RIP

by Deva,Mukul

  The return journey was too short, for both of them.

  *

  Raghav left his office a little after lunch. He normally found the two women he had hired quite amusing. However, today, with Reena weighing on his mind, they started getting on his nerves.

  Still sadistically keen to take the CBI surveillance team for a spin around town he first headed for Janpath and spent an hour sipping coffee in a small coffee shop. He chose the worst possible location for the cops, ensuring they spent the entire hour sweating in their car. Finally getting bored with the cat and mouse game he told his driver to head back for Satbari.

  They were crossing Aurobindo Market when Raghav spotted the colourful toyshop right up front. That struck a chord with him.

  ‘Pull over in the market,’ he told the driver.

  What better excuse to go and look up Reena?

  Entering the shop he suddenly realized that he had no clue what kind of toys Azaan would like or usually played with. And so, relying on the shop assistant’s advice he picked a dozen toys; the most extravagant ones they had.

  With the car boot full of toys he then headed for Reena’s office; it was just getting to five and Raghav figured she’d be there. He knew if he called her beforehand she would tell him not to come to her office; so best to catch her by surprise.

  ‘She’s called in sick today. Would you like to leave a message?’ The lady at the NDTV reception told him.

  ‘No, it’s fine. I’ll call her myself.’

  He then headed for her house. His Merc was navigating the corner that led to the blind alley in which Reena’s apartment was located when Raghav saw a Scorpio pull up outside her apartment block. He saw Krishna leap out and hold the door open for Reena. They spoke for a minute before Krishna got back into the Scorpio. Reena stood there waving as he drove away. She was smiling, and seemed happy and at peace.

  Raghav fought the insane surge of anger sweeping through him. But he knew this was the time to stay in control, if he wanted Reena back. His sudden, almost schizophrenic, mood swings and anger had always upset her a lot. Raghav knew that if he confronted Krishna right now he would hit him. That would not do. And would not be enough; Raghav had a much worse fate in mind for Krishna.

  Allowing the Scorpio to turn the corner Raghav leaped out and strode towards Reena who was about to open the black metal gate and let herself in.

  ‘Hi Reena,’ Raghav called out when he was a dozen feet away.

  Reena was stunned to hear Raghav’s voice. And unable to keep the shock off her face; it went red. She could not help wondering if he had seen Krishna drop her off. She knew that it was not Raghav’s business any more who she chose to spend time with, and that she had not done anything to be ashamed of, but the awkwardness persisted.

  Raghav noticed. So, she’s feeling guilty at being caught out by me. Bitch! He kept his face expressionless, masking his anger with a smile.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Reena spluttered. ‘I thought I’d told you I am not comfortable with your coming to my place.’

  ‘Don’t worry I’m not coming inside, just stopped by to give you Azaan’s birthday gifts.’

  ‘But I thought you’d wanted to meet him tomorrow morning. Wouldn’t it be best if you gave it to him yourself? I know he’d like that.’

  ‘I thought it’d be best if you gave it to him when you wish him at midnight.’ Raghav forced a familiar smile. ‘I know you’ll be doing that. You always did. Never saw you miss that even once in all those years.’ He was trying hard to bring back happier memories of their marriage. ‘Even when he was three I remember you waking him up at midnight and having him cut the cake.’ He laughed. ‘You did that even for my birthdays.’

  Reena sensed what he was trying to do and was immediately uncomfortable. ‘Fine give me the toys then.’ She wanted the conversation over and Raghav to leave as fast as possible.

  ‘There are quite a few. Should I help carry them up?’

  ‘No.’ Reena responded firmly. ‘Just keep them here inside the gate. I’ll have my maid take them up.’

  That irked Raghav, but he sensed it would be silly to push it.

  They stood in silence as Raghav’s driver took them out of the boot and stacked them up in the drive.

  Realizing that he would have to leave soon, Raghav took the plunge. ‘Have you made up your mind about what we spoke?’

  ‘Yes.’ There was no hesitation in Reena’s tone. ‘I don’t think I have it in me to try again.’ Without waiting for a reply she hurried inside, aching to get away from this fraught situation.

