The Brightest Fell

by Nupur Chowdhury

  He smiled, meeting Ruqaiya’s eyes over Rinisa’s shoulder. She gave him a slight nod, her face grim.

  The plan was in motion. And success was the only option.

  As they circled the dance floor, Rinisa stiffened in his arms. “If you think some two-bit nonprofit can take us down–”

  “A two-bit nonprofit and every resource I can bring to bear on this case.” His tone was light, friendly. “Including the prototype Amven samples that you tried to blackmail the Shian girl into stealing from our lab.”

  “What’re you–”

  “I’m a lot of things, Ms. Rayeek. Quite a few of them not very nice. But ‘stupid’ isn’t one of those things.

  “Did you really think you could play us against each other time and time again and we wouldn’t notice? I’ve known for months now, and Rito never had those samples for more than a few minutes.”

  “She said–” Rinisa’s voice was strangled, her eyes wide.

  “She lied. Because I told her to. Something you would’ve realized if you weren’t so cocksure of your own genius.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “And the blood samples from the kids rescued from the La Fantome? The NIA still has those reports.

  “What do you think they’ll find when they match that prototype against those reports? And how reluctant do you think either of the Shians would be, to testify against you in a court of law?”

  “What the hell do you want?” Rinisa gritted out, her voice shrill.

  “I want you to consider, my dear.” He spun her on the spot, then pulled her close. “President Maganti is an influential man. He may or may not escape this little debacle unscathed.

  “But you? I’ll personally see to it that you live to regret the day you decided to cross me. And this little conspiracy of yours? It’ll be the scandal of the century, when news of it is finally exposed.

  “And it’s not like you’re short of enemies, is it?” He smirked. “Hardly surprising, with a personality like that. I’m sure there’re many people in Naijan and Maralana who’d go out of their way to fan those flames until it’s a media firestorm.

  “Tell me, who’ll stand up for you when that happens? Who’ll go out of their way to protect you? It’s not as though you’re popular in Eraon. Personally, I think Afreen would make a far better deputy CM. She’s certainly popular with the masses. And she’s Zanyar, so she’ll be the perfect successor to Henna Sameen.

  “Honestly, I can’t think of a more suitable chief minister for Eraon than her, can you?”

  Rinisa was all but shaking in his arms.

  Jehan bit his lip, looking over at Ruqaiya. She’d better hold up her end of the plan.

  “As for your family’s money,” he continued, remembering to move with the music. “What’s left of it after you’ve settled all the legal fees and paid all your overpriced attorneys will be confiscated to compensate the victims rescued from the La Fantome club.

  “Badal may have protected you from the repercussions of your crimes all these years, but he isn’t here anymore. You saw to that, didn’t you? No more friends in high places, no more political protection to be had.”

  He shook his head in mock sympathy. “And I’ll personally ensure that anyone who tries to help you will be investigated by the NIA and incarcerated the moment we find so much as a single incident of tax evasion. So, how many people do you think would be willing to stick their necks out for your sake?”

  “When Grigori finds out what you’ve–”

  “Maganti?” Jehan laughed, spinning her once again, keeping her off balance. “You really think he’ll help you? Come on, Ms. Rayeek. Even you’re not as stupid as that. He’ll cut you loose and set you adrift the moment you become more of a liability than an asset, and you know that as well as I do. Don’t you remember what happened to Badal?

  “Maganti doesn’t have friends, Rinisa. Can I call you Rinisa?” He frowned, nodded. “I think I’ll call you Rinisa. Well anyway, as I was saying, President Maganti doesn’t have friends. He has tools in his toolbox. And you might be his favorite hammer for the time-being. But that’s the thing about tools, isn’t it?

  “Sooner or later, they get old. They outlive their usefulness. Sooner or later, even your favorites have to be replaced.

  “After all, you should know that better than anyone. You helped him get rid of the last one when it became too squeaky to be useful, didn’t you?” He looked her in the eyes. “You helped him kill Badal.”

  “You’re playing with fire,” Rinisa hissed as the song came to a close, their movements slowing in tandem with the music. “And you’ll get yourself burned.”

