over his counter and saw the stain on Frank’s pants. When his eyes came back up, Annja saw irritation in them.

       Uh-oh.

       “We hit some turbulence on the plane and I…unfortunately…got a bit wet,” Frank stammered.

       “So it would appear.” But there was nothing friendly in the way he said it. Annja dearly wished for a hole to curl up in until this was over.

       “He’s with me, actually,” she said. She smiled to show how harmless she was. But the official’s frown told her he wasn’t in the mood to be nice.

       “And why are you coming to India?”

       “We’re members of an American television show. We’re here to do some research on a spate of recent crimes in Hyderabad.”

       His eyes narrowed. “Which crimes are you referring to?”

       “The attacks on residents in the new development on the outskirts of the city.”

       “Is that so?” He stared at Frank for what seemed like a very long time. Frank shifted back and forth uncomfortably. Annja willed him to stand still.

       The customs official looked back at her. “And what does this…man do for your television show? Urinate in his pants?”

       “I didn’t urinate on myself,” Frank snapped. Annja winced.

       “I think,” the customs official said, “that perhaps we should talk in another area of the airport.”

       Annja groaned. An interrogation. Great. In the country for all of twenty minutes and we’re already suspected criminals.

       Swell. God knew how long they were going to be treated like would-be terrorists, but Annja guessed it would be some time before they were able to get to their hotel and unwind.

       “That will not be necessary,” said a man with a voice that was deep and rich, like dark chocolate poured over velvet.

       Annja turned and found herself staring into the dark brown eyes of man in a well-tailored three-piece suit. He smiled at her and then his eyes flashed back to the customs officer.

       The effect was immediate. “Of course, sir. I just need to see your paperwork.”

       Without giving the customs officer much in the way of eye contact, the newly arrived man held a sheaf of papers out to him and left them on his counter. “I will take responsibility for these travelers.”

       “Yes, of course, sir.”

       He waved Annja and Frank toward him. “Please follow me.”

       They walked out of the bustling airport and followed him to an idling Mercedes at the curbside.

       Annja stopped him as they approached the car. “What about our bags?”

       He pointed at the trunk. “We took the liberty of collecting them. They’re in the boot.” He indicated the car. “Please, if you would—”

       “Who are you?” Annja crossed her arms. “No offense intended, but I don’t usually get into cars with people I don’t know. Especially in foreign countries.”

       “My name is Inspector Ajay Pradesh.” He flashed a badge. “I am with the Hyderabad City Police Special Investigations Unit.”

       Frank walked past Annja. “Good enough for me.”

       Annja stopped Frank with a hand on his arm. “Let’s try not to get into too much trouble before we know what’s going on here, all right?”

       Frank paused.

       Pradesh seemed to be smiling at her. She frowned. “Would you mind letting me see your badge?”

       “Of course not.” He tossed it to her and she caught it. There was a laminated photo of Pradesh and a hologram overlaid on the identification. It could have been a forgery, but Pradesh seemed genuine enough. Still, old habits were hard to fight and Annja had a few questions before she jumped into a stranger’s car.

       “How did you know we were coming into town?”

       “Your boss in New York called us. Apparently he was concerned that you might have some trouble when you landed.” He glanced quickly at Frank and then back at Annja.

       Frank looked puzzled. “Why would they think that?”

       Pradesh chuckled. “Perhaps this is not the first time you have made a scene in public?”

       Frank glanced down. He sighed. “That Christmas party last year wasn’t my fault. Seriously.”

       Annja shook her head. “I’m tempted to put you on the next plane back to New York.”

       Frank ran his hand through his mop of hair, tousling it wildly. “Please don’t do that, Annja. This is a big assignment for me. If this goes right, it could be a stepping stone to better assignments. You know I can work a camera like no one’s business.”

       Pradesh leaned against the car and folded his arms. “I think there’s a flight bound for the States in another hour.” He winked at Annja. “If that’s really what you want to do.”

       Annja smirked. “Well…”

       Frank fairly dived into the backseat