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Word Count : 5350

https://youtu.be/gLPXfmNvgqk

Audio Theme : Tigress Of Paradise | Article 370 |

Target : 120 Votes

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55 | When The Matriarch Took Charge At Midnight

17th May 2023

| 1348 Hours |

|Afternoon|

"Congratulations."

Her voice reverberated against the gigantic walls of the great hall. Hinduja looked on as the smile on her husband's ex-mother-in-law's face slipped off at the rate of knots. Gesturing her hand at one of the meeting chambers, she said, "How about we sit inside first?"

Tamanna breathed in deeply, plastered a plastic smile on her face once again, and nodded her head. "Alright."

As both of them wended their way towards the meeting chamber, Hinduja noticed Geeta walking down the stairs, cradling Anirudh in her arms from her peripheral vision. They had combinedly decided on shifting her to the manor for a few weeks.

"Mamma!" With his soft black curls jiggling around his head, the toddler flailed his arms around in order to come to her.

She smiled as warmth filled her from inside.

Meanwhile, Tamanna Bohra shifted her gaze from Hinduja to her maternal grandson. Her eyes softened down in a split second. "My Grandson!" She cried out, grinning ear to ear while wiping off a tear that had rolled down her left eye.

She strode straight in the direction of stairs and almost snatched the toddler away from Geeta. Peppering kisses all over his chubby face and body, she out of nowhere started sobbing, holding Anirudh close to her body.

The kid, on the other hand scrunched his tiny nose in distaste and didn't exactly look as happy as his maternal grandmother. He was thrashing his legs erratically in the air while making grabbing hands, with his puppy eyes set on his mother.

Hinduja felt the gap between her brows getting knitted together as her gaze shifted from Tamanna holding Anirudh in her embrace to Geeta to Poorna standing nearby. Something felt out of order here, and for some reason it was shrouded in a negative capote in her understanding.

Her hypervigilant senses caused her to heel and toe straight towards Tamanna and heave Anirudh directly out of her hold.

The toddler started giggling instantly, feathering wet kisses all over her visage. And right from Purview, she noticed an unforeseen change in the older woman's demeanor, whether it was the way both her hands balled into fists or the way her eyes turned a shade red and the look in them turned threatening all of a sudden.

Had she been alone, Hinduja wouldn't have cared about the Bohra woman at all, but then the problem was that she was not alone at this point in time. She had something too precious giggling in her arms.

So, raising her guard up, she took a step back.

"Geeta didi." She called out, glancing at the said woman.

"Yes, madam?"

Geeta inched closer to her.

"Have you fed him his lunch?" Hinduja asked, completely turning a blind eye to the woman in white bodycon dress and stilettoes standing a meter away.

"I was taking him to the central dining hall for lunch only." Geeta answered.

"Alright." Kissing the tubby toddler on his forehead, she handed him over to Geeta. "Feed him. I will come in a while."

"Yes, ma'am." Geeta nodded, taking Anirudh away.

Hinduja then settled her eyes on the Bohra woman. "What would you like to have, Mrs. Bohra?"

Her sable pools observed how the slightly crimson sclera of Tamanna Bohra's eyes took back their original color.

"How about some Da-Hong Pao?" The old woman let out a lopsided smile. "Is the pantry of the manor still home to some exquisite Oolong tea? At least it was—" She turned around, resuming her walk to the meeting chamber. "—when Shivalika was around." She stopped on her tracks, next to the door sill of the meeting chamber, about-facing to meet Hinduja's eyes. "Obviously, I don't know how things work out in the manor now that you are here. Do I?" She smirked.

Hinduja glanced at Poorna. "Poorna, do we have Oolong tea in the pantry?"

Poorna shook her head. "No, ma'am."

Hinduja heard a faint chuckle from the direction of the meeting chamber. Her lips curled up feebly. "No problem." She passed a reassuring smile at the housekeeper. "Just bring a cup of normal tea, will you?"

