Chapter 2

Leaves and Branches rustled as footsteps thundered in the dark forest. Flashlights piercing through the black night, men shouted instructions and directions to each other. Their goal ? A 5 year old defenceless girl, currently nested in the arms of her protector as he ran in between the bushes and trees and ducking and hissing.

Uncaring of the twigs and stems that cut through his flesh, the man carefully carried the petrified girl hiding from the men with flashlights. He was sure he would not see the next sunrise but the girl in his arms, a part of the woman he loved all his life, she deserved to see the sun. She deserved to see many more sunrises and she deserved to fly however long she wants. And he would damn well make sure she'd do it. Even if it meant losing his life.

"There !!" he flinched at the harsh light and voices, immediately followed by footsteps. He ducked behind a bush, hiding from the blood thirsty men sent, mindless and controlled by village head and regressive customs. He cooed at the whimpering girl, assuring her and crying along with her, as they mourned for the one woman that was the centre of their universe. Praying the she watch over the girl all her life, he ran once again, as silence settled down.

Running into the station, his face lit up at the familiar looking women their hands counting rosary beads. He walked up to the eldest woman, heart filling up with lightness and familiarity. 

"Child..!!" the woman stood up in shock "What happened to you?". Quickly taking the now sobbing girl from the bleeding man, she hugged to her chest directing the other women to take care of the men.

"They killed her, sister" the man whimpered through pain as lifeless eyes flashed before him, " I was too late, they killed her in sleep. Cowards. They were about to kill this one too but I ran with her. We were running since 2 days after I called you up"

Prayers went up in the air as the women chanted for the peace of the deceased woman, their eyes tearing up at the harshness inflicted on the child.

"They're coming for her. You'll have to leave. Take her with you and give her wings. Let her fly and let her do what I could not do to this village. Save her sister. I might be alive or dead but she must live. You have to get on this train sister." he begged.

The group fell in silence as the grave reality dawned on them. The shrill train's horn broke their thoughts, indicating its departure and the group began getting into it. The child looked curiously as the man took her in to his arms once again, kissing her forehead as he whispered blessings, before handing her over to the woman.

She screamed and cried as they walked away, the man stood there with a watery smile and waving. The train moved as the child cried from the window, her arms stretching for the men she was leaving behind and she was brought in.

The train sped up but it did not fail to hide from the little girl, the loud gunshots that rang through the air.

Imlie shot up from sleep, sweating all over. She always woke up to the the resounding gunshots that plagued her dreams. The same shots that took the life of her mother and the same shots that were the last memory of her dadda.

Wearily glancing at the clock showing 5:30 , she knew that sleep was far away now. Throwing her blanket away, she got down from the bed. She needed to relieve the tension that built inside her and Imlie knew only two ways to do that. One of them, being dance. Something she cannot do in the police headquarters. The other, shooting. As ironical as it was, she felt belonged with the gun. It fit in her hand and she with it

                                                                               ******

Pulling on a tank top and cargo pants, pairing them with combat boots, she walked into the shooting range, the place putting her right at home. Mechanically, Imlie got ready. Loaded the pistol and her ears covered, she fired. Shot after shot. All hitting the same point. 

"Bullseye !!!" a voice in the shooting range erupted, as a shot rang through the place.

"That's the 6th consecutive Bullseye, Imlie !" a man cheered, "You never miss a target, do you ?"

"Never !!" Imlie whispered to herself, as she fired another shot, that followed its predecessor to the destiny.

"Enough Imlie", he sternly ordered again, as she reloaded her pistol.

Another shot rang through the range as he was swiftly ignored.

"Imlie, either you stop it or I'm going to Sister Martha" he warned and this time, she put the gun down, sighing and glared at the man that dared to threaten her. The man chuckled at the cold glare that was pointed at him. Others would cower but not him. He grew up with Imlie knew when she was angry and when she was hiding. And now. she was hiding.

"What is your problem Amaan ?" she furiously spoke at him and he chuckled once again. She never failed to amuse him.

"You. Imlie. You are my problem", he got serious, " Your refusal to get help. You did it in the beginning in the name of not being able to afford therapy and now, when you earn enough you still refuse. You know the nightmares haunt you and as good a shooter you are, this is not working."

"I don't have the time for it" she declared and walked away, leaving the man behind. Amaan ran behind Imlie, resigned at his fate. She drove him up the walls, but he could not leave her behind. Even if she's the one that's leaving him behind as she did right now.

                                                                              *********

"ARUUUU.." Arpita yelled, barging into her brother's room. Sunday and the man was prey to her.

Aryan's shot up in surprise at her sister's yell, looking for signs of fire and injuries all around. And when he found none, he scowled at his grinning sister who stood there with catalogues and i-pad in her hand. He groaned realising the point of her rude visit. She was either here to make him choose dresses for her or worse, make him choose clothes for him. Clothes that look nothing like how he likes them to look.

But most importantly, it meant, his best friend was set to arrive in 5, 4, 3, 2 and..

"Aryan !!! Jaan-e-man, I'm here" his best friend ran in, her dog at her heels. Running over to hug him, she gave him a smack over the head before soft hug to his sister.

