The Acquaintance Read online

  Good Friday at the Saint Grace orphanage was a muted affair. It was a three-day weekend which meant the school would be more or less deserted. Amina’s mother always picked her up on the weekends.

  It was three minutes past noon. It was a half-day for tenth and twelfth standard students owing to the board exams. According to Rizwan, the woman would wait for Amina at the bus stop opposite the school. Nargis had wondered about renditioning the woman, but she didn’t have enough time. Rizwan had informed them that Azhar had been a young ICARUS recruit who had fallen in love with Shahzad. But once the honeymoon period faded into oblivion. The abuse began. She was beaten like a dog in the streets if she spoke out of turn or looked at Shahzad the wrong way. She was raped day in and day out. She was less Shahzad’s lover and more his sex slave. The only silver lining Nargis could gather from Rizwan’s confession was that she was only touched by Shahzad and no one else. But once she got pregnant. She knew she had to leave. For the sake of the baby. She had approached a young teacher and they had been smuggled into the country over half a decade ago. She was a battered woman on the run. Beaten, broken and brainwashed by the Mahdi himself. Rizwan had told them that she had a way of contacting Shahzad. All they needed was a good enough reason to persuade her to get in touch with Shahzad. The abusive monster she was trying to escape.

  If she turned out to be anything like the other ICARUS apostles she had to deal with in the past, the woman would take a lot longer than three days to break and Nargis did not have that kind of time. The daughter was an inexplicably rare shot of good fortune. Too good to be true. The words continued to ring in her ears. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She heard the final bell ring, which meant school was out. The atmosphere in the van was electric. Every nerve in her body was firing at full potential. The lethargy she had felt earlier from her chemo was diminishing. “Alright Professor, where is she?”, said Ram pointing to the bus stop where a gaggle of girls was standing and giggling like only schoolgirls could. “She’s not here”, said Rizwan. Nargis’ heart stopped. “What do you mean she’s not here?”, said Nargis, turning in her seat to face him. “I mean she’s not here. She was supposed to attend today, but I don’t see her.”

  Nargis scanned the crowd for Amina. She looked at the school records that lay open on her lap. She held up the picture and looked for any student matching the girl in the photo. Five minutes ticked by but no girl matching the photograph came out of the school gates.

  “I told you this guy was jerking us around”, said Ram grabbing Rizwan roughly by the collar. He was about to beat him up when Rizwan yelled, “There she is, I see her. There she is.” Ram clapped a hand around Rizwan’s mouth, stifling his screams. “If you try anything, I swear to Lucifer I’ll break you in half”, said Ram into Rizwan’s ear. Nargis chose not to hear the threat. She was looking at the lone figure that stood below the sign that warned vehicles to slow down in the school zone. She stood a little away from the giggling group. She clearly didn’t fit in. Her clothes were shabby, one of her pig-tails had come undone and her shirt and skirt were stained with what looked like dirt and paint. The girl was either extremely clumsy or she had been bullied. Nargis wondered how it felt to be a girl in an orphanage hiding from her father. What a weird and confusing situation that must be for a child? The gaggle of giggling girls were clearly not residents of the orphanage. They were day scholars, sixteen-seventeen year olds making plans to party. Each of those girls wore their uniforms with a unique flair. Skirts hitched up inches above what was deemed appropriate, their hair pulled back and styled like delinquent models. Some of them pulled out professional make-up kits from their backpacks. Nargis couldn’t believe some of the brands they flouted. Bulgari and Balenciaga. Those kits cost more than her monthly salary. She saw chauffeur driven luxury cars roll by picking them off one-by-one. It was quite clear that the patrons of the saint’s convent considered the orphanage a vestigial attachment. A useless and unnecessary organ that drained their precious money. The children of the orphanage rubbed shoulders with the children of the city’s elite which was always a bone of contention. Being a top school in South Mumbai, it had a crème de la crème of students and parents. The nuns however seemed to give merit high preference over influence and money.

