by Ruchi Singh
But then, what was it about Vikram Seth that pulled her like a nail to a magnet? She slammed the book down. Goddamn!
* * * *
A deserted warehouse, Patparganj, New Delhi
11th October, 11:30 PM
"Aaahh... hhh." Sitting on the chair, the thin man doubled up in pain. "Fuck... fuck," he hissed and struggled against the grip.
The masked man standing behind him gave another twist to his arm and the man on the chair whimpered, tears now flowing freely from one of his swollen eyes. Standing in front of him, Nikhil stared at him blankly from behind his mask.
"Please... Please... I don't know anything. I swear on my dead mother." He pulled in a deep breath and yanked at his captor again.
The dim light from the low wattage bulb hanging from the ceiling threw sinister shadows in the room.
"One word... One name Munna... and you know this pain will end," Nikhil drawled in a low menacing tone pulling on the latex gloves. Munna started to shiver now. "Else you will come to know I am capable of pulling out each of your nails... slowly... till you sing." He brought out a plier from the tool bag on the floor. "And, let me also tell you that this place is soundproof."
"Who are you guys? What have I done?" Munna whispered.
"The good thing is that you haven't done anything so far, so I'm going to let you live, but the bad thing is that if you don't open your gab soon, I'm going to make sure that you beg for death," Nikhil hissed and punched him again.
"Ah... I don't know... aahhh." The aluminum chair clattered against the front wall and Munna landed on his face as Nikhil kicked the chair, blood spurting from Munna's nose. It looked like he had broken a tooth. Munna turned around, his single eye widened in fear, and slowly shifted back to the wall. Nikhil stood ten paces away from him, opening and closing the pliers.
"Listen, we are not the police. No law binds us. We are beyond anyone." The other masked man positioned himself beside Munna and pulled him up.
"A woman... It was a woman's voice over the phone, she called... and she told me to leave the car in the parking!" he wailed, when Nikhil took a step towards him.
"Now you are acting intelligent Munna. Her name?" Nikhil clicked his fingers and Munna jerked in attention. "Quick... good... her name?"
"I don't knoooow!" Munna cried. "I swear I don't know."
"I'm not going to ask again." Nikhil took Munna's hand in his, pried open his fist, and held a nail with the plier.
"Debbie... Debbie... She dances in the dance bar in Mumbai," Munna moaned, "But, don't hurt her... Please don't hurt her! She is just a pawn..."
"How was the payment done?"
"All cash... Delivered at my doorstep in a can of milk. I don't know anything more... Please... Aah... Please, I'm telling you the truth."
"Of course you are..." Releasing his finger from the plier, Nikhil put his mouth near Munna's ear and whispered. "Remember, if you have lied I'll catch you again. You might fool the police but you can't hide from me."
Assured that he had put the fear of the unknown in Munna's mind, Nikhil nodded at his companion. The other man held a wad of chloroform on Munna's face and Munna went limp.
* * * *
October 12th
Seths' Residence, Mumbai
12th October, 7:30 AM
'Waiting.' Esha's stomach went topsy turvy as she read the single word text from Vikram at seven thirty the next morning. It was a Saturday and Esha knew that excusing herself on account of work couldn't save her this time.
Still, she didn't want to be a part of moments that included his private life. But this was one job where there was no space for privacy or the luxury of me-time, and she couldn't hide forever.
She would have to go or Vikram would taunt her again. Well, she had some ideas to make sure that the conversation remained on professional grounds. Unplugging the Bluetooth from the charger, she pushed it in the jacket pocket. The jacket had become a necessity—she felt more confident with the gun close at hand after the evening at Jindal's office.
In the dark of the night, the enclosed premises looked regal. But during the day, the light added to the persona of the old bungalows in Mumbai. With creepers winding over the new age white metal windows, the three-story building was like a bridge between the old and the new generation.
