Weapon of Vengeance

by Mukul Deva

“But what can we do?” Zahira retreated. “She is adamant.”

  At his wit’s end, the uncle threw the ball at Yusuf in Ramallah. “He is her older brother. Let him decide.”

  Yusuf’s decision came hard and fast. “There is no way in hell you are going to continue seeing him!” he screamed at Rehana on the phone.

  He should have known better.

  * * *

  When his parents came to know, the reaction was equally predictable.

  “She is not a Sikh?” His grandmother, who held sway over family matters, raised an aristocratic eyebrow. Despite her age, it took a brave man to stand up to her. Those raised eyebrows and her cold, derisive smile were generally enough to send people scooting for cover. She had that aura.

  “She is Arab,” Ravinder’s father, the head of a small princedom in India’s northern state of Punjab, who had just spent an hour reciting the sordid tale, reiterated patiently. “From Palestine.”

  “A Muslim?” Ravinder’s mother, whose hot Punjabi blood would often surge past the wall of royal snobbery, wrung her hands in despair. “How could he do this to us? What will people say?”

  An expression of disgust crossed his grandmother’s face. That was about as far as she would go to respond to her daughter-in-law’s plebian display of emotions. Till this day, she had never forgiven her late husband for having picked her as a bride for their eldest son.

  “Maybe he is just sowing his wild oats.” The grandmother sounded more hopeful than convinced. She had sensed the steel in the polite, well-mannered Ravinder.

  But they were all shocked out of their wits when they learned that Ravinder was not just sowing wild oats; he was planting royal seeds as well.

  * * *

  “I think it was the resistance we met from both families which decided things for us. No, don’t get me wrong, Ruby. We did love each other. I am … was … madly in love with her. For me, the sun rose when she did and set when she slept.”

  Ruby saw his face and voice go soft again; she had seen that happen every time he mentioned Rehana.

  Could it be that even now he is still in love?… The thought was uncomfortable. Ruby pushed it away. That would rock the foundations of her mission. Unthinkable. Ruby could not allow it to even come close to her. Ruby could not remember a single day, not since she was a teenager, when Rehana had not reminded her of her purpose in life. You will be the one to avenge us … to avenge all these years of injustice we Palestinians have suffered.

  “You see, the family resistance simply crystallized things.” Unaware of her turmoil, Ravinder continued. “We ran away to Birmingham and got married.”

  “Why Birmingham, of all places?”

  “I had friends and relatives there.” He gave a sheepish smile. “You see, when I told my parents I was going to marry Rehana, they cut me off without a dime and I still was studying.” He shrugged, somewhat sheepishly.

  “You did not think about getting a job?”

  “Nope. I was too used to the royal thing back then.” They both laughed. “Yes, those were mad, mad days. But I would go through it all over again if—” He broke off, and it was a while before he resumed. “Rehana looked so gorgeous that day, bedecked in bridal finery. I tell you, Ruby, it felt as though we were living in a fairy tale.”

  “Dad!” a sharp cry intruded on them. “Da—ad!” A second one sounded more exasperated.

  Ruby looked up to see a young woman come toward them. She was about five feet four, with a figure that might have compelled a priest to kick holes in church windows. Dressed in black pants and a white shirt, the typical attire of law students in many Indian colleges. She had clear skin unblemished by makeup. She doesn’t need it, Ruby thought enviously.

  Ravinder spotted apprehension writ large on the girl’s face. He knew that Simran must have briefed Jasmine on the phone. He felt a chasm opening up between them and moved forward to close it. “Jasmine, how are you, kid?”

  She did not reply, but sailed into his arms and buried her face in his chest. Ravinder held her close, willing her turmoil to seep into him.

  “Mom called me,” Jasmine whispered. “I want you to know it is okay with me.… I understand.”

  Ravinder felt a pulse of love throb through him. He held her shoulders and pulled her away, wanting to look at her, wanting her to look at him, needing her to know that nothing had changed between them. He became aware that Ruby was watching them closely … cautiously.

  “Jasmine, I would like you to meet Ruby. Your half … your elder sister.”

