by Ruchi Singh
"What are they saying?" Vikram picked up the envelope and placed it on the table. "I'm making a drink. What will you have?"
"The usual. As per the reports they have nothing to go on, but investigations are on. Uday and his team was there and he'll brief us tonight."
Vikram nodded and handed him a glass of Bourbon. "I have a feeling this is something else. Someone who wants to strike in the shadow of the Myanmar deal so that our suspicion is diverted."
"Maybe. But who could it be? Have you unnecessarily needled someone in the recent past?" Nick frowned as Vikram shook his head. "I cannot forget the neatly sliced chameleon at the Golf Club. I'm assigning Jay as chauffeur guard for your car, since I won't be around all the time because of the investigations. I trust him blindly." Nikhil flipped the reports. "And am going to hire one more to travel with you in the car along with the four who follow you. What do you think?"
"I'm in your hands." Vikram shrugged, and fired up his notebook. "Is the reference check for Maria's replacement complete? She'll go on leave in two weeks' time."
"Oh yes, Maria's replacement..." Putting his arms behind his head, Nikhil leaned back on the sofa, a slow smile appearing on his handsome face. "Why didn't I think about it earlier?"
Vikram looked up from his notebook and raised his eyebrows. "What?"
"I think it'll be fantastic. I have a perfect candidate in mind to replace Maria."
"What are you concocting now?" Vikram narrowed his eyes.
"What if we have another armed guard around you, in place of Maria?"
"A guard?"
"Undercover."
"One who will take minutes of the meeting and handle the P&L reports too?"
"Yes, she'll pretend she is taking minutes and handling reports."
"She?"
"She." Nikhil grinned as Vikram scowled. "What do you think about Major Esha Sinha? Will she do?"
"A woman? A bodyguard?"
"Careful, your gender bias is showing, boss." Nikhil grinned. "From what I've heard AND seen..." he winked at Vikram, "I'm quite impressed with her. I have her full details somewhere here..." He lunged to open his briefcase that never left his side and took out a file.
"You have a file on her! You have been thinking about it for quite some time, haven't you?"
"When you were talking business mumbo-jumbo with that fatso in Delhi, I was working. I wanted to recruit someone, so why not a woman? No one will suspect a woman." Nikhil opened a file. "Ah... here it is. She has recently retired from Short Service Commission. She is a crack shot, with a diploma in criminal psychology. She is one of the four women to be selected for the NSG since the time women have been allowed in the army. Though they never send women on a combat mission, she has been posted at the Indian embassy in France, as security aide to our Ambassadress for two years. She'll be a perfect cover."
"Wait a sec... what will she do in my office? What will I do with her?" Vikram spread his hands in the air.
"Looking at the diplomas and certificates in her name, I'm sure she must be intelligent. I'm confident that between the two of you, you'll manage to find a solution. No one will suspect. No one shall know this except the three of us."
"Pretend for sixteen hours in a day?"
"Office hours are about eight to nine hours. Only you work for sixteen hours. Come on... this is for only few months until this blows over."
"You are assuming too much. She may not agree to take up the job."
"I'll give her an irresistible package. Moreover, who will refuse to work with a handsome, rich, and the most eligible bachelor of the century?"
"Don't employ her if she is single."
Nikhil flipped a few pages. "She is single. The more I think, the more I'm convinced about the idea that she is the best fit for the job. We'll forge the MBA degree for her to fit into the PA qualifications. She can be with you on your official meetings, luncheons, and dinners. I suggest we allow her to stay in the outhouse, the studio apartment above mine. And this, my friend..." Nikhil clinked his glass with Vikram's, "... will put you in the league of Gaddafi."
Vikram scoffed as Nikhil dialed a number from the file.
* * * *
Seth Corporate Office, Mumbai
3rd October, 9:00 PM
Uday, Nikhil's friend and Seth's trusted private investigator since ages, entered the office to find Nikhil pouring over the detailed reports he had received from the police, a third time.