Poorna reciprocated her smile. "Yes, ma'am." She bowed, turned around, and rushed towards the central dining hall.

Hinduja breathed in deeply and wended her way towards the meeting chamber. The moment she crossed the threshold, her eyes landed on Tamanna Bohra, who was settled comfortably on the teak wood leatherite sofa. She was going through an economics magazine.

Clearing her throat, Hinduja sat down on the sofa, right across of the old lady, with her right limb crossing over her left limb and the ends of her linen saree making a graceful touch down around her ankles.

"What's your age?" The old woman asked, her eyes still on the magazine.

"Roughly twenty-six." Hinduja smiled.

"A twenty-six year old middle class woman married to an almost thirty-three year old business class Vieaux riche elite? That too a Dogra?" Stationing the magazine back inside its folder kept on the table, the old woman looked at her, clasping her hands on her lap. "Aren't you a little gold digger, my dear? I mean, yeah, your brother Commander Rao heads a hospital chain, but that's not old money, is it?"

Hinduja's eyes traced the neckline of the woman's bodycon dress, her lips curling up to form a faint smile. "I heard you were nineteen when you married Mr. Bohra. Your father's business was at its lowest at that time, wasn't it? He had even filed the company for bankruptcy, but then you married Mr. Jayachandran Bohra, your now husband, and then suddenly your father's business magically jumped out of the bankruptcy list." She chuckled. "What does that make you then?" She brought her upper body closer to the woman before her, almost whispering the next set of words on to her face, with a mock surprised expression marring her face. "A little gold digger, perhaps?"

Tamanna Bohra tightly gnashed her teeth. "Don't you dare cross your limits, young lady."

"Mrs. Bohra." Hinduja cut her off, her hard tone forming a contrast against the gentle smile lingering on her lips. "I deduce that although you look quite young, you must be in your late fifties or early sixties perhaps? And if I am not wrong, the average life expectancy of women in India was around seventy years in 2022? Right? " She probed. "So, what makes you think that I'll let an old woman like you, who is about to lay down six feet under the ground in around fifteen to twenty years more, to manipulate me?" She licked her lips. "Keep your game of manipulation to yourself. Please don't expect me to play along. I am not a puppet attached to a set of strings, am I?"

Tamanna Bohra rose to her full height in a bat of an eye, the sclera of her eyes turning crimson again along with the menacing look in them. Her entire body was shivering with rage. "Listen, you bitch!" She hurled out loudly. "It won't take me a minute to broadcast the story of your so-called marriage to Mahadevan in front of the media! You bloody don't know me—"

Hinduja smiled ever so lightly. Inching her upper body closer to the Bohra woman, she whispered. "Lekha Tamang."

Tamanna Bohra gasped. Her eyes bulged out of their sockets. She looked visibly shaken just as her face turned pale. Her entire frame shivered even more vigorously like a leaf. "What do you mean?" She mumbled out.

"I meant exactly what you heard, Mrs. Bohra." Hinduja continued to smile. "Lekha Tamang used to work as Shivalika's nanny, right? When she married her husband Prosanta Tamang, she was already pregnant with her daughter Chitra Tamang at that time." With each word that rolled off Hinduja's tongue, Tamanna Bohra turned visibly paler. "Answer me honestly." She took off her right leg from her left one, reposing it comfortably on the sofa. "Was Prosanta really Chitra's biological father? Was she really his biological daughter?"

"How did you come to know all this?!" The older woman whisper-yelled, her mental state taking an unstable turn. She appeared shocked, enraged, anxious, and unsteady all at the same time. "How the fuck did you know all this?!"

Hinduja chuckled. "By the way, Mrs. Bohra, I forgot to add a really important fact." She paused and got up from the sofa. "As it turns out, when Lekha Tamang shifted from the Bohra Mansion to work at the Purohit Villa, for the Purohits, she was pregnant with Chitra. She married Prosanta. Then Chitra was born."