"Tell me, Arpi didi, what do we have for my best friend today", Komal spoke in faux-business tone and immediately fell into a fit of giggles with Arpita. Both of them drew chairs on the other side of his table and settled down rather unceremoniously, while he attempted to bend his head back into work. Attempted being the keyword.

"Jaan-e-man" Komal drawled sarcastically, "When we are here, your concentration should be on us. I thought we already trained you to do it. So bad."

Arpita and Komal glared at Aryan and all he wanted to do was either vanish or shrink into his seat. Their glares weren't dangerous per say but they'll make you question the root of your existence and he didn't want to have an existential crisis on a Sunday. Shutting his laptop, Aryan raised his hands in surrender, making the women grin in response. He sulked in the chair, as they dumped the catalogues on his table, preparing to unleash a storm on him.

"So", Arpita began, "The order of the day is to style one weird UNB named 'Aryan Singh Rathore' out of his boring clothes into something casual and better. What do you say Komal ?". 

Aryan buried his face into his hands, gulping down the embarrassment that her sister brings with her when something concerns him.

"Awww..Aryan, darling", Komal cooed in pretence, "Don't blush. We know you don't have good clothes. Why fret when your saviours are here ?"

And thus began Aryan's torture. If he thought HR briefings were something he had hard time staying awake, his sister and best friend took the cake. His table that once had laptops and files, is covered with catalogues of men in clothes that he'd not even dream of wearing. Some of them made him want to run of the room and cleanse his eyes out, but the fear of getting smacked held him down.

"Wait..Is that a bedazzled jacket ?" Aryan thought as he gingerly picked up a horrendous picture and dumped it in the dustbin. The man with shorts waiting in the queue. 

"Alright..UNB, you have so far seen everything and rejected everything" Arpita began, " and what does that mean ?"

"That you're going to let me go without any further shopping from this collection" he tentatively supplied only for the women in front of him to cackle out.

"Ohh, Jaan-e-man " Komal bent forward across the table to cup his cheek, nearly falling flat on her face, "So naive. Let me tell you what it means. It means, you, my friend, are going to get clothes of our choice"

Aryan balked at the thought of him dressed in clothes of their choice. He could swear all his property that he loved the women in front of him, but he could also swear the same that they didn't exactly have an amazing sense of fashion. The bedazzled jacket being his evidence. Who even does that anymore? It's not 80s and 90s.

"Anyhow, Aryan, look at this." Arpita forwarded the i-pad. Aryan picked it up, only to immediately drop the damn thing on table in shock. Checkered clothes. His bane of existence. Old pictures of a school going boy with checkered uniform and oily hair dawned in his memory. Yeah, the oil helped his hair, but the checks, God no.

"No Di. ABSOLUTELY NOT. " he yelled, pushing his chair backward as if he was rejecting an offer to betray the country.

"Oh Come on Aru, if not this one, some other" Arpita chirped as she scrolled.

"I hate checkered shirts, Di !" Aryan screamed, as her sister showed another picture, "I will never wear one"

"Stop it Aryan. You're being an idiot, sit down and go through these or I'll smack you" Arpita warned and Aryan promptly walked out of the room. Not before pinching his best friend's arm out of sheer pettiness. Frustration needed an outlet, didn't it.

"Awww.." Komal yelled, rubbing her shoulder, "Idiot. What are we going to do now Di ?" and Arpita smirked.

"Exactly what you said. He rejects and we buy for him"

                                                                               ***********

The situation in the conference room was tense. News paper clippings and photos of a man e were pasted all over the wall.

Imlie presided over the meeting, Amaan sitting right next to her and the room listened to her in absolute attention. They had a mission to complete and they were luring a man in for that.

"Alright team, we don't have a complete idea of his face except for a few random observations" she spoke, " Every source of us failed to come up with a proper description of the man but we have one strong clue for his identification on the day of the mission. His clothes and his face"

"He'll be in a white shirt with blue checks shirt and blue jeans" Imlie directed her teammates.

"Who's going for retrieval of the guy ?" Amaan questioned.

"Alex and Rahul sir" subordinate answered, looking around and failing to find the said guys.

"They're on duty right now ?" Amaan questioned and Imlie nodded.

"Alright, share the details with them. Make sure you say the description properly. We don't have the necessary time to brief them again as all of us are going on separate missions. Send them an encrypted message."

"Next, Pandey. Arrange all fake ritual stuff along with a pandit. I want the wedding to happen without any doubt." Amaan ordered as the man took down details.

"I'm sorry ma'am" a junior spoke up, " Why are we bringing this man in such a dramatic way ? Why not a proper retrieval and arrest ?"

"Because the area is an extremist one. A single sign of police activity, you're shot down. We haven't been able to penetrate into their area enough to conduct an operation. What they're used to though are gun-to-head weddings as a custom. Some threatening and some a mere show. No one would bat an eye. I'll be there as I have to take him into my custody as the team leader."

"Any other doubts ?" Imlie continued and the room nodded in a no, "Then dismissed. See you guys"

"All right Imlie ?" Amaan questioned at the tired figure going over files.

"I don't know Amy. My gut instinct is trying to say something and I can't figure out what. It's frustrating"

"It's probably the nerves" Amaan consoled her, "Let it go. Come on, let's catch a coffee"