The massive main door was slightly ajar. Esha took the five steps up the patio leisurely and entered. Nikhil had given her the basic layout of the three floors of the house so she knew her way around, but was not prepared for the stark, contemporary décor that looked straight out of a magazine. With three generations living in the house, she had expected ornate glass windows and heavy teak furniture. On the contrary, she found nothing but chrome, steel, and ivory upholstery. It looked elegant yet lifeless, as if no one lived there—a house without a soul.
The muted tinkle of cutlery coming from the left of the living room disabused her of the hope that they would have finished dinner and she would have the dining room to herself.
"Hi! Good morning, Xena." Nikhil spotted her first.
"Good morning. That was quick, Nick. When did you come back?" she asked. Without even scanning the room, she sensed Vikram standing by the window.
"Took the late night flight. Come sit, I've just started. Couldn't resist the methi parathas," Nikhil said, digging into his plate.
Esha nodded and glanced at Vikram. He was wearing a designer Chinese-collar linen shirt over jeans, fit on his lean length and suiting him perfectly. His hair, still wet from the shower, clung to his skull. She knew it would soon fall over his brow by the time breakfast was over. Thankfully, he wasn't smoking.
As she reluctantly brought her gaze to meet his eyes, he smiled and gestured towards the buffet spread on the table parallel to the dining table. With a slight nod, she took a plate from him. He served himself after dutifully waiting for her to fill her plate—like a host would for a guest.
They sat at one end of the dining table that could seat twelve people, with him sitting at the head of the table and Nikhil to his right. After a slight hesitation, she chose the seat on his left keeping her eyes on the plate. Nikhil was busy reading the newspaper, so the responsibility of starting a conversation was left on either Vikram or her.
Esha sighed and started with the topic she had planned to discuss. "I read the Delhi police's investigation reports you had given me, Nick. The sniper left at the golf club was customized. The man, it seems, is a leftie."
"Yeah..."
"Or maybe he had two rifles and was trying to mislead," Esha said.
Both of them stopped eating and glanced at her.
"What about—"
The house bell rang interrupting her chain of thoughts. After a few seconds, the double-door opened and everyone turned towards the intrusion.
"Hey, everyone!" Karisma stood at the entrance in her body-hugging lounge suit, looking like a model out of a magazine. She raised her fine eyebrows as she spotted Esha.
"Hi Karisma, come and have some parathas." Nikhil invited her when Vikram didn't.
"Thanks but no, I don't endorse such heavy stuff early in the morning. I have specifically come to meet you, Nick."
"Aha! A woman with a purpose. Bring it on!"
"I need your permission to go out for an evening with Vikram." Though she spoke to Nikhil, her eyes were on Vikram, who continued eating but observed the proceeding as if he was invisible.
It was hilarious to see Nikhil's expression—for once, words had failed him. He sat there with his mouth open and spoon held midair. Esha bit her cheek and glanced at Vikram who, to her mortification, was looking at her with an intent considering look. Her throat suddenly went dry and the room became silent, as she sensed the two pair of eyes at both of them. She picked up another spoonful of the scrambled eggs from her plate.
Nikhil coughed. "He is a free man, Karisma. You have my blessings."
"I have been given some other signal." Karisma now studied Esha with a penetrating look, thanks to the troub
le-brewer sitting beside her. "We haven't met. Hi, I'm Karisma."
"Esha Sinha."
"Nick, please don't mind, your girlfriend?"
"Alas no! I have been asking her out since we have met. But no, no such luck."
Bemused, Esha couldn't help but look at him. She then sneaked a look at Vikram, who was now scowling at Nikhil and Karisma.
"I think I should be going." Esha stood up trying to end the awkward morning.
"No, no. Please sit, don't get up on my account, and finish your breakfast. Please." Karisma placed one hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her down. "Probably we should make this a double date, maybe then Vikram will find the courage to step out of the house."
"Karisma, don't you think you are being overly dramatic." The hand on the table fisted and the puckered skin of the scar became pink.
"Ah, finally! Finally, I get a reaction from you."