  That Shahzad’s daughter was in Mumbai under Rizwan’s tutelage was a hard pill to swallow. Nargis just couldn’t shake the feeling that Rizwan wasn’t being completely honest with her. The fact that Ram seemed to vocalise the sentiment only seemed to heighten her unease. It was nine past noon. She had less than eighty-three hours. It was now or never.

  She couldn’t spot Azhar anywhere. That was not a good sign. Nargis needed her to witness the supposed crime. Ram and Rizwan got out of the van and made their way towards Amina. Their demeanour was that for old friends having a chat. Rizwan was playing along, which was good. If Rizwan decided to run or warn Amina in any way Ram would take him down before any damage was done. Or at least that’s what she hoped for. Still no Azhar. Nargis was beginning to get nervous. Rizwan had told them that Azhar had chosen the orphanage for a precise reason, there wouldn’t be too many questions asked about a supposed orphan. She had convinced Rizwan to spin a story with the school board that she was Amina’s guardian who could only take her during the weekends. Rizwan had made the arrangement possible. How he had managed to do that or how he had the clout to get a teaching position at such a prestigious school with his shady history was a question for another time. The woman was clearly haunted, she was paranoid and going the extra mile not to be detected by her abusive ex. The same ex Nargis would soon be forcing her into contacting.

  They had reached the girl. Nargis watched as Rizwan bent down and spoke to Amina. Still no Azhar. Shit. Amina was smiling up at Ram who replied with a toothy grin of his own. The girl took both the giant’s hands and began skipping between them towards the van Nargis was watching from. Quite a trusting child. She couldn’t believe it was that easy to pick up a child. But that was an issue for Ram and the rest of the police, not the CTU. She had bigger fish to fry. She glanced at Ram who pushed Rizwan inside but didn’t get in himself. He held Amina by her hand. He looked around. There was no adult in sight. The security guards were busy at the entrance. Students were spilling in and out as buses trundled through the massive gates carrying unruly children of all ages. No one was watching them. It was a nightmare. Nargis was debating whether to leave the child and cut her losses, maybe she could contact Shahzad another way. But she knew that wasn’t an option. This was the only way to find the bomb. It relied on a woman witnessing a kidnapping and informing a terrorist to come to the table and negotiate her release. It was so ridiculous that no author of fiction would touch it with a ten-foot pole. This was clearly an entry for a tome of non-fiction. Fiction had to make sense, non-fiction did not. Fifteen past twelve. She was getting nervous. Ram turned to the girl who was starting to get restless. She was about to abort the mission when she saw it. A woman dressed in a jade niqab crosses the street and makes her way to the bus stop. She was looking for something. She turned to the gaggle of girls who responded to her query with a wave of shrugs. This was their moment. Ram put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “That’s not her”, said Rizwan from the back seat. “She always arrives to pick her up like clockwork. Every second of the weekend with her daughter is precious to Azhar, she would never leave her at the orphanage. Something is wrong.”

  Ram seemed to echo the sentiment. “From what I hear she is an overprotective mother. She doesn’t even let the child have a phone”, Ram told Nargis. Amina was eight years old, she didn’t need a phone. Some would say that the woman was a sensible parent but it just made things harder for Nargis. “Ask her if her mother is coming?”, said Nargis. Ram turned to Amina, “Has mummy ever been late to pick you up?” The girl shook her head. “Maybe she doesn’t know it’s a long weekend. Maybe she’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “She knows it’s a long weekend”, said Rizwan. “The only reason she wouldn’
t be here is if she was dead or……” Nargis didn’t need Rizwan to finish his sentence. The only reason an overprotective mother in hiding would abandon her child was if she was dead or the father of the child had finally tracked her down.

