The Acquaintance Read online

  CHAPTER 35

  Ghazi cursed under his breath as he pulled out the last of his rations. A stale loaf of bread and a stick of butter. He tossed the butter under his desk lamp to thaw it out while he pulled out four slices. The mini-fridge was a power consuming nightmare but it did the job. He had been living at the warehouse for nearly a year. It had been tough going but it had been worth it. He pulled the half-melted stick of butter and lathered it on to the slices of bread like shaving cream. A true pauper’s meal. This was not what he had imagined his last supper would be. He had imagined a feast. Ghazi sighed and bit into his modest sandwich. The life of a servant of god is always that of trial and tribulation. He had learnt that the hard way. He would be saying goodbye to the warehouse soon. The hour of reckoning was fast approaching and he was ready. He was ready to become Shaheed for the cause. But just as soon as the thought crossed his mind, a faint sense of unease seemed to creep up his spine. He was feeling afraid. He shook it off and cursed himself for his weakness.

  These people had taken everything from him. They had destroyed his life. And all for what, so that they could use him for their own benefit? He would watch them burn. He was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to see them suffer while he took the one thing that mattered most to them. Their money.

  But try as he might, he couldn’t shake it. The finality of what was about to happen dawned on him. He would be rewarded beyond his wildest imaginations for his heroic deed. But the voice in his head spoke again. What if the reward was in his imagination? What if Jannat did not exist? He punched the cement wall of the warehouse with all his might and heard a crunch. He called on Allah as agonising pain shot through his limb. He deserved the pain for doubting the word of god and the word of the Mahdi. He hobbled up to his refrigerator to scrape some ice from the freezer. He opened the fridge and paused thinking better of it. He didn’t need to numb the pain, he needed to feel it. As he closed the door to the refrigerator his eyes fell on the small bottles lining the door. His celebratory beverages. Beer, his favourite. He had decided he would taste the sin of Haram just before he completed his task. A sip of celebration. Liquor though haram to him, was the one thing he could not give up. The Maerifa had understood, he had even shared a beer with him. The man was a true saint for he did not judge others for their weaknesses or proclivities. He merely encouraged them to do the work of god. He took another bite off the bread when he heard it. A rhythmic tinny coming from his desk drawer. He pulled out his phone, the number was as familiar to him as his own name. It was the call he had been waiting for. He picked up and put the phone to his ear. He nodded wordlessly as the voice gave him his final instructions. It was time for his celebration.

  CHAPTER 36

  “It was Amina, she saved my life”, said Rizwan trying to sit up. Nargis propped him up gently after she was done fluffing the stack of pillows on his bed. The action had been innocuous but the way Ram was looking at her made it seem like she had done something obscene. She took a step back but Rizwan grabbed her hand. “I would be dead if it weren’t for her. Please find her, she is an innocent child, she’s in this mess because of me. Please Nargis, please don’t let anything happen to her.”

  The pain in his voice broke Nargis’ heart all over again. This was the Rizwan she had fallen in love with. But so much had changed. They had both grown. But here she was once again in the embrace of old habits like nothing had ever happened. Maybe Ram was right. Maybe she wouldn’t be objective where Rizwan was concerned.

  “Tell us everything that happened at the dead drop”, said Ram stepping towards the bed. His expression made it clear that he was in no mood to be trifled with. “Amina and I were in the cafeteria when we were ambushed by these men in masks and Kevlar. I couldn’t do anything, they grabbed Amina and when I tried to stop them, they shot me.”

  “Did they do anything besides grab Amina, did they take anything else?”, said Ram. He was exasperated, it was showing. Nargis was on edge, she had lost her only advantage in finding the bomb. But she couldn’t lose her senses at the drop of a hat like Ram. Though she wanted to. She wanted to give up and collapse on her bed. She wanted to sleep the long weekend away. But she knew she couldn’t do that. She had a job to do. She had to jump in. When it came to memory retrieval, she had learned that finesse was always better than force. “Rizwan, it’s imperative that you try and remember”, she said squeezing his hand. “Close your eyes”, she said, easing him back into the pillows. Rizwan was already doped up on painkillers which would make him all the more amenable. “I need you to unclutter your mind and remember where you were just before we left you.”

