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  Before Krishna could respond his mobile chirruped to life. He saw the calling number. Karan. Excusing himself he stepped away.

  ‘No, Sachin is fine now,’ he said softly. ‘I will be with you guys in fifteen minutes max.’

  Payal noticed that even when he was on the phone Krishna’s eyes had not strayed from Reena. She knew her brother well. Too well to miss his interest in Reena. She felt a lightness sweep through her. It was high time Krishna stopped moping about Pooja and got on with life. She had been telling him that for a while.

  Pooja had been a lovely person. Payal knew that she could not have asked for a better wife for her brother.

  But she is dead. And life must go on. Pooja would want that too.

  Hiding her smile Payal threw a quick look at Reena; she too seemed very aware of Krishna’s presence, and his scrutiny. As a woman Payal could tell.

  ‘I need to get going.’ Krishna walked up to them, breaking into Payal’s thoughts. But the matchmaker in her had broken free and jumped to the fore, unwilling to let the opportunity pass.

  ‘No problems, but we must all get together again soon.’ She gave her brother a hug. ‘Don’t worry about Sachin at all. We’re going to have some serious fun.’

  ‘That’s true dad.’ Sachin also gave him a hug. ‘Azaan is here so we’re going to have tons to do.’

  Krishna left. There was a strange lightness in his heart. A feeling he had not encountered in a long while now. He had first noticed it when Payal had confirmed that Reena was single, even though the circumstances leading to it pained him. Especially since he was aware of how drastically life changed when your life partner went away. He could easily remember how often he had called out for Pooja, months after she had passed away. Like the ghost pains in an amputated limb, which lingered years after the limb was gone.

  That is why, somewhere deep in his heart, strands of guilt had also begun to raise their heads. Pooja was never far from him. But now he found himself thinking about Reena, far more easily than he would have thought possible. That left him confused.

  If he had known that Reena too was in turmoil he would probably have been even more confused.

  Or would he?

  *

  Reena also watched Krishna walk away with mixed feelings. The two young boys had again scampered off towards the vending machine and were now busy trying to coax another packet of chips out of it.

  ‘Why did he leave his son with you? Is his wife also travelling?’ Reena flushed when she realized that she had actually spoken out loud. Unwilling to admit, even to herself, that there was something about Krishna that appealed to her.

  ‘He lost his wife a couple of years ago,’ Payal replied softly, her eyes moistening as she remembered her brother’s pain.

  ‘Oh. I am so sorry to hear that.’ Reena was taken aback, almost ashamed she had asked. Yet she was unable to thwart her compelling need to know.

  ‘Do you remember that air hostess who was killed during the hijacking of that Indian Airlines flight, where they wanted that terrorist Kasab freed?’ Reena nodded; it had been too big an event for her not to know. It had been all over the news for weeks. ‘That was Pooja, his wife.’

  At a loss for words Reena gave a sad headshake.

  ‘Pooja was a lovely person. Krishna was absolutely devastated. He was doing very well in the paras at that time, but he just chucked everything and quit.’

  Reena started slightly when Payal mentioned the paras. Her ex . . . almost ex . . . she reminded herself . . . the divorce has still not come through . . . Raghav had been a paratrooper too. It was too much of a coincidence . . . too close for comfort. All at once Krishna appeared a lot less appealing.

  But everyone is not alike.

  Aren’t they?

  He does not seem like that.

  And you would know that because?

  It is not so hard to see that.

  One sees only what one wants to see.

  So? What do I want to see?

  That thought stood still in her head, like a rod of heat, melting the ice within her. The ice which cocooned her and always kept her safe.

  Unaware of Reena’s turmoil Payal added softly. ‘But it’s high time Krishna moves on. He is a good man and deserves to be happy. Sachin also would do well with a mother around.’

  The expression on Reena’s face was unfathomable. The confusion in her heart hurtful. She could now sense Payal the matchmaker at play; for quite a while Payal had been telling her to go out, meet people, and make friends. Knowing how much she cared for her, Reena did not blame Payal. But everything was still too raw for her.