  CHAPTER 22

  “You know we graduate in a couple of months”, said Nargis as she picked up an errant tee shirt laying on the floor. Her room was a mess, with textbooks piled high on the ground next to her desk, while CD cases littered the floor next to her bean bag and the sony disc-player her uncle had gifted her before she started for college. Her collection was an eclectic mix of everything from Kiss to Zakir Hussein. But her favourite band of all time was Queen. Everybody knew We will rock you and Bohemian Rhapsody but her favourite was an unpublished LP from their early works. A singular piece of breath taking music that she carried around in her tool box. Rizwan was lying on her bed reviewing her paper on Psychoanalytic Theory. “Is any of this actually viable as a medical science?”, he said looking up. “What do you mean?”, she said tossing the tee shirt into her laundry basket under the only window in the room.

  “Behavioural analysis, transference, the Freudian personality test I mean this just sounds like quack mumbo-jumbo to me. I mean you do realise that Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung were both frauds right? They just came up with this bullshit so that they could seduce Keira Knightley.”

  Nargis paused, “I think you mean the actors in the movie A dangerous method rather than the actual Freud and Jung.”

  “I mean with all the cats, dogs, donkeys and razors, why can’t people just call out these fake sciences”, said Rizwan in exasperation. “Schrodinger’s cat isn’t a psychological experiment”, corrected Nargis. Pavlov’s dogs, Buridan’s donkey and Occam’s razor were a different story however.

  “I still stand by what I said, I mean most of Freud’s psychobabble was discredited even his mother-fucking complex”, said Rizwan sighing. “I think you mean Oedipal complex”, said Nargis rifling through her notes. “Whatever, all just bull shit to hook people up on narcotics and nothing more. Now narcotics themselves are a beauty of chemistry.” Nargis rolled her eyes. She was about to come back with a witty retort when her eyes fell on the calendar and her blood ran cold. She did the math in her head. This couldn’t be right. She was late. By eight days. She looked at Rizwan lounging on the bed. When was the last time they had been together? She racked her brains. The night of the concert, the night he had proposed. Exactly a week ago. She had taken the morning after pill. Hadn’t she? She wasn’t sure. The entire night had been a haze of happiness. Oh god, she had to get a test to be sure. A college campus was not exactly discreet. She had a paper to submit and an office hours meeting with her Professor.

  “Anyway, I’m off. I have my final practical presentation and I will officially be done with college. Can’t wait to hit the unemployment line after that”, Rizwan waited for her to laugh at his weak joke but Nargis was too preoccupied to comply. “Are you okay?”, Rizwan got off the bed and came to her, taking her into his arms. The warmth of his body drew her into a familiar cocoon of comfort and reassurance. She was over-reacting, there was nothing to worry about. She would get a pregnancy test after her meeting with her Professor and once it came back negative she would plan ahead like nothing had happened. “Talk to me Nargis, you look pale, are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine, just nervous that’s all.” The answer placated Rizwan easily, he was not much for prying. He didn’t exactly care what happened in her life. At times it had been a major bone of contention between them but at times like this it was a blessing. She grabbed her bag and stuffed her papers in it.

  She didn’t remember how her meeting with her Professor went. He had given her a name, told her to look for him at the job fair. She didn’t remember what the name was? She just wanted to get to her room and pee on a stick. She crossed the street to the Chopra pharmacy and ordered a pregnancy kit. She couldn’t even bring up a sassy retort for the male cashier’s judgmental stare. She paid the man and headed back to her dorm room. She ran into the bathroom and closed the door. She waited for what felt like an eternity. Willing the single line of negative to appear on the stick. It was taking too long. And finally at long last, a singular pink line appeared on the stick. Nargis almost cried with relief, but before she could celebrate, a parallel line invaded her happiness. She stopped. She was staring at two lines running along each other. She looked at the box again. The instructions were clear, single line for negative and double lines for positive. Single line meant you were not pregnant, double line meant you were pregnant. She was staring at two lines. Her life was over.