Esha couldn't fathom who was angrier, Vikram or Karisma. They glared at each other. Suddenly, he loosened his fist, smiled and said, "I think double date is a great idea."
Karisma inhaled.
"What do you think, Esha?" He touched Esha's hand on the table, which she withdrew on a split-second reflex. But the damage to her pulse had been done—it took off like a bullet, cutting off the oxygen to her lungs.
"Nick?" Vikram turned to Nikhil as if the idea had come from him.
Nikhil regarded him for a few pregnant seconds, then smiled. "As you wish my friend."
"I'm sorry, I don't want to go," Esha blurted.
"Coward," Vikram whispered, only for her ears.
Esha couldn't understand what he was playing at? He had had a falling out with his girlfriend, okay. But why was he dragging both of them into the mess? Scowling, she glared at Nikhil, who sat smiling, his eyes fixed on his plate.
"But you must. Don't be afraid, I'm with you."
Both men smiled as Karisma uttered the sentence. Oblivious to the undercurrents floating in the room, Karisma continued, "That's settled then. This evening we dine at the restaurant that I choose. I'll convey the venue in an hour. I'm counting on you, Nick." She gave a light hug to Vikram and, after placing an airy kiss on his cheek, she left.
"Well, if it's a free evening, I'd like to make my own plans," Esha announced.
"It's not a free evening. We'll be on duty, Xena," Nikhil corrected.
"No, you will not. You are going to enjoy the evening as my guests," Vikram said.
"Vikram..."
"For god's sake! Call the extra guards, do the sanitization, and then enjoy. Does that meet your approval?"
"If you are so bothered about my work-life balance, why don't you call her here?" Nikhil snapped.
"I don't feel like. Come on, it's just one evening, yaar. When was the last time we shared a beer without any reason?"
Nikhil eventually gave in and nodded.
Esha again felt like an outsider, watching the play-off of genuine concern and affection they had for each other.
"Do you have something suitable to wear for the evening?" Nikhil asked her, as she stood up to go to her room.
"Is there a dress code?"
"Yeah... I mean, you never know. Depends on the restaurant she chooses. I'll let you know once she has decided."
"Thanks for tipping me off," Esha said but groaned silently at the thought of shopping for new clothes.
* * * *
Esha needed a dress.
Nikhil had texted her the name of the restaurant. She used her afternoon off to buy something suitable for the evening, but there was nothing that could be called a dress and could also hide the gun on her person. Everything was either figure hugging, short, or both. A gown was out of the question—she found them too constricting and was not confident that she would be able to do justice to the outfit.
In the end, she settled on a silver-sequined A-line mid-thigh skirt and a plain orange, layered georgette top. The under slip that came with the top had a pocket for holding a phone and some small accessories. Esha figured it was perfect enough for her to slip the gun into. The asymmetrical layers of the top would conceal the bulge and it would make for easier access as well.
The next step was to get the works done in the salon. She endured the two hours of torture, all the while praying to God to let her be born as a man in the next incarnation, in case she had to be born again.
She came back to her apartment and found two boxes kept on the table. Her first thought was to run and ask Nikhil for a bomb scanner, then remembered it wasn't possible for anyone to sneak in a virgin packet inside. She let out a breath of relief and picked up the card attached to one of the boxes.
'For today evening. Hope it meets your specifications.' - VAS
The card fell from her hand. The note sounded literally impersonal, but for her it was as personal and intimate as one could get. No one had gifted her anything in her thirty odd years on Earth. Samar had mentioned buying something for her a few times, but she had refused. Money was always scarce for both of them during the training, and afterwards, it was all over between them.
She tore open the silver wrapping paper on the cardboard box and slowly lifted the cover. The contents in it took her breath away. Nestled inside the tissue was a midnight blue outfit in crepe silk. She lifted the sequined halter neck top and the wrap-around skirt. It was perfect for her height and build. How had he guessed her size so accurately? The skirt even had a pocket that she could use to hide the gun. The outfit, Esha had to admit, was perfect for the evening and checked every item on her list of specifications for the dress.
