Kabir stared at the swarthy man standing with a gun pointed at his chest.
‘Get inside and let me talk to the chick. Don’t try any stunts unless you want me to blow your…’
Even before he could finish his sentence, Kabir grabbed the man’s arm, gave it a mighty twist and banged the door shut.
The suddenness of the attack took the man by surprise. He dropped the gun trying to save his fingers from getting caught in the door. But he was a little too late.
The sound of crunching bones was drowned out by his blood-curdling howl.
Kabir picked up the gun, threw the door wide open and dragged the howling man inside.
Heaping the filthiest of abuses, the man launched himself at Kabir, pinning him to the floor and choking him with his bloodied fingers.
Heart in her mouth, Qiara watched the two men struggle to get the better of the other. She leaped out of the gun’s range.
Should she call for help? The gun clanked to the floor as Kabir lost control of it.
Quickly, she picked it up and touched the muzzle at the base of the man’s head. ‘Stop, or I’ll shoot.’
Her voice quavered as she gripped the cold metal with both hands. She had no clue how to use a gun and that made her even more nervous.
The man released his grip around Kabir’s neck and swung around. That was all the leverage Kabir needed. He brought his knee up forcefully against the man’s groin and followed it up by twisting the man’s broken fingers till he was screaming in agony.
Kabir grabbed the weapon from Qiara and jabbed it in the man’s gut. Breathing heavily, blood smeared all over his neck and face, he looked at Qiara.
‘You OK?’
She nodded, her mind still reeling from all that had just happened.
He turned to the man.
‘Who sent you, you prick?’
Qiara’s eyes were peeled on Kabir as he pushed the cornered man into the chair.
‘Sit down or do you want me to shoot your balls off?’
The man fell into the chair.
Without taking his eyes off him, Kabir barked, ‘Qiara, get something to tie him up.’
The man made a desperate lunge at Kabir.
Qiara’s heart jumped to her throat as the gun went off.
The man collapsed on to the floor like a rag doll, blood spraying from his side where the bullet had gone in.
Fear and adrenaline pumped hard and fast in her bloodstream.
‘Is he dead?’
Kabir stooped over to check his pulse.
‘No, still breathing.’
The door burst open and a worried face peeked in.
‘Is everything alright? We heard…’
The guy did a double take when he saw the unconscious man sprawled on the floor.
Kabir quickly cut in, ‘Call the police.’
The man melted away and Kabir turned to her and took her in his arms.
‘I have never been so scared in my life.’
The laughter in his voice made her lift her face. He was grinning down at her.
‘Scared?’
‘Yeah, the way you were handling that gun…I couldn’t tell if I was the target or him.’
A laugh broke out of her – a tad hysterical – but who could blame her.
He pressed his lips to her forehead. The fear seeped away from her and a new warm buzz enveloped her.
She closed her eyes and whispered into his chest, ‘I was scared to death too!’ Of losing you…
He stroked her hair and cupped her face to gaze into her eyes.
‘I need to take care of a couple of things. Will you be OK on your own for a while?’
She nodded.
‘Get your stuff together and wait for me in the lobby. The police should be here any minute. They will have some questions for you.’
He gently pulled out of her embrace.
‘And Qiara…don’t worry. I’ll be there with you.’
She nodded trying to get her wayward emotions under control.
‘Kabir.’
He looked at her, eyes filled with concern. She gulped as her heart plunged into her stomach.
‘You’re a bloody mess.’
He guffawed, grabbed the wet towel that she had discarded after her shower. He left the room, talking into the phone and Qiara felt the warmth leach away.
She glanced at the man who was out cold just a couple of feet away. For a few heart stopping minutes she relived the scene. What if the gun had gone off and killed Kabir? She felt her insides freeze up. No, this wouldn’t do, she chided herself.
Taking a few calming breaths, she got dressed and hastily finished packing. The police would be here and she would be taken away for interrogation. It could be days before she would get a chance to follow up on her agenda of finding Reshma. By then, it might be too late for the girl. Zipping the backpack shut, she strapped it on her back. She was good to go.
