by Gabriel Khan
Sharmaji came forward, utterly shamefaced, and knelt in front of Ajay. ‘Forgive me, Ajju. It was wrong of me to say all that.’
Ajay shook his head. ‘No, Sharmaji, it wasn’t. Maybe I should have told you myself, but to be honest, I didn’t know how you guys would take it.’
Sharmaji slapped him reproachfully on the knee. Iqbal and Joginder walked up to him, and clapped Ajay on his back. ‘I’ll tell you one thing, Ajay,’ Sharmaji said, ‘the CBI, police, whoever the fuck else rejected you were morons. You’re a bigger patriot than them anyway, all of them put together. And you’re doing a better job than they are.’
The others nodded.
Ajay smiled at them. The crisis was over.
They all stood up, grinned at each other, and unanimously elected to have a drink. But nobody noticed that Sharmaji’s glass was the fullest, and was being drained the most quickly. Several times, he opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind at the last minute.
He had been looking for a reason to hand Ajay to the cops. But right now, he was left wondering if that would be a good idea at all. Then he thought of his kids, his wife, his family, and hardened himself. Some necessary choices had to be made. No one had said this would be easy.
19
Countdown:
Thursday night
Sharma’s interrogation had gone well, better than I’d hoped, to be honest. As I shut the door behind me, I knew he would play on my side. I’d seen enough cowards to know they always batted for whichever they believed was the stronger side.
The three of us reached the lobby of the hotel, and strode to the door. But there was something else I needed to do, something I couldn’t hold back much longer. I spoke in a low voice to Ranveer and Rahul. ‘Brief More and Gupta one more time. I’ll meet you guys tomorrow. Goodnight.’
They said goodnight and walked out of the door.
The lobby was empty except for the receptionist. So I directed my urgent query to him. ‘Oi! Where’s the toilet?’
Frowning with distaste at this obvious display of uncouthness, the man gestured with a thin hand to the end of the lobby. I nodded my thanks, and walked quickly to the washroom.
As I opened the door, I bumped into another man who was coming out.
‘Sorry,’ we both said in unison. He stood aside to let me in, and walked out.
It was not until my bladder had emptied itself that the nagging thought took shape. The man I’d just bumped into. Ajay!
I darted out of the door and stood there, looking around. He was nowhere to be seen. I went to the reception again, prepared to kick his ass, and had just opened my mouth when I saw him inside the bar, sitting at the counter with a drink.
What the hell? We’d crossed each other, but he’d shown no sign of recognition, even though he’d seen me inside the toilet in Ludhiana. He’d heard my voice too, but just now, when we spoke, he didn’t seem to know me.
Well, that was lucky. But, my cynical self told me, pure luck is rare. I had even caught a glimpse of Ajay inside the train before Sharma had waved goodbye at me. Our eyes had met. There was no way he couldn’t have known who I was.
But then, that meant—
A nasty, stupid idea formed in my head. My common sense screamed at me to ignore it and walk out NOW, because if I was wrong, it would blow the whole mission. But then…
I went to the bar and pushed the door open. Going right up to the counter, I sat down, leaving a couple of seats between Ajay and me, and asked for the menu.
Now that I was committed to the rash move, my heart slowed to its regular rate, and my eyes and brain took over, absorbing all the details around me, especially those around Ajay.
He was a nondescript chap, up close. There was nothing, absolutely nothing to distinguish him. That’s why he managed to evade everyone, I realized. He was just so plain that your eyes slipped over him, refused to register such an everyman. He was wearing a pair of cream trousers, and a green shirt which flared at the collar. His eyes were intent upon his glass, like a man mulling life’s mysteries in his mind. Beside the glass was a wedding card. I could just make out the words ‘Priya Weds Badrinath’.
I glanced at the menu. Looking up, I saw the bartender who’d handed me the menu watching me in polite expectation. I jabbed at the menu. ‘So much for just one drink? How much is it?’