Taking a step closer to Tamanna, she whispered. "Months turned into years, and in no time, little Chitra grew up into a fourteen-year-old teenager, living along with her parents, who worked as servants for the Purohits-Keshav Purohit, Nalini Purohit, and their daughter Kadambini Purohit. Chitra and Kadambini were extremely close; best friends, you see." The smile from Hinduja's face slipped off in a flash. "And then magically, out of nowhere, one fine day, fourteen-year-old Chitra was found two months pregnant with someone's child."

Tamanna Bohra fell down on the sofa with a thud, her hands trembling like a dried leaf.

Hinduja smiled and crouched down in front of her, ready to shoot her last shot. "Do you want to know who the father of that child was?"

The older woman shot up from the sofa in one go, trying to salvage her image, and attempted to scurry out of the meeting chamber in haste.

Just as she was about to step out of the chamber, Hinduja called out. "Mrs. Bohra, on which channel are you going to broadcast the news of our marriage, by the way?"

Tamanaa Bohra turned around and gulped. "I won't. I won't." She shivered. "You have my word. I won't."

Hinduja squared her shoulders, clasping her arms behind her back. "That's exactly how you keep secrets, Mrs. Bohra. What happened between us shall remain between us." She smiled smugly. "Yes?"

The Bohra woman nodded her head strenuously. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Good girl." Hinduja paused. "You can take your leave now."

The older lady dashed out of the chamber into the great hall, and in no time, Hinduja found her rushing out of the main entrance of the Dogra Manor.

Just then, Poorna entered inside with a cup of tea and a glass of water on a tray.

"Mrs. Bohra left already?" She asked, finding only Hinduja in the meeting chamber.

"Yeah, she did." Hinduja replied, coming closer to Poorna.

Poorna, on the other hand, glanced at the porcelain cup filled with tea on the tray. "Who will drink the tea now?"

"What do you mean who will drink the tea?" Hinduja chuckled. "I asked you to get it for me, so obviously I will drink the tea." Saying so, she picked up the cup from the saucer and strolled out of the chamber.

Oblivious to chain of events that had transpired in the meeting room, Poorna shrugged and wended her way back to the central dining hall with the empty tray.

Meanwhile, just as Hinduja stepped closer to the central staircase, she noticed a towering and heavily built shadow on the floor, next to one of the pillars beside the meeting chamber, in the dark corridor.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "You can come out, Dogra Sahib."

The shadow moved faintly, just as the tall and imposing figure of the Dogra patriarch slipped out from behind the pillar.

Hinduja found her husband smirking.

"Stalker." She muttered under her breath.

"Excellent job, by the way." Mahadevan remarked. "Wife," he added.

Hinduja instantly knew what he was talking about. "What can I even say?" She shrugged, placing her right foot on the first step of stairs. "I have been living with a master manipulator for months now. I had to pick up a few of his skills."

Mahadevan laughed, walking in her direction.

"So, you know about the Tamangs?" Hinduja probed, raising her left eyebrow.

Mahadevan smiled feebly and hunched over, positing his lips close to her left ear. "I know things that no one else does." He mouthed.

Hinduja's breath hitched.

The very next second, she felt him nibbling on her earlobe. Her breathing intensified.

"This is not our bedroom." She mumbled, moving away from him.

Mahadevan chuckled. "It won't take me a minute to build one right here. Very convenient, right?"

"Shameless." Came a reply.

Mahadevan licked his lips, his gaze trained on her red earlobe.

"By the way." He said as he followed her on the stairs. "Manoramaa and I both have to leave for Tamil Nadu. I have a meeting there in Lovedale. I might return by midnight."

"Alright." She smiled, just as they stepped up from the last stair of the staircase onto the first floor and advanced towards their bedroom.

***

The sleek black Rolls Royce rolled down smoothly on the Delhi NCT highway with a convoy of luxury sedans moving both ahead of it and behind it-all of them making their journey towards the general aviation terminal facility for private jets.

Inside the black luxury vehicle, Manoramaa Pandit, who was settled on the passenger side seat, went through the details printed on the pages of a file she was holding in her hands.