Sonagarh Jal Mahal
Sweat poured down his face as Suraj Pratap Singh dug his heels into Viking, driving the champion horse to go faster. It had been months since he had last ridden and he’d never felt so unfit. The polo tournament was coming up and he needed to get into shape. It wouldn’t do to have the host of the event and the captain of the home team put in a poor performance.
The evening breeze cooled his heated skin as Viking galloped, sure-footed as ever, past the thick woods towards the palace. Viking was a great horse but would never be as good as its sire, Monarch. Annoyance simmered inside Suraj and he swatted the animal with his riding crop, making it buck sharply and increase its pace.
Slacken the hold on the reins even for a bit and everything goes to seed, Suraj pondered. That’s what his father, His Royal Highness, Raja Saheb Vishwa Pratap Singh, who had reigned over the Sonagarh principality with an iron fist, had taught him. Unfortunately, age and illness had withered away Raja Saheb’s command over his territory and subjects. The prestige and power of Sonagarh’s royal family were being eroded as fast as its coffers were emptying out. But as Raja Saheb’s heir to an ancestry dating back centuries, he’d be damned if he gave up without a fight. His dream of restoring Sonagarh to its pinnacle of glory was well within his reach. And the polo tournament was going to be the first milestone towards his goal.
As Viking turned the next corner, Suraj was blown away by the grand sight in front of him. A sight he’d grown up with and yet would never grow out of: the placid waters of the Sonagarh Lake reflecting the soft purple-pink hues of a sky just after a resplendent sunset.
Reining the horse in to a trot, he approached the wooden bridge. His heart soared with pride at the thought of following in the footsteps of his ancestors who had ridden down this very same bridge to reach the portals that opened into the sprawling palace at the edge of the lake.
Savouring the sight of the majestic pink stone palace, with its classic grilles and domes rising beyond the waters, he knew he would do whatever it took to safeguard his heritage. He’d very nearly lost it once – to the pretender who had sought to challenge his rightful place in the royal family – but he had crushed him like a cockroach scurrying out of the gutters. An usurper whose name he had forever erased from the annals of their royal lineage. Just as it deserved to be!
So lost was he in his prideful ruminations, he was startled to find Dewan Mehender Singh, in his trademark white kurta-pajama, his silver hair fluttering in the light breeze, standing at the mouth of the bridge. Dewanji was his father’s loyal friend and palace minion, who would willingly sacrifice his own life if he was so ordered by the Raja Saheb.
Dismounting from Viking, he approached the elderly man.
‘Dewanji, is everything alright?’
‘Kunwar Saheb, there’s bad news.’
The fine grooves in Dewanji’s face were etched deeper with worry.
‘Ranveer Khanna is dead.’
Suraj gripped the riding crop in his hand tightly, trying to leash the violence that threatened to spill out of him at Mehender Singh’s words, but failed. The rage within bubbled over and he thrashed the crop against the wooden rails of the bridge with such force that it snapped into two.
Nostrils flaring, he flung the broken end into the lake, turned blood-red eyes at Dewanji and erupted, ‘Bloody hell! All that he had to do was retrieve Ranveer’s tablet.’
Mehender Singh said calmly, ‘I don’t know what went wrong. The man who was hired to do the job is now in a hospital with cops swarming all over the place.’
Kabir’s patience was running thin. It had taken several calls and a heck of a long time to coordinate with the local police. Zayed’s assurance of ‘leave it to me, partner,’ had been an empty one. Zayed was turning out to be the kind of political-player-and-massive-pain-in-the-butt he hated. His futile game of one-upmanship would bring this investigation to a grinding halt. Even as he fumed about his partner’s unprofessionalism, he couldn’t wrap his head around Qiara’s involvement in this entire affair.
