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Word Count : 3700

Target : 120

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44 | Four Oranges And Pieces Of Cotton

16th May 2023

| 2000 Hours |

"That land surrounding Lawrence Hall in Lovedale?" He looked up from the file on the table to meet Karim's eyes.

"Yes, Sahib." Karim nodded. "Yakub Sassoon has his eyes on it."

Mahadevan clasped his fingers together on his lap, with his right limb crossing over his left limb. "Obviously he will." He trailed thoughtfully, staring at the file.

"But there is something else that we have just dug out." Karim remarked.

"What?"

"Other than Abraham Sassoon, who is his older son, Yakub Sassoon has another child." Karim replied. "Jeremiah Sassoon."

"Interesting." 

Karim noticed a smirk taking over his boss's face. "Yes." He paused. "While Abraham is around thirty-one, Jeremiah is twenty-nine, two years his elder brother's junior."

"And?" Mahadevan tapped the index and middle fingers of his right hand twice on the table surface.

"We still don't have any information about Abraham at all, leaving aside his picture, age, and nationality. Maybe because he has lived most of his life in the UK, leaving aside a few years of his early childhood." Karim voiced out. "He holds British citizenship, and he is mostly seen inside the Sassoon headquarters."

"What about Yakub and Jeremiah then?" Mahadevan got up from his chair and strolled towards the window.

"Yakub and Jeremiah are both Indian nationals. If I am not wrong, Asherah Sassoon, Yakub's mother, holds Indian citizenship too. And the most absorbing part of all is that Yakub, Abraham, and Asherah might have returned back to India recently, but Jeremiah came to India at the age of eighteen. He has done both his undergrad and postgrad in law from the National Law School, with his hands deep inside both corporate and criminal law sectors as of now. Almost eleven years; that's how long he has been in the country. There are sources that even say that Jeremiah had some background in kickboxing as well."

"Has been living in the country for almost eleven years now and has had a background in kickboxing." The space between Mahadevan's eyebrows knitted together.

"Yes, Sahib."

"Then how didn't he come under our radar until now?" Mahadevan probed again.

Karim scratched his chin in deep thought. "Maybe because we never knew that Yakub Sassoon had another son."

"But then that makes it even more illogical." Mahadevan interjected. "All along, we thought that Yakub Sassoon was out of India for the last ten years. Now, we are coming to know that he has another son who has been living in India for the last eleven years. Moreover, Abraham holds British nationality. All of these things simply don't add up at all and clearly indicate that Yakub, Asherah, Abraham, and Jeremiah, all four of them, left the country long ago. Not ten years, but more than that; much more than that. Then some time later, Jeremiah returned in 20—?" He glanced at Karim, signaling him to add the last two digits.

"2012, sahib." Karim added.

"Exactly." Mahadevan seized his hands behind his back, his gaze fixated on something outside the window. "Anyway, when are you leaving for Dehradun?" He turned around.

"I have a flight tomorrow afternoon," Karim answered.

"Alright." He inched closer to his work table, pulled out one of the drawers, and fished out a dark wooden box shaped in the form of a cuboid. Passing it on to the man before him, he said. "This is for Asiya."

Karim shook his head. "There is no need for this."

"Take it." He ordered. "I have held the kid when she was younger. She might still remember me."

Karim sighed and nodded his head, resigning to his boss's order. "Thank you."

"We will have to look into the Lawrence Hall land matter soon." Mahadevan said instead.

"Yes." The chief of security adjoined.

Pushing back the drawer inside, Mahadevan faced him. "I was actually thinking about shifting back to the manor for the upcoming few weeks. I don't think it would be safe to live here—"

Before he could finish the sentence, two faint knocks rapped against the door.

"Enter."

Mahadevan looked on as the doorknob rotated and his wife stepped inside. Locking the door behind her, she took two steps forward. She glanced at the man standing next to him and then fixated her gaze on him, the facial expressions, as always impassive.

He came forward. "What happened?"

"I had something to discuss." Came a crisp reply. Then she took a look at his chief of security once again. "I deduce that Karim bhai knows a lot of things, so there is nothing to hide." She paused.

Karim smiled, training his gaze on the Dogra matriarch. No other woman in the whole damn cosmos, in his view, could uphold the position she wore the crown of, like she did.

"I was thinking about shifting back to the manor for the coming few weeks. I don't think it would be safe for us to live here. Especially Anirudh." Hinduja announced in one go, clasping her hands behind her lower back.

In a trice, the president and chief of security duo glanced at each other and ducked their heads down in an attempt to hide their smiles.

Hinduja observed the exchange between the two men.

"Alright," Mahadevan replied. "We will shift back to the Dogra manor early in the morning tomorrow."

Passing one crisp nod, Hinduja promptly turned around and strode straight out of her husband's home office.

