Police siren blaring, Meera sped her Bolero towards the World Trade Centre, situated on the southern tip of Mumbai. Aditya was in the passenger seat, scanning live updates on his phone. They reached the WTC in less than seven minutes.
The area outside the building was cordoned off. Two police patrol cars and four vans belonging to leading news channels were already parked on the road outside. Reporters were speaking and gesturing in front of cameras, with the WTC in the background, reporting live as the story broke. A large crowd had gathered, and the police were having a tough time controlling it.
‘Where is he?’ Aditya asked a policeman, who saluted him.
‘He is on the first level, sir. Just above the escalator. He’s holding a woman hostage, has a gun pointed at her head. Sub-Inspector Apte is at the entrance.’ Aditya and Meera ran to the entrance.
‘What does he want?’ Aditya asked Apte.
‘Hasn’t specified. He is just threatening to kill her and anyone else who tries to stop him. Seems to be a nutcase,’ Apte said.
‘How many other civilians inside?’
‘There are around twenty shops and offices on the ground and first levels. Including the staff and customers, somewhere between 120 to 130 people, I guess.’
‘Go to the WTC administration. Make an announcement on the PA system, asking everyone to get into the nearest shop and stay inside until they hear from us.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Meera, come with me,’ Aditya said, and they went in.