Brutal (18 page)

Read Brutal Online

Authors: Uday Satpathy

BOOK: Brutal
11.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
52

R
aman’s phone
started to ring again. It was Sultan this time.

“Where are you Raman?”

“I am near Mehrauli. This trio is making me drive around the whole city.”

“Pull over.”

“I guess you didn’t hear me. I’m right on the tail of these three bastards. You don’t want me to lose them, do you?”

“I said pull over right now,” Sultan ordered. “Let the back-up team pick you up.”

Raman was exasperated.
Fuck Sultan. He’s been forcing me to make one mistake after another.

“I’m not pulling over. Let your team catch up with my car first.”

“I respect your skills a lot Raman. Don’t make me lose that respect. Do what I say,” Sultan growled.

“OK.” Raman said, clenching his fist in anger.

“And don’t you dare defy my orders again,” his boss said before closing their conversation.

Asshole. Fight me one-on-one and I’ll show you who’s boss.

He told the driver to stop the car and got out of it. In a few minutes, a black Tata Safari pulled over in front of him. Its driver gestured him to move in. He ran and got in quickly. The team leader was sitting right beside him.

“What’s going on, Patil?” Raman complained. “Why did Sultan stop the chase?”

“I’ll tell you. But first have a look at this,” the team leader said, pointing towards the boot of the SUV.

Raman looked behind. In a moment, his anguish faded away. He was looking at his weapons kit.

53

S
eema ran
over to her window when she heard the sound of a vehicle getting into the hotel compound. Through the window glass, she saw three men come out of the car. One of them was Prakash. She felt elated to see a known face after so long.

Seema waited with bated breath for a knock on her door. What must’ve been about ten minutes, felt like an hour! And when she finally heard the knock, she ran over to the door and opened it. Prakash was standing outside.

Seema stepped forward, intending to hug him tightly and cry her heart out, but her sobriety did not allow for it. Prakash came in and took her hands in his. His eyes reflected the same pain she had in hers.

“You look so… frail,” Prakash said looking into her eyes, his voice almost a whisper.

“Never knew they would kidnap me,” Seema said, choked up. Her eyes were teary. “I should’ve known.”

“When our story is out, these bastards will have nowhere to hide.”

Seema nodded and wiped her eyes. Her gaze moved towards the other two men standing behind her friend.

Prakash turned around and said, “Meet Mrinal Dutta and Kunal Chaubey,” pointing towards them one by one.

Though Seema already knew that one of them was Kunal, she was still unable to hide her astonishment. “Kunal Chaubey!” she said with a strange thrill in her voice. “You’ve been lost for eight years.”

“Now I’m back to haunt them,” he said, nodding. “How did you end up in Bandhavgarh, by the way?”

“Long story. Do you know Dr Kalyan Ghosh?”

“Did he send you on this chase?” Kunal asked with surprise. “Where is he nowadays? I want to meet him.”

“He is dead,” Seema replied, stone-faced. “Beheaded by these criminals.”

Kunal closed his eyes in sorrow.

Before Seema could say anything, she saw Divakar at the door. He looked at all of them with curiosity. She introduced him to them.

“It’s quite interesting to hear that two reporters who know each other so well and were working on the same case, ventured out into two different directions and yet came together by fate,” Divakar said with a grin.

“I should thank you for bringing us all together,” Seema said with excitement. “We have a couple of eyewitnesses now and a man who knows how they function internally. Fit these things together and we have a story.”

She noticed a frown on Prakash’s face. His forehead was creased. Since the moment she introduced Divakar to him, he appeared lost in his thoughts.
What is bothering you?

Divakar took out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and passed it around. Mrinal took one. He now pulled out a lighter, gave it to Mrinal and started walking towards the window.

“I think we need a laptop with Internet connection to document everything we know,” he said, sliding the windowpane and letting fresh air in. “I have one in my room. Let me bring it in.”

“That’s great. It seems you are prepared with a lot of things already,” Prakash said with sarcasm. “You can be our most important source, you know why?”

“Why?” Divakar asked.

“Because I think all of us know only about the incidents which have happened with us. We don’t have any names. But you’ve been inside their organization. You must’ve met people, seen them doing bad things. Why don’t you give me a name? This man…” Prakash said pointing towards Mrinal, “… can dig out some really nice dirt about people.”

Mrinal shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

Divakar didn’t answer. With an uneasy face, he looked at Seema for some support, but found only questioning eyes staring back at him.

“Who did you take orders from, Divakar?” Prakash interrogated again.

“I don’t know his name. We used aliases,” Divakar replied.

