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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1948897-The-Terrorist
Rated: E · Short Story · Crime/Gangster · #1948897
A terrorist plots to get his job done by an innocent man and another innocent is caught.
“A Terror Blast Rocks Delhi.”


Read the headline of a popular daily newspaper of Mumbai.


Below it was a picture of what remained of an once busy intersection in the capital.



         To Rajeev, who was on his way to work in the usual 8:32 ST harbour local on that Tuesday morning, it was just another piece of news that didn’t affect really him, or, did it? Sitting on his usual window seat in the  first class compartment he thought, “Damn those terrorists!”

         Thankfully he didn’t have any friends or relatives in Delhi so he had nothing to worry about. More worried about the whims of the fickle market he quickly turned to the business news. He was worried about the index and the tip off regarding a major upheaval in the shares of a certain company.

         He had learnt about it from Karan who was a new recruit in the brokerage firm where he worked. Karan who had joined a few weeks ago has become a good friend of Rajeev and had suggested this chance to earn a big profit on the stock of a certain small time company. Karan had asked Rajeev to call him on his new number on Monday before the markets opened. Rajeev had done accordingly on his way to work the previous day but there had been a hint of a ring after which all went silent.

          “The number you have called  is temporarily unavailable.” said the monotonous female voice at the other end very time he tried calling after that. Also, Karan had been continuously absent from the work that day. Karan’s suggestion now seemed like  a farce to Rajeev and he wondered whether he would meet Karan  again….

Amir et Fatima


         It seemed like a Black Tuesday. Dr. Amir was frantic. Rushing from one ward to another, he was confounded with the vagaries of life. The shock and the vastness of an unknown hospital did nothing to help his search. He was looking for his fiancée Fatima. He had been looking for her all night.

         Earlier, unaware of the worldly happenings, Dr. Amir was  cursing the busy Monday.  He was doing his ICU duty in KEM Hospital; reviewing the patients, checking the pulse- oximeters and respirators while the  thoughts of Fatima filled his mind; until he got the call.

         The news stupefied him. His mother said that there had been a blast in Delhi that morning and Fatima hadn’t returned to her hostel room after she had gone to Connaught Place around the same time. Her friends had called to inform the family about his a while ago.

          He had been shattered but reassured himself, “It need not be as it appears. No, no, she must be alright. She must just be helping people. That might have caused her delay.”he tried calling her  but a monotonous feminine voice told him that the damn number was unavailable at that moment. 
                                                         
         That night after arriving in Delhi, Dr. Amir met Fatima’s friends and they began the search. He went to Connaught Place. It had been devastated and it seemed impossible to find Fatima there. The police directed him to the closest city hospital. On inquiring there the staff told him that after receiving the necessary preliminary care, all blast victims were shifted to the hospital in All India Institute of Medical Sciences .

         The Tuesday sun had downed in Dr. Amir’s ignorance. Unaware of the time, he had spent the whole night searching. He had not yet got a lead. AIIMS was bursting with victims but Fatima was nowhere to be found. As every moment passed he got desperate. He had started to break down. Just then his phone rang.

Terrorist et Counter –Terrorists

16:23, Monday


          The Control Room of the Anti Terrorist Squad Delhi Police was furious with activity. The National Security Guard had submitted a preliminary report of the Connaught Place Blast. Evidence suggested that it was an Improvised Explosive Device ( IED) which had triggered by using a mobile phone. The police now had a co-ordinate with the cyber crime cell and the telecom operators for further investigations. They could get the number if they looked for all cell phones which had been in Connaught Place that morning, had gone dead at the exact time of the blast and had never been switched on again.

         By the  late evening they had narrowed down to a suspicious number. On retrieving the call history they also found the number which had made the trigger call. If seemed to belong to some doctor from Mumbai.

         In Room 15, Discount Lodge somewhere in Mumbai, the TV flashed the news about the blast. It was a small old dusty television which wasn’t too clear but it did get the message through. Karan was relieved. He had been watching the images all day. After a job well done he felt he deserved a break; so he enjoyed the distorted visuals and took a sip from his glass. He had completed the mission and how!

         He had been worrying earlier. He had made his own changes in the plan. He was the one supposed to make the call which would trigger off the blast. But after  befriending poor Rajeev at his workplace, he had an idea about getting the job done by poor Rajeev. “Rajeev wouldn’t even know. So much the fun!” he’d thought and had made up the whole story about the company and it’s shares. Even if Rajeev didn’t call he could always do it himself.

         So he had waited that morning. At 8:46 that morning he had tried calling the number but it didn’t ring. It was out of coverage area. He knew the work was done. The TV report confirmed it beyond doubt.

Rajeev et Amir


         A huge crowd, just awakened to Monday after the relaxing weekend, was awaiting the arrival of 8:32 ST at Platform 4 at Vashi station in Navi Mumbai. As the train arrived, the crowd rushed in with all force even before the train slowly came to a halt.
          Rajeev, who had now perfected the act after years of commuting, ensured that he got his usual window seat.
         For Dr. Amir it wasn’t a very pleasant experience as he usually avoided such rush hours. That Monday, having missed his usual early train he was forced to travel by this fateful one. He let himself be pushed and guided by the flow of the crowd and found himself sitting on the second seat from the window, beside a young man reading the business news.

         The people settle quickly and waited for  the train to move. Meanwhile Dr, Amir began typing a text message to Fatima on his phone. As he  finished sending his message, the train went over the bridge across the Vashi Creek.

Beside him, Rajeev took out a card with a number scribbled across it from his wallet and delved into his pant pocket for his mobile phone. Not finding it there, he realized he had forgotten it on his table. It was an important call he had to make. He looked sideways and greeted the man sitting next to him with a smile and said, “Hello! I have to make an urgent call and I think I’ve forgotten my phone. Could I use your’s  please?”
“Sure,” said Amir and handed over the his phone to Rajeev.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

******************








               
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