Chapter 3: The Beginning...

 CNN IBN, Mumbai branch.

“Gupta!” someone yelled and she tripped and fell on the stairs. Of course, where ever Khushi was, accidents were bound to happen. She swore some choicest swear words before getting up and turning around to face her friend, her colleague, Rohit Pandya.

“What?” she asked gritting her teeth. She hated when someone called her using her surname. It made her feel old.

“How come you always fall?” Rohit snickered.

“Why do you bother?” she scoffed, “why did you call me?”

“Boss is looking for you...” he replied grimly with an expression on his face that perfectly suited funerals. “She apparently says it is very important. You are in trouble, I think, Gupta!”

“Thanks,” she said coldly before going away from Rohit in the direction of her boss’s cabin. Before Khushi goes into her death trap, a quick introduction of Boss. Heading the Mumbai CNN branch, Arti Saxena AKA Axe is someone not to be messed with. Sharp eyes, aristocratic nose, and a mouth that rarely opened, she was feared by everyone in the branch not just for her looks but also her steely determination which wasn’t able to be handled by many in the office. Yet, a few choicest employees earned her appreciation and Khushi was one of them.

There was a knock on her door and she adjusted in her seat before muttering a, “come in...”

Khushi walked into the cabin and gave her small smile, “yes mam.”

“Gupta,” Arti got up from her chair as Khushi flinched slightly at the mention of surname, “I have a work for you.”

“Yes mam,” she replied.

“I need you to take an interview of Arnav Singh Raizada. He is the man behind stopping that woman trafficking mafia case.”

“I know him, mam,” Khushi replied seriously.

“I know you do,” Arti said pointedly, “that is why I am asking you to go.”

“I didn’t understand,” Khushi said confused and Arti smiled a small smile, “Khushi let’s just say he is worse than me. If you can handle me, I think you will manage just fine with him. If I send anyone else, I don’t think I will be able to get any decent interview from them.”

Khushi smiled before agreeing, “Sure mam. I will do the interview. When do you want me to go?”

“Tomorrow morning 10 AM,” Arti replied, “I haven’t managed to get an appointment. He just doesn’t receive the calls nor read the messages. I think you will have to try our luck in meeting him. It might take whole day or even may be a week to get an appointment with him but I want this interview at any cost. You get it?”

“Yes mam, I will try my best,” Khushi assured.

“Good, then get on with your work,” Arti said before picking up a paper from her desk, “these are the list of questions I want you to ask him. Improvise it further.”

“Right,” Khushi said as she took the paper from her boss, bid her a good afternoon and went out of the cabin. Arti sighed as she picked up the phone, “Inform your boss the job’s done.”

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Somewhere in Mumbai.

“Boss, the job’s done!” Arus spoke into the phone. The boss who knew everything already just smirked before replying, “You are late, Arus. I already got the report.”

“But how did you?” Arus blurted out but immediately regretted it. The boss’s voice turned a little colder if that was possible, “you are not the only informer I have, Arus.”

“I am sorry, boss,” Arus apologized. The boss chose to ignore it.

“Boss, the bait has been well placed...” Arus spoke, trying very hard to sound calm when his heart was beating hysterically, “Raizada wont know what hit him...”

“He will never know what hit him...” the boss smirked, “he thinks too much of himself to give any importance to anything else happening around him. Anyway, the reports?”

“Sent boss,” Arus replied hoping to get an appreciation for the work done but all went in vain when the boss cut the call without any pleasantries...

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Morning, 9:45

Sharma knocked at his boss’s cabin, who from morning seemed really distant from the time he entered into the precinct. A cold and absolutely boring “come in,” indicated Artesh that Arnav was in one of his foul moods and better left to be alone but the meeting someone wished to make was another pressing problem.

“Sir, there is a reporter to see you,” Artesh got straight to the point understanding that twisting and turning of the actual reason of his knocking the door would do no good to him, especially when his boss was busy pulling off an ASR.

“What does he want from me?” snapped Arnav, still looking into a couple of files that were all over the place on his desk.

