SS Ankahee: For Kanta(Divan) the end part 15-pg40 - Page 12

Part 7

'Bhai, I have found Sujoy. He is in Pinjra bar right now.'
Dhananjai looked up from the paper he was scribbling on. He had locked himself in his study to contact all his informers in and out of India, to see what they knew about Pushkar's kidnapping and where they could be hiding. Until now there was nothing concrete Dhananjai could use.
'Pinjra bar, Grant road?' Dhananjai asked.

Iqbal nodded. Dhananjai Stood up from his chair and opened a drawer. He took out a silver revolver and checked the magazine, put it on lock through the slide and put it in the waistband of his trousers. He made a call and asked for his car to be ready after which he took his regular black revolver out of the gun holster and filled the magazine with bullets.

He threw a piercing look at Iqbal and said 'I am going....Alone! you stay here. Mujhe Pushkar ka pata lagaana hai.'

Iqbal stood there and averted his eyes. He fumbled with his words and when he didn't have the courage to ask what was bothering him, Dhananjai took the lead, be it very agitatedly. 'What is it?'

' Bhai, that girl? Uska kya kare? I mean.... I mean she says she can see things...Iqbal too wants to catch her.'
' Don't beat around the bush Iqbal!" Dhananjai warned him.

'Kyun na usse pooch le, what she knows. Maybe she can help us.

Dhananjai looked at his bodyguard, thinking that he had finally lost it. The pressure and madness of this world finally took its toll on his mental health.
Tujhe kya lagta hai Iqbal? Just because Iqbal believes in this cr*pp doesnt mean I will. That girl must be a mental patient and I am not going to participate in her madness. My priority is to find Pushkar and protect my people. Bas!!'

'But Bhai, hum yeh to thukra nahin sakte ki Salim us larki ko kabze me karna chaahta hai. Her practice was being searched through.'

'I know, lekin yeh Salim ki problem hai, meri nahin. Agar woh us larki ko kisi wajah se chaahta hai to woh jaane ya uska kaam.'

Iqbal's eyes lowered themselves in shock, maybe mixed with a bit of embarrassment.

'Bhai, will you trade that girl with Pushkar?' Iqbal whispered.

Dhananjai laughed bitterly.

'You think I can do that?'

Iqbal shook his head with a sense of relief that the mentor he knew was still the same man, even in crisis, and would never endanger the live of an innocent girl, even though she was a nutcase.

But that doesn't mean we cant use her as bait. If he knows that we have here, he will come out of his hideout.
Dhananjai took his jacket from the back of the chair. Dhananjai took the jacket out of his hands and helped him wear his jacket. Bhai, are you sure I shouldnt come with you?'
'Positive! You stay here and keep a watch on everyone. Niru ka dhyaan rakhna warna woh akeli nikal paregi!

Dhananjai walked out of the room. A minute later Iqbal saw him walk to his black Audi, sit in the car and drive through the gate after which the security locked the gate again.

Dhananjai wasn't really in the mood to act like a nice guy with Sujoy. He drove on the almost empty street. Around nine in the evening the regular crowd wasn't out yet. His black Audi almost flew over the road, rolled on the sidewalk and with force knocked down the cheap wooden door of the bar. Dhananjais foot didn't leave the accelerator for one second and he drove right into the bar and jerked the steering wheel to the left so the car would slide over the floor and the rear end of the car pointed to the stage and the front to the door, through which it just entered. Loud music covered the sound of the damage Dhananjai was causing. The flashy and cheap discolights were turned off and the hall was just illuminated by two rows of spots in the ceiling. The rest of the hall was left in dark. The little amount of visitors the bar had, at this unusual time, soon fled with the bardancers and Dhananjai instantly knew that the people who were still in the bar were Sujoy and, indirectly, Iqbals men.

All the men approached Dhananajais car at the same time and Dhananjai ducked while a shot was fired from the front. Glass shattered on top of him. Dhananjai reached for his gun in tucked in his waistband and opened the door on the driver's side which hit one of the men, who had managed to get to the car and was trying to put his gun to Dhananjais temple, in the stomach. The man fell on the ground.

In the mirror, attached to the car Dhananjai already saw another man pointing his gun at him and Dhananjai bend backwards just in time, while unlocking and loading the gun, and dropped himself across the driver's and the passenger's seat while firing a shot that hit it's goal. Dhananjai quickly got up and got out of the car. A man in a flashy blue shirt was running towards him and was shot in his foot. The man stopped and fell on the floor because of the pain. Observing the area in one quick glance he saw that the side he was in didn't have any doors. It could prove to be dangerous for him but he didn't care. He wasn't looking for a way out of this. What Dhananjai was interested in was the fact that if he couldn't get out, no one would be able to get in. The right side was cleared.
Dhananjai dropped himself on the floor when he heard the sound of a bullet being fired. Glass behind him shattered.