  Jasmine stayed close, clutching his hand. Turning to Ruby, she smiled; a tentative smile. Suddenly Ruby realized, for some reason she could not yet fathom, that it was important for Jasmine to accept … no, to like her. Ruby gave her warmest, most reassuring smile and extended her right hand.

  “Hi, Jasmine.” She paused. “I hope we can be friends.” She heard a nervous plea in her voice.

  Jasmine’s smile broadened. Brushing aside Ruby’s extended hand, she reached out with open arms. Ruby felt a lump in her throat as the younger girl hugged her.

  “Of course we can,” Jasmine said. “We share our father … the same family name.… Nothing can take that away from either of us.”

  Ruby now could not trust herself to speak. She felt overwhelmed.

  Watching them from across the table, Ravinder too was shaken. He was about to speak when his mobile trilled to life. Reluctantly, he reached for it.

  “Sir.” Mohite sounded excited, really excited. “It is me … Govind.”

  “Go on, Mohite. What is it?”

  “I think you’d better get here … to the office … right away. I think we have just had a major breakthrough.”

  “Tell me what happened, Mohite.”

  “I just got a call from Thakur sahib. Apparently, the Israeli team managed to get hold of Saeed Anwar.”

  “That’s fantastic. Where is he now?” Ravinder masked his dismay, that Thakur was again bypassing him. He stepped away, moving out of earshot.

  “Dead as far as I know, but the important thing is that Anwar confirmed that it was Pasha who financed the strike on Jerusalem. He also confirmed that Pasha has hired a British mercenary … a woman to carry out a strike in Delhi.”

  “How do we know that?”

  “Easy, because Pasha had asked Anwar to alert one of their money men here to be ready to hand over cash to the mercenary when she contacted him.”

  “What is the target?”

  “Anwar did not know that. I assume it’s the summit.” Mohite’s voice now lost some of its shine. “Could be the games too, though,” he added, playing it safe.

  “I see. Excellent. Put a surveillance team on this financier immediately.”

  “I am doing that right away. I messaged Peled and he has e-mailed the name and details of this guy to both of us.”

  “Fantastic. Good work, Govind. I have yet to check my mail.”

  “Well, I have done so and activated a team to watch the guy. We may be able to catch them both red-handed.”

  “Not may, Govind. We have to. We have to catch the mercenary when she meets him.”

  “I agree, sir. That is why I was asking if you want to come down and brief the team. Though I am going to personally supervise this operation.”

  Ravinder realized that Mohite wanted him involved so that he could pass on the blame if things fell apart. Well, so be it. He sighed. “Hang on. I am coming right away.”

  “Good. I also wanted to know if we should preemptively start rounding up single British women in the capital.”

  “Are you nuts, Mohite? Do you know how many there would be, with the games about to start?” Ravinder couldn’t believe him. “The Brits will blow a bloody gasket if we pull stunts like this.”

  “Well—”

  “Hang on, Mohite. I will be right over. Brief the surveillance team, but don’t start anything else.”

  Pressing the red END CALL button, Ravinder threw a quick look at the girls. “I have to
go to the office.… Something important has come up.” He paused, concerned how Ruby would feel about being left alone. And there still was so much that he had to tell her.… They had a lifetime to catch up on.

  “Don’t worry about Ruby, Dad.” Jasmine sensed his worry and jumped right in. “I will take good care of her.”

  Ravinder blew her a proud kiss and rushed toward his car. Perhaps they would blunt this terror attack before it got off the ground.

  As his car nosed out of the bungalow and into the cacophonic Delhi traffic, he was pondering the impact of what Mohite had reported … on the Commonwealth Games and the peace summit.

  What is the British woman’s target? The games or the summit? And from where will the strike come? When? How? Is she alone? Or are there others with her? Is she the one Nanda mentioned? Where is she right now?

  * * *

  There was silence between the two girls for a while after Ravinder left. Ruby was perplexed by this family that she suddenly found herself immersed in.

  “Would you like to go out for dinner with me?” Jasmine was giving her an expectant smile.

