Operation S!! (Last Part)

(All characters appearing in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental)

I nervously reached in to my purse and took two un-crumpled thousand rupee notes and placed it on the small bed space between us.

The Nepalese woman showed no emotion as she took the money and slid it inside her blouse. “Just twenty five miutes sir”, she reminded me harshly.

I cleared my throat and declared, “I am a journalist”.

For the first time she looked at me in the eye. The cold stare nearly unnerved me.

“I cannot give you more time just because you are journalist”, she scorned.

A deep sense of pain seared right through my heart. How much would this woman have suffered to speak like this.

I opened my back pack and switched on a small micro-recorder. She looked at the piece of equipment and quickly dragged her pallu back on her body.

“Leave now sir”, she ordered, as she switched off the micro-recorder.

“I am a journalist and want to help you out”, I replied.

“I have seen enough policemen, journalist and social activists in my life sir. Nobody can help me. So please leave”, she spoke as she threw my money right into the bed space where I had placed it initially and looked away.

I took out the article “Lost Girls” and placed it in her hands. She quickly recognized it and eyes moistened. Her fingers ran through the picture of the six women.

I took out the gruesome pictures of the four women who had been murdered brutally and handed it to her.

“The fifth woman was murdered yesterday. I believe you are next”, I coldly reminded her. I could feel a sense of fear running through her spine as she shivered and struggled to hold on to the pictures.

She took a moment to steady herself and opened the curtains allowing sunlight to fill in the room.

“It’s a long story”, she sighed.

“I have 19 minutes” I responded. She smiled weakly. Perhaps it was first time she had smiled in years!!

I switched on the micro-recorder and listened attentively.

“I come from Kathmandu, the capital of Nepal. It’s a beautiful place, filled with great people and my best memories”

I wanted her to cut the long story and tell me information that would help me catch the killer. But I didn’t want to spoil her mood, thereby alienate her and sat there silently.

“I was born to a high class lawyer family. From time immemorial, our generation had been the guardians of law and we worked with Britishers to govern our land. As I turned sixteen, my family decided to get me engaged to my uncle’s son who had been practicing law in England. Being naïve, I vehemently opposed the decision, for I wanted to lead my life on my terms”

I could relate to that as most women that I knew wanted to do the same thing.

“We used to go to our school in a hand-pulled rickshaw cart. I liked the uncle who used to drop us everyday for nearly ten years. Suddenly one day, he fell ill and his young son decided to take over from him. I instantly fell in love with him. We both liked each other a lot and I told my parents that I have decided to marry my lover. My family fiercely opposed my relationship”

The usual love story and it's fight!!

“That was when we decided to elope to south Nepal where he had a few friends. Our family pursued us and with no choice left we crossed the border and landed in Uttar Pradhesh.”

The story was beginning to take a sudden twist.

“We got married and were very happy for the first three months as we lived off on money that we obtained by selling the jewels that I had stole from my family. Things soon began to turn south as he could not find a job and I soon became pregnant. He would drink and beat me everyday. I thought the birth of our son would change our fortune, but I never knew that it was going to take a turn for the worse”

A small tear glistened down her cheek. She wiped it off and continued.

“My husband sold me and my kid to a broker in Delhi who ran a flourishing flesh trade in South Delhi. For the first few days, I was locked up in a small cellar with five Nepalese women who had suffered similar fate like me. That was when the Delhi police busted the place and a journalist reported about us”, she spoke pointing to the news article in my hand.

I nodded and questioned, “So how come you are here then?”

“As we women thought we had finally escaped, our fate took an even more cruel turn. We were locked up in the police station as we had no travel permissions to enter India. That was when a high ranking politician entered the police station and took us away to his guest house on the outskirts of the city”

I raised my eyebrows curious to know the name of the politician.

“You may not want to hear what happened to us. Perhaps I can give you the list of the politician and his friend who did bad things to us”, she spoke trying to hide the bitter truth.

“I would like to hear the whole story”, I replied gathering all my courage to hear the worst.

“Each one of us were..”, her voice trailed as tears flowed rapidly, “.. day and night for two weeks, till we could no longer stand up.”

The brutal treatment of these women evoked my sense of anger and I was ready to smash those crazy people. Suddenly another thought struck me.

“What happened to your son?”

She looked again and shook her head vigorously refusing to speak more. She held the curtain for support but soon she slid down on the small bed.