“Not he, sir...” Artesh said, hoping that may be then mention of a girl can make him come out of that angry ASR mood, “she...”

Arnav looked up and raised an eyebrow, “So?” thereby successfully bursting the balloon the junior officer was blowing up.

“Actually, she says it is important to meet you sir...” Artesh muttered. Arnav just twitched his jaw and turned his attention back to the files.

“Sir, she is from the CNN IBN....” Artesh finally managed, “and it wont be good to turn our backs on CNN people. They write the hell about us then.”

“Really?” Arnav scoffed, “if you are so worried about your reputation, why don’t you go and speak to her?”

“Sir, but...” Artesh tried to argue when Arnav got up from his chair, effectively shutting Sharma up, “Dont you dare tell me what I have to do and why I have to not...”

“Sorry sir,” Sharma mumbled before running off from the office in top speed.

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“I am sorry, mam...” Artesh spoke to the woman standing in front of him, “sir is busy right now...he cant speak to you.”

Khushi bit her lip in frustration but calmed herself quickly, “it’s okay. I will come two hours later,” and scarpered off from the building, trying to think of new techniques to get hold of Arnav Singh Raizada.

This interview was her big ticket. She knew it. It would propel her into one of the high designations inside the cubicles of her drab looking office of CNN IBN, giving her a new sense of authority and power over her colleagues and she wasn’t about to ruin her chances by giving into attitude of some insufferable man. To hell with him if he wasn’t interested in giving an interview because she was hell bent on taking one and she would leave no stone unturned for this one mission that Arti had given her, knowing full well that she had in her an uncanny ability to control animalistic humans and if she could do that with Arti, this Arnav Singh Raizada would be cakewalk...

 She smiled herself as she circled along the CBI office’s compound looking for security cameras and stuff that would give her presence away and making sure that there was a way to enter the premises without getting caught in the act by the eyes of irritating CCTVs, she took a deep breath and launched her plan into action.

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Arnav Singh Raizada, a commander, Assistant Commissioner of Police and Special Task Force Director, was a lazy man sometimes and hated to climb too much stairs to get to his office. Hence his spacious but boring looking office was in the first floor, facing east and looking out at congested area of Fort, Mumbai.  

Highly disinterested in the happenings of the traffic in his city, Arnav sat with his back to the window whilst he studied some high priority files of the investigation he had just laid his hands upon and was extremely taken aback when the window of his air conditioned cabin opened with a snap and turned around in alarm to see a girl, probably in her late twenties, in a pair of jeans and Kurti, climbing into his cabin with the help of the wall projection his window had.

“What the hell,” he roared, “who are you and how did you even come inside?”

“Hello, Mr. Raizada. I am Khushi Gupta, a journalist from CNN IBN and I have come here to interview you on the infamous Mumbai Girl Trafficking Case. Do you think you could spare me some minutes?” she said calmly, with a smile on face that reached her amused eyes as it took in the highly disoriented appearance of one of high ranking and ever feared crime branch officials, ASR.

PRECAP:

     Not going to accept your defeat, are you?

     Not a chance...all I want is some titbits of your heroic act and you will see the whole of Maharashtra praising you tomorrow...

A/N: So how did u like it? :P 

Chapter 2: Tangled

Somewhere in Lucknow

 “Ammmmmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa” she shrieked, coming out of the bathroom at a top speed, flailing her arms madly. Garima came out of the kitchen in sheer panic after she heard daughter shout as though she was going to die any moment, “Khusi! Ka hua bitiya?”

“Tilchatta!” she screamed, hiding herself behind her mother, “Ahhhha! Cockroach!”

“Khusi!” Garima admonished her, hitting her over dramatic daughter on the head, “Hum toh dar hi gaye the!”

“Amma! Hume cockroach bilkul pasand nahi!” she cried, “usse bhagao!”

“Khusi woh ka kiyerahi tumhe?” Garima asked exasperatedly before going back into the kitchen, muttering about her over the top daughter who was still looking around for any signs of another cockroach nearby. 