  He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He was fighting to remember. “Just relax”, she said in a soothing voice. Ram scoffed. She shot him a dirty look before focussing on Rizwan. “I need you to go to our place”, she said in a silken voice. Our place was the meditative space where Rizwan’s mind was the most peaceful. As a lark back in college, she had used him as a human guinea pig for her hypnotherapy research. He had been quite the sceptical subject. She hadn’t retrieved much at that time except for a word he kept chanting again and again, Maerifa, Maerifa. Nargis had gotten scared and woken him up. She never mentioned it again and he always teased her about the crockpot science of hypnosis. Little did he know that over the years she had gotten quite good at interrogation and memory recall using the science of hypnosis. His breathing had evened out.

  Nargis could see his eyes move rapidly behind his eyelids. He was in REM sleep. Perfect. “Can you hear the sound of my voice?”, said Nargis, her voice like a lullaby. Rizwan nodded. “You’re with Amina at the dead drop. Tell me what you see. He exhaled deeply before responding in a monotonous voice. “I’m on my way to check on Amina.”

  “I see bright white light. I can smell phenyl”, he droned. “

  “She is in the infirmary”, he paused. “She is with someone”, there was a beat of silence that stretched longer than Nargis was comfortable with. “Do you recognise him?”, said NArgis carefully.

  Rizwan smiled like he was seeing an old acquaintance after a long time. “It’s Jogi”, he said, his eyelids fluttering. Nargis sighed, “What else do you see?”

  “I can see white plastic pants and yellow rubber gloves. Jogi is injecting her with something.”

  The GPS tracker. She had asked Jogi to tag the girl with a GPS tracker. However, instead of relief, a feeling of dread flooded through her. She couldn’t dwell on it. She prompted Rizwan to go on.

  “I took Amina to get some ice-cream. She had been a brave girl. She deserved a treat.”

  Rizwan’s body goes slack. Nargis looks at his heart rate monitor. 180/60 bpm, his heart rate was abnormally elevated. But she had to keep going. She had to know if he had seen them doing anything other than kidnap Amina. She places a hand on his chest and whispers in his ear. She can feel Ram’s eyes on her.

  “I see two men, dressed in black riot gear, bullet-proof vests and helmets.”

  “Good. Do you see their faces?”

  “They are wearing ski masks. They are covered from head to foot in black, their eyes are covered with glasses.”

  “What about their hands? Do you see any exposed skin at all?”

  “I see a glint of gold on one of their necks, but that is all.”

  “Well this was a waste of time”, said Ram. His glib tone infuriated Nargis. His self-righteousness was starting to grate. Backwards serial recall was not a perfect science even under the best of conditions. And yet, within the first five minutes she had a way of finding Amina.

  It was around 3:20 pm when Nargis left for the station. So if they attacked soon after she left then it must have been within the hour. And if she was right about Amina’s routine, he would have been having a bowl of cereal as his afternoon snack. She hoped she could guide his recall with this schema.

  “You were in the cafeteria. Eating cereal, yes?” Rizwan smiled as if recollecting a sweet memory. He nodded.

  “Describe the attac
k for me”, said Nargis soothingly.

  “I saw them from a distance”, stuttered Rizwan, struggling to keep the pictures from slipping away.

  “I ran at them but tripped and fell through glass. I collided with one of them and wrestled him to the ground. I kicked and punched him. But he was too strong. I bit his nose and drew blood.”

  Rizwan went pale and his body shivered, “I heard a gunshot and everything was warm.”

  “I heard Amina scream but the other man had her in his arms.”

  “The man with the gold chain was towering over me with his gun levelled at my head.”

  “His glasses have come off. I can see his eyes, Green like opals.”

  “Amina is crying. Begging them not to hurt me. The man is still pointing his gun at me.”

  “I could feel dampness under me.” Rizwan blushed. “I had wet myself.” Nargis heard Ram chuckle.

  “All I could see was the gun. He was going to shoot me. I was going to die. I closed my eyes and called to Allah to save me.”

  “What happened next. Did you see the men go anywhere else inside the facility?”, Rizwan shook his head. “Are you sure?”

  “Both men stood before me. The man with Amina was pointing his gun at the green-eyed man.”