“How did you get into their organization?” Prakash pushed him further.

Seema looked at Prakash.
What’s he doing?

“IB got me in. They have been tracking this organization since long.”

“Who in IB?” Prakash barked.

Divakar was getting worked up. He spat, “What the fuck is this? 20 questions?”

Prakash pressed him further. “I asked you a simple question. Who in IB helped you get inside?”

Seema decided to cool things off. “I guess it was an Ex-IB Joint Director. A. K. Rastogi, if I’m not wrong.” She looked at Divakar for approval.

“Hey, hey, hey! Why are you guys so interested in my past?” Divakar said. “Seema, I think you should tell your smartass buddy that we’re all on the same side here. OK? I don’t like someone questioning me like that.”

Seema made an apologetic face, but Divakar ignored her and began fidgeting with his mobile phone, not looking up.

Prakash was in no mood to relent, though. “Mrinal, why don’t you go and look up this man called A.K. Rastogi. Let’s check out who this man is,” Prakash said loud enough for Divakar’s ears. “I hope our friend here can help you with his laptop.”

“What is all this?” Divakar yelled. “I thought we were all here to tie up loose ends and build an airtight case against this organization. What you’re doing is digging up dirt about me!”

“Because I think you’re hiding something from us! And I have to find out what it is. Mrinal, go!”

Mrinal started walking towards the door. But, he had taken hardly a few steps when Divakar grabbed his shirt collar and shoved him back with force.

Seema cried, “Divakar!”

“Shut up, bitch! I am done tolerating you guys.” Divakar took out his pistol from the small of his back.

But before he could point it at anyone, Prakash jumped at him like a tiger. He caught his weapon with his left fist and thrust his right shoulder into his chest in a rugby-style tackle. Both of them crashed on the floor, Prakash lying on top of Divakar. Mrinal kicked the latter’s right hand with all his might, flinging his pistol away.

“Motherf…” Divakar raised his head up and slammed it into Prakash’s nose.

Ahhh. The reporter shrieked, blood dripping from his nose. Before he could recover, Divakar hit him again on the same point with his head. Awww. In agony, Prakash rolled down his chest and lay flat on the ground.

Divakar took out his mobile phone while still lying on the floor. He dialled a number, smirked and said loudly, addressing everyone in the room, “Meet you in another world, buddies. Good bye!”

Kunal, who had been standing at a corner and watching the proceedings till now with caution, understood what was going to happen. “It’s an ambush!” he yelled and charged at Divakar.

But, before he could reach him, there was a loud boom. He yelped and fell on the floor like a dead pigeon. His head bore a golf ball sized hole, blood gushing out from it in torrents. He was dead.

“There’s a fucking sniper outside!” Prakash screamed, holding his nose. He was pointing at the window opened some time back by Divakar.

Everyone got down on all fours as a barrage of gunfire erupted from outside. The bullets smashed through the windows and struck the walls, dropping chunks of glass, plaster and cement all over.

Seema was too stunned to react. She looked around in panic. Mrinal lay in a foetal position below one of the windows, clutching his head. Divakar had taken up a crawling position resembling a soldier in a trench.
Bastard.

Prakash was crouching on the floor behind a chair. He gestured to Seema, indicating that he was about to attack Divakar. Carefully avoiding the line of fire, he picked up the chair and smacked it with full force on Divakar’s head. Thakk! There was loud thud – the sound of a cracking skull.

Divakar cried and rolled over, writhing in pain. He was facing Prakash. Blood streamed into his eyes, making him shake his head to clear his vision. He was losing consciousness. In a few seconds, he slumped over the floor, lying in his own blood.

“We have to run!” Prakash yelled.

Book 3
54

R
aman was crouching
on the terrace of an under-construction building, only half a kilometre away from Acacia Inn. A plume of smoke curled out of the barrel of his Dragunov SVD long range rifle. It had pumped seven rounds into a window on the Inn’s third floor just now. He counted only one hit however, quite unhappy with the way things had gone here.

Firstly, he was upset not being told in advance about this ambush.
Sultan. Son-of-a-bitch. You knew where this trio was going, but still kept me in the dark.

The second problem was that he had got a very small timeframe to reconnoitre the area and locate a vantage point to take the shot. The under-construction building was the only place he could find in a hurry. Although the structure was not completely deserted, he decided to use it, taking the grave risk of being noticed by people. The rooftop was splattered with moist lime, cement and plaster. It made him rule out a ‘prone’ position for sniping, the one in which the shooter lies flat on his chest. He couldn’t afford to leave clues for the police. Besides, he knew that the prone position wouldn’t give him a clear view of the target. The ‘kneeling’ position would have to do.

