Prologue
Heat. Numb. Heat. Numb. Heat. Numb. Numb. Numb. Burn. A scream tore through his stomach. He kept his mouth sealed tight. The scream cried inside him, clamouring in his throat. He held it in. It bellowed, scraped, echoed, then extinguished inside. Burn. He gritted his teeth, feeling life leave his body. Numb.
“There, now…” somebody cooed. “Scream if you need to.”
He growled with his mouth closed, trying to shake his head. It was held tight between gloved hands.
“Chilla!”
Another voice yelled. Samar jolted.
“Chilla, m*******d![1]”
A belt to this groin, needles piercing his flesh. He tried to hunch, gritting his teeth, hoping to cover his hips. Hands tied. Samar fought. Belt pulled off. Needles stuck.
“Hindustani keede, chilla! Bol![2]”
He sealed his mouth tighter, breathing slowly as lashes tore through his groin, needles pushing deeper, penetrating more than just flesh. Every last shred of dignity gone, honour gone, body going. Soon, he would get to go too…
“Two more minutes, ok?” A soothing voice intervened, IV drip punctuating it.
“C*****e, chilla! Yeh chillata hi nahi hai, biba.[3]”
“Iski mashuka ko pesh karo.[4]”
“Janab,” a whistle of whisper. “Aamir bhai ne kaha tha sabko alag-alag rakhn…[5]”
“Bhaad mein gaya Aamir bhai! Laao![6]”
Samar growled, keeping his teeth crushing tight. They would turn to dust. He kept gritting them, trying to hold in the pleading he knew was going to fall on deaf ears.No! Not her. Not her!
“Mashuka helicopter sahiba tashreef laa rahi hai![7]”
Samar turned his head. His eyes torn open through crusted blood, tearing off eyelashes pasted together.Sia.
Dragged on her knees, blood under them, head hanging. Was she dead?
“Look here!” The words tore out of his mouth and she jolted her eyes open.Thank god. Thank god.He hid his relief.
Through the haze of the room, the steely stench of blood and fluids, through the five men surrounding them with thorny torture devices and his own nude state, Samar looked into the eyes of the only hope he had of getting home. Gettingherhome.
Ok?He asked with his eyes.
She stared at him. Her lashes dropped. Only barely. Then rose back.
His eyes went to her stomach. Her flat stomach. Her face began to crumple. He knew it. He knew how it looked before it broke into a sob. Now he did. He had never imagined he would know it. But he knew it now. It was the worst kind of knowing. Squadron Leader Sia Chaturvedi did not do sob. She did not do cry. She did not even do a grimace.
The crumbling facade of her face arrested mid-fall. He saw her throat tighten. Her eyes hardened. Samar took a deep breath.Kill the panic. Kill the pain. Kill the fear.He was of no use if he did not kill them all.
“Ab chilla, Samar Dixit doctor sahab. Ab chillayega?[8]”
He did not respond to the sound of his name. None of them did. They were not their names here, however many times their captors repeated them.
The hands holding Sia’s arms up began to pull from both sides. Sia’s eyes met his and she was gritting her teeth too. They pulled her arms farther, looking like they would tear her. Her face vibrated, but she kept staring into his eyes. Hair disheveled, mouth wobbling, nose up. Nose always up.
“Chilla, m*******d![9]”
Sia’s mouth opened in a scream but nothing came out. Her eyes remained in his. A snap and her mouth closed shut. Samar saw her arm knock out of the socket and his bellow tore out breaking every barrier.