  Raghav stood there fuming. Now making no attempt to control his rage. You’re turning me down so that you can shack up with that bastard! I‘ll show you. And him too.

  ‘Just you wait, bro,’ he muttered as he walked angrily to his car and told the driver to take him back to Satbari. ‘The day the RIP makes its next move you’re fucking toast.’ In his head he could picture Krishna clearly; the man’s head was in his gun sights.

  He was so out of sorts that, for the moment, he even forgot about the CBI surveillance team tailing him.

  *

  From behind the curtains of the living room window Azaan watched the exchange between his parents. From Reena’s ramrod stiff posture and the expression on Raghav’s face the youngster sensed their tension.

  Azaan had just returned after an exciting afternoon with his grandmother. Domino’s pizza and his favourite Ben & Jerry’s ice cream had ensured he was in a happy, mellow mood when she finally dropped him back.

  Now, his mood shifted abruptly, as he saw his mother turn and head up to the apartment. Then he watched his father stride angrily back to his car and drive away. Tears pricked Azaan’s eyes. Rubbing his eyes he ran to the bathroom and locked himself in. Young though he was, Azaan knew how troubled Reena would get if she saw him crying.

  When Reena let herself in she saw his school bag strewn across the dining table and knew he was back. She called out but getting no reply went across to his bedroom. The sound of the shower running in his bathroom made her smile, and she felt some of her Raghav-induced stress bleed away. Azaan usually needed to be reminded a dozen times before he went for a shower. Normally he would throw himself before the television the minute he got back from school and only get up after he’d been given something to eat.

  Perhaps my little boy is growing up.

  Humming to ease the tension coiled inside, she went to the kitchen to check on dinner.

  Inside the bathroom Azaan sat slumped on the toilet seat. His tears flowing almost as freely as the shower.

  It was worse for Azaan since he could not decide whether he hated his dad or not. He did not know what exactly Raghav had done, but judging by Reena’s and his grandmother’s reactions he sensed it was something terrible. Even then Azaan was not really sure. He knew he missed him though.

  *

  ‘I see.’ Vinod pursed his lips when Nanda finished giving him the day’s surveillance report on all three subjects. ‘So Bhagat’s soon to be ex-wife Reena spent part of the day with Athawale and his sister, and the rest with him at his place. Then, after Athawale dropped her off, Bhagat met her. Interesting,’ he repeated again, wrapping his head around it. ‘Is it personal or professional?’ he finally mused aloud.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Nanda looked perplexed.

  ‘A lot seems to be going on between these three? Are these two guys using her as a communication conduit . . . or is there some other angle that we’ve not yet spotted?’ Vinod chewed on that for a bit. ‘She is with the media after all. These media people will do anything for a sensational story.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound very plausible to me sir.’

  ‘You’re right. Was just thinking through the possibilities.’ Vinod ran a long, thoughtful tap on the table with his fingers. ‘What about their phone taps? Anything worthwhile there?’

  ‘Nope. A couple of telemarketing people selling some crap and a few obviously business-related or social calls ea
ch.’

  ‘Did you backtrack all of them? Those apparently innocuous marketing calls could have been coded messages.’

  ‘Yes we did. Still nothing.’

  ‘Fine. Keep the surveillance and phone taps going for a couple of days more.’

  Vinod waited till Nandakumar left and then reported the day’s events to Karunakaran. Reluctantly, but he did.

  Needless to say, the minister was not overly thrilled with the lack of progress. He had just gotten off the phone with Bhagat, who had called from his newly acquired, untraceable SIM card. Bhagat’s team had also failed to come up with anything tangible, though they had spent hours going through every single crime scene and talking to possible eye-witnesses in every city. No one seemed to have seen anything or anyone suspicious.

  ‘How is it possible? Are they ghosts?’

  Vinod could think of no answer to that, so kept mum.

  ‘We need to find these buggers, Bedi. Fast. I’m telling you they will strike again soon.’ Vinod winced as the minister slammed the phone down.

  Neither man had any idea how prophetic those words would turn out to be.