"Hey, take a seat," Nikhil said barely looking up from the reports. "Vikram will join us soon, he's on a call. Help yourself." He waved towards the mini-bar behind the credenza as an afterthought.
Uday ignored his invitation for the drink and settled alongside Nikhil with his laptop.
"They found an abandoned white Indica in a mall's basement parking..." Uday began the moment Vikram joined them. Having known each other for a long time, three of them shared an easy camaraderie. "No additional evidence in that car. No hair, no personal item, nothing left behind. He was well suited up."
"What about the car or its owner?" Nikhil asked picking up another report.
"Apparently it was stolen that morning from the office complex at ITO. He knew the car would not be missed for eight hours since the owner worked in the same building. It had been planned well in advance. He knew you would be there primarily because Baggah goes to the golf club every Sunday afternoon. The bastard had done his homework."
"What about the ballistics?" Nikhil asked.
"The shots matched the rifle left behind," Uday said.
"Who could it be?" Vikram paced the room. "I can't think of any incident or business deals where there could be an iota of enmity."
"I would suggest you get your financial records audited for any shareholder who has made a major loss in the past two years," Uday said. "Let's say anyone who has lost more than twenty lakhs."
"Okay."
"And now we need to look closer," Uday said, voicing the inevitable topic. He had his own conclusions since Seth Sr.'s death, but wanted Vikram to think on those lines else it would be difficult to convince him for the next steps.
"What do you mean?" Vikram stared at Uday.
"We need motive. Who will stand to gain from your death? Let's start with Viraj. Last I knew he was not too happy with your grandfather's, and later his father's, will."
"Yeah, Vikram has controlling stake in the business he's managing. Our grandfather had left that stipulation because of Viraj's not so great business acumen." Nikhil sat down beside Uday.
"Viraj is a spineless man. He doesn't have the IQ or resources to plan for such an elaborate attack." Uncomfortable with the thought of casting doubts on his own family members Vikram stood up to make a drink for himself. He knew Uday and Nikhil wouldn't let up until they had dissected each and every member of his family. He couldn't fault them as it was their job, and both were experts in the field.
"Still he needs to be put under surveillance," Uday said.
"Okay."
"Your ex-wife?"
"She doesn't get anything whether I'm alive or dead."
"Revenge could be a powerful motive," Uday said. "Woman scorned... blah, blah..."
Vikram chuckled. "Okay fine. Put her under surveillance too."
"Mr. Jindal?"
"He has enough money of his own," Vikram said.
"Elections do need lots of money on a continuous basis," Nikhil added.
"Aaryan?" Uday asked.
"Oh, come on... you are suspecting an eight-year-old." Vikram threw his hand in the air.
"No, but he is named in your will. Jindal stands to gain even if as a trustee." Nikhil reminded him, "...and the elections are an expensive affair."
"It'll be good if we get him and his affairs under our radar," Uday insisted.
"Fine, do it. But be discreet. And you both need to know, as per my will Jindal doesn't get the authority over my assets. I have divided the power of attorney between Vandana di and my mother." Vikram informed them lighting a cigarette without taking t
heir permission. 'To hell with manners.' He knew what was coming.
Uday sighed to brace himself from the tsunami his next question would invoke, but someone had to bring up the subject. "So what about them?"
Vikram stared at him the way Uday had expected. If possible Vikram's eyes would have drilled holes in his face.
"Money and power are the biggest motives," Uday didn't let up.
"And my mother and sister will hire someone to get me killed when they themselves are rich and powerful enough? Get some perspective, man."
"What's the harm in extra precautions?" Nikhil said.
Vikram slammed the glass down on the table. "They are not to be suspected and put under any kind of surveillance. And that's final." He stood up and stormed out of the room.
Nikhil sighed. "Okay, keep the lid on. In the public's eye we are treating this shooting as an attack on Baggah and not attaching too much importance to it. But we have to find the bastard and nail him down. I'll have a word with IG Police too."