His compromises didn’t end there. The original plan was that Sultan’s agent Divakar would keep conversing with the targets till the trap was closed around them. A ground team would have surrounded the hotel while Raman had them in the crosshairs of his Dragunov. At Divakar’s phone call, the ambush would have begun.

But, things did not happen that way. Even before the ground team could reach the hotel and surround it, he received a call on his mobile phone. It was a green signal, which meant he had to shoot. He complied.

Raman pondered over the two options in front of him: either remain put, watching over the targets in the hope of taking them down if they came into view; or rush out and support the ground team. He wanted to go for the first one, but then recalled he was not in a safe place.
These bloody construction workers can remember my face.
Even the police could trap him in the construction zone.

He looked through the rifle scope for one last time. The crosshairs brushed past a TV and the top of a cupboard inside the hotel room.
No movement of people. So, no use sitting here.
He disassembled his rifle quickly and ran downstairs.

55


O
h my God
! This was a fucking trap all along,” Seema screamed. “That’s why I could escape so easily. They let me go!”

“And they lured us in. To ambush us together,” Prakash said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Seema sobbed and moved her eyes towards Kunal’s mangled body. Lying in a puddle of pulpy mass, his head looked smaller than before, as if his skull had caved in. She closed her eyes in disgust.

“Our main witness is dead!” she grunted. “I’ve put you guys in danger too.”

Mrinal interjected in panic, “Hey people, we can do the talking and crying later. Let’s get the hell out of here first. I don’t want to get cooked in this gunfire.”

“Our escape won’t be easy,” Prakash said with a grim face. “We might be surrounded.”

“Yesssss… you are surr…oun…ded.”

All three of them looked towards Divakar. He was lying on the ground with unmoving eyes pointed at the roof.

Prakash turned his head 180 degrees, his eyes looking for the pistol Mrinal had kicked away. It was lying aligned with the wall, buried in a pile of cement and plaster. He picked it up, pointed it at Divakar and snapped, “How many men?”

Divakar didn’t say anything. He just gave a smirk. His face was a bloody mess from the deep gash caused by the hit from the chair. Blood was dripping from his head onto the floor.

“Tell me you son-of-a-bitch. How many men have come for the hunt?” Prakash shifted the gun to his left hand and punched him hard on his face. The force was so strong that his hand began to ache.

Divakar’s lower lip was cut badly. He groaned in pain and replied, “Seven… maybe eight.”

Prakash thought for a few moments. He got an idea. Looking around, he found Divakar’s mobile lying nearby. He picked it up and said, “You’re going to call your men from your mobile and tell them that we’ve escaped. You got me? You need to send them on a wild goose chase.”

Divakar shook his head in refusal.

Prakash got agitated. This man was wasting precious time. The attackers could rush in any moment. Gritting his teeth in anger, he thrust the pistol’s barrel into Divakar’s mouth. “You say ‘no’ once more and I swear to God, I’ll put a bullet in your head.”

Seeing a faint glimpse of fear in his eyes, Prakash looked at the list of dialled numbers in the mobile. The last two numbers belonged to men named Raman and Patil.

“Who should I call? Raman or Patil?” Prakash roared. He removed the barrel from Divakar’s mouth, taking care not to press the trigger.

“Patil,” Divakar said, gasping for breath.

Prakash dialled Patil’s number and handed over the mobile phone to him. “Tell him that we escaped through the backside wall.”

Divakar kept lying on the floor while he took the call.

“Patil… No, only one is dead… The remaining three have escaped! … No, I am not in pursuit. One of them injured me badly… Rush into the road behind the hotel. I think they have jumped over the backside wall… Tell Raman also… No, I don’t need any help now. Deep Alpha,” he talked into the phone and then hung up.

“You sure they aren’t coming here?” Prakash asked.

“No,” Divakar said, losing breath. “They… they may still decide to come here.”

Prakash looked at Seema and Mrinal and said, “Time to run.”

“What if the sniper is still waiting for us to raise our heads?” Seema asked, pointing towards the smashed window.

Prakash nodded in agreement, turning his head towards the door of the room, “We won’t raise our heads, in that case.”

Other books

Part of Me by A.C. Arthur
Killing Hitler by Roger Moorhouse
Tough Enough by M. Leighton
Dead Canaries Don't Sing by Cynthia Baxter
Blood Silence by Roger Stelljes
72 Hours (A Thriller) by Moreton, William Casey