"I don't think Abraham Sassoon will come." She voiced out, glancing back at her boss, who was settled on the back seat, going through something on his MacBook.

"But Jeremiah will." Mahadevan remarked. "He looks after all the legal affairs in the Sassoon headquarters."

Manoramaa nodded.

Suddenly, a ping sound reverberated in the backside seat of the Rolls Royce. Manoramaa looked on as her boss fished out his burner phone from the inner pocket of his double-breasted blazer. Switching it on, his eyes traced something flashing on its display screen.

"Manoramaa," he called out.

"Yes, sir." She bowed her head ever so lightly.

"You will have to handle this alone. I have to go somewhere else." He commanded. "Abraham won't come, but Jeremiah will. So, handle it accordingly, yeah?"

Manoramaa nodded. "Yes, sir."

***

|1800 Hours|

|Evening|

|Tamil Nadu|

At six p.m. in the evening, the driver maneuvered the car into the premises of the Lawrence Hall, Lovedale in Tamil Nadu. A thin layer of fog along with dark green vegetation and meadows stretching over miles greeted her eyes. It was drizzling.

Her attention then shifted towards the multiple neo-gothic-style school buildings sprawling over a massive 350 acres of land.

The Lawrence Hall, Lovedale-a school for the children of the elitest of the elite. A school from where multiple generations of the Dogra clan had passed out, except her boss.

The driver stopped the car in front of the central library as Manoramaa stepped out into an empty campus owing to the ongoing summer holidays. Her eyes trailed over the finials, lancet windows, and hood molds of the central library shrouded under a capote of fine mist despite the fact that the summer season was in action.

"Who do we have here, eh?"

The sudden auditory intervention caused Manoramaa to shift her attention from the school building to a tall and leanly muscular manly figure standing a few meters away from her. The sun was slowly going down below the horizon of the Earth, resulting in the steady metamorphosis of day into night. She was not exactly able to see the man's face, so she strode in his direction. As it turned out, he was not alone; there was a lady standing behind him.

Manoramaa sized up the man from the top of his head to the tip of his shoes. Garbed in black semi-formals and a pair of Chelsea boots, he was standing with his hands inside his pant pockets. His obsidian eyes clashed against her hazel ones as she traced his facial features, clean shaven yet a soft trail of tiny black facial hair littered around his chin and moustache line, forming a square of stubble around his chin, lips, and the space between his lips and nostrils.

"I know I am a handsome man, lady." He remarked, curbing down a chuckle escaping his lips. "You don't need to stare that much."

The lady beside the man, dressed in a formal black dress, laughed as well.

Manoramaa found herself clenching her jaw in an instant. Taking two steps forward, she calmed herself and forwarded her hand, "Manoramaa Pandit. I am Mr. Mahadevan Dogra's assistant."

The man forwarded his right hand, clasping hers in his own, and did a firm handshake. "Jeremiah Sassoon." He replied, then directed his gaze at the lady standing beside him. "Ms. Sandhya Menon, my assistant."

Manoramaa nodded, detaching her hand from his and directing it towards the lady.

Sandhya shook hands with her, and then they both retracted their hands back, but from her purview, Manoramaa noticed how Sandhya extracted out a pale pink handkerchief from her vanity bag and wiped her right hand using it.

"You see." Jeremiah trailed with a smirk. "She is a little particular about cleanliness." 

That was it.

If there was something that Manoramaa Pandit was highly known for, it was her spontaneous decision-making skills.

She trailed her right hand inside the right side-seam of her formal navy blue kurti, over the hem of her pants, pulled out a pistol, aimed it straight at the kerchief in the lady's left hand, and pulled the trigger from a point blank distance.

A deafening and ear-splitting bang of a pistol shot reverberated in the premises of the Lawrence Hall. A few pigeons and parakeets who were peacefully resting on the branches of some of the trees around, started flying around wildly, letting out alarming chirps, sensing the ear-splitting pistol shot.