The man’s face was blank. ‘Thirty ml. Sir.’ The ‘sir’ came as an afterthought, forced.
‘Anything smaller than that?’
‘No, sir.’
‘All right, all right. Get me a beer.’
Bloody hell. Four hundred rupees for a shot of whiskey! This was definitely the costliest risk I’d ever taken on my own tab, fiscally speaking.
The bartender stomped off. I looked over at Ajay, who was still staring at his drink. Time for the hook.
‘Hello,’ I said, keeping my voice as casual as possible.
He looked up at me. ‘Hello,’ he said, and smiled.
He knew. And he knew that I knew. And I could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t going to stop.
‘Hello,’ I said again, feeling a little foolish. He nodded.
I stuck out a hand across the empty stools. ‘Waseem,’ I said.
He looked at me for a microsecond, and took my hand. ‘Vardhan,’ he said. We shook hands.
‘So,’ I said, still keeping my voice casual, ‘what is it that you do, Mr Vardhan?’
Ajay looked down at his drink again. ‘I’m in sales.’
I pointed at the card. ‘Your relative? Badrinath?’
He looked at the card as if he’d suddenly become aware of it. Then he took it, folded and stuffed it into his pocket. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Just some unlucky chap.’
The bartender arrived with my drink and put it down in front of me, along with soda and water. I was damned if I was going to pay for that, Ajay or no Ajay in front of me. ‘I didn’t ask for soda,’ I said.
The bartender sighed theatrically. ‘Complimentary.’ The ‘sir’ was altogether gone now, I noticed.
‘All right, fill ’er up.’ He did, and left.
I took a swig, looked up and saw Ajay watching me, a strange look on his face. ‘What line of work are you in?’ he said.
‘Government service,’ I said.
‘Really?’ he said, apparently perking up. ‘Government does service too? Cheers!’
I smiled back. ‘Cheers! Why, do you have a quarrel with the government?’
‘Quarrels are for the weak, Waseem saab…’
‘And people like you?’
He chuckled. ‘People like me just enjoy our drinks quietly, live out our lives.’
‘What’s the verdict?’
He looked at me, shook his head and got up. ‘Charge the bill to my room,’ he told the bartender, and stuffed some cash into his hand as a tip. Then he looked at me. ‘Goodnight, Waseem saab.’
I nodded. ‘Goodnight.’
Cool motherfucker! I wondered, what he would do if I…
Swiftly, I brought out my wallet, took out a hundred-rupee note, and dropped it to the floor. ‘Mr Vardhan,’ I shouted.
Ajay turned, and watched as I picked up the money. ‘You dropped this.’
He came closer, and I handed him the note. ‘It’s yours, isn’t it?’ I asked.
He nodded. ‘Yes, yes, of course. Thank you.’ Then he turned and strolled out.
Arrogant, greedy bastard. Wouldn’t even let go of a hundred bucks!
All right, Ajay. You’ll pay for that. I’ll take you out personally.
20
Setting It Up
Holiday Inn, Friday, 11 a.m.
D-Day dawned, bright and sunny. It was a good day to get rich or get caught, thought Ajay, as he waited in the conference room with Iqbal and Joginder. Sharmaji, uncharacteristically, was late. When he finally turned up, he looked drawn, as if he hadn’t slept the night.
The clock struck eleven. One by one, the Special 26 poured into the room.
Nobody saw Sharmaji shaking his head in disbelief.
‘Once the raid is conducted,’ Ajay continued, ‘you will all come back here. If everything’s in order, you will get your appointment letters. Now, Mr Roy here…’ he pointed at Sharmaji, ‘will give you your orders. Follow them to the letter.’
Sharmaji took over. He was back to his usual self.
‘Remember, you’re the highest authority here,’ he said, glaring at the group. ‘No one has the power to stop you. No one can stop you. No one can come between you and your duty. Do you understand?’
There was a chorus of perfectly harmonized ‘yes, sir’s.
Sharmaji nodded approvingly. ‘Good. Now listen carefully.’