"She thinks exactly like you." Karim remarked, still wearing a faint smile.

"Matriarch of the Dogra empire for a reason." Wending his way back to his table, Mahadevan drummed his fingers on the wooden surface. "But I would beg to differ here." His eyes met Karim's. "She doesn't think exactly like me. Rather, she thinks two steps ahead of me." His lips tugged up as his earthy irises gleamed. "And I have no qualms or shame in admitting that the queen is smarter than every other piece behind her, beside her and in front of her in this game of chess."

Karim chuckled, "As you say, Sahib." He bowed.

***

17th May 2023

0600 Hours

Hinduja cradled the tubby frame of her sleeping son to her chest as Mahadevan unbolted the door of the car for her. She carefully settled inside.

Meanwhile, the chauffeur loaded their luggage bags into the boot of the black Rolls-Royce Phantom and shut it back. Mahadevan took a round around the rear end of the car and settled inside as Karim opened the door for him.

Shortly after, Karim uttered a command on the transceiver he was holding in his left hand while his tactical leather glove-clad right hand rested on the holster fastened to his waist with the help of a belt.

Some fifty armed security personnel decked out in black formal ensembles and Kevlar vests underneath, all erect on their feet, adjacent to a fleet of Mercedes Maybach S 650 Guards, ahead of and behind the Rolls Royce, swiftly opened the car doors and got inside.

Karim then himself slid into the passenger-side seat of the car in which his boss was settled, with the chauffeur stepping into a car just behind them. The very next second Mahadevan tipped his chin as Karim turned around to meet his eyes.

A set of orders by the chief of security echoed on the transceiver, and immediately after, the entire convoy of luxury sedans came to life.

"Karim," Mahadevan called.

Hinduja looked on as the chief of security about-faced, while she continued to pat the back of the toddler in her embrace soothingly.

"Roll up the partition."

Karim briskly turned around and pressed a switch on the dashboard.

All of a sudden, a black-colored opaque barrier rose up from somewhere downwards to form a partition between the front two seats and the rear seats.

Hinduja's eyes enlarged up to some degrees witnessing the partition.

Her whole frame shivered as she heard a deeply bassed whisper in her right ear. "Come closer."

She turned her head to her left side, only to see the man sitting beside her, dragging himself in close proximity to her.

"I said come closer." She heard him repeating the same command again.

Her right hand balled up into a tight fist as she moved closer to him. She sensed his left hand trailing ever so slowly from behind her lower back and reposing itself on her bare waist.

She shut her eyes close, questioning her decision to wear a saree early in the morning.

"So?" The grip of his palm on her waist tightened as he heaved her closer. "Am I the one? Huh?"

He breathed into her ears as his smoldering gaze trailed across her lips, from the oral commissures at the corners to the arches of the cupid's bow.

"The only man who dares to draw you this close? Who dares to touch you? And the only man who dares to rule you?"

She gulped. Her whole frame quivered as heat flooded her face. Night against Earth, he held her gaze along with his own.

"Yes."

An answer followed.

Positing his chin next to her right ear, he bit her earlobe.

She hissed.

"That's the right response." He mumbled, tracing his nose from the helix of her ear to the base of her neck, eventually biting onto her right clavicle.

She hissed again, glancing at the sleeping toddler and then at the partition ahead. "Please don't do—"

The bite on her clavicle turned harsher. She somehow subdued the hiss, trying to leave her mouth.

"Only if you knew what's going inside my mind." He mouthed, his left hand leaving her waist and stationing itself softly on her left shoulder.

Her eyes almost popped out of their sockets after hearing his words and comprehending the innuendo.

"How is the wound?" He asked, kissing her temple. "Healing well?" He paused, feathering a kiss on her cheek. "I didn't even get to know when you went to the hospital to get it redressed. Why didn't you call me before going?"

She gulped as her back arched. "Don't worry." She breathed in. "It's healing well. There is no problem at all."

He nodded, reposing his head on her right shoulder, almost shoving his head into the crook of her neck.

"The next time you have any problem with your car, you'll call me." He ordered.

She sighed. "You know we can't take that risk for the time being."

"I repeat, you'll call me if you face any problem with your mode of transport from now on." His voice turned stern. "As for how I am going to pick you up without rousing any suspicion, that's my headache. Clear?"

She nodded just as the toddler in her arms let out a short fart, causing his pants and the diaper underneath to rumble.

Mahadevan looked at his son. "This idiot." He muttered.

Hinduja chuckled.

"When are his reports going to come, by the way?" She asked while stroking her son's pinkish plump cheeks. He moaned. "Mamma"

Hinduja kissed his forehead.

"Most probably by the end of the day." Mahadevan replied, cozily wrapping his hands around her waist, with his head in the crook of her neck and eyes slowly shutting close.