“Kya hua Khushi?” her sister, payal, asked as she snuck her head out of her room. “Jiji, tilchatta!” Khushi cried again, sprinting back to her room as though she was walking on burning coals.

Payal shook her head in amusement, “Khushi, cockroach se itna darti kyun ho tum?”

“Yeh kaisa sawaal hai jiji?” Khushi whined, “dar lagta hai! Bas!” leaving her sister to laugh at her while she was busy picking all her novels off her table.

“Sach mein jaoge?” Payal asked. Khushi turned to look at the sad face of her sister. She knew how difficult it might be for Payal. Yet, she had no choice. She had to do this.

“Jiji, hum hamesha tumhare saat hai na?” she asked Payal, caressing her cheeks, “Tum jab chaahe humse milne keliye aasakti ho...”

“Theek hai Khushi...” Payal smiled a watery smile, “Hum samajhthe hai...tum ho aao...”

“Yeh hui na baat!” Khushi embraced her sister before both the sisters resumed the work of packing. In a day Khushi would be leaving to Mumbai, again.

 Being from a middle class family, making ends meet was not a cake walk for this family who had been through many hardships already. But with both Khushi and Payal working after completing their degrees had slightly improved their condition and propelled them towards betterment that is being called as upper middle class instead of lower middle class. For years together, Shashi and Garima Gupta had sweat blood in order to give a proper life to both of their daughters, and after all these years, the hard work paid off. While Payal was working as a teacher in a local school, Khushi was a crime journalist and a forensic technician in Mumbai. Her job was highly respected and applauses were being showered on her for taking such a brave job that too for a woman. She was handsomely paid for all the risk she was shouldering and this was a reason of pride for her parents who never missed a chance to rave about how brilliant and amazing their daughter was.

After a week’s holiday, it was time for Khushi to go back to her work; to her city, her life, Mumbai: the city of extremes not in weather but in nature. It was where every dream came true and it was where everything collapsed to rock bottom in a matter of seconds. It was a city of dynamics. It refused to stay still and static. Mumbai was highly unpredictable and only one thing could beat the city in its unpredictability, Khushi herself.

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CBI crime branch, Mumbai

   It was a tense afternoon in the inner cubicles of the drab looking CBI Mumbai branch office. Not because there was a case to solve, it was just because Arnav Singh Raizada was officially back from his recuperating leave. Not many poor souls in the department had expected that ASR, after getting brutally hurt, would be back within a week to dance on their heads again. Well, when something of this sort happens without a prior warning, the state is something not describable. People, officers to be precise, dressed impeccably in formals were scurrying from cubicle to cubicle getting all the last minute work done, reports filed and the palpable anxiety in the office premises was not helping them either. While all the officers were running a dead line race downstairs, Arnav was coolly sitting in his air conditioned cabin upstairs, in deep contemplation, may be on how to skin his officers alive. Seems relatable doesn’t it?

He picked up his phone and dialled the intercom number, “Aman send Sharma in...”

“Yes sir,” Aman said and looked at Artesh Sharma, a junior police officer, literally shivering, “Sir wants you in,” he said to Artesh with sympathy knowing full well that either Artesh was going to have a panic attack or more likely, pass out. A meeting with Arnav Singh Raizada never went with peace for these new officers in the branch.

Artesh dragged his feet into his boss’s cabin with great difficulty and pushed himself to knock on the door and get done with it. “Come in” a voice growled from interior of the cabin and Artesh, fearing his fates, walked inside trying to be calm and composed but failing miserably.

“You are late!” Arnav barked, “I called you here 5 minutes before.”

“I am so...so..sorry sir,” Artesh managed to blurt out.

 “I have a work for you,” Arnav commanded. Artesh managed to look up and then managed a feeble, “Yes sir.”

“I want you to team up 20 officers. Divide them into four groups and send them to these locations immediately. Make sure they are going to be undercover.”

Artesh took the paper and studied it. For a moment he was confused but soon the mist lifted and he gave a small squeak knowing where the locations were. Arnav looked up and asked, “is there a problem?”