Iqbal aur Sujoy gunparactice nahin karwaate hai kya?' Dhananjai yelled to irritate the men who were left. A ray of bullets were fired, but none of them reached the aim of the shooters. Dhananjai lied down on the ground and through the little space between the car and the floor he saw two pair of feet. Four, almost ear deafening blows later, two men fell on the floor. While blood was streaming out of their legs Dhananjai stood up. The man he first hit with the door was ready to stand up again because he was reaching out for his gun, somewhere under the car. Dhananjai turned the man around, put the gun to his arm and fired. The man screamed in pain and fell back on the floor. He put his gun in his waistband and pulled his other revolver out of the gunholster.
'Anyone else who wants to get shot?!!" Dhananjai screamed in the, almost empty, room. No one said anything. He only heard the men moaning out of pain.

Dhananjai bend down in front of the man he just shot. He put the barrel of the gun to the wound he just gave and pressed on it. The man screamed out his anguish.

'Sujoy kahan hai?' Dhananjai demanded to know.

The man shook his head, denying to give an answer. Dhananjai pressed the barrel deeper in the wound. He screamed again and jerked away from the barrel. With his other hand he pointed towards the other side of the room to a door. Dhananjai pushed the man back, who fell on the floor again, and he walked around the car towards the door while dusting his jacket off. From the corner of his eye he saw another man scramble up from the floor. Dhanjai fired a shot over his left shoulder. Without checking whether is aim was right he reached the door and opened it. A small, frightened man with large moustaches sat in the corner of the room with his gun in hand, shaking like a small kid. Dhananjai casually walked over to him, sure that this man would not shoot. He wasn't even holding the gun properly.

Dhananjai held his gun against the man's temple.
'Sujoy?'
The man nodded.
Salim kahan hai?'
A squeaky voice came out of the mousy man. Pata nahin..

Dhananjai sat down next to him on the wooden bench and put his gun in the small space between them. He patted the man on his hand. daro mat. Batao, Salim kahan hai.
Pata nahin.' The thin, frightened voice said. Dhananjai's hand clenched itself around Sujoy's hand so it curled up in a fist and held the hand tightly.

'Aaahh!! The man screamed.

Salim kahan hai! Dhananjai said, slightly louder this time.

The man shook his head. Nahin pata.'

'Kya chaahta hai woh?'

'Nahin pata.' The man answered again.

Dhananjai tightened his grip around Sujoy's fist. A faint sound of something cracking reached Dhananjai's ears. He looked next to him and saw Sujoy's face turn pale.

'Tell me, warna ek ek karke saare unliyan tor dunga.'

Sensing no reaction, Dhananjai exercised some strength on his thumb. Sujoy sighed and closed his eyes, preparing himself for the pain but when he felt the pressure increase he gave up.
'Batata hoon!!! He wants a girl. She has something Salim wants. Pata nahin. Using her he wants to take revenge from you and Pushkar. Mujhe nahin pata hai ki woh kahan hai. Mujhe chor do. Chor do please!' He begged.

Dhananjai put Sujoy's hand on the wooden bench after picking his gun up. He patted Sujoy's hand with force so he would feel the pain in his two broken fingers and stood up. He walked out of the room but stood still for a while near the door and turned around.

He shot Sujoy in his shoulder. Dhananjai waited patiently till Sujoys screaming stopped and only heard his wailing.

'If you call Salim then tell him, jisko woh dhoond raha hai, woh mere paas hai and I am looking for him.

Dhananjai walked to his car and taking out his jacket he spread it over the drivers seat so the glass would prick him. He started the car when he saw someone running towards him. Stepping on the accelerator, he heard the engine spin. Dhananjai released the clutch and the car sped off in full force, in the direction of the man. Before the car would hit him, the man ran out of the way instead of towards Dhananajai. Dhananjai drove over the wrecks of the bar, to his house.

****

Niru came to his study to help him take of his jacket.
'Iqbal kahan hai?' He asked her as Iqbal most of the time did this.

'Boss, he went to finalize that deal.
Dhananjai stopped fiddling with his gun and looked at her. 'What deal?'
'Thakurwala deal.'

'that's tomorrow!' Dhananjai said agitated.
Nirali nodded. I know boss, but he got a call and he left with Robby two hours ago.'