Around two and a half hours later, Karim dropped Hinduja some ten meters away from the main gates of the Sub-Divisional Magistrate's office building in an old white, almost deformed Indica.

Getting out of the car, Hinduja took a look at the dent-laden and deformed white automobile, her husband's idea to not garner any suspicion or attention.

She sighed, letting out a faint laugh.

"Thank you, Karim bhai." She smiled.

The man bowed faintly from the driver seat. "I'll take my leave then." He paused. "But at what time, should I come back to pick you up?"

"I'll take a cab from here after an hour because I have to go somewhere else as well." She replied.

"But Sahib said that—" Karim interjected.

"Don't worry." She interrupted him in between. "I'll explain it to him later."

Hesitation lingered in the middle-aged man's eyes, yet he nodded at the end. "Alright."

Hinduja smiled as Karim keyed into the ignition. She looked on as the white Indica slowly disappeared into nothingness in the distance.

She then marched straight into the sub divisional magistrate's office.

Witnessing her striding inside, the peon shot up from his seat. "Ram Ram, madam ji."

"Ram Ram." She greeted back. "Is Bakhtawar Sahab inside?"

"Yes, madam ji." The peon affirmed. "There is another man inside with him as well."

Hinduja nodded and started weaving her way into her office.

"Chai Bhijwaaun, madam ji?" The peon asked.

"Let it be." She responded by showing her left palm while gyrating the knob of her office door with her right hand. Giving it a gentle push, she entered inside.

Closing the door behind her back, she assessed the backs of two males settled on the visiting chairs. Maybe they sensed her presence because immediately after, Bakhtawar got up from his seat, following which the unknown man got up as well.

Moving closer to the table, she pulled her chair and settled on it.

"Good morning," Bakhtawar greeted. Hinduja's staunch gaze sized up the short-statured yet stout man standing next to him. "Good morning, ma'am." He followed up with a greeting as well.

She noticed how the end of his whiskers moved along with the air he was exhaling out as he spoke.

"Morning." She voiced out. "Sit down."

Both of them sat down in one go.

"What's your name?" She asked, directing her gaze at the name.

"Bhanu Pratap Khan," he shot back.

Her brows immediately shot up as the space between them got scrunched together. "Bhanu Pratap Khan?"

He licked his lips. "My father was a Muslim and my mother a Hindu. Together they named me Bhanu Pratap Khan."

Bakhtawar chuckled.

Hinduja narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes ma'am." He smiled sheepishly while scratching his neck, his cheeks turning red.

"Anyway." She sighed. "Have you got all the things ready, Bakhtawar?" She turned her attention to Bakhtawar.

"Yes ma'am." He replied.

"Then what are you waiting for?" She corrected the position of her specs. "Go, get dressed." She added directing her forefinger at the washroom attached to her office.

Bakhtawar cleared his throat, clearly awkward. "The thing is..." He gulped.

"What?" Hinduja asked, a little irritated.

Bakhtawar glanced at Bhanu Pratap just as he looked at him. "We don't know how to wear sarees."

Eyes wide at the latest piece of news, Hinduja clicked her tongue. "Didn't I ask you to learn it from YouTube?"

"We tried." Bakhtawar ducked down his head, not meeting her eyes. "But we are still not able to get it right."

"Oh my God," the civil servant exhaled in irritation. "Just wear it however you are able to. If at all I see any glitch, I will help you to correct it." She paused. "Okay?"

Both the men turned their heads around to look at each other once again and then nodded. "Okay."

Twenty minutes down the line, the washroom door unlatched as two figures slowly walked out of the washroom, one tall and the other stout.

Decked up like two women, with dark red and green colored sarees draped in a disorganized manner around their bodies and some white beaded chains around their necks, the two men walked out. Their respective skulls were covered with wigs, which were trussed into buns, while the bases of the wigs were aligned with each of their hairlines. Dark red and large round bindis graced both of their foreheads.

Hinduja smiled. "Good." But, immediately after, her eyes narrowed as her gaze traveled to  Bhanu Pratap's slightly protruding belly, which sported a large mass of curly black hair. She then raised her gaze to assess his whiskers and Bakhtawar's moustache and beard as well.

Pointing her finger at Bhanu's belly, she ordered. "Shave that jungle." She then directed her finger at his whiskers and Bakhtawar's moustache and beard. "The moustaches and the beard too."

Horror struck Bakhtawar as he touched his moustache. "No way."

Bhanu Pratap Khan lowered his head to look at his belly. He slowly stroked it sadly.

"Yes way!" Hinduja imposed.

She then pulled open one of the drawers of her table and slammed a men's shaving kit on it. "Now!"

Bhanu Pratap Khan glanced at Bakhtawar. "Let's get done with it, Hussain Bhai."