* * * *
October 4th
Suburbs, Mumbai
4th October, 4:00 AM
It had been a long night as a security guard. One of the guards was absent and he had to cover for him too. But he had at least two hours before Sara woke up.
It was time to reassess the events in Delhi and learn from the mistakes. Looking around the room, his gaze locked on the mat below the altar. The strand of hair he had placed under one corner of the mat was at the same position.
Picking up a thin nylon rope with a wire at one end, kept in the corner of the room, he pushed aside the well-worn jute mat. The four two by two feet tiles below lay there undisturbed. Each of the tiles had two rough holes. He threaded the wire in the holes and pulled from the other side, looping the rope in the two holes in the tile. Pulling up the ends of the rope he lifted the tiles one by one, revealing crude steps disappearing below. He kept the tiles on the mat taking care not to make any noise.
Taking out a torch from his backpack, he went down the narrow stairs that broadened as he descended into the small basement. It had been an arduous task to build the basement without raising the neighbors' suspicion. He had dug up the two rooms that ran below his and Sara's rooms after buying the house. The whole exercise took him one full year to get the whole setup as he wanted.
One served as the vault for his arms and surveillance, and the other for his meditation and worship. At the end of the stairs, he lit a gas lamp and stood admiring his prized possessions—the guns and various arms collected over the years—in one of the open cupboards.
This was also a place from where he could see the world.
He switched on the various monitors aligned on one of the walls. One by one, the front and rear sides of Seth's family houses, and offices came alive. The footage was being recorded even in his absence using the portable battery operated system he had indigenously installed, with a backup of three days. He had been able to install the cameras on the buildings that overlooked the Seth properties, so he only knew the comings and goings. But he had full coverage on the Jindal family.
Unzipping the backpack, he took out his day's shopping—parts of the sniper he was going to assemble for his next rendezvous with Mr. Vikramaditya Seth, an electronic part which one of the monitors required, and a couple of hard disks.
It was now time to contemplate the past and think about the next steps.
Taking off his clothes, he cleaned himself the best he could from the water in the pitcher kept in the corner, wrapped a clean saffron dhoti around his legs and loins, and looped the sacred thread, the janeyu, on his shoulder across his chest. Taking a deep breath, he entered the dark, inner room, his spiritual sanctum.
'Om Krim Kaaliaaye Namah...'
In the shadow of the gas lamp behind him, the eyes of the life-sized deity, carved on one of the walls, followed him as he crossed the room and sat in front on a mat. Maa was angry.
Asking for forgiveness, for he had failed her again, he lit the incense and the sacred brass lamp at her feet. The room came alive with the fragrance under the warm glow of yellow flame. The yellow light also revealed the pattern painted on the platform right in the center that matched with the one on his right upper arm. It composed of a central point within five inverted triangles, three circles, and eight petals inside and outside. The whole drawing was then enclosed in a square with four closed doors.
He sat in the lotus position and picked up the knife kept near the platform. Heating the knife in the flame for a few seconds, he pricked at the center of the pattern on his arm with the pointed edge. Blood spurted from the wound. He held his arm over the pattern on the platform. Two drops of blood fell right in the middle. He then placed the knife back and picked up the string with the 108-rudraksh beads. Closing his eyes, he sat back with his fore-finger and thumb joined, his hands resting on his knees. Trying to clear his mind from the chatter of failure, he began reciting the mantra to appease the deity 'Om Krim Kaaliaaye Namah'.
He concentrated on the position of the third-eye on his forehead, the point between his eyebrows, and chanted the words counting on the holy beads on the rudraksh string. Today, he pictured a candle burning right at the center of his inner vision. A long, thick, white wax candle with an ivory silk wick at the center, burned with a bluish-amber petal shaped flame. The black clouds of chaos receded slowly in the warm glow of the candle, guiding him through the dark path that was his life.
