Don't Tell the Governor

by Ravi Subramanian

  These vacations were the only way for Pinotti to unwind and he took them quite often – at least thrice a year. They helped him refocus his energies towards Le Da Spire. Over the past few years, he had been to every country in Europe and most of the Latin American ones. He’d been to India too – to Srinagar. But of late, he hadn’t visited Asia, though Goa had been on his list for a long time.

  ‘Darling, we are getting late,’ Kelly called, bringing him back to the present. The ship that was to take them out deep into the archipelago was ready to set sail.

  31

  March 2016

  DELHI

  Pallavi looked through the small peephole and opened the door to the suite. Aditya smiled at her. She looked stunning in her nearly sheer satin nightgown.

  ‘Oh, you’re dressed for bed. I am so sorry. If it is late, we can do this some other time …’ Aditya raised his hand and apologized.

  ‘Oh come on in, Governor,’ Pallavi said as she held him by his raised hand and pulled him inside. ‘Don’t be so formal.’

  Aditya followed as Pallavi turned and sashayed into the room. The satin slid over her velvety body as it moved. He couldn’t but admire her derrière as she walked into the room. She looked perfect. The sight was almost enough to forget the anger from the meeting still bubbling inside him. Almost, but not quite.

  ‘Please make yourself comfortable,’ Pallavi said, pointing towards the sofa in the living room. ‘I will just freshen up and come.’ And she stepped into her bedroom. Aditya could hear the door to the washroom open and shut. He sat down, picked up a magazine lying on the table and flipped through it nervously. He looked around the room, and wondered where Vicky was. It seemed like Pallavi was alone. The idea thrilled him. This would be the first time he would be alone with her. For a fleeting moment, thoughts of what the media would have to report if it got to know of the fact that he was alone in Pallavi Soni’s room post midnight rushed through his mind. But then how would they ever find out? He relaxed and, walking up to the refrigerator, opened it and pulled out a bottle of water.

  ‘Hey, if you’re thirsty, that is definitely not what you should be drinking!’ Pallavi exclaimed, appearing beside him. She had touched up her face and hair. He felt flattered that she’d made the effort for him. She took the bottle of water from him, walked to the bar, and pulled out a bottle of single malt. ‘I read somewhere that you drink only single malt,’ she said and poured him a glass. Handing it to him, she continued, ‘My research on you is impeccable, Aditya. Tell me, am I not right about the single malt?’’

  ‘Well, I’m afraid it isn’t entirely true. I do like it, but I’ll drink pretty much everything.’ He smiled at her. ‘So where is Vicky? Has he gone to sleep?’

  ‘Oh no. Sorry, didn’t I mention it? He had to rush to Mumbai. Some issue with MyBestDeal.com. He needed to meet someone for breakfast tomorrow morning. Left from the reception itself, immediately after you and I ran into each other.’

  Aditya was surprised. The message from Pallavi had come an hour back. So she was alone when she’d asked him to come up to her room. He didn’t know how to react, and he didn’t trust himself around her. He opted for the safest option. ‘Oh, then I must leave. It’s too late for me to be troubling you. We can finish this some other day,’ he said and got up.

  Pallavi pulled him back down on the sofa. Then she got up, poured him a drink and got herself a glass of wine. Aditya noticed that the bottle she was pouring the wine from was half empty. He was sure that she’d been drinking before he’d walked in.

  A few glasses and some forced conversation later, Pallavi suddenly said, ‘You know what I like about you, Aditya?’

  Aditya looked at her and shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. His throat was dry, despite the drinking.

  ‘It is your intellect. Well, you can do with a little more of a sense of humour. But finding someone who is as good-looking as you and also this steeped in intellect, plus holding an office so rich and important is just sheer good fortune. It’s such an irresistable combination. You might be the most handsome RBI Governor this country has ever seen. Hell, you might be the most handsome politician this country has ever seen.’

  ‘I am not a politician,’ Aditya objected.