  “Sure. That would be wonderful.” She smiled back. “It is very sweet of you to—”

  “Nonsense.” Jasmine cut her off. “I have never had a sister to go out with … till now.” She broke off, suddenly embarrassed. Ruby reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. Jasmine asked, “Would you like to settle down first? Come, let me show you to your room.” Still hanging on to Ruby’s hand, Jasmine led her inside.

  Neither noticed Simran watching from the kitchen door as they crossed the living room and went up the stairs. She was still holding the kitchen knife she was using to slice sausages when she had heard the girls come in and stepped up to watch them. Her fingers were wrapped so tightly around the hilt that they had begun to hurt. But she was oblivious of the pain.

  * * *

  Ruby was ready when Jasmine walked into the guest bedroom. The younger woman was wearing a mauve silk sari with a black border and a black blouse. The sari was slung low, low enough to display a slim, fetching waist. Her tiny sleeveless blouse made the best of her small breasts. She also had a diamond pendant held close to her long neck by an almost invisible golden chain. Matching diamond earrings sparkled in her ears.

  “My! You are certainly dressed to kill.” Ruby gave an approving smile. She felt her own black and red dress looked dowdy in comparison.

  “I don’t usually wear saris … in fact I just learned to wear one,” Jasmine giggled, “but I thought tonight should be special. After all, how often does one go out with a sister one has never met before?”

  “Very true. Not often.” Both smiled.

  “Say! Why don’t you wear a sari too?” Jasmine cocked her head to one side and studied Ruby. “That dress is lovely, but won’t it be fun for both of us to wear saris?”

  Ruby laughed, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t be able to put one on or hold it up for—”

  “Don’t worry. I will tie it for you.” She said excitedly, “What fun! Come, let’s do that.” Grabbing Ruby’s hand, she led the way to her bedroom, down the corridor. Her excitement attracting Ruby, pushing everything else aside. Suddenly they were just two young girls … sisters … out to have fun.

  Half an hour later, Jasmine stood back and surveyed the result of her effort. “You look gorgeous.”

  And Ruby did. The deep blue Kanjivaram sari with a black border set off her dusky complexion. With straight black hair framing her face, she looked stunning. Jasmine’s blouse was small for her; making her breasts seem fuller. Looking in the full-length mirror, Ruby could not believe it was her. She looked so different.

  I even feel different, Ruby thought with surprise.

  “I feel nervous.” Ruby swiveled around slowly, clutching the folds of the silk sari. “What if it falls off?”

  “The men there will be in for a treat, then.” Jasmine chuckled. “You don’t do that.” She removed Ruby’s hands from the folds of the sari. “Just let it fall free. Don’t worry. It won’t fall off. Now try to walk.”

  Ruby took a few tentative steps. Then realizing it was not flimsily tied, she walked more confidently. Jasmine watched her go up and down. “Better? Think you can manage?”

  “Much better.” Ruby nodded. “I think I can.”

  “Then shall we, Ms. Gill?” Jasmine gestured at the door with a big smile. Ruby nodded and, picking up her clutch, got ready to follow. Then Jasmine frowned. “Wait. What’s missing?” Ruby gave her a perplexed look. “Now I see it. You need something to set it off.” Returning to her dressing table, Jasmine scrabbled in the jewelry box and pulled out a pearl necklace and earrings.

  “There is no need for that, Jasmine.”

  “Nonsense. We are going to paint the town red.” Jasmine cut her off and helped her put them on. “Let Delhi know that the Gill sisters are out tonight.”

  Ruby tossed her hair back coquettishly. “Yes! Let’s go get them, girl.”

  She was turning away from the dressing table when she spotted a pistol in the open jewelry box.

  “You keep a gun?” Surprised, she asked, “Why?”

  “Oh no, I hate guns.” Jasmine gave a shudder. “That’s not mine. Daddy put it there. He even made me learn how to fire it.”

  “What on earth for?”

  “Ever since we moved here and he was put in charge of the ATTF, there have been threats against him. He says it is not a problem, but just in case … He even makes me carry pepper spray when I go out.”

  Silence fell upon the two women.

  “Well, it’s not so bad.” Jasmine giggled. “You should have seen Mom’s face when he made her go for firing practice.… She was fuming.”

