FF: Hostage [NOTE- page 34] *discontinued* - Page 5

Part 1

He watched as she sat talking at a small caf outside university from which just days ago she had graduated. Dressed casually, the girl and her friends sat remising, about the past four years, friendships that had been formed, jokes only they understood, relationships that evolved to such an extent, marriage was on the threshold for some. Rubbing his eyes from the lack of sleep, Prem Juneja watched as his target stood up to go to the washroom, giving him a break from staring intently at her as he had been for the past week.

Sighing, he leaned back, tipping his head back from exhaustion. He was tired, he admitted to himself inside, tired of running, tired of chasing, tired of stalking. It was time to take action. With that though Prem reflected on the immense meaning of the words he had heard just weeks ago.

***

"Two months."

The doctor stared back into Prem's shocked ones, after having dropped the bomb. Prem stared back at him, waiting for someone to tell him it wasn't true, that it couldn't be. Two months. How could a young man of 20 years be doomed to his death, just given the time frame of 2 months? Breaking the doctor's gaze, he turned to look through the window, to see his life, his inspiration, lying down, a peaceful smile on his innocent face as if he was just sleeping. Not knowing that two months was all he had left. Not knowing that he might leave everyone physically, but his memories would torture his brother and mother till their last breaths.

Looking back to the doctor, fighting to keep his emotions in control, fighting to keep the waver out of his voice Prem did what any self-respecting brother would do. He did not accept. He questioned.

"Am I just supposed to just sit here while you just tell me? No sir, I will not stay quiet; tell me what do I have to do to keep him alive? Don't worry about anything, just name it. If it means I have to give him an organ, then sir that is nothing to me compared to my brother's life and happiness. See my mother out there?"

He said pointing so the doctor could see a woman wearing a simple sari, sitting in a chair, looking but not really seeing anything.

"I can do anything to bring life back into my mother's face, name your price sir, and leave nothing out." He finished, the waver gone out of his voice, his proclamation strengthening with each word.

The doctor stared at him, marvelling at all the emotions that seemed to have emitted out of the young man standing in front of him. And something clicked in his head, which caused him to reply in an equally strong voice.

"One core."

Hearing it come from the doctor's voice finalized it. From someway or another I would have to get that money. I'd be dammed if I let my life's life slip out of his body and join the number of souls who watch the world from the other side. Nodding briefly, I stepped out of the office, walking past my stone mother to an empty hallway where I sat down, my mind a blank. I had no where close to that amount of money in my name. My father, a poor man died minutes after holding my younger brother in his arms. Growing up, we filled out stomachs from the remains at the dump. Getting me a job at a multi national company without any type of education had been a miracle in itself. Only reason I got that job was because of my persuading skills when it came to making deals. Any leftover money went towards my brother's education. Having already paid the fees for the next year, I couldn't even withdraw it. And it would have been his last year as well, then just maybe; he would have been able to make something of himself. All he was lacking now was health. He had everything, the skills, the confidence, the ability. And there was no way he would fail now. Not when he was so close. I needed to get that money, from somewhere, anywhere.

I had no options. None at all. Being such a successful man he couldn't even help the apple of his eye. Couldn't help the life of their small knit family. There was no money he could use for personal reasons. The company would sympathize but would not be able to help me out financially. I sunk my head in to my arms, exhausted from racking my brains for days, just hoping in desperation there would be someway I could just find a way out dammit! Something…anything…at this point I was desperate. Seeing my mother walking around like she had somehow let down our late father, or seeing him in a hospital bed, needles coming out every which way. A feeling rose deep within me, chipping away all the softness that was left, hardening me to the core, frustration. As I rubbed my eyes, I caught the attention of the morning paper left on the hospital table. "India's Richest Man's Daughter Graduates" read the headline followed by a picture of a young woman, smiling openly for the camera. My eyes scanned the paper, words jumping out to me…rich…charity…daughter…loved by father deeply…India's Sweetheart…I crumpled the paper in my fist, my heart pounding. I had found a way out.

***

Prem opened his eyes, as he heard the girl return. Hugging each one of her friends, she swung her bag over her shoulder, flipping her hair. Laughing openly she walked over to the door and walked out confident obvious in every step. Subtly, so no one would notice, I paid for my coffee and headed out, taking a swift sweep of the street and catching her walking up street to the houses in which all the business men had bungalows made for their families. A trickle of sweat caressed my cheek, drooping off my chin and seeping into my white shirt. I wiped at it impatiently. I couldn't lose focus. I had to do what I had come to do. For Preet. For his future. For his life.