  ‘Is that really the important part to notice in what I’m saying?’ Pallavi teased and both of them laughed.

  Aditya was beginning to enjoy this.

  ‘You know what, Aditya,’ she continued, as she poured him another peg of Laphroaig whisky. He noticed that it was a larger one than usual. ‘You don’t know how to respond to a woman who is complimenting you.’

  ‘Ah?’ Aditya smiled as he accepted the whisky. ‘And what is one supposed to say?’

  ‘Well, Mr Ignorant,’ Pallavi said as she sat on the sofa, this time a little closer to him, her bare knees touching his legs, ‘when a girl tells you what she likes about you, you are supposed to return the compliment by telling her what you like about her. Unless, of course, you have nothing to say in that regard.’ She frowned. ‘Which can only mean that there is nothing in me that you like.’

  An embarrassed Aditya started fumbling for words. ‘Of course not! It is not like that … who cannot like you? In fact, everything about you is lovable.’

  Pallavi looked at him seductively. ‘Really? Lovable?’ She leaned back on the sofa and her satin gown slid off her shoulder, baring silky skin. She didn’t seem bothered by it.

  ‘Of course,’ Aditya said, his throat drier than ever.

  ‘Well, you don’t show it at all. How am I to know what you’re feeling?’ she asked coyly.

  Aditya could feel the barriers he had built around himself collapsing. She was irresistible; how was he going to stop himself? Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead and he could feel his cheeks burning.

  ‘Why, you are blushing, Aditya!’ Pallavi said and slid closer to him. Aditya didn’t move away. Pallavi leaned towards him, wetting her lips with her tongue. The sight was his undoing. After that, it didn’t take much for their lips to meet. Pallavi closed her eyes and parted her lips. He was taken in by their softness. Feeling her cling to him gave him courage. In no time, his hands were all over her. He held her face in his palms and pulled her towards him.

  And then, suddenly, the doorbell rang. ‘Room service!’

  ‘Damn,’ said Pallavi. At some point during the night, she had ordered ice for Aditya’s whisky. She got up to open the door.

  The interruption had broken the mood and suddenly, Aditya felt his common sense return. He was shaken. By the time Pallavi got back to the sofa, Aditya had gotten up, picked up his jacket and was ready to leave. ‘What happened? Where are you going?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t think it is appropriate, Pallavi,’ Aditya said, avoiding her gaze. ‘We should not be doing this.’

  Pallavi didn’t say anything. She looked embarrassed too. ‘I am sorry,’ she said. ‘But the fault is all yours you know. You and your magnetic personality,’ she joked, but it was a poor attempt at restoring some of the ease between them, and didn’t work.

  ‘It’s fine. I must leave though. It’s very late anyway,’ Aditya said.

  ‘No. Stay.’ Pallavi’s voice was soft and velvety and the insistence in her tone melted him once again.

  As he sat back down on the couch and she slid up to him, the ice was forgotten and so was the whisky. Aditya also forgot that Pallavi was married to Vicky. He forgot that he was taking a massive career risk. All he knew was that he desparately wanted her.

  ₹

  ‘I have never been loved like this in a long time,’ Pallavi confessed as she lay in his arms. Aditya hugged her even more tightly and kissed her softly on her lips. She cuddled up to him, closed her eyes and fell asleep.

  Aditya was wide awake. He had never felt anything like this before. He had been with so many women in the past, but all of them had felt almost transactional. Even with his wife, there had been little emotion involved. With Pallavi, it was different. He could feel
himself connect emotionally with her, and what he was feeling went deeper than just physical desire. Was it possible that he was falling in love with her? He didn’t know. All he knew was that his relationship with Pallavi was not just a superficial one. The attraction he felt was not just sexual. There was more to it. But he also knew that there was no possible way to ask himself those questions and not get hurt.