Dhananjai kept staring at Nirali for a while, not believing what he just heard when he slammed his fist on his desk and screamed 'Its a trap d*mn it! Call him and tell him to come back!!'

Nirali backed out of the room, started running over the corridor and flew down the stairs. She reached the room where she kept her jacket and her bag and pulled out her mobile phone. Nirali dialled a number and held the device to her ear.

'Pick up, please pick up.' She whispered. When she was directed to the voicemail box, she threw her phone on the floor which surprisingly didn't shatter into pieces. It might have grown accustomed to her moods.

Nirali came out of the room after trying a few times more, without success when she saw Dhananjai coming down the stairs and running to the back entrance of the house. Nirali ran behind him and saw him open the backdoor where a taxi was waiting. Peeking over Dhananjai's shoulder she saw a taxidriver standing next to the car and someone lying in the taxi.

'Jaibhai, maine inhe beach par paaya, ek gaari unko chor ke chali gayi. Inko pehchaan gaya isiliye yahan laaya hoon. Agar hospital le jaata to policecase ban jaata aur aapke jaise pehchaan nahin hai mere.' The Taxidriver said.
Dhananjai thanked the driver, pulled out some notes from his pocket and tried to give it to the driver, but the driver politely declined. 'Aap ne bahot madad ki hai meri, shaayad aapko yaad nahin. Aap ne mujhe taxi dilaayi, meri behen ki shaadi karwaayi. Mera itna to farz hai na ki aapke aadmi to bachaau.'
Dhananjai lifted the body out of the car when Nirali saw the face. 'Iqbal.'

'He is in danger Niru. We don't have time.'
Dhananjai carried Iqbal in his arms to his room where the rest of the members of the organisation wouldn't be peeking and whispering.

Boss, Robby kahan hai?' Niru asked him.
'Pata nahin. I hope for him that he is lying somewhere, injured as well, because if he is perfectly alright and an informant of Thakur or Salim I'll kill him!' Dhananjai hissed in anger.
Dhananjai reached his room and Nirali opened the door. They didn't notice someone in the room quickly running to the place they had left her in.

Dhananjai put Iqbal on the cold floor, hoping for some kind of reaction when his skin would touch the cold tiles. Iqbal didn't move and when he was put on the floor, Dhananjai and Nirali inspected the wounds. Five bullets. One in each of the shoulders. One in each leg, just above the knee and one in his stomach. Iqbals green shirt was soaked in blood now. Turning toward Nirali, Dhananjai saw her shake and tears well up in her eyes. He patted her affectionately on her head and said. he'll be all right Niru. Now just help me okay. Get me a kitchen knife, we need to take out the bullets. Hospital jaate jaate der ho jaayegi.'

Nirali ran to the kitchen and a while later returned with a knife. She didn't notice Dhananjai whisper his apologies to Iqbal and take out his frustration and his helplessness on the door of his walk-in closet. The girl that had noticed this left her place in the corner of the room and kneeled down next to the injured man. Dhananjai took the knife and was about to open Iqbal's shirt, when he saw Bani unbutton it and stop him. She looked around and signed something. Dhananjai didn't understand this and was about to scream at her when she dragged her speech computer next to her with her blood covered hands, switched the thing on and punched. 'Fire.
Dhananjai took a lighter out of his jacket and, without knowing why he was doing this and why he should trust her, handed it to her. She grabbed the knife out of his hands and held a small flame, ignited from the lighter, under the knife. She turned the blade and did the same thing on the other side. She dug the knife in Iqbals skin until she felt something that shouldn't be in a human body. Bani turned the knife slightly and the bullet popped out. Bani lightly pressed her finger against it to hold the bullet in place and with the knife she dug out the bullet. Painstakingly she did it to the other four bullets when she saw that Iqbal was loosing a lot of blood.

Alcohol She typed on her computer.
Dhananjai opened the cabinet in his night stand and brought her a bottle of expensive vodka. Bani sighed and looked at him when he handed her the alcohol. She hadn't expected anything else from him. Bani took her dupatta and tried to rip a piece of it. Her trembling hands didn't do anything in her favour. Suddenly the dupatta was taken out of her hands and she saw Dhananjai rip a part of it and hand it back to her. Bani poured the liquid out of the bottle on the fabric and she pressed it against the wounds on Iqbals body. Blood flew heavily and Bani looked around in the room. She stood up and ran to the window to look at the garden. There was nothing in there she could use to help Iqbal. She ran back to him saw her dupatta lying on the floor again. She held it in front of Dhananjai and tried to rip it in half, in the length. He understood her and did what she asked. Bani turned Iqbal on her side, laid the fabric on the floor and wrapped the fabric around his torso in a very tight knot to stop the bloodflow to the wounds. She did the same to the lower part of Iqbal's body. Bani was so involved in what she was doing that she didn't notice that Dhananjai was looking at her face intently.