  CHAPTER 23

  “It’s all going to be okay”, said Rizwan as he held the girl to his side. The girl was squished in the backseat between Rizwan and Ram. Nargis observed her through the rear-view mirror. She seemed anxious but controlled. She was not panicking or hyper-active, she was calm and collected. Almost as if she had been trained for a scenario like this. But what kid got trained for a kidnapping? Kids on the run from a monstrous father that’s who. Nargis looked at the mirror again. She would have to give the girl a closer look when they got back. Azhar had failed to pick up Amina, which meant she was either dead or had been taken by Shahzad. Awful as the latter option seemed. Nargis was hoping for it. If Shahzad had her, he was looking to extricate his daughter from the city. All the more reason for him to negotiate. This was blind hope talking. With Nargis’ luck, Amina’s mother was probably dead and of no use to her. She looked at the girl again. And for a moment an intrusive thought sliced through her mind. The thought of adopting Amina herself. Nargis shook the thought away.

  Rizwan sure seemed to have set her at ease. Either that or the girl was a dormant sociopath. Wouldn’t that be something thought of by Nargis as their convoy ran every red light at twenty kilometres over the speed limit. No police van would stop them. All thanks to a slight modification to the blank space where their license plate should be. They arrived at the dead drop in record time, which was still late. Nargis needed to begin negotiations with Mahmoud Shahzad asap. When she stepped out of the car, the ludicrousness of her situation hit her. How the hell was she going to negotiate one on one with one of the most notorious terrorists in history in a rapidly closing window of time. That is if he chose to make contact at all. Mahmoud had killed children before, necessary sacrifices for Jihad had been his credo since day one. It was highly unlikely it had changed since then. Maybe it would change when it came to his daughter. Nargis looked at the girl and a sudden thought made her blood run cold., She was a girl. Amina was a girl. She had made a gamble on a girl. Mahmoud Shahahzad wouldn’t think twice before sacrificing his daughter to the cause. This had been a mistake. But it was too late now. The die had been cast. The girl was in their custody.

  The sky was grey and overcast with shadowy clouds. Perfect spook weather, she thought as she punched in the access code to the front door of the dead drop. She turned around and looked at her entourage. A goody two shoes policeman, an analyst, her husband and the supposed daughter of a terrorist. God help her. She motioned them in as the door swung open. Jogi took the lead, followed by Rizwan, the girl and Ram. She checked her surroundings for any curious onlookers. The lot was deserted, but she could still feel eyes on her. She couldn’t find any, the location was as remote as ever. She felt her hair stand on end. Her intuition was telling her something was wrong but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. You asked for this, she reminded herself. But her heightened paranoia informed her that the eyes watching her weren’t the friendly kind. She watched the sun peek out of the clouds for a brief second before disappearing again. An entire day had passed and she was no closer to the bomb.

  About half a kilometre away, a man clad in black watched as Nargis shut the door behind her. His Bushnell Marine 7x50 binoculars trained on her face. He turned to his partner. “They have the girl”, he said in a sing-song voice laced in anticipation. His partner, the driver of the SUV grunted in disapproval. �
�Don’t get too excited. We have our orders.” The driver gunned the engine and tore off into the distance.

  Inside the dead drop, Ram came up beside Nargis. “There are two guys in the pantry, eating my food”, he said. Nargis smiled, “Alex and Ranveer were here, two of the best babysitters she had worked with, now that she had the girl, a little extra precaution seemed prudent.” She looked at Ram, “They are your new friends, get to know them well.”

  “You sure about this?”, he said without preamble. Never hesitant to voice his doubts and misgivings, Ram had been kicked off many task forces in his heyday. He prided himself on the fact that he wasn’t a team player. Right now, Nargis was beginning to agree with that assessment. Nargis sighed deeply, “If you were me, what would you have done?”

  Ram blinked, he didn’t have an answer. Nargis took advantage of his momentary lapse to walk past him. She reached the security console and told the others to wait outside. “Ram could you please lead Amina to her room?” Ram nodded and reached for the girl who flinched away from his touch and cowered into Rizwan. Ram looked wounded. He scowled at Rizwan. Now that she was in this dark place, the girl’s calm exterior was beginning to crack. Which was not ideal for her. “This way”, said Ram leading the way towards the residential chambers. The girl’s room would be well-furnished. She was not a prisoner. She was merely a means to an end.