by John Pirillo
Inspector Bloodstone woke up that morning with his headache gone, but a gnawing in his stomach that felt like a shark was eating its way from the inside out. "Bloody Hell!" He exclaimed, and then when he saw he was in a hospital bed, he cursed again. "Bloody Hell!"
Constable Evans, who had been seated by his bedside, snoozing in a chair jerked awake and snapped to attention, jumping to his feet.
"Reporting for duty, Inspector!"
Inspector Bloodstone looked at his assistant and the chair he had been seated in, then shook his head, a pleased smile crossing his lips. "Constable, have you spent you entire shift by my bedside?"
"Yes, Sir. I mean Inspector. I have."
"Then you bloody hell better get to work, there's a city that needs saving and stop wasting your time lazing around here!"
Constable Evans gave the Inspector a look of relief. "Yes, sir. I mean, Inspector. Right away."
He rushed from the room, then came back inside. "Inspector, it's six in the morning. I don't go on shift for another three hours yet."
"Then you bloody hell better get cleaned up then."
Constable Evans started to leave again.
Constable Evans turned around, a perplexed look on his face. "Sir?"
"Stop calling me, sir!"
"Yes, Sir. I mean, Inspector."
Constable Evans looked not only perplexed now, but confused as well.
The Inspector smiled warmly. "Call me by my first name."
Constable Evans looked shock. "But no one does that, Sir. I mean..."
The Inspector laughed. "Reginald."
"S..." Constable Evans muffled the word. "Reginald?"
"Are you making fun of my first name, Constable?"
"No sir, but that's my father's first name too."
The Inspector gave him a close look. "Your father?"
"Yes, Inspector. Me Mum told me about him when I became of legal age. She said I had a right to know about the scoundrel."
"Yes, sir. I mean, Inspector. Uh...Reginald. Scoundrel. She said he had a nasty temperament, cold hands and ran off when I was born because of his fears of being a father."
The Inspector's face drained of color.
"Constable, what's your mother's name?"
"Alice, Sir. Alice Greenhaven."
"Oh bloody hell, just when I thought things couldn't get any worse."
"What's wrong, sir?"
"Stop calling me, sir."
A very long pause between them, then. "Son."
"You're my father?"
"And I'm afraid everything she told you was right, except one thing. I never ran off on her. I was sent away on a mission to the India Isles. Top secret by Her Majesty. It took years to complete. I wasn't allow to communicate with anyone in those days. No one of my team was. We were responsible for keeping them from building the first weapon made from the sun."
The Inspector, still weak, slid from his bed, and stood up. Wobbly a moment, then steadied. He walked closer to the Constable. "Had I known I had a son, I would have searched the world for you. I never, never would have abandoned my own flesh and blood. I never looked at another woman since that day. Not one. My deepest regret in my life was to find out that I won one war, but lost the battle for the love of my life."
He came closer to the Constable. "Had I know..."
He began to weep, at first gently, then harder.
Constable Evans moved forward to embrace him. "Father."
The look on his face was both tender and confused, but a kind of satisfaction began to light his face as he held his trembling, weeping father in his arms."
"Son." The Inspector said, then pushed away, wiping at his tears. "Now, we can't have any of the men thinking I'm...you know...or playing favors, so..."
Constable Evans snapped to attention. "Right, sir."
Constable Evans's face brightened like the son. "Father."
The Jungle Lord stood atop the London Bridge, his long hair waving in the breeze. His eyes, as sharp as an eagle's took in the city. What others couldn't possibly see from below, he could see from the heights.
Lady Shareen stood beside him in jungle pants, a knife and pistol at her hips.
"Not a thing. And that's...that's what worries me. I can't even smell it any longer."
"Then perhaps it was destroyed in the battle."
"Not likely." He said, turning to her. He smiled into that face he loved with all his heart and soul and thanked God for all the time he had been given to share with her.
"I think it's gone underground."
"Then you believe what Sherlock intimated. There are more?"
"I do. And not just one." He growled deep in his chest, his nostrils flaring angrily. "I fear we are dealing with a very clever creature."
"Then maybe it is from Mars as was intimated."
"There are creatures just as fearsome and intimidating as those that might exist on another world, my Lady." He said grimly. "And this city is full of them."
She blanched. "You mean it has aligned with the underworld of London."
He nodded. "I fear so. Which means only one thing."
"That it is not inhuman, but..."
"Human." He finished for her. "Which also means."
"That it knows our weak spots."
"All of them!" He admitted.
She shivered then. "Now you're scaring me."
"I fear what we are tracking is not only human, but far in advance of the humanity of today in science, if not conscience."
"How can we defeat something of such ignoble purpose?"
"We shall need friends." He told her, his eyes locked on hers, as if transmitting his thoughts.
"Then I will bring them." She replied, her tone decisive and strong.
"But what if I am too late to bring them back?" She hesitantly spoke.
"Then go back. Seal the borders between the worlds and pray that the force unleashed here doesn't figure out how to go there as well."
She shivered violently again and this time he crushed her to him, brushing his lips against the bouquet of her hair. "You will be safe. That's all that matters."
"But of you. How shall I know if you are safe?"
He gave her a smile that would have terrified a bull ape or dragon.