He had seen her before. He had seen her this worried, trembling like this and tears in her eyes.

What he had seen, what he remembered after his accident was true. This girl made the injury on his stomach go away. She somehow had made the pain go away and she had to do it again.

Bani looked at the man, kneeled in front of her to tell him that she couldn't help his friend now, when she saw a gun pointed at her.

You are the girl who helped me when I had an accident?'

Bani looked at the barrel of the gun and then looked at the man holding the gun. The girl who was standing in a corner of the room, sobbing softly, ran to the mans side and pushed the gun away. Bani saw the mans face wrench in anger and shout at her 'Niru stay out of this!
The gun was pointed in Banis direction again.
You did that didn't you?!!" She saw his lips move and heavy lines form on his forehead. Bani nodded.
'Do it again! He shouted.

Bani shook her head. She looked at the state the injured man was in. The bullets, the unprofessional treatment in an attempt to save him. The man lying in front of him was unconscious but she wasn't. She would feel pain, she didn't know why she would feel it, but she would. Bani didn't want to heal him and looked at the gun and at the man who was holding it.

**

'Help Iqbal! Dhananjai heard himself shout at her. He wasn't his usual self. He was possessed by anger and despair.

The girl was shaking her head again and Dhananjai undid the safety lock of the gun. He loaded the gun and for the first time since she knew Dhananjai, Nirali didn't knew for sure what he would do. The girl was crying, looking at Iqbals body and observing his breathing. She held her fingers under his nose, touched his wrist to feel the pulse and at once had a determent expression on her face. She might have made up her mind.

The girl sat on her knee and closed her eyes.

**

She couldn't let him die. She came from a family of healers and medicine men. As long as she was alive she couldn't let anyone die under her care.

Bani closed her eyes and tried to block everything out, forget the image of the gun and the furious man. Heath was building up in the centre of her body, her chest and most of all her head and the heath slowly moved hrough her arms, to her hands.

**

Dhananjai was looking at her face. It was wrenched in concentration while she was biting her lowerlip. She was holding her hands above Iqbal's shoulders and slowly the blood flow there stopped. The bloody, brown patch on both the shoulders narrowed down till suddenly there was nothing left anymore and skin was visible again. Dhananjai heard an agitated sound and looking at her face he saw her biting harder on her lip. On the yellow fabric of her kameez two red spots appeared near her shoulders. The red bloodspots grew bigger and bigger like it was on Iqbal's shirt.
Boss, yeh…!! Nirali screamed at Dhananjai.
Dhananjai turned to Nirali, put his indexfinger to his lips, gesturing her to be silent after which he turned to look at the woman in front of him.
Her hands had moved to Iqbals stomach. Another bloodstain appeared on her kameez, while the wound of Iqbals body healed. A low groan escaped her lips. Her hands now moved to his thighs were the other bullets were fired and Dhananjai saw a bloodstain on her pants appear above each knee. This time she screamed as much as her vocal cords could allow her to make sound. Iqbal moved now. His rapid breathing startled Dhananjai. He was coming out of his unconscious state. The woman opened her eyes and looked at Iqbal. A thin smiled adorned her lips and she close her eyes again. Iqbal opened his eyes and looked at Dhananjai. His breathing was getting more even now with every passing second.

Aaaahhh!!' The three of them heard the woman scream. Iqbal closed his eyes and lost consciousness again. Nirali and Dhananjai heard a loud thud and saw the woman lying on the floor next to Iqbal, with her eyes closed.

**

Bani woke up and found herself in a huge, soft bed. She looked at the ceiling and knew that she was still in the same room. A small bedlamp was switched on, standing on the nightstand next to her. Bani scolded herself for daring to hope that whatever had happened was just a bad dream. Bani tried to sit up and felt every muscle of her body causing her pain. She fell back against the soft mattress and noticed that her arms were clad in white fabric. She pulled the cover off her body and saw a white shirt on her, instead of her yellow salwaar kameez, and her bare legs. Bani looked around and saw a figure in a rockingchair she hadn't seen before in this room. Bani took the lamp in her hands and directed it to the dark corner of the room, where the chair was placed. It was that man. She was trapped in a room with the same man who had pointed a gun towards her, several times. Bani put the lamp next to her on the nightstand and covered herself with the thick blanket. She closed her eyes quickly and tried to make herself as small as possible in this huge bed. She didn't want to do anything that would wake him up. God knows what he will do to her next.