  32

  March 2016

  MUMBAI

  The troubles at MyBestDeal.com refused to go away. Despite the ₹30-crore loan Vicky and Pallavi had raised, the creditors could not be paid off completely. This was because Vicky Malhotra had diverted a sizable portion of the loan to fund Suyog Gold, as well as his own expensive lifestyle.

  The reason he’d left Pallavi alone in the Taj and flown to Mumbai was because a creditor had sent him a legal notice, threatening to go to the police. This creditor, a supplier of cotton sarees, was reasonably influential and had called upon the good offices of a minister in Gujarat, who had then reached out to someone in the Maharashtra government. Vicky knew that this was one meeting he couldn’t avoid.

  The breakfast meeting with the creditor from Surat was cold, with Vicky already irritated by the fact that the man had used political coercion to wrangle the meeting. After a fair bit of negotiation, he settled by agreeing to pay the creditor 80 per cent of the money due in four installments. For the first of these, he cut out a cheque then and there. As the meeting ended, Vicky realized that while Suyog was taking off, MyBestDeal.com was becoming a liability.

  As he got out of the meeting, he felt restless. He didn’t like being pushed into a corner.

  On his way out of the hotel, he picked up a copy of the Economic Times from the reception. Waiting for the car in the porch of the Grand Hyatt in the Kalina area of Mumbai, he glanced at the headlines and his eyes widened with disbelief. Robert and Bright LLc had been sold. It was not the fact that the company had been sold which shocked him. It was the name of the buyer. ‘Mehul Modi on the prowl. BUYS TIARA GEMS IN UK,’ the headline claimed. Hurriedly, Vicky got into the car and read the entire article. He was surprised that Mehul didn’t check with him even once before buying the company. As an insider, he could have given the man interesting insights which could have helped him negotiate a better deal. He had dealt with that company for a decade.

  Curiosity got the better of him and he dialled Mehul’s number. ‘I’d been waiting and wondering when you would call,’ Mehul said the moment he picked up.

  ‘I couldn’t not congratulate you. Tiara is close to my heart,’ Vicky said.

  ‘I know. It has the Vicky Malhotra stamp all over it. I contemplated calling you earlier, but then let it be,’ he said, without bothering to explain why.

  ‘So how much did you buy it for? The newspaper report is silent on that part.’

  ‘We will leave that for a face-to-face discussion, shall we?’ Mehul said evasively.

  ‘Sure. I understand.’

  ‘I’ve heard that Suyog Gold is killing it. Creating ripples, or rather, waves. I am surprised that a number of me-toos have not sprung up already,’ Mehul said.

  ‘I guess it’s only a matter of time before they do. I need to make sure that I gather the maximum market share and attain dominance before others step in.’ This wasn’t something Vicky hadn’t already thought of.

  ‘You know Vicky, the world is not about averages. It is about extremes.’

  ‘I have never been able to understand you, Mehul.’

  ‘You do. But you refuse to acknowledge it, Vicky. All I meant was that business is not about longevity these days. It is all about maximum returns in minimum time. There is no premium for running a business which is moderately profitable for a long time. Stars are those who make a disproportionate profit in a short period of time.’’

  What Mehul said made sense to Vicky. He knew that he had to scale up Suyog Gold to dramatic levels before anyone else came along and took the market away. Scale builds entry barriers. If his business grew big enough, the size would prevent others from getting in and challenging him.

  ‘Can we meet?’ Vicky asked Mehul. ‘A drink on a day of your choice.’

  ‘How can I say no to you?’

  33

  March 2016

  PATHANKOT

  The insurgency in Kashmir was on the upswing. Partly supported by some anti-social elements among the locals, the militants were beginning to score points over the security forces. Worried by this turn of events, the territorial army was instructed to step up vigilance in the state. They were given a free hand to curtail the freedom with which the insurgents seemed to be acting.

  Major Tarachand Rajput was about to retire for the night, when he got a call on his phone. A team of four militants had ambushed the Pathankot army base. Even though they were a small team, they had strategically cut off power supply to the base and had entered through a stream which flowed through the army base. Given the extreme weather conditions in Pathankot at that point in time, no one had expected militants to enter the army base this way – by swimming under the barricade erected at surface level on top of the stream.