Was she simply a victim of circumstances or was there more to it? His gut urged him to trust her blindly but his mind cautioned him. He knew nothing about her and her life choices any more. The minute he’d seen her running full tilt at him, common sense seemed to have deserted him. The more time he spent with her, the more his longing for her would grow. He needed to take her back to IB headquarters and make her spill whatever she knew. But knowing Qiara, she would go out of her way to resist every question, every move he made. And could he really blame her? He’d done nothing to deserve her trust. For a brief while in the hotel room, she’d let him comfort her. He’d be a fool to think that trust had anything to do with it. His jaws clenched at the thought of how close she’d come to being targeted by the assassin. Fear – not trust – was the reason she’d turned to him. He needed to make sure she was safe. There was only one way to do that: get police protection for her and nab the person who had ordered Khanna’s murder and was now hell bent on getting Qiara out of the way too.
After the criminal was despatched to the nearest hospital, the police had recorded Kabir’s statement. They wanted to question Qiara too but he’d fobbed them off saying she was in a bit of a shock after the day’s incidents. He assured the officer in charge he would personally bring her to the police station so they could record her version of the events.
Soon after, Zayed pinged him, superciliously taking credit for it.
‘It shouldn’t be long before the sniper starts singing. Did you grill the Rana woman about Girls Rock! and their links with Khanna?’
Zayed’s tone grated on Kabir’s already frayed temper.
‘Of course, while we were dodging bullets she told me the whole story!’
His lips curled at Zayed’s swift intake of breath.
‘Don’t go all smartass on me, if you know what’s good for you.’
‘As far as I’m concerned, you have done zilch but issue orders and withhold information from me.’
‘Oh, so that’s what’s bothering you?’ Zayed laughed. ‘You don’t like taking orders? Grow up, buddy!’
‘Go to hell, partner.’
He cut off the phone at Zayed’s guffaw and strode towards the lobby. He would deal with Zayed later. He had a tough job on his hand – coax Qiara to submit to a thorough interrogation. Hell, if he even mentioned that word, she would be hissing at him like a vicious she-cat.
The lobby had emptied out and she was nowhere in sight. How did he even think she would blindly follow his order of staying put! He approached the reception desk.
‘Have you seen Qiara Rana?’
The receptionist asked, ‘Are you Mr Kabir Shorey?’
‘Yes.’
She took out a folded note and gave it to him.
‘Ms Rana asked me to give you this.’
Tension coiled in his gut as he read the note:
Kabir – Thanks for saving my life. I owe you big time, much as I hate to admit it. After all that has happened today, it’s best if I leave. I need to get on with my work and finish what I had come here to do. All this drama has just delayed everything. As for your allegations about Girls Rock!, they are totally unfounded. Once I’m done with my work, I promise to share any and all information that you need. But I can’t do that right away as there’s a lot at stake – and time is of essence. I hope you will understand. – Qiara.
Kabir crumpled the note in his fist and turned to the receptionist. What did she mean by ‘a lot at stake’ and ‘time is of essence’? Where was she going? Didn’t she realize she was still in danger? Even though the sniper had been apprehended it was ridiculous to assume all was hunky dory. They still had no clue as to why she was being targeted? Was it only because she had been a witness to the murder? His investigator’s instinct told him this one went deep, very deep. Qiara was hiding something – why else would she flee? Goddammit!
‘Did she say where she was headed to?’ he barked at the girl.
His frustration was making him lose his cool and he regretted it as soon as he saw the girl shake her head, apprehensively.
‘No, Sir.’
Kabir seethed as the implications of her disappearance hit home. He’d been an ass to let his messy feelings about her interfere with his job. This was so not good. He needed to find her right away – and quell those protective instincts pronto!
He blew out a breath noisily and gave the receptionist an apologetic smile.
‘You wouldn’t have her cell number by any chance, would you?’
The girl smiled slightly, obviously relieved at his softer tone.
‘Sir, I don’t know if this will be useful but Ma’am’s booking was done by Rishi Mathur. If you wish I can give you his contact details.’
‘That would be most helpful. Thanks.’
He dialled Rishi Mathur and got a ‘not reachable’ response. On contacting his office, he was informed that Mathur was in Manesar for the day and would return only late at night. It was only after he hinted to Mathur’s colleague that both she and Mathur would be hauled up for obstructing government investigations that she co-operated.