“Still throwing you out. Show me if you can get out nicely like a good girlfriend.”
She turned and bit his finger and snapped the door handle. “Ow!” He vibrated, shaking his finger. She got out and banged the door shut, fuming at him. Samar held her eyes, then popped the tip of his bitten finger into his mouth.
“Fuck you,” she snarled, her mouth pulling into a smile.
He grinned, adjusted his specs and drove away.
————————————————————
Samar drove down the estate road to Atharva’s house and rounded the porch. The security flagged him. He slowed, lowering his window. He had been frisked at the gate, but security had to be tight today as the entire J&K government plus Janta Party President Yogesh Patel was here.
“Sir, the parking on this side is full, you will have to leave the car here.”
Samar glanced at the side entrance, teeming with delegates, PAs, secretaries and so many people from Delhi that he now knew thanks to his KDP Presidentship. His own car was full with two secretaries and the party steno. Samar nodded, turning the key and getting out as everybody else followed. The sudden warmth outside fogged his specs.
He pulled them off and wiped the glasses clean on the hem of his kurta, then ran a hand down the white cotton, another new addition to his wardrobe, courtesy Amaal. She had also insisted he wear a white koti over this kurta today but he had drawn the line there. He had picked up his leather jacket instead.
“General Secretary sahab has called for a pre-meeting in the outhouse. Will you be joining, Samar Bhai?” Fahad met him on the porch. Samar eyed the line of cars behind. They were Z+ security, but did not belong to Atharva. Which meant…
“Has Yogesh Patel arrived?”
“Yes. He is with Atharva Bhai.”
“Hmm. You all join the meeting at the outhouse. I will be there shortly.”
If Atharva and Yogesh Patel were meeting alone, there was definitely talk of Himachal on the table. Samar had been getting feelers from his regional leaders in Shimla all last month. He strode up the verandah and began to step through the open house door, tucking his specs into the neck of his kurta to let them air. The flooring under his feet gleamed. He had never seen it shining this bright before…
He ran into somebody and looked up in time to find Iram going off-balance. He gripped her arms as she gripped her stomach. “Samar!” “Iram!” She looked like she had passed the final stages of pregnancy, which he knew she hadn’t. But twins.
“Are you ok?”
She was breathing heavily, her stomach held tight in her hands. It took a second, but she nodded. Samar saw Shehzad step forward in his peripheral vision and let her arms go.
“I’m ok,” she huffed, fumbling with her mobile and purse. “The party delegates are using the side entrance,” she said.
“I know, the parking there was full so we parked here…” he turned back to the main door and stopped. Samar squinted, then put his specs back on. He recognised the driver who was inside Iram’s car. But not from KDP.Where, where, where…?
It clicked. The first time he had gone to meet Sufiyaan Sheikh in Old Town… the tall guard who had accompanied him and Murtuza. He was messing in the driver’s seat of Iram’s car.
“Iram, go inside.”
“What?”
“Go inside, I said.” He grabbed her arm and pushed her completely inside the door just as Shehzad pushed between them. Samar grabbed his collar and shoved him in too — “Who is that driver?” He shut the doors and locked them.
“Samar?!” Iram’s yell fell on his ears as he turned. The driver had already jumped out at her voice. Samar ran, flying down the steps towards him. He made a beeline for the garden.
“Hold him!” He yelled, and ran back to her car. Something was fishy…
Samar stopped outside the open driver’s door.
“What are you doing? What’s wrong Samar?!” Iram kept yelling from the open window. He pushed inside the car and ran his eyes down the steering column. Zip tie and a wire. The radio was playing on loud. He forced it shut. An electronic tick was beeping low under the seat.
Fuck.
The fucker had activated it and run.
Samar dropped on all fours and there it was, winking, diagonally across from the driver’s seat at the back. Where Iram would sit. He jumped to his feet and splayed his palm out at Shehzad through the window. STOP. Pointed to the car.