  Even today. Despite the passage of almost three years since she had walked out of her marriage, she just had to close her eyes and the image would dance before her eyes. Of Raghav in bed with another woman. In their marital bed.

  It was on the third day of a week-long work trip to Mumbai that she had found out she was pregnant again. Thrilled and wanting to share this with Raghav, Reena had cut short the trip and taken the first flight to Delhi. Wanting to surprise Raghav she had not called him. Grinning from ear to ear she had let herself into the house quietly. At first the noises coming from their bedroom had surprised her. Surprise turned to shock when she pushed open the door. The duo on the bed impacted on her mind like a cattle prod. Raghav was mounted on her. The woman was squealing . . . moaning . . . as he rocked back and forth. The sound of their passion striking Reena like physical blows.

  Reena had gone still with shock. Strangely enough, even today, she could remember the big black mole on Raghav’s left buttock as it moved up and down. And the fact that the woman lying below him had not had her legs done.

  Each and every detail of that scene was still embedded in her memory. Like a motion picture reel that had suddenly gotten stuck in the projector. Frozen. Indelible. In a part of her mind that she seldom explored. But was acutely aware of.

  Even today, almost three years down, Reena still could not decide which was worse; that Raghav had cheated on her, or that he had cheated on her in the same bed that they’d . . .

  ‘But she didn’t mean anything, Reena.’ Raghav’s words rang in her head even now. That had made it hurt even more.

  The hurt had propelled her to the doctor. And the abortion table. Somehow the very thought of having another baby sired by Raghav seemed abominable . . . unclean . . . unbearable. Till today she had not been able to reconcile to those moments when they had purged that life from her womb. Till today she wasn’t sure whom she was angrier with for that. Raghav? Or herself?

  Reena blinked. Trying to will away those images from her head. But stubbornly they refused to go away. She blinked again. Hard. Exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Forcing herself to focus on Payal.

  But she knew it would be a while before she trusted another man again. Especially another paratrooper . . . they lived too close to the edge . . . just like Raghav . . . And she could not forget the hurt Raghav had given her. She knew it would take a lot for her to trust another man.

  In any case, I hardly know him. It’s not as if . . . Unaware that she had done so, she shrugged.

  But Krishna was in her mind as she went back to work. Somehow she sensed there was something genuine about this man. Something special.

  Also, hovering over her mind like a nebulous shadow, were thoughts of Raghav. So many years of marriage just do not go away so easily. She had always stood by him, through everything. Not because she considered herself a helpless woman, but that is what she’d believed a spouse should do. Even the unpleasantness of the housing scam, early in their marriage. She’d believed him when Raghav blamed the politicians for setting him up as the fallguy. She’d believed his excuses, not because she was naive, but because that is the belief she’d grown up with—that marriages are built on a foundation of trust and transparency. She’d wanted . . . hoped . . . desperately that he was telling the truth. Slowly the lies had begun to unravel. That had hurt. Almost as much as . .
. but Reena’s heart tugged at her mind . . . there had been good times also . . . when they’d been happy. The omnipresent conflict dug deeper into her, tearing open wounds that she thought had closed. Like a Band-Aid being jerked off. Reena struggled to stem the rising tide of emotions. Tired of being overwhelmed once too often.

  No matter who you are, or how strong you are inside, some baggage does remain. Always.

  *

  The sharp, red-tailed dart hissed through the air and slammed into the dartboard hung on the opposite wall. The dartboard was shot full of holes; a favourite emotional punching bag for Raghav, something he turned to whenever he was upset, or wanted to think. It thwacked loudly into the board, an inch outside the round red bull’s eye.

  Seeing he had missed Raghav immediately reached for another dart, his fingers sliding over it, getting a feel of it, priming it for the throw. He was lost deep in thought.

  Who will they strike next?