Ajay left them to it, and quietly walked out of the room.
Opera House Showroom, Friday, 9 a.m.
At 9 a.m. sharp, I entered the jewellery showroom. It was a swanky affair, glass everywhere, neon lights, fluorescent lights, all designed to reflect as much glitter as possible. Ranveer and Solanki were waiting for me in the lobby. There was another man with them, a fat man with a ring on every finger, at least a couple of bracelets on each wrist, a chain around his neck, enough gold to weigh down the goddamn Titanic. And he had a look of anxiety on his face.
Solanki introduced us. ‘Sir, this is Magandas Singhania, the owner of this establishment. Maganji, this is Waseem Khan, CBI.’
A look of panic flitted across Magandas’s face. ‘C-C-CBI? But why?’
I glared at him. ‘That’s it, Mr Singhania, that’s exactly the reaction they take advantage of. Sethji, your establishment will be looted today.’ I took a certain malicious pleasure in giving the man a shock.
All I managed to do was to make him look more anxious than before. ‘Wh-what do you mean?’
‘At about three this afternoon. Around thirty men will turn up posing as CBI officers to loot your shop.’ I gave him a look. ‘I believe I’m correct in assuming you’d want to avoid being looted like that?’
The man nodded emphatically.
‘Good. Do you have a safe place to stash the goods until all this is over?’
‘Everything?’
‘Yes, everything, everything that’s in the shop,’ I snapped.
‘Oh! I have a factory, everything can be stored there.’
‘How far?’
‘Not too far, at Andheri MIDC, about an hour from here.’
‘Good. We’ll replace all your jewellery with our own marked jewellery. So you have to shift everything you have out of here and into that factory. Do it within half an hour.’
Magandas shrieked. ‘Half an hour? But how can I do it in half an hour?’
I was not in the mood to tiptoe. ‘Look, it’s quite possible. Get it done. They’re going to clean out your shop in half an hour. I don’t want any of your employees here. I’m going to replace them all with my men and the police. You will close your shop for the public. There will be customers in here, but they will be our officers.’
Magandas scratched his head. ‘Sir, if you know everything, why don’t you just arrest them where they are?’
I snapped. Here we were trying to save his ass, and he was trying to avoid any inconvenience to himself. I grabbed his shirt and pulled him close so that his nose was an inch from mine. At this distance, I could smell the fear on him. ‘Listen to me, Sethji. There’s no law against thinking up a crime. We can get them only if they commit the crime. And that too, when we have proof that they’re guilty. So what’s it going to be? Will you handle it on your own, or get the fuck out of the way so I can save your ass?’
The look on Magandas’s face was answer enough.
I left Solanki and Ranveer to coordinate with him, then went and dialled Rahul at Holiday Inn. ‘What’s going on there?’
‘It’s all good, sir. As expected. The training is going on.’
‘Anything we need to be worried about?’
‘Nothing, sir.’
‘Good. Keep me posted.’
I went back to the lobby. Solanki was there, gazing at a map. He looked up as I approached. ‘I’ve got a map of this area. It should help.’
I motioned to him to follow me. We went up to the terrace, Solanki still clutching the map. I pointed at buildings around us. ‘Forget the map,’ I said. I hated maps, only used them when absolutely necessary. Far better to get to a high vantage point and look around you. That way, you get the feel of the place. ‘I want a sniper here, here and there. There should be no way the bastards can get out alive, all right?’
Solanki nodded and rushed off. Directly in front of me, on the street below, an armoured van had arrived. Magandas’s stuff was being loaded into it under the watchful eyes of Ranveer and the anxious eyes of Magandas.
I went down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and came out into the lobby. I went to the van and checked it thoroughly. I turned to Ranveer. ‘How much longer?’
He didn’t take his eyes off the loading. ‘Another five minutes, I guess.’
‘Hmm. Once you’re done, check the CCTV setup here.’
He nodded. When the loading was done, the van drove off silently, six armed officers inside, and a couple of police cars following it.