"What the fuck!" Sandhya Menon cried out in horror with her eyes wide while examining her left hand in haste.

Jeremiah's wide eyes landed on the pale pink handkerchief lying on the cropped and dewy green grass beneath. It was now sporting a hole in the center with a blackened circumference. His gaze then shifted on to the woman in navy blue kurti standing before him. She was unfazed, staring at them both with a deadpan expression.

He looked on as she fished out a plain white kerchief from the side pocket of her kurti, dropped it intentionally on the grass-filled ground, and placed her converse show-clad foot over it. She then progressed to pick it up from the ground, eventually handing it over to Sandhya.

"Here." He heard her say, her tone firm. "I don't think your hand is injured, but there might be some residues of the gun powder left behind." She paused with a smirk. "This handkerchief might help you in cleaning it."

"That was not needed, lady." He voiced out. "You don't want to end up behind bars, do you?" Taking a step forward, he glared at her.

Sandhya Menon continued to sob in the background, rubbing her left hand over her dress.

"And you don't want your dead body lying on a stretcher, do you?" Manoramaa glowered at Jeremiah.

"Mind your tone." He growled.

"It won't take me more than a second to slit your throat, drain out all your blood, and dump your lifeless body somewhere in the meadows, right here, right this instant." She seethed, grinding her teeth, her voice dripping with venom.

The man inched closer, his midnight black eyes boring into hers. He chuckled in amusement as his lips curled up to form a lopsided smile. "I never knew that the Dogra Patriarch had such a wild feline for an assistant."

"Young Master." Suddenly, a middle-aged man interrupted them. "Madam," he glanced at Manoramaa. Maybe he sensed the tense atmosphere around, and that caused him to swallow. Bowing his head, he voiced out. "The negotiator is here. Mr. Dogra's assistant, Ms. Pandit, is here too. I think we can start with the negotiations regarding the land."

Jeremiah nodded, his coal-black swirls not leaving Manoramaa's hazel ones even for a second. "Alright."

Sandhya Menon looked at the two of them with a sad pout.

***

18th May 2023

| 0015 Hours |

|Midnight|

|Delhi|

Hinduja gently patted on Anirudh's head and rocked him in her lap as he slept peacefully.

Her staunch gaze traced the edges of the Lenovo IdeaPad 2013 model laptop that Bakhtawar had handed over to her around two days ago. She lifted its lid up, ready to switch on the power button.

All of a sudden, bleak darkness graced her eyes. The lights were out. On top of this, Amavasya was going on, so there was no trace of moonlight as well. Shutting back the lid of the laptop, she quickly switched on her phone to turn on the flashlight.

She looked around in confusion as power cut was a situation that never occurred at the manor at all. Clutching the toddler closer to her chest, she got up from the bed and started to walk out of the bedroom.

Just then, her eardrums caught some noise coming from one of the windows. Her senses went into their alert mode as she stealthily made her way towards that particular window.

Tightly holding her son to her chest, she stationed her back against the wall beside the window and looked outside-her gaze eventually landing on the ground.

Five humanly figures garbed in black from head to toe, seemingly men, were rushing towards the grove behind the manor, the dried leaves underneath their feet crackling under their synchronized footfall. She would have thought that they were part of the Dogra security personnel if not for the clothes they were wearing. The Dogra security force had a proper formal uniform after all. And what unsettled her the most were the outlines of the objects in each of their hands-firearms.

Her eyes widened as she pulled out her revolver from underneath her pillow and rushed straight out of the bedroom while placing a call to Poorna.

It took the housekeeper eight rings to answer her call.

"Poorna!" She called out.

All at once, a man appeared in front of her. She trained the flashlight on his face, only to recognize him as one of the security personnel.

"Ma'am," he bowed. "Some unknown intruders with firearms were spotted outside the manor. I am here to escort you to safety."

Keeping the call on hold, she looked at the man and replied, "Where are all the attendants and housekeepers?"

"Ma'am, we don't have time."