“No sir...”

“Then dispatch the groups quickly. I will have Aman foresee everything.”

“But sir, we don’t know...” Artesh started to talk when Arnav cut him through, “Just do as I say Sharma.”

 “But sir...”

 “Are you arguing with Arnav Singh Raizada?” Arnav asked now standing up from his chair, looking furious.

Artesh swallowed nervously, “No sir...”

“You better not. Just do as I say,” Arnav commanded. Artesh just nodded and as soon as Arnav asked him to leave, he practically ran out of the cabin. Arnav just shook his head, “bloody cowards.”

As he stared at the sky, standing at the huge French window his cabin was accessorized with, somewhere he felt a warning. An alarm. Caution that something was about to be changed. A gale was about to be blown with such huge magnitude that nobody stood any chance against it. He felt extremely uncomfortable and at the same time, nervous. A feeling that Arnav hated.

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 South Mumbai, Pluto towers. 

A laugh....

A cruel laugh that taunted her; froze her insides...

Strong hands started crawling on her body...

A deadly whisper filled her ears...

She woke up with a start. Sweat beads broke out of her tired body. She was clammy and deathly pale. There was a flash, the same flash of the past that haunted her from ages. Never was there a moment of peace for her. Though she remembered nothing about what had happened to her, these nightmares freaked her out beyond anything. Pain, a cruel laughter and a flash of golden light was all that she remembered. Yet that was enough to scare someone who terrorized the whole world.

She had to be strong; after all she was invincible, powerful and brutal. She couldn’t let these pesky night dreams to scare her wits out. She couldn’t afford to break down. The outside world was looking one loophole in this mightily strong Pluto, the queen, the reign holder of the underworld. If they would find one, she could surely be toppled over. She couldn’t afford it. And she wouldn’t!

 Drinking a glass of water and calming herself down, she donned the same poker, hard faced expression on her face, one that refused to reveal any turmoil of her feminine heart. Her eyes were flooded with the same fire that burnt people alive. She was back again after a slight upheaval. Something that was insignificant in her life. She had buried her past ages ago. That past had no chance of being unearthed again.

 Her ultrathin phone buzzed. She picked it up and spoke in a calm but deathly cold voice, one that sent shivers to anyone who heard it, “yes.”

“Boss, he is sending his team to investigate...” Arus spoke, reporting the new turn of events.

“Fuck!” she swore. This Arnav Singh Raizada was way smarter than she had anticipated. He had already caught the scent of something that was burning in their ranks. He was making all preparations for a battle. She couldn’t let that happen. She had to thwart all his plans before it took a significant shape. She had to destroy him.

“Leave him to me...” she replied, “he is soon going to be outsmarted. Let him enjoy his last days in peace. Report to me whatever he does, wherever he goes and whoever he meets, no matter how insignificant those things seem. I want to know every inch of his life before I take him down. After all, a powerful enemy is more fun to raze.”

“Yes boss,” Arus said. She cut the call and threw the phone on her bed. Getting up and carelessly wrapping a robe over her lingerie, she went to grab a bottle of whisky from her personal bar. She needed something to calm her down. Lighting up a cigarette and taking a swig of that amber brown liquid, she sat still, thinking about how checkmate the king.

PRECAP:

    Sir, there is a journalist here to see you.

    What does he want from me?

    Not he sir, she...

A/N: This fanfiction is dark and hence, the language, style of writing will be dark and dirty as well. It is only for a certain section of people who are comfortable with them. Those who are not, I request, please dont bother reading if you cant handle the brazen nature of the story and the scenes depicted. This one certainly doesnt come under the mushy mushy romantic stories. It has an edge to itself...Those who still want to go on with it, I hope you enjoy it...The real action will start soon...

 PS: Each scene is happening at different times if you didnt grasp it while reading :D 

Chapter 1: Into the murkiness...

“I told you...!” came the shrill cry of Anjali again, “you shouldn’t have left him go alone...! Look what he has done to himself now!”