  Her giggle broke the somber mood. They were laughing again when they headed down. Jasmine caught hold of Ruby’s hand as they descended. Ruby found the gesture strangely natural. It made her feel sad. She realized that this was what life would have been like if Ravinder and Rehana had … Ruby fought an unexpected surge of tears. Stopping, she turned and gave the surprised Jasmine a big hug.

  “Thank you, Jasmine. Thank you very much.” The words came out hushed.

  Jasmine’s eyes were moist too. Then she forced a laugh as they headed out. They were at the door when Jasmine stopped. “Wait. I need to tell my mother when we will be back.” Leaving Ruby, she went to the base of the stairs and called out. “Mom! Mom!” There was no response. Jasmine headed up.

  When she returned, her smile had vanished.

  “She is upset?” Ruby murmured, lightly touching her arm. Jasmine looked away. “I can understand. Anyone would be.”

  Jasmine looked at her; a long, close look. She realized Ruby was sincere and nodded.

  They did not exchange another word as they got into Jasmine’s car, a silver Tata Vista hatchback, and drove out. Their silence was awkward. Suddenly the car alongside swerved and cut them off, diving in front of them.

  “Screw you! Moron!” Jasmine flipped her middle finger at the errant driver. She saw Ruby watching her with a smile and giggled. “That’s Delhi traffic for you.”

  They both laughed, and their awkwardness vanished.

  “What kind of food do you like?” Jasmine asked as they hit the roundabout near India Gate.

  “All kinds. Tonight, you decide.”

  “Fine. Chinese it is, then.” Jasmine giggled. “I can never get enough of it.”

  “So be it. I like Chinese a lot too.”

  “Strange, isn’t it?” Jasmine said. “How similar people can be? Despite being so different. Look at us. I’m an Indian, born and bred here. You are half Indian–half Palestinian, brought up in London. And yet, we both love Chinese food.”

  Yes. We both laugh when we are happy. We cry when we are hurt, or sad. We bleed when we are cut. Ruby did not say that out loud, of course. Then why so many differences?

  Then Jasmine turned the car into the Oberoi Hotel on Dr. Zakir Hussain Marg. The two young women, so similar, yet so different,
walked into Taipan, the Chinese restaurant.

  The large, well-lit room had tables placed comfortably apart, all sparkling with crystal ware. Snow-white linen lent a pristine touch to the ambience. Soft oriental music was playing in the background, loud enough to be audible, yet soft enough to allow the guests to converse easily. Despite being a weekday, it was almost full.

  Ruby was touched; she could tell that Jasmine was going out of her way to make this evening memorable.

  “I love Chinese food, but am not very good at ordering it,” Jasmine said as they sat at a table in the corner. “Would you like to do the ordering?”

  “Not at all.” Ruby smiled. “Just go ahead and order what you like. I am sure it will be perfect.”

  “At least help me with the wine, please. You see I rarely get to have a drink. Mom doesn’t like me drinking any alcohol.”

  “We need not have wine, then.… No point upsetting your mother, is there?”

  “Nonsense! Of course we will have wine.” She consulted the waiter and ordered a Maotai, a fiery 106-proof concoction.

  This was the second time Ruby had heard Jasmine talk about her mother. She noted with surprise that she also called her mother “Mom.”

  Genes?

  Ruby watched the younger girl as she placed the order. She seemed childlike. Innocent. Guileless. Secure.

  “Didn’t you get a bit carried away?” Ruby asked as the waiter walked off. “Are you sure we can eat all that?”

  “Of course we can. Just you wait.… The food here is excellent. It’s not the usual Chindian stuff you get in Delhi.”

  “Chindian?”

  “Chinese Indian. Like Chilly Chicken Manchurian. I bet most Chinese never heard of it, till we invented it for them.” Jasmine grinned. “Sometimes I think they’d wage war on us if they realized what we’ve done to their food.” They both laughed.

  That was when Jasmine noticed two young men at an adjacent table throwing glances at Ruby. Her hackles rose. Getting up, Jasmine exchanged places with Ruby, much to her amusement, so that she was the one facing them now. Her angry glares soon turned the men off.

  “I can take care of myself, you know.” Ruby chuckled; and yet moved that Jasmine felt so protective about her.