“They..”, she heaved a deep sigh, “they burnt his tongue as he was crying too much seeing me in the bad shape”

I stood up and banged my fist into the wall. Bastards!! I was going to kill them all.

“There are many women who have suffered my fate and many more who will if somebody does not fight these people or this system”, she spoke holistically.

I let the anger sink in and sank into the small bed again. My mind quickly began to formulate a plan.

“Do you know who the kingpin of this operation is?” I posed a direct question to her.

“I am not sure. I have very faint re-collection of what happened twelve years ago”, she replied.

My heart sank for that was the end of road. I could arrange for some NGO to pick her up but the major players would escape.

“But I have something that might help”, she spoke as she rummaged through her belongings and brought out an inland letter and handed it to me.

I took the letter and checked if there was any address at the back. Finding none, I opened the letter. It had been written in Hindi and dated the January of last year. A month before she was brutally murdered.

“I don’t know hindi as I was sent to Chennai twelve years back. All that I know was that it was written one of the five Nepalese woman”, she spoke.

I thanked my hindi prachar sabha classes and started reading through the contents. It spoke of similar brutality and a decision made by four of the five woman to expose the politicians. Now all things became transparent.

As I read till the end of the letter, the last line contained the name of the Kingpin, Amit Ray.

Damn!! Amit Ray!!

This piece of news was going to finish my career or become the story of the year.

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I sipped the frappuccino as I looked out at the flowing traffic outside the café coffee day.

“Did you meet my dad?”, she questioned.

“Yeah, It went really bad”, I replied.

“Don’t worry about that. I will handle that. But there is much bigger issue”, she spoke as I glanced at her curiously.

“Where did you go yesterday?”, she demanded.

“I..”, the words were stuck in my throat, “I had gone on a official trip”

“To where?”, she probed.

“I said right.. official trip”, I responded getting little pissed off. I knew I was in big trouble.

“Official trip to North Chennai and that too to that place”, she concluded. Damn!! I was dead meat.

“I said right. It was official. I cannot talk about it” I quickly put an end to this conversation. I was in no mood to discuss about my professional work with anybody.

She got up, “Drink your coffee, pay your bill and don’t call me hereafter. We have broken up”. She took her bag and started walking.

Shit!! How do I explain everything to her?

I ran behind her and stopped her. “Listen, I can explain. But it’s a long story”

As she sat next to me, I explained the entire story and my plan to catch all the culprits involved.

As I turned around, I could see two plain clothes men, sitting on the other side of the shop. Suddenly I felt a tinge of fear run through my spine.

I was being followed by the Police!!

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I quickly double checked the empty street once again, as I led the Nepali woman into a well lit small room. I had shaken off numerous trails en-route this hiding. I motioned to sit on the small chair placed in front of the camera.

“Start speaking when I say yes”, I ordered. I switched on the record button in the digital camera placed on a small tripod stand and walked into the other room. I had to heart to listen to her horror story again.

I peeped out of the window, but could not see any sign of being watched. The recording went on for half an hour and I fast forwarded it to check whether the contents had come on correctly.

“Thank you for all the help” I replied.

The Nepali woman immediately fell on my feet and started crying. I immediately picked her up and asked her to wipe off her tears.

We were going to nail the bastards.

“The video will air soon on the news channels and some NGO group will rescue you. So don’t worry. If not..” I told her of an alternate plan and led her through a back door.

I put on my leather jacket and strolled out casually and started my bike that I had parked ten buildings away.

As I was about to start the bike, my mobile rang.

“Hey darling..” I started the conversation.

“We have your darling. Come and pick her up and also bring the cassette”, a cold voice threatened me.

I started my bike and raced towards the destination. I stopped at the gate of the empty mill on the outskirts of the city but suddenly doubted whether I was proceeding to the correct destination. To erase my doubts, my mobile rang again and I answered it.

“You are on the right track. Park your bike and walk 300 feet inside the mill. There will be a lighted area. Stop there” the instructions continued.

I walked to the destined well-lit place and looked around. Suddenly, Deeksha came running up to me and hugged me.

“We have no intention of hurting a journalist”, a cold voice boomed from one end of the dark tunnel.

A person wearing a black jacket walked through the empty tunnel and stood in front of me. One look at his shoes told me that he was an officer on duty.

“We just need the cassette”, spoke another voice standing right behind me.

“Don’t give them the cassette”, Deeksha pleaded.

“You don’t understand dear”, I tried to explain it to her.