  *

  Krishna found Sachin in a pensive mood when he returned. Keen to cheer him up Krishna ordered his favourite pizza, pepperoni.

  They were waiting for it when Sachin suddenly said, ‘I like Azaan’s mom.’

  Krishna could not help but notice he had not called her what he usually did, Reena aunty.

  Before he could respond Sachin added, very softly, ‘She wears the same perfume mummy did.’ There was a distant, wistful look in his eyes, as they sought out Pooja’s photograph on the mantle. Krishna could see they were moist.

  I miss Pooja too, my son. I know how you feel, Krishna wanted to say. He did. Almost.

  Do I? Will I ever be able to tell him that it may have been my bullet that took her away from us?

  Suddenly Krishna felt his heart stall. Helpless. Overwhelmed. He was completely at a loss for words. Unsure that he might say something silly and make Sachin feel worse. He looked away. The silence between them stretched. Painfully.

  Then his mobile rang. Grateful for the distraction, for something practical to do, Krishna took the call eagerly.

  ‘I agree with you Karan,’ Krishna said after Karan finished giving him feedback on the day’s surveillance. ‘It’s better to give it another day . . . more if required, but we need not take any unnecessary chances.’

  ‘That’s fine, sir, but Hazarika’s health is fading fast. If something happens to him it could be a fatal blow to all our plans.’

  ‘That’s also true,’ Krishna concurred; he had also been following the activists fast through the national media.

  They agreed to give it one more day and re-evaluate. But Krishna’s unease persisted long after the call ended.

  Like all K-Team members both were using another set of untraceable SIM cards; the previous set having been discarded post the last strike. Krishna was ensuring they would leave no personal traces behind . . . nothing that could be linked to any K-Team member.

  Every phone, every SIM, every weapon used for a strike was being systematically destroyed and disposed of as soon as it had been used for an operation. It was an expensive and troublesome option, but one that Krishna deemed mandatory. Unknown to him, his precautions were paying off; the CBI taps on his phones yielded nothing.

  Emotionally uneasy, though intellectually satisfied with the day’s progress, Krishna finally lay down to sleep. It had been a long day and he was exhausted. But his mind was in turmoil and sleep took a long time in coming.

  He had yet to forgive himself for forgetting Pooja’s anniversary. Mingling with that was the undeniable joy and peace that being with Reena brought for him. He could no longer refuse to acknowledge it. The clash of loyalty and love brought additional turmoil in their wake. Adding to it was the stress building up in anticipation of the impending RIP strike.

  Krishna knew that their latest target would be no pushover; it would test K-Team to the max. But if . . . when, he automatically corrected himself . . . when they pulled it off, the government would be hard pressed not to act. Krishna was hopeful that if they could get this target, the message would be clear.

  No one is safe.

  When he finally did fall asleep, for the second night in a row, the nightmare of IC 814 did not return to plague him.

  And that had not happened in a very long time.

  TWELVE

  THOUGH THE MIDDAY sun was pouring in through the huge glass windows of his bedroom, Bhagat was dead to the world when his mobile rang. But the shrill ringing eventually irritated him awake. Knowing that only his team and Karunakaran had this new number, he took the call.

  ‘We’ve found a guy who says he saw the motorcyclist and car driver in Mumbai.’ Ratnakar sounded really excited.

  ‘Which motorcyclist?’ The whisky hangover was still befuddling Bhagat’s head.

  ‘The one who crashed the bike in Hassan’s car in Mumbai and the car that had hemmed it in,’ Ratnakar explained. ‘We have found this ragpicker who was sifting through trashcans in the alley when the motorcyclist and his accomplice had run past. He says he saw them clearly.’

  Bhagat jolted awake. Acutely alive now.

  ‘He’s sure he can recognize them?’

  ‘That’s what he says. Apparently they walked right past him. Scared by the explosion he was crouching behind the trashcans so they didn’t see him though.’

  ‘Who else has he told?’

  ‘No one. No one asked him.’

  ‘How did you find him?’

  ‘We were just going over the area again and I spotted the bugger rooting in the garbage. Just took a chance and asked him,’ Ratnakar admitted frankly. ‘Dumb luck, I’d say.’