Too many people around the target, someone had fallen at the same time he had pulled the trigger. Baggah had stood up. The candle flickered with the blasts of his meandering thoughts. He brought his concentration back on the orange red flame and the thin blue color around the wick of the candle. The flame steadied.
The years of training and preparation had gone waste because of one implausible odd. He would have to start from scratch again. Money would have to be arranged, a venue would have to be researched. Had he fired too early? He loved the Magnum that was customized to his specifications and felt bad that he had to leave it behind. Thinking about the attachments and affections, which he tried to minimize, made the flame flicker dangerously. He concentrated. The flare struggled for life, then finally snuffed out, leaving a thin line of grey smoke drifting up on the dark canvas of his mind. He sighed and tried to reignite the warm flare, but nothing happened.
* * * *
Metro Train, New Delhi
4th October, 9:00 PM
The creep slipped his hand between the two girls again and felt the waist of the one on the right. The girl squirmed and moved her elbow closer to her body. The man straightened in the crowded compartment of the metro, looking in the opposite direction. Esha's jaw clenched, again, and she took a deep breath to relax. She was as angry at the girl for silently suffering the leech, as she was with the scum for taking advantage of the teenager.
As the crowd moved out at the next station, the girl took a few steps away from the man, but the man also moved with the girl. Esha couldn't stand the mixture of fear, helplessness, and embarrassment on the girl's face. As some more of the crowd moved out at the next station, the girl hefted her backpack on her shoulder and turned to throw a hateful look towards the lecher. To Esha's surprise, the man grinned and winked at the girl, who tightened her lips and fixed her gaze on the darkened window. Without the advantage of the packed crowd, the man stayed away from the girl.
Realizing that the worst was over, Esha glanced outside the window, but there was nothing to see except their reflections. It was dark outside. Next stop was Esha's destination. She glanced at the girl, who was also looking at her, fear apparent in her wide eyes. If Esha disembarked, the girl would be alone with the eve-teaser, who was busy nibbling his nails as he studied both of them one by one. He took out his cell phone and spoke to someone in low voice. Was he calling someone else? Esha's conscience didn't allow her to leave the girl alone.
The train slowed as her station approached. Esha stood rooted to her spot as the train doors s
lid shut. She decided she would take an auto back.
As the train stopped at the last station, Esha gestured the girl to walk ahead of her. The man grimaced and rolled his eyes. The platform was long and deserted. If a police guard was posted, there was no sign of him. Esha walked behind the girl.
Another man, in his forties, appeared on the steps going down for the exit, barring their way. The man from the train caught hold of the girl's hand and growled, "Come with me, quietly."
"No..." she whispered, struggling against the grip.
"Leave her," Esha said, loosening her limbs.
"Stay out of this..." The older man by the stairs said, his eyes on the girl.
"I said leave her hand." Esha's tone made the men turn. With a slight menacing smile, the older one gave her a once over with a lingering lecherous glance at her breasts.
"Hey Shanky, this one wants to get laid too."
"Let the girl go." Esha came onto her toes.
"Or what..." The older man took a step closer to her but stopped when another voice growled from behind.
"What's happening here?"
Esha sighed and glanced at Nikhil Mahajan leaning at the nearest platform pillar, watching the whole drama. He straightened and walked towards them to stand beside Esha. Shanky left the girl's arm, who ran and positioned herself behind Esha. She was trembling, but otherwise composed.
"What took you so long?" Esha asked.
Mahajan's eyes widened at her unsurprised response. Grinning, he touched two fingers to his temple. "I'm impressed, Major."
"And who are you?" The older man now stepped back with Shanky falling in line with him, the street belligerence absent in their posture.
Flexing his wrist, Mahajan ignored them and glanced at Esha and the girl. "Shall we go, sweethearts?"
Esha nodded. The duo made no attempt to follow them.
* * * *
A Cafe, New Delhi