"I asked. you. something." She seethed, "Where are all the attendants and housekeepers? Do they know about the intruders?"

"Some of them are inside the manor while the others are in the staff quarters. The ones who are there inside the staff quarters are safe." He replied. "And, no, they don't know about this."

She chuckled mirthlessly. "And you are here to escort me to safety while all of them are out there unsafe?" She gnashed her teeth.

He ducked his head down. "It was an order from Kumar sir."

"I don't care." She shot back. "How many of the attendants are present inside the manor?"

"Sixty of them, ma'am." He answered.

"Alright, what is your name?" She asked.

"My name is Krishna."

"Okay, Krishna." She paused. "Which room in the whole manor has the least number of windows yet good oxygen supply, along with an accommodation size of sixty to sixty-five people?"

Krishna scratched his forehead. "The storage room in the west wing of the manor, ma'am." He suggested.

Hinduja quickly removed the call on her phone from hold, "Poorna!"

"Yes madam!" The lady on the other side answered.

"Where are you at the moment?"

"In the kitchen, ma'am." Poorna answered. "I was making preparations for the breakfast tomorrow morning, but then the lights went out."

Hinduja shifted her attention to Krishna. "How many security professionals are on duty inside and around the manor tonight?"

"Around eighty-five of us are on duty tonight." He trailed. "Some of them are already searching for the intruder while the rest are guarding the manor."

She stepped forward, meeting his eyes. "Then go and ask twenty of them to rush to the kitchen and help the head housekeeper, Ms. Poorna, in evacuating all the attendants to the storage room! Now!"

The man looked at her anxiously under the rays of the flashlight. "But ma'am, I can't leave you and the child alone here."

"What. did. I. ask. you. do Krishna?" Hinduja hurled out in a livid tone.

Krishna gulped and bowed. "As you wish, madam." He rushed straight in the direction of the staircase under her watchful eyes.

"Poorna." She glanced at the display screen of her phone.

"Yes madam!"

"In around five minutes more, some twenty guards will reach the kitchen. According to my knowledge, some sixty attendants, including yourself, are in the manor currently, right?"

"Right madam!"

"When the security professionals reach the kitchen, help them in finding all sixty of you. Men, women and even the children of the attendants!" She ordered. "All of them! Escort them all into the storage room in the west wing of the manor. Ask them to put their phones on silent, but the mobile data should be switched on! Alright?"

"Okay madam!" The housekeeper blurted out fretfully. "But what is the matter?"

"Will explain later. Just do as I say for now!"

She directed the housekeeper and then cut the call. Running directly in the direction of the majestic central staircase, she descended down the stairs. Her gaze dropped down and landed on the toddler sleeping in her embrace. Her eyes softened and her throat constricted. Feathering a kiss on the crown of his head, she straightened her back, stepped down from the last step of the staircase, and rushed towards the west wing.

On the way, she found a small group of men and women dressed in servant uniforms wending their way towards her. Heading them all, was Geeta, who was clothed in a salwar-kameez.

"Where are the rest?" Hinduja asked.

"Poorna and some of the guards have already evacuated them all into the storage room. We are the last batch!" Geeta responded.

"Alright." Hinduja breathed in. "You all hurry up too."

Nodding her head, Geeta ran to the storage room along with her, followed by the others.

Just as they reached and stepped inside the pitch-black storage room devoid of any light, Hinduja heard multiple anxious voices mixed with a few wails. Training the flashlight on the people inside the storage room, she counted them all, one by one.

Eventually, finishing the count, she sighed, her eyes landing on the armed security professionals trying to calm down the mass.

"Geeta." She called out.

Geeta looked back at her.

Handing the chubby little toddler in her arms to her, she gulped. "Keep my child safe." She paused, her eyes tearing up. "Keep him safe at all costs."

Geeta looked on worriedly and nodded, cradling Anirudh in her arms. His sleepy form stirred up a little bit due to the noise around. "I will."

Hinduja nodded, caressing her son's back softly.