Bakhtawar on the other hand, touched his moustache, making a miserable face.

"Neither a Star plus serial is going on here." Hinduja remarked with a sigh. "Nor am I your vamp mother-in-law. So, go now! We don't have the whole day."

Exhaling out, Bhanu walked forward to fetch the shaving kit.

Finally ten minutes later, both the men stepped out of the washroom with their facial and belly hair no longer marking any presence.

They strolled towards the table. "This damned thing is so hard to walk in!" Bakhtawar exclaimed. "I almost fell three times in the washroom."

Sighing Hinduja assessed both their frames one by one with narrowed eyes. "Something is wrong." She trailed again.

"Now what do we have to shave, good lord!?" Bakhtawar cried out.

Slowly, Hinduja's gaze landed on their chests—flat chests to be specific.

"I knew it." She smirked. "Both of your chests are too flat for a woman." Pausing a bit, she picked up her satchel and unzipped it. Extracting out four medium sized oranges, she kept them on the table. "That's why I came here with full preparation."

Both the men stared at her in pure horror.

Keeping the satchel back at it's initial locus, she met their eyes, one by one. "What?" She voiced out. "Shove them in."

"Where?" Bakhtawar hollered out.

"Into your blouses." She shrugged.

"Do we really need to do that?!" Bakhtawar cried out again. "I have seen many flat chested women!"

"I don't care. I need this to be perfect. So seamless that none of the family members of SIT members doubt anything at all. " She exclaimed. "Now." The tone of voice turned authoritative in a second. "Shove them in and tape them well." She paused. "We don't want oranges popping out of your blouses in front of the public, do we?"

Bhanu Pratap smiled awkwardly. "Okay ma'am."

Bakhtawar gave in with a nod too.

Then, both the men picked up two oranges each and inserted them inside their respective blouses.

"Now?" Bakhtawar asked, flaunting his chest.

"Something is still odd." She remarked, scratching her chin thoughtfully.

"What else is left, now?!" Bakhtawar flailed his arms around in exasperation.

"Give me a minute." She replied and swiftly took out a metallic box from her satchel.

"What is this?" Bhanu asked.

"Make up box." She paused. "I bought it specifically for this purpose because I anyway don't know shit about make up, so, switch on your damned phones, open YouTube and do it yourself. You both need to look feminine."

Bakhtawar clenched his jaw. "Fine!"

"Good," she said. "But, one last thing." And then, she turned around to fetch a first aid box kept on a chest of drawers just behind her chair. Unlocking it in one go, she took out some cotton from it.

She then handed out some cotton to both of them. "Tear the cotton into pieces and shove them inside your blouse, on both sides of the oranges." She directed. "Just putting in oranges appears a little unnatural; as if footballs are growing on your chest. And we don't want that. So, shove the cotton inside as well."

"Fine, your honor!"

"Okay, ma'am."

Two voices echoed in the SDM's office one after the other.

Sometime later, Hinduja assessed both the men from the tip of their toes to the top of their skull with an appreciating gaze. "Pretty!" She announced.

Bakhtawar rolled his eyes.

With her eyes set on Bhanu's chest, she examined it with focused eyes. Directing her right hand in his direction, she poked his chest thrice with her index finger. "Hmm." She nodded. "The texture is realistic too. So, the cotton did help a lot."

Then she turned around and picked up a black handbag from her table. "This bag has around thirty-two pieces of different kinds of unisexual jewelry with a chip attached to each one of them. One for each of the family members and the officers." She paused, turning around. "I hope you have dug up some details."

"I did." Bakhtawar nodded. "You are the tenth member. So, leaving you aside, I dug up information about the IG, all the nine SIT members and all their family members with focus on at least one member from each of the families, who happens to be a little superstitious." He explained. "For example, IG Sathe's mother, DSP Singhvi's wife, ASP Desai's father, ASP Singh's mother, ASP Fernandes's wife, ASP Jain's wife, Inspector Maartand's husband, SI Bedi's elder daughter and ASI Yadav's wife—All these people are a little superstitious in nature, so we will target them."

Hinduja nodded. "Good. But just in case, Jishu Fernandes is not a Hindu. He is a Christian so its very much possible that his wife might not believe in Hindu rituals which is pretty normal." She voiced out. "So, you do know what you have to do in that case. Right?"

"Yes." Bakhtawar affirmed. "I have kept supplies for that in my bag. Don't worry."

"Okay." She nodded. "As for DCP Katoch, I have kept one for him and giving that to him is my responsibility." 

Bakhtawar nodded while the man beside him stared at his shaved belly forlornly. 

"Alright. Do your best." Hinduja smiled. "And please talk and walk like women. At least try to." She clasped her hands at the back. "I don't want to end up in the lockup, nor do I want you both to end up in the lockup as well." 

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Target : 120

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