  “Funny thing about near death experiences,” Jehan said conversationally, leading Rinisa into a final promenade around the dance floor. “They make you bolder than you ever thought you would be. I had an epiphany, back at the warehouse. Want to know what it was?”

  Rinisa went still, and Jehan smiled. “I realized that the amount of fucks I give about you and your threats…wouldn’t fill a teaspoon. And if it’s the last thing I do on this planet, I’ll see to it that you spend the rest of your life in some dank prison cell in Naijan.”

  He leaned forward, bringing his mouth close to her ear. “If Maganti doesn’t murder you first, that is.”

  As the last strains of the song floated in the air, Jehan let go of Rinisa. A woman in a luxuriant silk dress walked up to him and asked for the next dance.

  He stepped onto the dance floor once again, his new partner talking animatedly at his side. Over her shoulder, Jehan watched Rinisa make a dash for the exit.

  As Sokolov droned on about the importance of political change in democracies, Jehan saw Milli enter the room in a flurry of green and red, her auburn hair loose and windswept.

  That was strange. He hadn’t noticed her leave.

  She approached them with a forced smile and nodded perfunctorily at Sokolov. “I’ll have to steal Mr. Fasih, I’m afraid. This is my favorite song, you see.” She glanced vaguely over at the dance floor. “And I absolutely must request a dance with the new prime minister of Naijan.”

  After Jehan had made elaborate apologies to Sokolov and his friends, she managed to drag him onto the dance floor. Soon, they fell into step, the music relaxing and comfortable.

  Milli looked stressed and unhappy. Jehan was just thoroughly confused.

  “You know,” he said, as they moved in time with the music. “I narrowly escaped being murdered by my bodyguard yesterday. I’d rather not piss him off again by hitting on his sister’s girlfriend. I’ve a very strong feeling I won’t survive his wrath this time around.”

  Milli colored. “I’m-I’m not her girlfriend!” She shook her head and continued. “And-and you shouldn’t hold what happened at the warehouse against Abhijat. He was manipulated. I know Grigori, he’s good at that sort of thing. At-at playing people against each other.” She looked away, breathing hard. “Taking advantage of their weaknesses, their fears and insecurities.”

  “Your loyalty to Rito is heartwarming,” Jehan chuckled. “And believe me, after the way I’ve treated them, I’ve no business holding anything against any of the Shians. If Abhijat had put a bullet in my skull, I’m sure I would’ve deserved it. Richly.

  “Still, the fact remains that I like having a bullet-free skull. And the sooner you tell me whatever it is you want to say, the longer I can keep it that way.”

  “I…you see, my mother has some friends over at the Central Bank–”

  “By friends, I take it you mean spies.”

  Milli pursed her lips, then nodded. “Well, uh, one of them called me and…”

  “And?” Jehan prompted mildly, focusing on their footwork, careful not to look her in the eyes or raise his voice. She looked scared to death already.

  “And, well, Rinisa was at the bank. He said he saw her enter the building in a rush, looking disgruntled and harried. She went directly into the manager’s office. Less than a quarter of an hour later, she left with a small backpack she hadn’t
had when she arrived.” The words tumbled out in a barrage, tripping over each other.

  “And?” Jehan prompted, coaxing. “Did he see which way she was headed?”

  Milli nodded. “He said...” she swallowed. Tried again. “He said she drove off towards the airport.”

  Jehan bit back the stream of expletives that sprung to his lips. “She’s making a run for it.”

  “And taking Grigori’s stock of Amven with her.” Milli’s voice was shaking, her face white.

  Jehan frowned. “You’re sure that’s what it was? She could’ve just taken some money or–”

  Milli shook her head. “There’ve been rumors, for a long time now, that Grigori was stockpiling some kind of drug in various vaults at the Central Bank. That’s why Mamma had her people working there in the first place. To keep an eye on things and report on Grigori’s activities.”

  “Then it’s possible Rinisa had access to that stockpile. And now that the ship is sinking–” He spun Milli around as the music picked up, making her squeal. “She’s making her escape with the treasure, leaving her ‘beloved Grigori’ to drown in the aftermath.

