“But, Bhai, the bags are already checked in,” Fahad pointed.
“Then one of you stay and reach home with the bags. Or all of you do.”
They all looked towards him, as if Atharva had gone crazy. Samar nodded at the lot. One of them stayed back while the rest gathered around. Samar kept his eyes on Atharva as he booked the tickets, attention on his mobile. Adil was ok, sleeping soundly at their base. Atharva thought he was kidnapped, in mortal danger. And yet he did not confide in him. Was that how little he trusted him?
“Let’s go.” Atharva grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.
Samar got to his feet as they all began to file around the gate and towards the exit. His mobile buzzed. Unknown number.
“Hello.”
“Are you finally ready, Dr. Dang?” Sufiyaan’s voice slithered into his ear. He hung back.
“Your father is dead, you have time to play these games?”
“My father is dead, you got this time to agree?”
“I connected for condolences.”
“Lie.”
Samar stared at Atharva’s back. If it was not now then it was never.
“She is in Leh, Atharva is travelling back to Srinagar. You have a gap of two days before the convoy returns.”
“Thank you.” Sufiyaan’s voice became solemn. “I will keep my word.”
“Hmm.”
“Please send me her address.”
Samar ended the call and started to type her address. Then stopped. If she moved parties, Atharva would go mental. And when he went mental, he went to the tiniest root of a problem.
Samar followed the group out of the Terminal and down the Departure, sneaking away to the washroom. On his way back, he bought a burner phone and a tourist SIM card from a kiosk.
————————————————————
The steady vibration of the train had lulled Fahad and their two other members into half-sleep. Their security was in the adjoining coupe. Samar kept his eyes on the glossy glass of the window, staring at nothing outside because everything was dark. He was instead fixated on Atharva’s reflection. Sitting erect, eyes straight ahead, lines at attention. Captain Kaul.
He had a sudden flash of their pre-mission transport moments. Silence. The pin-drop kind. Only static from their base. And the vehicle’s background hiss. Lined up in the back of a van. Sitting side by side in a Hercules or Chaturvedi’s Diana. His throat tightened. And the trace of remorse he had lingering in the back of his head about Adil disappeared. There was a chance to get to Aamir Haider, twelve years after his death. There was a chance to tear down his name that was still taken like a messiah. There was a chance to avenge Chaturvedi. Atharva and Adil would not take it. He would.
Today, and all of tomorrows, he would.
He saw Atharva’s reflection push to his feet. Samar turned his head.
“Bathroom.”
He nodded. Atharva pulled the sliding door and stepped out into the lobby before closing it again. The rattle of train tracks continued to lull the other occupants. Samar stared at the space Atharva had vacated.
If only Atharva could see how easily Iram would turn, if only he would come out of this need to constantly protect her and her father.
He would. Today onwards, he would.
Samar unpinned his mobile from the charger and swiped it up.
SAMAR
Situation?