I walked to a nearby paan shop. I needed a cigarette. The man saw me approach, but mistook me for a bystander. ‘Gimme a Gold Flake,’ I barked at him. He was more interested in what was going on behind me, and was staring at the van. ‘Hey!’ I said. ‘Gimme a Gold Flake.’
He was about to retort, something rude no doubt, when Solanki ran up behind me. ‘Snipers in place, sir.’
‘Good.’ I squinted into the distance. ‘I need more men. Two plainclothes there, and there. At both ends of the road. I want two more there, where they’ll park the bus. And get me another seven–eight men. I want them scattered among these locals.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Solanki and rushed off.
I turned to see the paanwallah looking at me round-eyed, a cigarette packet held in his quivering hand. His face was a mask of terror, no doubt because of the sudden appearance of the uniform-clad Solanki and my orders to him.
‘I asked for just one.’
The man fumbled with the packet, his normally dexterous fingers tearing at the plastic wrapper. Finally, he extracted a cigarette and handed it reverentially to me. Before I could ask, his hands had cupped a match in front of me, although it took me a good few seconds before I could light the cigarette because of his violently shaking hands. I nodded to him, took out a one-rupee note and left it on the counter.
Holiday Inn, Friday, 2 p.m.
‘What’s wrong, Sharmaji?’ said Ajay, leaning against the desk in the conference room behind which the older man was sitting.
‘Wrong? Nothing, why?’ said Sharmaji, looking green.
‘You seem very tense today,’ said Ajay.
Sharmaji smile was sickly. ‘I’m growing old, I guess. Can’t take the stress any more.’
Ajay laughed. ‘Come on! This is our last time, enjoy it. And anyway, you don’t have to worry. I’m leading today, remember?’
Sharmaji nodded. But before he could say anything more, Joginder burst through the door. ‘The bus is here.’
Ajay looked at his watch. 2 p.m., bang on time. ‘All right, load everyone up.’
He stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder. Then he looked at Sharmaji and smiled. ‘Game on.’
Opera House, Friday, 2 p.m.
‘Good. Stay on the line. I want real-time reports.’ I turned to Solanki and directed a questioning look at him. ‘We’re fully ready,’ he said.
Ranveer came up and nodded. ‘CCTV working perfectly, sir.’
Rahul started speaking again. ‘Sir, they’ve made a rush for it. They’re all in the bus now!’
‘Is Ajay in there?’
‘He was standing at the front, so yes, has to be.’
‘Okay.’
‘Sir, they’re taking their seats… the bus is starting… it’s moving now… it’s at the gate… it’s paused at the gate, driver’s looking both ways… rolling again… the bus is leaving… sir, the bus has left, repeat, the bus has left!’
Talk about a real-time report.
I hung up and turned to the others in the room. Everyone was standing at attention. ‘Okay, listen up! The bus has left the hotel. It’ll be here in an hour. Anyone wants to take a leak or something, go do it now. You won’t get time later. But remember this. Nobody, and I mean nobody, must escape today. I want them alive. if they try to make a run for it, take them down, shoot them down if you have to. Nobody gets out of here alive, got it?’
There was vigorous nodding around the room.
‘Good. Now, none of you make a move until I say so. Wait for my signal. Do not, repeat, do not move before I signal.’
I pointed to Solanki. ‘You’ll monitor from the terrace.’ He nodded.
I turned to Solanki’s number one. ‘Shinde, you’ll monitor the traffic police. I want eyes at all times on the bus.’
‘I’ve already mobilized the traffic department, sir. And our men are following the bus in unmarked cars.’
‘Good. Ranveer, you will be at the edge of the road. Make sure nobody gets out.’
‘Yes, sir.’
I looked around one last time. This was it. ‘Good luck, guys.’
I went up to the terrace of the building opposite Opera House. From time to time, the radio crackled as the teams following the bus and the traffic police gave us updates on the location of the bus. I looked around. Everything was in place. The street below looked normal, exactly as on any other day.