  Raghav knew that the element of chance was just too high in this particular case for him to expect certain results. There were too many possible targets. And too many variables present at each of them. Raghav knew that even if they got lucky and managed to guess the right target, they had no way of knowing how, when and where the RIP would strike. Like in every battle, there were more questions than answers available.

  All a matter of chance . . . luck . . . kismet . . . whatever one may call it. Unknowingly he shrugged. But we’d had the bastards. Almost. If only his man hadn’t gotten so jumpy. If only . . .

  The second dart left his hand with a jerk. This one also missed. But was a mite closer to the bull’s eye. Now an instinctive, angry scowl darkened his face.

  His hands again picked up another dart. His head was far away, wrapped around the challenge confronting him. Pushing away the questions he returned to the task at hand and ran through his list yet again; everything that he had managed to glean from the police reports so far. And from his men.

  There was no longer any doubt about the RIP being highly trained professionals.

  Firstly, not many people around who can take out a target at that range.

  Raghav tried to recall the ones he knew. Other than me, he reminded himself with a grin. Even today he knew he could do it. It had been a while since he had worked out at a firing range, but . . . Firing is like fucking, you don’t really forget how . . . either you’re good at it, or you aren’t. It’s that simple. He grinned again. Right since his NDA (National Defence Academy) days Raghav had been a natural with a rifle. He had been on the Academy team, then the regimental one and eventually the Services team.

  Secondly, these guys had access to some fancy weapons and even to specialized poisons like the one they had used for the first three targets.

  The SVD sniper rifle mentioned in Nandakumar’s report to Karunakaran held his attention again. Another big pointer. He knew a lot of Indian Army snipers favoured it. Raghav also had been very fond of it . . . back then.

  Thirdly, each hit had been carefully reconnoitered and thoroughly planned.

  Little had been left to chance. No one had seen or noticed anything. The RIP seemed to be a bunch of ghosts; appearing unseen and striking at will. The way we used to do it in the 11th.

  Everything seemed to point towards either a bunch of highly trained assassins, or a Special Forces team in action. Considering the nature of targets being taken out and the demands made by the RIP, Raghav also arrived at the same conclusion as Vinod, that professional assassins or mercenaries seemed unlikely.

  Raising his hand he threw the third dart. A blue-tailed one this time. It slammed plumb into the middle of the bull.

  Bingo!

  A satisfied smile. The smile of one who enjoyed winning . . . just for the sake of winning . . . not because he enjoyed playing the game.

  His primordial urge satisfied, Raghav turned away from the dartboard, picked up the phone and called Karunakaran.

  ‘You’d mentioned the cops are putting together a list of likely suspects. Could you ask them to have a really close look at ex-Special Forces types? Especially the ones who have quit recently, or those who were fired from the services. Basically I’m looking for people who may be carrying some grudge against the establishment . . . maverick types.’

  ‘What do you think we are? Stupid?’ Karunakaran grated, obviously still irritated with their last conversation. Raghav held his peace, refusing to be goaded. ‘The CBI is already doing that.’

  ‘Please let me know as soon as they have it.’

  ‘I will. And you’d better get your act in place, my friend.’ There was nothing friendly in the way the last word was delivered. ‘Make sure you get these guys before someone else dies.’

  ‘You know I’m trying my best.’ Raghav could not help feeling defensive.

  ‘Not good enough,’ Karunakaran said coldly. ‘We’re paying you to get the buggers, not try.’

  Realizing this was going nowhere Raghav changed tack. ‘Can you suggest who the most likely politician is? Have the cops come up with anything firm?’

  ‘I have already sent you everything they have.’ The question seemed to stymie Karunakaran momentarily. Raghav could sense he was worried by that question, since it could well be him too.

  ‘I know, but it is still too long a list. We have already put some guys on two of the most probable arms dealers, but which politician do I work on? There are too many on that list and I now have manpower only for two more people.’

  ‘What makes you think they’ll go for the arms dealer first? And not the politician?’

  ‘Just a hunch, sir,’ Raghav admitted. ‘I’ve nothing else to go on.’

  ‘Then find something. Don’t sit around waiting for them to . . .’ Frustrated Karunakaran banged down the phone.