Lavanya smiled as she shook her head. She gave a small wink to Arnav who was highly amused watching his sister getting paranoid and worried. Anjali was pacing inside the special ward, which now held Arnav as a high security patient. The recent escapade had landed him straight in the hospital though he had no idea how it all happened. All he remembered was waking up to boring white walls of the highly surgical environment of the ICU of Seven Hills Hospital, Mumbai.

“Di! He is fine...” Lavanya said as she helped Arnav get up to take his medicines, “He is alright. Sometimes you have to face all of these when you are on duty.”

“Don’t you dare go all CBI on me!” Anjali shrilled again, “Bloody duty! Just because you are a CBI officer too doesn’t mean that you have to fight his case every time, Lavanya!”

“What is my being a CBI got to do with what Arnav does?” Lavanya said with a small smile as she straightened Arnav’s pillows, helping him lay back down again, “he heads a branch. Obviously he has got more duties and he has to do them...”

“Ah, there you go again...” Anjali started to admonish when Shyaam, her husband and another honest crime branch officer, came into the ward, carrying packets of medicines. As he took a look at Anjali, he understood she was about to start another mother argument, going all emotional and sentimental. He chuckled as he said, “another dose ha, Arnav?”

Arnav laughed as Anjali glowered at her husband. Lavanya smiled as she collected all the packets from Shyaam and set them on the table. Shyaam settled down on a stool near Arnav’s bed “how are you feeling?”

“Good...” Arnav smiled, “this is not much though. I was lucky I escaped in time.”

“Lucky?” Anjali’s voice broke the peace again and Shyaam sighed, “Lavanya, please take her out and calm her down.”

“Yes boss!” Lavanya said and before Anjali could manage a word, she steered her out of the ward.

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“Do you remember anything at all?” Shyaam asked, concerned. Arnav was silent for a moment, thinking deeply about whatever he had went through the moment he crossed the barrier of the run down warehouse. He nodded as Shyaam perked up, wanting to listen to even minute details that would help him find out who was responsible for whatever had happened with Arnav.

“Their reach is huge, Shyaam. They are going to know anyway if we start any formal investigation,” Arnav murmured quietly.

“It doesn’t matter,” Shyaam shook his head, keeping a comforting hand on Arnav’s forehead, “All I want to know is who is responsible for this.”

“Are you going to go out of the protocol for this?” Arnav asked him, slightly abashed for making his righteous brother in law to step out of the line just to meet the ends of this investigation.

“Do we have a choice?” Shyaam asked, knowing full well Arnav would feel bad about this, “but this is the only way we have got.”

“I think you are right...” Arnav nodded as he peeled a banana and popped a half into his mouth, chewing it lazily.

“Tell me everything you remember, Arnav,” Shyaam said, the steely police determination back in his stance, “I am going to make that bastard pay for this!”

“Relax, Shyaam...” Arnav smiled slightly before launching into the tale that went deep into the murkiness of drugs, mafia and women.

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Light breeze blew through the window as moonlight filtered through the window. The only noise was the soft rustle of the clothes as she pulled them up, covering her glorious body scantily. The soft white glow of the night shone her body radiantly and softly that it almost appeared glassy and reflective. Her long fingers tugged at the hem of her off shouldered dress, adjusting it above her breasts, as she stepped out of the room, lighting up a cigarette. She smiled; a smile that was frozen in time, never to warm again, cruel and calculating and after not so much a glance at the sleeping man, she closed the door and went away.

 Her black sleek Porsche was dutifully waiting for her. She sat inside, revved the engine and gunned down the dark lanes of Mumbai, going to her favourite night out destination, Sea face road, that reflected darkness as well as a strange arrogance in the form of the brackish waters hugging the shore. She loved the place, it was strangely her. It gave her peace, something that she was not born with.

 Cruelty and arrogance was her definition. Arrogance exuded from her, a quality of savage masculinity but her brittleness was because of the only fact that she was a woman. Apart from that, she was no less than a man in any way. In fact, she was way above them in every way. She was the queen of her reigns, the whole sprawling kingdom of the Mafia: the world of drugs, drinks, money and brutality. She was the ruler. She was the king. The one everyone feared.