  “I wanted to scare her into doing something stupid, but even I hadn’t expected she’d go this far.”

  “Well, if–if that’s that case,” Milli panted, blushing. “Then we need to go after her. Don’t we?”

  “Of course we do.” Jehan bit his lip. “But it can’t be us, can it? I can’t very well leave this party midway, not for anything less than a seizure. And it’d look pretty odd if you or Madam Ivanovna did, either.”

  “I-I’m sure my mother could send some of her guards to follow Rinisa–”

  Jehan shook his head. “No. No, that’s not an option. For one thing, your mother’s guards won’t have the authority to stop Rinisa if she decides to board a plane and get the hell out of this country, preferably to someplace that doesn’t extradite to either Maralana or Naijan. That’s what I’d do if I were in her place.”

  “But–”

  “And,” Jehan cut her off, holding up a hand. “Rinisa is a master at manipulation. We need someone completely trustworthy. Someone who won’t be swayed by money, sex, or anything else.” He smiled slowly. “Someone who has a personal axe to grind with her, a reason to hate her that supersedes any temptation she might throw at him.”

  They turned as one to look at Abhijat, who was still standing in a shadowy corner near the back of the room, scowling at the world at large.

  The song ended, and Jehan escorted Milli to the bar, signaling for the bartender to give her a drink. “Don’t leave the venue, okay? No matter what. All hell’s going to break loose tonight, and I don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire. Rito will have my head if you get yourself killed.”

  Milli smiled faintly. “I’ll be safe. I promise.”

  Jehan nodded. He braced himself with a deep breath before stealing a glance at Abhijat over his shoulder. “Now wish me luck.”

  Seeing Jehan approach him, Abhijat stiffened.

  Jehan frowned. This was getting annoying.

  “I need a favor,” he said, once he was close enough to be heard. “Something’s happened, and I–” he looked around quickly. “I need your help. It’s urgent.”

  Abhijat’s eyes narrowed, the skepticism evident on his face. “You need my help?”

  Jehan nodded.

  Abhijat sighed. “Okay. What’s this about?”

  “I can’t…I need to talk to you in private.”

  Abhijat looked torn, conflicted. Then, as he looked over Jehan’s shoulder, his eyes narrowed, shoulders stiffening.

  Jehan turned to see a willowy young woman – whom he had last seen hanging from Maganti’s arm – rushing towards them.

  Navigating precariously through the crowded room in six inch heels, she almost crashed into Jehan, looking flushed and slightly tipsy. This prompted Abhijat to insert himself between them, before reaching out to steady the newcomer.

  She giggled, her lashes fluttering, then brushed Abhijat’s hands off her shoulders with murmured apologies.

  “So very clumsy of me. I’m so sorry.” She laughed, breathless, her doe eyes fixed on Jehan. “But, you see, my friends told me it was stupid but…I couldn’t not, you know! It’s been a dream of mine for so long.”

  Abhijat looked baffled and uncomfortable. Jehan raised an eyebrow.

  “I…Mr. Fasih, sir, I’d love to have the next dance with you.” She blushed, then glanced quickly over at the dance floor. “I’ve been a fan of yours for so many years now. I studied biochemistry and pharmacology in college, did you know? All because I wanted to work with you someday. You’ve been such an inspiration to so many poor girls like me–”

  “I, ah, flattering as that is,” Jehan murmured, looking around for a distraction. “I’m afraid I can’t–”

  “But it’s my birthday, today!” she whined, raising her voice so that everyone in the vicinity could hear her. Jehan bit back a curse. She was using his own trick against him. “And-and I asked them to play my favorite song next, just so I could have this dance with you.”

  Her eyes were bright and expressive, her luscious lips pursed in a fetching pout. “Please, Mr. Fasih. If not for me, then for all your young fans in Maralana. For all the young girls who dream of growing up to become a great scientist and leader like you. Won’t you have this dance with me?”

  A moment passed in silence. Jehan could feel eyes on him, the other attendees turning to see what the commotion was about.