  “What?”, said Ram coming towards the bed. Shit.

  “What happened next?”, said Nargis moving along like she hadn’t been interrupted.

  “I heard a phone ring, the man with Amina spoke briefly. He told the green-eyed man to leave me be. I watched as they left through the front door.”

  I was feeling cold and warm at the same time. I was bleeding. As the door closed behind the men. I crawled to the infirmary and everything went dark.”

  Nargis was flushed, her face was as pale as a sheet but she exhaled an immense sigh of relief.

  Rizwan went slack. Ram was about to say something when the door to their room burst open as Jogi came barging in. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. He was hysterical, “I just heard, are you okay”, he said frantically as he came closer and hugged Nargis. “I thought you were….”, sobbed Jogi, he was shaking. The boy was terrified. Nargis didn’t know how to react to his concern for her well-being, so she gave him an awkward pat on the back. He pulled back and looked at her, there were tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I should have been there. If only I had been watching, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” He looked thoroughly miserable. Nargis put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze, “This is not your fault.” Jogi used the back of his sleeve to wipe the snot from his nose. He nodded. “I have something for you”, he said, pulling out a laptop from his bag. “I was running the algorithm when it pinged on something.” Both Ram and Nargis leaned in. The screen showed a move that resembled a live stock market graph. But the abbreviations at the bottom of the screen did not correspond to any companies but to elements on the periodic table. They couldn’t make out what was on the screen so Jogi explained it to them. “My algorithm ran a trace and was able to pick up an unusually high signature of C4 travelling through Colaba twenty minutes ago. I can’t tell you much more, except that it seems to be headed for the Gateway of India’’, he said. Nargis was on her feet, “Ram, you and Jogi intercept whatever the hell that is. If it indeed is another attempt. I need to know. Stop that car from reaching the Gateway of India.”

  Hospital location close to gateway of india.

  CHAPTER 37

  A testament to colonial British rule. The Gateway of India was a massive basalt arch that served as a ceremonial entrance to the country for foreigners. It was one of the most popular tourist attractions in South Mumbai and just like Chor Bazaar, a very good target. The truck was lurching towards oncoming traffic. Security forces at the gate would have been alerted by now but not much can stop a speeding truck. And Ram wasn’t all that keen on stopping the truck instantly. In his experience inertia was a bitch. He wanted to slow the truck down. The spike belt on the road would not do much in slowing the momentum of the Bharat-Benz truck. It was a full body with a tiltable sleeper cabin. The tarp covering the cabin was flapping in the wind as the truck hurtled on the fresh tar.

  What kind of ordinance would he find in the bed of that truck he wondered? His heart was hammering with exhilaration. It had been a while since he had seen any sort of action. He had been on punishment duty behind a desk ever since he was accused in the Gorakhpur fake encounter case. As if a punishment transfer could have stopped him. They had no evidence of any wrongdoing against him. Except, he remembered that Nargis had a file on that case. He hadn’t looked at it, but he knew it was evidence against him. She had brought it along to blackmail him into doing her bidding. She had never brought it up again. But he decided to talk to her about it, once all of this madness was over.

  This was not how it ended for him, this was merely the second act.

  “If that truck explodes, everything will be out of our control. RAW will take over and we’ll lose any chance we have of finding Shahzad. They’ll shut us down commissioner, I can’t let that happen. We can’t let that truck explode, do you understand. Ms. Hussein’s reputation is at stake”, yelled Jogi from inside the car.

  “I was more worried about the people that would die if that truck exploded but sure, Ms. Hussein’s reputation must also be that important”, replied Ram turning to the analyst. Ever the loyal dog to his mistress. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles had gone white. He was staring at the truck without blinking. He looked like a deer in headlights but he was handling the car exquisitely well. It was almost as if the kid was a stunt driver. Ram smiled at him with an eyebrow raised and Jogi reddened. “I’m just pulling your leg boy, I tend to get a little inappropriate with humour when I have the upper hand.”

