Weapon of Vengeance (18 page)

Perhaps he still misses Mom.

How could it be? Mom could not have lied to me about all this … could she?

“
I realized I had not even introduced myself.”

*   *   *

“I am Ravinder.” It was only at the hospital that I said that to her. Zahira was off being tended to by the doctor. “Ravinder Singh Gill,” he expanded, his tone soft. He spoke the clean, pristine Queen's English, a hallmark of most top-notch Indian public schools. His gaze fixed unblinkingly on Rehana, as if looking away would be unthinkable.

“Rehana,” she replied, taking his proffered hand.

Ravinder was happily oblivious of his having latched on to it, like a Crusader who had chanced upon the Holy Grail.

She gave him a sharp look, which softened into an amused glance as she realized there was no malice in the man hanging on to her hand. The adoring look Ravinder bestowed upon her was starting to unsettle her, but in a
good
way. Rehana realized that she … yes, she liked it.

“My hand,” Rehana pointed out softly with a smile.

Puzzled, he looked at down at it. “Oh!” he said feeling embarrassed. “I did not…” Then he ran out of words. After a few false starts, he repeated, “I am Ravinder Singh Gill.”

“Yes, you told me.” She smiled back, mischievously now. She was beginning to enjoy the moment. “I am Rehana.”

“Rehana,” he repeated. “It is a lovely name. I like it.” He again realized what he had said and turned red. “What does it mean?”

“You should know. You're an Indian.”

“How did you know?” He realized it was a dumb question and turned redder.

Rehana smiled, giving his turban a pointed look. “You guys are everywhere.”

“Yes.” He laughed. “I guess we do get around.”

“And how. I don't think the Brits had any idea when they quit India that you guys planned to follow them home … and take their jobs.”

This time both laughed.

“So? What does ‘Rehana' mean?”

“It means a handful of sweet basil.”

“Basil? Hmm … I like basil.”

“Do you, now?”

Of course, Rehana did not know it then, but in the coming days he'd latched on to her, making no bones about his intention to woo her.

Rehana
loved
it. For once, there was a person who had no agenda but to pivot his existence around her. Walks in the park, trips to the theater, lunches and dinners and, of course, soon stolen kisses and long, fevered hugs. He swept her off her feet.

Anyone who met Ravinder in those days would not have believed that just days ago he had been a dedicated and hardworking law student. His parents, who with heavy heart had sent their firstborn to London, would have been aghast.

For him too, it was a new emotion he was experiencing. He'd had his crushes before, but nothing close to this.

For both of them, everything was perfect. Even the London weather was behaving.

To the chagrin of her uncle and confusion of her aunt, Ravinder became a fixture in their lives. They were irritated by the unabashed attention he was giving to their niece. That he was not a Muslim bothered them, but not overly. And that he was a well-brought-up young man from a family of means did not escape their attention either. But what was most confusing was that their niece became an absolutely new person. Usually withdrawn and taciturn, Rehana was now unable to stop smiling. Zahira was blown away to find her helping with the housework and being pleasant about it too.

But the uncle worried. “Don't you realize what a responsibility it is for us?”

“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.