Then, directly with her eyes on the security professionals in the storage room, she voiced out. "How many bulletproof vests are available in the manor currently?"

"We don't have a proper count, madam, but roughly one-fifty something." One of the men replied.

Hinduja nodded her head once. "Alright." Pointing her finger at the attendants, she said. "Make each one of them wear one."

"Yes madam!" Krishna rejoined.

Just then, her gaze landed on a herd of the Dogra security men hurrying towards the storage room, she was standing inside.

The man in front of them all, bowed. "I am Niranjan Kumar, ma'am. I take charge of the security team whenever Karim sir, Manoramaa madam, or Gurung are not around."

"Mr. Kumar, I want to see all the manor attendants and all of your men in bulletproof vests as soon as possible." She instructed.

"We will do that, madam. No problem in that." He said. "But we need to escort you to safety first."

"I am safe." Her tone was curt. "And while these people will stay back here, I will go outside the manor with you."

Niranjan's eyes widened at the drop of a hat. "But madam, the protocol—"

Hinduja raised her hand, signaling him to stop. "In case Mr. Dogra is not around, who is supposed to step up as the second in command in his absence at the time of an emergency, according to the protocols of the Dogra manor?" She stepped forward, her voice stern and her back ramrod straight.

Niranjan glanced at the men behind him. Then bowing his head, he replied. "In case the Dogra patriarch is not present at the time of an emergency, the Dogra matriarch shall take charge."

Hinduja smiled faintly. "I believe you are addressing me as the matriarch?"

Niranjan nodded. "Yes."

"Then," She glanced back and pointed her finger at the attendants. "That makes them all my children. Am I correct?"

"Yes ma'am." Niranjan gulped.

"Then, here is a decree." Hinduja ordered. "I want all my children safe at all costs. They will stay inside the storage room until everything gets back to normal, while I will go with you to check the situation outside." She locked her arms behind her back. "Clear?"

"Crystal!" Multiple voices echoed in the west wing of the manor, while the men bowed their heads all at once.

Roughly a minute later, Hinduja caressed her son's face for one last time, gulped the lump forming in her throat, and turned around to walk out of the storage room.

The doors were shut close in a second as five of the men positioned themselves in front of the massive metal barrier of the storage room.

"Ask ten of them to hurry out of the manor and surround the storage room from outside." She instructed, and Niranjan immediately hurled out a few orders into the walkie-talkie in his hand.

"What is wrong with the electricity supply, by the way?" She probed, marching towards the main entrance, which was part of the great hall, while being followed by the guards.

"Someone has toyed with the main supply, madam. I have already sent some of the men to check the electricity situation." Niranjan replied.

"Alright." Hinduja nodded, stepping out of the entrance.

"Your vest, madam," Niranjan handed out a Kevlar vest to her.

Securing it tightly around her upper body, she said, "I have a revolver, but I still need a pistol." She met his eyes and promptly switched off the flashlight light on her phone. "Do you have an extra one?"

Niranjan nodded. "Yes ma'am" He handed a pistol to her.

Tucking her revolver inside the bulletproof vest, she examined the pistol under the dim rays of the emergency light that one of the guards was holding.

"Okay." She paused and traipsed her eyes over the mass. "How many of them are present here in total?"

"Twenty of them are already searching around for the intruders. Fifteen of them are guarding the storage room while five of them have gone to examine the main supply." Niranjan recounted. "So, forty-five of them are present here as of now, including me."

"Ten towards the east, ten towards the west, ten towards the north, and ten of them, including you, Mr. Kumar, will check the areas in the southern direction." She voiced out. "Three of them will stay here in front of the main entrance, and two of them will accompany me to the grove behind the manor. Yeah?"

"Yes, ma'am." Niranjan Kumar adhered to her command.

"On the count of 3!" She roared.

"2!"

"1!"

"Move!"

Under the bleak darkness of the new moon night, one woman and forty-five men stealthily charged in the direction of their respective allocated locations, one step at a time.

***

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