“What’s the plan?” asked the Viceroy, Lord Irwin, looking at the unknown person in the room. A cunning smile appeared on the Commander’s face as he interfered, “The plan is to kill the non-violence movement with violence!” Commander Atkinson was the Viceroy’s secret right hand. He carried out all the dirty work for the Viceroy, getting the job done no matter what. Whatever happened between them always stayed within those four walls. But today was different, the Commander had invited a third person in the room. At first, Sir Irwin hesitated to discuss such matters in front of a stranger but the Commander insisted he should meet the man who’d be sending jitters across the globe!
“When he reaches Dandi, I’ll be there, waiting!” A firm voice echoed in the room. The Viceroy whose gaze was still fixated on the stranger, turned to the commander, “Are you sure about this?”
“Fine,” Lord Irwin said sternly, “I want him dead, if he survives, I’m going to kill you!” The Viceroy walked out of the room leaving the Commander a bit anxious from the warning.
When Mahatma Gandhi started the Salt March from Sabarmati Ashram, only about 50 to 80 people were marching alongside him. Now he was just around 50 miles away from Dandi and there were thousands of Indians marching one step at a time towards freedom!
The Viceroy was furious ever since he received the letter from Gandhiji and was in no mood to allow the march to be successful. His most trusted man, the Commander, came up with the idea to assassinate Gandhiji. The job required a professional, so Atkinson hired the most dangerous assassin on the circuit. Henry Frye has killed hundreds of people and yet nobody knew of his existence. Assassins are often like artists, they don’t think of themselves as killers but skilled professionals. Frye was no different. His skill was killing people with his bare hands! He never needed a weapon to finish the job.
But, how was he gonna assassinate Gandhiji in front of 50 thousand people with his bare hands? Well, that’s exactly why Commander Atkinson had sent the SOS to England and got Frye on the first ship back to India! Henry Frye was not your regular mortal human being, he had supernatural powers. Henry Frye was Atkinson’s dream project. He had put the best scientists from around the world to work, who created this monster who had the strength to knock down a building with one punch and become invisible by injecting a potion made from the meson quark.
Taking out Gandhiji would hamper India’s struggle for freedom, and subdue the rage around the country. So the plan was simple, once Gandhiji entered Dandi, Henry Frye was going to walk up to him and choke him to death! Fifty thousand eyewitnesses and yet nobody would see a thing.
When an artist is working on a masterpiece, they have a certain glow. A glitter in their eyes, they ooze with passion and the smile never fades from their face. Henry Frye had a smirk on his face tonight while he sat in a hut just on the outskirts of Dandi. He was visualising it all. Tomorrow is the day he creates his masterpiece!
With all the thoughts of glory running in his head, Frye started pouring in wine for himself. It was a small hut but it had all the amenities for England’s finest Assassin! The commander had made sure Frye was happy. As Frye was about to take a sip, he heard a horse’s footsteps coming from afar. They got more audible as if someone was approaching his hut. Suddenly, the noise ceased. Maybe someone stopped outside. Bewildered, Frye placed the glass of wine down on the floor. “Who might it be? Who knew he was staying here?” He had multiple thoughts. He moved cautiously towards the door. “Who is it?”
The door smacked open right in his face! Though Frye is strong, the force with which the door was pushed made him collapse to the ground. Frye was startled by the impact. Trying to contemplate what just happened, he looked up! At first, he couldn’t see anyone, but then a small figure started to emerge from the darkness. As the figure approached his door, Frye stood up. After getting hit like that, a normal human might never get back up, but Frye didn’t feel a thing.
The stranger walked inside the room, you could sense the rage in his eyes. Frye might have sensed it and maybe that is why he took a step back. “Who are you?” Asked Frye. The stranger halted near the door. His eyes almost piercing through Frye. “I said, who are you?” Frye confronted angrily. He had never seen someone with such an appearance. That man was wearing a whitish kurta but not a normal one, it had a flared bottom starting from his waistband. It was similar to what the Kings used to wear in the 1600s, an Angarkha! But more than anything, Frye’s gaze was caught by the sword that the man was wielding! It had a long curved blade that looked sharp. Even the mere thought of touching it might have you bleeding. The room lit with oil lamps made the blade dazzle. The hilt is as impressive if not more. The sword seems light due to the ease with which he is wielding it. A reddish stone embedded on the hilt making it look like a thing of art.
“Who sent you here?” Frye asked, now losing his patience. “Speak up or you’ll die!”
The man smirked. “Aren’t you here to kill Gandhiji?” Frye was taken aback by the question. “Did the Commander sent you here?” Only three people knew about the plan. “Nobody sent me here, Frye!” The man exclaimed with an authoritative voice. “I’m here to kill you!”
Henry Frye bursts out laughing. “Whoever you are, you are crazy and funny.” Frye walks towards the unmoved man. “But, I have an early day tomorrow. So…” Frye punches that man in his guts. A punch from Frye usually killed a person. But, to Frye’s amazement, this time it hardly did anything to the man. “WHO ARE YOU?” Frye almost shouted in panic.
The man responds as he placed the sword back in the scabbard.
“Why are you here? How do you know about Gandhi?” Henry Frye has never been so perplexed before.
“I’m here to stop you!” Shiva lands a punch on Frye who is again forced to the ground by the Superhuman strength. Shiva picks him up and throws him on the wall to the left. Frye’s body strength knocks down the wall as he goes through it. Frye gets back up as nothing happened. “Impressive,” he says, “is that all you got!”
Shiva reaches for the hilt of his sword, pulls it out and throws the sword at Frye. The hilt hits Frye’s forehead, Frye flew back in the air and on the ground from the impact. But what surprised Frye even more than the hit was that the sword went back right into Shiva’s hand!
The Sword didn’t look ordinary, and nor is it ordinary. It is the Bhavani Talvar! Yes, the same Bhavani Talvar owned by the great Maratha King, Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj. It’s still unknown as to where Shiva found the sword, but when he did, he was blessed with some superhuman abilities! The Maratha Warrior King was known for his Sharpness and Agility. Shiva had possessed those abilities with the Sword. All his senses were heightened and he could run like a Cheetah!
Perceiving something strange about Shiva, Frye thought it was time to quit playing. He immediately reaches for something in his pocket. He pulls it out and injects himself with the potion, disappearing instantly.
Shiva is still standing there, unabashed. His confidence is charming; how could you be so calm watching a man disappear right in front of your eyes? Henry Frye stealthily, even though he is invisible, walks towards Shiva. Just as he reaches for Shiva’s throat, Shiva pierces the Bhavani Talvar in his stomach. Shiva’s heightened sense of smell and hearing does the trick, it is the reason why he was calm, unmoved. He knew Frye was coming for him. Shiva never left things to chance, so he finished Frye in a way he can never come back. Shiva cut him in half and then set the hut on fire.
Frye was here so that he would assassinate Gandhiji and nobody could see it happening, but got killed while he was invisible. Life is always an irony.
How did Shiva know about Frye’s plan? Maybe someone was spying on the Viceroy or maybe the Bhavani Talvar blessed Shiva with more than we know.
Shiva jumps on his horse’s back, looks back at the burning hut. “Jagdamb,” he says. And rides away.
The next morning Mahatma Gandhi broke the Salt Law!