The other box contained a pair of silver stilettos, the heels a good three inches high. Esha smiled. At least, here he had made a mistake. She would never wear high heels. They were a hindrance in case of an emergency.
* * * *
There was no use procrastinating. Esha had heard Karisma's car driving in. Nikhil had honked twice. They had decided to use the regular protocol of two vehicles along with Vikram's bullet proof BMW.
Esha checked the gun in her pocket, took a deep breath, and descended the stairs. Nikhil stood there holding the passenger door open for her. Boy, he looked handsome. Wearing a grey tuxedo with his hair all sleeked, he was a treat to the feline eyes. He winked as he saw her and checked her out appreciatively. She smiled and slid into the plush front seat. Karisma, who was already seated at the back, greeted her.
"How did you guys meet? I mean Nick and you," Karisma asked.
"In Delhi, mutual acquaintances," Esha replied, glad that she didn't have to look at her.
"Where were you working prior to this job?"
"I was unemployed." For the first time, Esha prayed that for the evening to get over soon. She wasn't disappointed when Vikram came out the next second and both men slid inside the car with Nikhil on the driver's seat and Vikram at the back.
The moment the door closed, the skin on her nape tingled. She was sure he was glaring at her. Making herself small, she shifted towards the window and thanked her stars that Karisma was hell bent on monopolizing Vikram's attention.
The journey was uneventful as they reached the hotel. It was in the lift that that prickling sensation hit her again. Somehow she had ended up standing in front of Vikram. She was sure that if the term burning gaze held any truth, there'd be holes all over her back by now. His shoes touched her flat-soled sandals, but he didn't move back. The ride to the top floor was as draining as the marathon she used to run back at the training camp. Finally, when they reached the floor the restaurant was located on, Vikram and Karisma were escorted inside like celebrities. Nikhil and Esha followed them.
At the table, he didn't include her in the conversation with Nikhil and Karisma, refusing to even acknowledge her presence. Karisma threw smug glances at her, and Nikhil sat with a frown throughout.
She knew Vikram won't like that she didn't wear the outfit he had sent for her, but she never thought he would be so touchy about it. His complete indifference towards her pinched a little, but
she sat observing other diners—her favorite pass time. After the second round of drinks, Vikram took Karisma to the dance floor.
"I don't know what's wrong with him," Nikhil broke into her thoughts.
"Why?"
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed. He has been flirting with you since the time you have come on board, ignoring Karisma. And now refuses to even look at you."
Esha smiled and shrugged.
"To hell with it. Let's dance, my Amazon." He pulled her out of her chair without even waiting for her affirmation. "So, how do you like it here?" He began the conversation after they were in the thick of the crowd, swaying with the music. There was no space for anything else.
"It's okay."
"You don't sound too enthusiastic."
"I sound enthusiastic only on the day my salary gets credited."
Throwing his head back, Nikhil laughed out and hugged her tight. "You are good for all of us, Xena. Life was monochromatic earlier and I feel so relieved with you around him. Jay is good, but he lacks... what do you call it... yes... 'spine'. He gets intimidated by Vikram."
Esha didn't correct him that the only difference between Jay and her was that she was able to hide her nerves. But she didn't want to talk about Vikram so she gave a perfunctory grin and left it at that. The song ended and they went back to their table. Vikram and Karisma were already seated with fresh drinks by their side.
As the band struck the chord for the next song, Vikram came near Esha and extended his hand for the dance. She had no choice but to get up. Boy, was she glad that she was dark and didn't visibly flush! But her whole body singed when he placed his arm around her waist and pulled her to him—close. Her hand on his chest resisted the close contact he had aimed for, but he didn't loosen his hold. Her gaze went from his third button to his eyes, which blankly studied her face. She dropped hers to look around at others over his shoulder.