She was what her men called her, Pluto.

A shrill ring of her ultrathin phone disturbed the flow of rock music in her car. She put it to her ear, “Yes.”

“Boss, he is alive.”

“What the hell!” she screeched, “how did he live? He was supposed to be really hurt.”

“Yes but looks like the fortune favours his side,” Arus spoke timidly, fearing the molten lava that was about to burst out.   

“Looks like the fortune is against you!” she seethed dangerously, “he is not supposed to be alive. Finish him and get done with it! You have a day! In any case I don’t want him to live! Get the point!”

“Boss...he is in a high security ward. The CBI has increased protection outside the hospital. It is impossible to take him down unless he comes out of the hospital. Doing that now would be suicidal to us and to you,” Arus explained.

Fury brimmed in her. She hit the accelerator pedal harder than necessary and as the car pelted down the empty streets, a steely dangerous voice echoed to Arus, “okay. Let him live for a few days. His death is marked and I will be the one to take him down!”

“Yes, boss!” Arus muttered before cutting the call and joining his group of burly looking men, relieved that he wasn’t on the mission of killing one of the powerful police and crime branch officials, Arnav Singh Raizada,

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“You have to be extra careful from now on,” Shyaam warned a bored looking Arnav who was recuperating in a surprisingly rapid way. It was not even two days since he was operated and he was looking fine already. There was something great about this man who seemed to know the very art of optimistic and positive healing. His confidence and determination did wonders on his body.

“I know Shyaam!” Arnav drawled, “now cut it please!”

“Arnav I just want you to remain on your guard,” Shyaam said exasperatedly, “they can attack you any time.”

“I am going to be,” Arnav snapped, “I am not a child. I can handle myself. I have been in worse situations than this.”

“Okay!” Shyaam held up his hands in surrender, “If you know your way then I wont babysit you again!”

“What did you just say?” Arnav growled as Shyaam chuckled and walked out of the room to join his hysterical wife.

Arnav fell back on the pillows with a sense of foreboding warning him. He knew a storm was brewing somewhere and it was coming his way. He had to be on his guard. He would never know from which side the hurricane would hit him. But he knew it would. His intuitions were never wrong.

PRECAP:

    Sharma, dispatch the groups

    But sir, we don’t know..

    Just do as I say Sharma

    But sir

    Are you arguing with Arnav Singh Raizada?

    No sir

    You better not. Just do as I say. 

Prologue: Red and Blue...

A haze of brutality...

The scream of horror died within him…

 He felt as though his head was about to split open with pain.

Hot and steady flow of blood had his hair completely drenched and sticky. His eyes were burning and the world seemed to be painted with the ghostly shade of violent red.

No other coherent thought came to his mind than run!

His survival instincts kicked in as he staggered along the line of trees, clutching them for the support. All he knew was he had to get out of this hell. His mouth was dripping blood and his hands were shaded with dried blood. He couldn’t see anything in front of him; yet, the fact didn’t seem to hinder his steely determination.

Blindly groping through the dense wilderness, he lurched on to a clean road and but his escapade had consumed all of his energy leaving very little for his brain to function and before he knew it, darkness consumed him and he fell mightily onto the ground.

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 A gunshot…!

The man slumped onto the floor, dead.

Blood seeped from his temple, where the bullet had hit, shattering his brain to pieces.

Should she feel remorse?

Should she feel guilty of killing someone just because her plan failed?

Yes, she should but she didn’t…

For a feral rage had gotten the better part of her conscience, not that she had any…

She looked down the man lying at her feet with a bored look on her face. No emotions at all. No pity, no sympathy that she had killed one of her most trusted men out of sheer fury. There were lots of men under her. But she was the only one.

Unthinkably powerful and unbelievably sharp, she was a genius. However, her ingenuity wasn’t used for perpetuation, instead used for devastation…

She was fire… the one that reduced everything in her way to ashes. But she didn’t burn in the blaze for she was the flame… The blue flame… One who was the ultimate in power!