“Any movement from their side?”
“No. Interrogation hasn’t started yet.”
“Keep eyes and ears open. Food, water, medicine. Keep an eye on these three.”
Samar ended the call. A message popped up from Sayyid Butt.
SB
Let’s talk
Samar sat down in his chair in his office and pulled out his burner phone. He inserted a brand new SIM card and dialled.
“Hello?”
“Hello,” Samar intoned. “You came through on your promise.”
“And you failed.”
Samar remained quiet.
Butt’s heavy voice echoed — “Iram Haider is your President now and running meetings over your head.” Samar’s jaw clicked at that reminder.
“It happened that way.”
“And you think you will be able to turn the tide towards a coalition like this?”
Samar stalled. Iram looked like a novice, but she had held her own in their meeting an hour ago. She had tried to undermine his authority and thrashed his proposal to safeguard Jammu from the dark cloud hanging over Atharva’s reputation. For all intents and purposes, Atharva was now an accused in the murder of a sitting CM of the state, in the spotlight as he had been dragged to the police station for questioning. It couldn’t get worse than this for a CM candidate’s reputation. Samar had said as much.
His other motive, the hidden one, was taking Atharva out of the line of fire. Sayyid Butt’s problem was Atharva on the Jammu trail. If Samar replaced him, it would cease to be a problem.
But Iram was fighting him like Samar was snatching Atharva’s birthright. Either Atharva had taught her too well in a single night, or she was proving to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing just like her father.
“This is not a conversation for the phone,” Samar countered.
“Then come see me.”
“Sufiyaan should also be there.”
A pause. Then — “Ok.”
————————————————————
“For fucks sake!” Sufiyaan swore, smashing his glass on the shelf opposite. Amber liquid slushed and shards of glass bounced off. Some books tumbled down. By now Samar knew this was nothing new. Sufiyaan broke stuff. Expensive stuff with expensive alcohol in it. Nobody said anything to him.
“You couldn’t even handle one good-for-nothing bitch,” he hissed, turning manic eyes at him.
“Atharva played two steps ahead of us and made her Interim President. She holds all decision-making power.”
“But how the hell did he know about his arrest beforehand? It was supposed to be dropped on him like a bomb. How did he know?!!”
Samar kept silent. His gaze flicked to and fro between Sufiyaan Sheikh and Sayyid Butt, two men who were polar opposites. One was smashing glasses and the other sat immobile, finger playing idly with his bearded lower lip as their party workers celebrated downstairs.
“Look at those fools,” Sufiyaan pointed, peering down the window. “They think we have won the election! Pig-heads. I swear if someone doesn’t stop them now…”
“Sufiyaan,” Butt thundered. “Let them be. Our party workers need a boost. It is a good sign. They feel like they may win finally. It is ok.”
“Ok? Ok? We trusted Samar to take over KDP. See what he has done! Taken over KDP, huh?”
