Richa Chadha

I was at the base at that time, looking at the screen of my laptop. Prakash was beside me, looking at her own laptop. We were given the task to keep a constant check on Mr. Vivek Virohan, and he was doing it through her computer. He was looking at him sitting on his room, having some kind of conversation with his team-mates, and he was looking at them talk like some kind of daily soap--full of interest and attention. He was eating an Indian grilled toast filled with smashed and boiled potato, but he didn’t even look at it when he ate--he was too attentive on him. I was looking at him with a sense of boredom on my face, but I don’t think he even knew about it. So, after some seconds, I started looking at my own screen. “It’s the footage of the night before Mr. Virohan’s video became viral. But, nothing’s happened up until now.” I was looking at the middle-aged man walking down an empty and dark street on his way home. “Right,” I said as he went on an intersection. “I’ve been with this scene several times. Looking at his past was also boring too. Nothing’s happening.” Suddenly, I saw him acting suspiciously. He turned here and there, and scanned his surroundings. Then, he turned left instead of right. My eyes were wide open. “Where’s he going?” I suddenly switched on to the other camera on that lane and saw him walking towards the camera. Then, he went past the camera on the pole. Then I switched the camera again and saw him walking again towards the camera. I suddenly noticed that he took out his pistol and held it on his hands. He, suddenly, stopped and kept his briefcase vertically on the ground. He opened its zip and took out a black hoodie from it. He wore it and closed the zip of the bag. Then, I clicked the forward button to change the camera again, but this time, I can’t. He started walking and walked out of the camera too, but each time I clicked on that button, it won’t change. Then I thought, “Oh, wait. There’re no government cameras beyond this. But, why does the minister who lost his son had a private camera and not a government one?”

Kartik Khandelwal

“We all are here,” I heard the voice in that dark place.

“What do you mean by ‘all’?”

“I mean we all who were at the Security Room.”

“Oh,”

“We all were looking at you two talk before Shahnawaz asked the camera to shut down,” That voice told me. Then, another one continued, “We do this for the safety of the interrogator, but you asked to shut it down.”

“I, uh, didn’t know that he’s already run away once before.”

“He killed some three or four men in that escape. And that too was unplanned. He can prove certainly dangerous if he joins hands with others and tries to take revenge. That’s why we always keep him on our cams.”

“Imma be sure next time.”

“There’ll be no next time, sir,” One of them said in despair. “They’re here to take Shahnawaz probably, and won’t even spare us.”

“Don’t think that, brother,” I tried to console him. “Just tell me what happened.”

“Nothing much,” a much calmer voice replied. “We were just discussing about you two when suddenly a guard entered the room. He told us that the back gate has been attacked by some dozen of men. We were already short on arms because attacks here are no daily things. So, we were not ready and they entered inside.”

As he narrated, I was imagining the whole scene myself in my head. Someone just knocked at the door casually, and the guard, without opening the door, asked, “What?”

“Sir, I guess that someone has ordered food online from here.”

“Oh, uh, ok.” The door was opened by the old man, and when he saw what that man was holding, his eyes swallowed in surprise and shock. He gulped as a man in black hoodie and that same eerie mask with a smile of sharp teeth and wide white eyes stood before him.

“Konnichiwa,” That figure said and aimed his rifle at him.

“Go go go go go!” A man shouted continuously as he waved his men to go up the stairs on whose end he stood.

“That’s what happened,” The mature voice completed.

“So, what are we supposed to do? How do we run?” I asked.

Richa Chadha

“Why did he kill the minister’s son? Was it the work of The Suiciders or it’s not connected to them at all? How was the footage leaked? The investigator investigating his case must have this footage and he must catch Mr. Virohan at once, but why did he not? Moreover, how did it leak if it’s only supposed to go to the investigator?” A thousand questions like that surrounded my mind as I glared at the screen with the same dark empty creepy street, with my mind lost on my thoughts. “But, it’s still not confirmed if it’s The Suiciders’ murder or not. Moreover, this footage can’t be enough to prove that he’s the one to murder the child.”

When I was still lost in my thoughts, the speakers started and a woman announced something. “Everyone, please don’t leave this building. The city’s under the frequent attacks of a terrorist group and they’ve taken over the State Jail and other small areas and streets have experienced the cases of terrorism in their colony. Therefore, it’s better for citizens to remain at their homes and don’t come out until further notice. This is ‘Red Alert’. Thank you.” My eyes were wide open in shock. I felt goosebumps, especially due to the last words ‘red alert’. “Wh-What’s happening all of a sudden in the city?”

Prakash, who was looking here and there at the large commotion and ruckus in the café area, looked at me and said, “What’s all of this, Richa? Is it a terrorist attack in New Delhi?” With my widely opened eyes, I just stared at him with a sense of fear on my face. “Hey!” He waved his hand in front of my eyes.

Over fifteen vans stopped in front of the large garden of Select City-walk mall and over a hundred men got off the black vans with the same eerie masks on their faces with the same rifles on their hands. They aimed at the mall as one of them shouted, “Attack!”

“I-I-I don’t kn-k-know,” I replied.

“I-I” I suddenly saw Prakash murmur in shock. He looked at me with some loose eyes and said, “So that’s what Shahnawaz meant by ‘action’.”