  Dumb luck indeed! How many cases has that solved?

  ‘Get him to a safe house. Clean him up, feed him, give him some new clothes, money . . . whatever . . . just keep the bugger happy. I’m going to send some photos across to you. Show them to him.’

  ‘Roger that boss.’

  Now wide awake Raghav ran to the shower to clear his head.

  ‘Hello darling! You’re finally up.’ Smita, the office receptionist, greeted him as he entered the bathroom. She was happily lounging in the jacuzzi.

  ‘You’re still here?’ Bhagat vaguely remembered sending the driver to fetch her the previous evening, when he had gotten back home from Reena’s house. Somehow rage always fuelled his sexual energy. But he had assumed she would have gone back home.

  ‘Well,’ Smita pouted, ‘where did you expect me to go at two in the morning? It was already past that by the time you got done.’ Then she giggled, looking down at him pointedly. ‘And I can see that now you’re up and about again.’

  And he was. The good news from Ratnakar and now the sight of her wet, lush body had aroused him. Despite the sense of urgency, he was unable to resist the temptation. Stiff with pleasure, he threw off his clothes and joined her in the jacuzzi. Taking her in his lap he lowered her on his rock-hard penis. She moaned as he entered, half pretend, half pleasure. But by the time he came there was very little pretence; whatever else he was Raghav Bhagat knew how to love a woman.

  An hour later he watched her drive off. Now feeling energized and charged up, he turned to the task at hand.

  Photos? I need to send photos of Krishna and his teammates to Ratnakar.

  He knew that calling Karunakaran was the easiest option; the man had unlimited resources at his disposal, it would be child’s play for him to get the photos. But no, Raghav wanted this for himself.

  No one else will take that bastard down.

  He sat down with a big mug of coffee. To think. And plan.

  What if the ragpicker actually identified one of the guys from Krishna’s team? What if it was none of them?

  Either way Raghav had to ensure the end result was the same.

  There are many ways to make an eyewitness see things. Even those he had not seen.r />
  Raghav laughed. He was beginning to enjoy the deadly game now.

  *

  Kunal watched the Mark’s car nose its way past the sandbagged barricades.

  One, two, three . . . the usual six-car cavalcade swept out of the heavily guarded house. Nothing more. No additional security. So far, so good!

  Mark’s escort was armed and alert. To be expected. The SPG were handpicked from the best of the best in the country. And they knew the threats their protectees faced were chillingly real. As was the threat to those who stood between them and those who sought to harm them.

  ‘Mark is moving now. Heading your way.’ Kunal alerted Kulwant, parked further down the road. Allowing for enough distance to ensure he was on the periphery of visual range, Kunal followed.

  This was the third day of their surveillance. By now K-Team could pretty much tell the colour of the eyes of the escort team, and most of their individual habits.

  K-Team had been changing cars and rotating at irregular intervals. Yet they maintained a good standoff and were careful to ensure the SPG escort did not pick up on them.

  *

  There was a sea of children swarming over Reena’s apartment when Krishna and Sachin entered. Brightly coloured balloons and streamers were strung all over. Right in the centre was a large balloon filled with little gift items, for the birthday boy to explode after he had cut the cake.

  Krishna got the impression that Azaan’s complete class of twenty-five was here for his birthday.

  Maybe some more, he smiled quietly, surveying the playing kids. Slightly overwhelmed by the bedlam.

  Sachin on the other hand was enthused by the sight. He abandoned Krishna and was soon lost in the melee.

  ‘Rather disconcerting, isn’t it?’ Reena had come up beside him.

  ‘Absolutely!’ Turning to her Krishna admitted with a sheepish grin, ‘I have no idea how you can manage so many kids. I would rather face a machine gun.’ In a bright red dress, with a thick black belt that set off her figure, black hair and fair complexion, Krishna thought she looked exquisite. ‘You’re looking absolutely wonderful,’ he could not help commenting.

  ‘Thank you.’ Her cheeks started coordinating colour with her dress but she looked pleased.