  Jogi was still on edge, if the high alert was to be minded. Snipers would take out the driver long before the truck breached the control zone. Nargis needed that driver alive. And the only way to do that would be to stop the truck well before it reached the red zone. This truck was a discontinued model from the nineties so the Advanced Emergency Braking system was out of the question. After the Sweden and Nice truck attacks, many manufacturers had implemented advanced braking systems that would stop a vehicle automatically in the event of a collision but that technology was still a way’s off from coming to India. It was a six-wheeler with a wheelbase of about 6000 mm. The tyres were Goodyear treads, probably tubeless, so the whole shooting of the tyres, might not slow the heavy vehicle down enough to stop it from ramming into the gate. “You’re going to need this….”, said Jogi holding out an MP5 machine pistol. You might have to shred the tyres right off the rim to slow it down. Apparently the analyst had made the same deductions as Ram about the tyres.

  But if any semblance of luck was on their side, it would slow down just enough for Ram to board the bed of the truck. “Once I board I can take the driver from behind”, he grinned. “See inappropriate humour, but always when I have the upper hand.”

  They were right behind the truck, Jogi’s sedan gave them a clean line of sight to take out multiple tyres with a few rounds of ammunition. Ram adjusted his sub-machine gun against his shoulder while Jogi kept the sedan steady. With a light rat tat tat, Ram took out two tyres on the left. The built-in suppressor of the MP5SD barely making any noise. Heckler and Koch against Benz. German Engineering against itself.

  The sudden puncturing dislodged the truck from its lane and sent it careening dangerously towards the divider. The truck would tip-over the second it hit the raised brick of the road divider unless….

  Jogi accelerated and jammed the SUV between the truck bed and the divider. Ram took aim at the wheels on the right and deflated two more. The rubber tore away from the metal rim like flesh off bones. But the truck barely slowed down barrelling towards the monument at a dangerous speed. Ram continued firing, one, two, three four. Finally the truck buckled to within the speed limit decelerating at a steady pace. The SUV was pressed agains
t the truck on the driver’s side, so Jogi fell back. The truck was still in play, moving at a pace that could still cause significant damage as a ram, not to mention if the payload it was carrying detonated.

  Ram pushed open the passenger door and stood up on the lifted footrest. This was insane thought Jogi as he kept the sedan steady behind the truck. He thanked the stars that it was so early in the morning that they had the cover of inky blackness. There weren’t any people on the streets, yet he did spot a few heads pop out of the sidewalk at intervals. The homeless who slept on the streets would notice the speeding truck but he was not concerned about them, it was the fitness freaks who made it a point to be seen on the roads jogging would be an issue. His only solace was that in an era of internet stupidity and viral stunts. The video of Ram balancing on the bonnet of a car trying to board a runaway truck would be dismissed as a thrill-seeking viral video stunt. He hoped that it wouldn’t make it that far. He hoped that they would be able to stop what was about to happen without incident.

  Jogi accelerated slightly and Ram leaped into the bed like a gymnast dismounting the hobby horse. He was in the bed.

  Ram blinked in the darkness, his eyes adjusting to the unnatural void of black. Once accustomed to the darkness, his eyes fell on a sheet that lay over a massive chest. He felt around gingerly for any trip wires or booby traps. He couldn’t find any. He pulled apart the sheets and peered into the wide open box. Nestled in the crate was a crude device. It didn’t look like it was armed. But he couldn’t take that risk, he made his way towards the front where a solitary figure clad in black was trying to get the vehicle under control. He seemed to be struggling. Ram watched as the figure continued to kick at the accelerator but also the brake. He had no idea how to operate a truck. He was struggling with the heavy gear shift. Ram pulled out his service revolver. He stepped forward cautiously. He pointed the gun at the figure. “Stop the truck”, he yelled and the figure screamed. He was clad in a burqa covered from head to foot in black fabric. What a coward. He opened the driver’s side door and tried to jump out, but he had forgotten about his seatbelt which held him firmly to his seat. Ram stepped forward and pulled the hand-brake and shifted the gear to neutral, there was a groaning of gears as the truck slowed down further, he stepped over the struggling figure. He grabbed the drivers leg and pressed it on the brake. He struggled but when Ram put a gun to his face, he obliged. Ram could see his eyes, they were aquiline and feminine, lined with kajal. His eyes then went over the driver’s figure. Oh my god. He pulled off the burqa and almost screamed in surprise as well. Staring at him from the driver’s seat was Amina’s mother, Azhar.