“Damn it Anush”, she shouted. “This is not your small cases where you just leave the culprit. All the perpetrators have to be brought to book”, she yelled. The courage of a policeman’s’ daughter showed up clearly. But this was no time for her bravery.

The black jacket man brought out his gun and placed it on the Deeksha’s temple and spoke, “Enough of this nonsense. Hand over the tape or take the dead body with you”

I immediately took the cassette from my back pocket and handed it to the aggressor. Deeksha gave me a cold stare as I turned my head away from her. I had other plans.

The other guy brought a portable digital player in which they inserted the cassette and played it. Both of them nodded their heads.

The black-jacketed guy took out his mobile and rang a number and spoke, “Hello Fareed, we got it.”

In an instant of extreme madness, Deeksha jumped at the black jacketed guy and snatched the cassette and in the process both of them rolled over and I heard three shots fired.

I immediately threw a punch on the man behind me and ran towards Deeksha. Blood flowed copiously from her abdomen.

Oh Deeksha!! Why did you have to do this? I bent down and took her head in my lap. A quick glance told me that the black-jacketed person was dead as both the shots pierced through his heart.

I bent down closer to Deeksha and spoke, “Why did you do this? I will call for an ambulance”

She shook her head, “I will live for 5 minutes max. The bullets have hit my spleen and caused an internal bleeding”. The nurse in her was finally speaking.

She coughed up some blood and took a deep breath and spoke slowly, “Forgive me for everything. I should have told you”, she paused taking a deep breath, “that I started loving you before you even waved at me. It’s my bad luck that I...”

As she was about to finish the conversation, I felt a searing pain in my back and blood gushed out of my chest. I bent down and checked out a big knife had been thrust from behind my back. It had pierced my lungs and stuck out from my chest. Damn!!

Deeksha head slipped from my lap and with searing pain, I turned around and saw the bloody face of the second man whom I had knocked unconscious a few minutes ago. Even though he had successfully thrust the long knife into my body, the impact had thrown him to the ground.

Damn you!! I bent down and reached out the 0.9mm caliber gun that had killed my sweetheart and fired three rounds at my opponent. He immediately collapsed.

I could feel the chillness in the air, as my eyes started blurring and I felt my knees buckling down. I dropped the gun and lay beside Deeksha. I planted a kiss on her cheek and hugged her as a white misty blanket covered us. We were always destined to be together either alive or dead!!

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(Six Months Later)

As Anu walked up to the main building, she felt a nostalgic pain hit her. She had given birth to twins and had decided that her life revolved around these two god sent angels. The news of Anushmans’ disappearance caused her to further dislike her job, the same job which she loved before.

She proceeded to desk and started packing all the things. She noticed a bulgy envelope lying on her table. She had harshly scolded anybody who had tried to clean her desk and was not surprised that nobody had opened the parcel. She opened it and found a cassette, an inland letter and an open letter. She read the letter slowly.

“Dear Anuradha, My name is Sakshi. Anushman sir had been trying to help me escape my dungeon. You will find a cassette recorded by me and a proof from my friend about the involvement of a high ranking official, Amit Ray in the flesh trade business. Anushman had asked me to post this mail to you in case he wasn’t able to publish the news. Please help me!!”

Anu sank into her chair. She slowly recovered, picked up the phone and dialed the Editor-in-Chief and spoke, “Chief, code black”.

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(Three Days Later)

Anu finished cleaning her dishes when she heard one of her kids cry. She wiped her hands on her apron and picked up the young kid and switched on the TV.

A young reporter could not bear his excitement and he spoke excitedly, “The external affairs minister, Amit Ray, has been arrested on charges of leading the biggest flesh trade business in the history of this country. His charges also include cover up of murders and misusing official power. An early morning raid on his farm house has uncovered two decomposed bodies allegedly belonging to reporter Anushman, from Channel 11 News, and his girlfriend. All the women in his farm houses and brothels have been released and sheltered in various NGOs”

Anu literally dropped her kid as tears swelled up in her eyes. At that point of time, the door bell rang. Anu wiped her tears and walked to the front door and opened it.

“Anuradha?” questioned the courier boy. Anu nodded her head and he handed a parcel which had been forwarded from her office.

She opened the parcel and found out a hand-drawn picture of Anushman. Below it were written the caption, “My God”. There were no guesses from whom it came from.

He truly was a God, a God who had saved many people!!

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(THE END)

(In 2010, over thousand people were forced into flesh trade from Nepal!!)