  Major Rajput put on his uniform and got into his jeep. Along with a small team of four jawans, he rushed towards the eastern border of the Pathankot army base, from where the attacks had been first reported.

  The army was having a tough time figuring out where the infiltrators were. Hardly had the Major reached the building that his team came under fire. The firing was coming from a small two-storeyed building which housed an army school. Hurriedly, the team ducked and took cover. A few more vehicles landed on the spot and provided firepower.

  The only saving grace was that the terrorists had been isolated to one building. As the firing from the school persisted, the army Major started wondering why these terrorists, who had taken so much pains to sneak into the heavily guarded army base, would so easily give up their location. Something was not adding up.

  And that’s when it struck him. The firing from the army base was just a distraction – a cover. Immediately, he asked three of his men to come with him and instructed the remaining to continue engaging with the terrorists holed up in the school. Under cover of darkness, he ran with the three officers towards the back of the school. The stream from which the terrorists were said to have entered meandered behind the school as well. In no time, he was behind the school, right next to the stream. And there they were – six sets of water-resistant clothing, discarded right next to the water. So there were six terrorists, not four as they had initially thought.

  On instinct, he followed a trail from the school, which led to the Command Officer’s bungalow. That’s when he saw them – four shadows in army fatigues, heading towards the bungalow.

  ‘There,’ he said, pointing to them.

  ‘Could be some of our men, sir,’ said one of the officers accompanying him.

  ‘When there is firing going on at one end of the base, is there any officer you know who would go in the reverse direction?’ the Major asked.

  ‘We are doing that, sirs’ one of them replied.

  ‘Yes, but under my instruction’. And all those men are carrying automatics. We don’t have those with our cadre in this base. And we don’t normally carry them,’’ Major Rajput pointed out. ‘No, they are not form our side.’ He met his men’s gaze squarely. ‘The moment I give a signal, fire! I will take the chance. And the responsibility,’ he said.

  ‘Sir,’ the three men whispered.

  The team followed the men for another thirty seconds. The moment they were close enough, the Major yelled, ‘Halt!’

  The four shadows turned and opened fire. Rajput Major and his men returned the fire, in which three of the four men died. The fourth man was critically injured and taken to the army hospital.

  By the time the press got wind of everything that had transpired and arrived at the base, the two terrorists holed up in the school building had also been shot dead.

  That night the Major cal
led on the Commanding Officer.

  ‘Well done, Major, you prevented a strike on our army base as well as an embarrassment for the government, the CO said.’

  ‘I just did what I had to, sir,’ the Major responded.

  ‘And do you have any idea who the lone suriving terrorist is?’

  ‘I haven’t had the time to check, sir. We were busy sweeping the base for more accomplices.’

  ‘Major Rajput, you have managed to get us Sajid Mir – one of the biggest catches for the armed forces in recent times.’

  ‘Sajid Mir himself?’ reconfirmed the Major, taken back.

  ‘Yes, Major Rajput. The same Sajid Mir who was responsible for the deadly attack at Lal Chowk in Srinagar, which took the lives of the state Governor and three civilians. Fifteen lakhs, all in counterfeit currency, has been recovered from him, Major. It is one of the biggest victories for the forces in the state. Thank you.’ With that, he walked up to the Major and, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder, added, ‘My family owes their lives to you, Major.’

  Sajid Mir’s capture sent a shiver down the spine of the militants in the valley. He was one of the most vocal and feared terrorists, and had belonged to the Hizbul Mujahideen. While the government was unclear as to why he would come himself to carry out an attack of this nature, the army suspected that he had a much larger intent. The PM was expected to visit the Pathankot army base in a week. This attack was seen as a precursor to an attempt on the PM’s life. Sajid Mir recovered in four weeks and was sent to solitary detention in a jail in Rajasthan.