  He smiled. “Of course. I’d be honored to. But I’m afraid I’ve already promised this next dance to my dear friend Abhijat.” He wrapped his fingers around Abhijat’s upper arm, causing the latter to go still.

  Ignoring his discomfiture, Jehan continued, his smile growing. “You wouldn’t want me to break a promise, would you my dear?” He stepped closer to Abhijat. “Just one dance. After that,” he cocked his head to one side and favored her with his best lopsided grin. “I’m all yours.”

  Eyes wide, mouth hanging open, the young woman nodded mutely. She looked like she didn’t know what to say.

  That suited Jehan just fine. Without another word, he looped his arm into Abhijat’s and dragged him off towards the dance floor just as the previous song came to a close.

  “Are you trying to cause a scandal?” Abhijat hissed in his ear as they stepped onto the dance floor.

  “Yesterday, you thought I was trying to murder your parents. Today, it’s just a scandal I’m trying to cause.” Jehan pulled Abhijat into position, beaming. “Now that’s what we call progress.”

  The first notes of the new song floated in the air and Abhijat led them awkwardly through the initial steps of the dance.

  Jehan chuckled. “You’re so stiff, they’d think I was making you dance at gunpoint. I spurned that poor girl to dance with you,” he widened his eyes, pitching his voice low. “And this is the best that you can do?”

  Abhijat growled and spun him in place. The move was abrupt and out of sync with the music, but Jehan just threw his head back and laughed.

  He liked riling Abhijat up. Ruqaiya was going to call him on it later, but he couldn’t help himself. The man was just so easy to provoke.

  Perhaps Abhijat should’ve put a bullet in his skull when he had the chance.

  “What do you want from me?” his partner snarled, visibly struggling to keep his voice low.

  “What I want,” Jehan said, falling back into step with Abhijat and ignoring the cameras flashing all around them. “Is irrelevant. What I need–” he twirled deftly, putting himself between Abhijat and a camera that was about to capture his enraged scowl. “Is for you to chase down Rinisa and stop her from leaving the country with President Maganti’s stock of Amven.”

  “What?”

  “What?” Jehan looked up at Abhijat with wide, sincere eyes. “You don’t think I coerced you into this dance just to watch you squirm, do you?”

  Abhijat glared at him. Jehan giggled. “Okay fine. But
that was only sixty percent of my motivation.

  “The other forty stemmed from the fact that Rinisa’s heading for the airport as we speak, along with a backpack full of Amven samples Maganti has managed to accumulate over the years.

  “If she leaves Maralana, it’ll be almost impossible to get her back. And those drugs will be all but lost to us, used for God only knows what purpose in some obscure corner of the world. For all we know, she’ll use them to set up more clubs like La Fantome, in places where we can’t intervene.

  “We need to stop her before she can board a plane out of this country. And I can’t send someone after her who might be bribed or manipulated into letting her get away.”

  Abhijat nodded, his face grim. “I understand.”

  “Off you go then,” Jehan smiled, stepping away. “Just don’t forget you owe me a dance when this is over.”

  Abhijat scowled, then stepped off the dance floor and made a beeline for the doorway.

  Jehan wandered off the dance floor, his eyes scouring the room for Ruqaiya.

  Distracted, he almost ran straight into the young woman he’d left gaping in his wake minutes ago.

  He blinked. “Oh…um. Hey there! Would you like to have that dance now?”

  Her scarlet lips quirked upwards. “I’d love to! But you must be tired, so soon after your last dance. It looked…stressful.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  “You should have a drink, rest a little.” She held up a champagne flute.

  She was carrying another in her left hand, this one half-empty. “And then, of course, we can have that dance you promised me. Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easy.”

  “I’d be disappointed if you did.” He accepted the drink and raised it to his lips.

  Ruqaiya’s agitated voice floated to his ears. He turned around.

  At the other end of the hall, President Maganti stood at the center of a circle composed of Madam Ivanovna, Afreen, Ruqaiya, and Mr. Sokolov. The president was red faced and fuming.

  “Duty calls.” Jehan smiled apologetically at the young woman, before heading towards the unlikely group that had formed near the exit.