  Deliberately or not, he forgot to tell Raghav that Bedi was investigating his dead sniper and planning to round up all his known associates. Holding that information back somehow gave him a morbid sense of satisfaction. Raghav’s cockiness irritated him. Now more than ever.

  Perhaps hiring him hadn’t been such a smart idea after all.

  Much as he wanted the RIP menace to end, Karunakaran also wanted to see Raghav fall flat on his face.

  *

  At about the same time, not too far away, at Kulwant’s house in Soami Nagar, K-Team was also going through a frustrating time.

  ‘Who could that shooter be?’ Kulwant repeated for the tenth time.

  ‘They told us who he was.’ Karan gestured at the TV. ‘Some ex-NSG guy named Mahinder Singh.’

  ‘Yeah. I get that. But who sent him there? Why? What the hell was he doing there?’

  ‘It seems like we have copycats at work,’ Kashif finally chipped in. ‘There seems to be no other logical explanation. If he’d been with the cops they wouldn’t have gunned him down. So obviously he was there to hit the judge, but we got him first.’

  ‘Or us? He could have been looking for us. Why else would he shoot at us?’

  ‘But why would he do that?’ The questions were mounting. ‘Who could have possibly sent them?’

  Silence again. A longer one this time. All of them lost in thought.

  ‘Maybe,’ Krishna spoke slowly, as though still unsure what he wanted to say, ‘maybe there is something we’re not seeing. You could be right. Maybe there is someone else out there . . . looking for us . . . someone with an entirely different agenda.’

  The silence was longer this time. Krishna could sense that the others were aware the stakes had just gone up dramatically.

  ‘Who?’

  The word hung between them for a pretty long time.

  Finally. Karan. ‘So? What are you saying? Should we go ahead with the next one or not?’

  ‘I don’t know guys. All this is just guesswork.’ Krishna gave each of them a long look. ‘As for going ahead . . . if we do, we need to be very, very careful now.’

  ‘I think we should keep going.’ Karan and Kulwant began simultaneously.

 
‘Stopping now would be such a waste,’ Kulwant concluded.

  Krishna could sense that, despite the unknown shooter, they were all upbeat after the second successful mission.

  Yes! Phase Two had begun well. Even Krishna was unable to deny the exhilaration of success.

  ‘So be it.’ He nodded. ‘What’s the target’s agenda?’ He turned to Kashif, who’d been tasked to liaise with Kamlesh in Lucknow.

  ‘On schedule. She’s going to be at the election rally tomorrow at eleven. It’s all over the news.’

  ‘Perfect. Then we leave for Lucknow tonight. We have about five hundred miles to go, so we leave from here at seven p.m. That should get us there by five tomorrow morning.’

  Krishna had decided they would all go to Lucknow by car, since getting the hardware past airport security would have been an issue.

  ‘Grab some shut-eye guys, we have to be ready for the long haul.’

  ‘And you? You need rest too, sir.’

  ‘I’ll just pop by and check on Sachin first.’

  He knew he could have done that on phone, but felt the urge to go down to Payal’s office again. He also knew that it was not just worry for Sachin that was badgering him to make this trip.

  Thoughts of Reena were back in his head by the time he got into his car and drove off.

  *

  Back at the Satbari farmhouse. Equally frustrated about trying to pick the right politician to protect and irritated at Karunakaran’s unhelpful, almost hostile, attitude, Raghav finally gave up the guesswork and decided to roll the dice. Literally. From the list of possible targets prepared by the CBI, which Karunakaran had passed on to him, Raghav picked the names of six politicians at random, allocated each of them a number and rolled the dice. Twice.

  That’s it. That’s all I can handle.

  He picked up the phone and directed yet another team to move to Chennai and start casing the CM’s residence.

  ‘Be careful of the cops, both of you,’ he reminded them before ending the call. Then he called the last man in his team and told him to come to the farmhouse. ‘We will leave for Willingdon Crescent early in the morning.’