Chapter 140: Consequences
Abandoned cottage, 8:20 PM
Rohit leaned against the stolen ambulance van, eyes following Robin as he worked around the forest rest house. Despite everything that had happened in the last hour, he was on a call with Namrata, his voice carrying the ease of someone on an evening stroll.
"I don’t understand what your problem is," he said, mildly frustrated.
"Rohit." Her voice came through complaining. "It’s too much. I expected a small paycheck and you gave me my entire annual salary. You’re making me feel terrible."
He rubbed his temple. "Look, Namrata... I paid fairly for what you did. I understand the pride thing, but consider it compensation for the job you lost because of me."
"What job loss? It was my decision."
"Based on my suggestion. So let me settle my conscience and end this useless argument."
A silence stretched on the line before she gave in.
"Fine. But you have to accept a dinner treat from me. And you can’t breathe a word of this to Seo-yeon."
Rohit raised an eyebrow. "Is this an invitation to watch Netflix together at night?"
"In your dreams. I’m cutting the call. Bye." She hung up abruptly.
He chuckled, then stopped as Robin came trudging over, smelling heavily of sweat and kerosene.
"Sir, it’s done. What next?"
Rohit pocketed his phone. "I know today’s been a lot, and I’m impressed. But this is exactly what I need you for." He paused. "Do you regret it?"
"No, sir," Robin replied without hesitation. "I’m happy as long as I’m paid."
Rohit smiled and patted his shoulder. "Good. You’ll go far. Now.. we return, and you forget everything that happened today. Not a word leaks out. You understand the consequences."
Robin nodded, then hesitated.
Rohit’s chin came up. "What?"
"Sir... I know this is your personal matter. But I’d like to accompany you tomorrow. Please."
"No. You might get killed, and I can’t afford to lose a useful hand."
"One chance, sir. Please."
Rohit considered him for a moment, then reached into his waistband and held out his gun.
"Fine. You haven’t been inside yet, have you? Go in and finish it yourself. I’ll evaluate you on what I see."
Robin took the gun. It felt heavier than it had any right to. He nodded once and walked toward the cottage, slowing as he reached the door.
Earlier, he had only poured kerosene from outside. Now he had to go in and end it with his own hands.
The smell seeping through the cracks was already turning his stomach — something rotten and iron-sweet that hit the back of the throat. He steadied himself and pushed the door open.
He immediately regretted it.
"Who’s there?" The doctor’s voice scraped out from the darkness, cracked and desperate. "You’re not Rohit, are you? Are you here to kill us? Please.. take me first. I can’t face him again. Please. I’m begging you."
But Robin wasn’t hearing the words. He was seeing what was in front of him.
The doctor was still bound to his chair, but his eye sockets were hollow and dark, weeping blood down his cheeks in dried streaks, flies circling his head in lazy, unhurried loops.
Across the room, what had once been Kasim, the mountain of a man, was now barely a shape. His body was a ruin of open wounds, swarming with flies and maggots that moved visibly across his skin.
The leeches, bloated and dead, lay scattered around him like shed skin. Somehow, somewhere deep in that wreckage, a faint groan still came — involuntary like an animal, perhaps the last noise a body makes before it stops entirely.
Robin raised the gun at the doctor. His hands shook. He fired, and it got missed.
The doctor let out a short, hollow laugh. "Kids. Come closer. Put it to my head." He swallowed hard, his voice breaking. "And... tell that bastard to spare my wife. She’s innocent. She has nothing to do with any of this. Once I’m gone, please —"
He kept talking until the gun went off.
The bullet took the back of his skull with it. What remained slumped forward against the ropes, and the flies, barely disturbed, resumed their circles.
Robin vomited where he stood.
He turned toward Kasim, took a few steps, then stopped. He couldn’t go closer. He turned his face away, extended the gun at arm’s length, and pulled the trigger.
Bang Bang Bang Bang—
once, twice, three times, four times, until the room went completely silent.
He forced himself to look back just long enough to take a photo.
The sight after the shots was worse than before. He pressed his nose into his sleeve, took the photo with a shaking hand, and turned for the door.
Rohit was standing there, smiling faintly.
"Good job," he said. "Drink only water for today."
***
City lights, main road, 9:13 PM
Jayesh was heading toward South Delhi, his van already loaded. His destination was Anna’s base, where he was supposed to deliver the cargo.
He hadn’t needed to come personally, but something about the whole situation had been sitting wrong with him all day. Better to handle it himself, see it through to the end, and be done with it. One simple delivery. That was all.
Beside him, Melina clutched the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white. They were stuck at a red light, and directly in front of them sat a passing police jeep.
Jayesh patted her thigh. "Relax. They’re just passing through. If anything happens, don’t react. I’ll handle it."
Melina nodded, her eyes fixed forward.
The signal turned green, and the police jeep pulled away. They both exhaled a heavy sigh of relief.
Melina eased onto the accelerator, but they had only rolled a few meters when a motorbike drifted lazily into their path and toppled over right in front of them.
"Damn idiots," Jayesh hissed in frustration. "Who gives these people a license?"
The irony being, of course, that Jayesh had never sat for a driving test in his life and had simply paid his way to one. But there was no one around to point that out, so the thought passed without trouble.
The two bikers picked themselves up, parked directly in front of the van, and immediately launched into a performance.
Arms waving, voices raised, fingers pointed at Jayesh as though he had personally aimed the vehicle at them.
Traffic began to pile up behind them. A crowd gathered, sensing a show.
"Get out, you rich rascal!" the biker yelled. "You think having a big car means you own the road?"
"Yeah!" the passenger added, leering through the window. "Probably too busy with his Russian girl to look at the street!"
They began thumping on the windows with open palms.
Melina reached for the door handle, her face flushed with anger, but Jayesh held her back.
"Wait. Let them tire themselves out. We’ll push past when the gap opens."
But the gap didn’t open. Instead, the police jeep they had seen earlier made a sharp, illegal U-turn and pulled up beside them.
"Sir, the police are coming back." Her foot hovered over the accelerator, ready to swing into the nearest gap in traffic and disappear.
"No." Jayesh steadied his voice. "We stay. I know the local police here. We cant afford to make any scene. "
The jeep pulled up a few meters away. An officer stepped out followed by a constable, both of them crossing the lane slowly.
Jayesh watched the officer and felt something tighten in his chest. The man was new. Young face, unfamiliar walk, a slight limp in one leg.
Not someone he recognized.
The crowd and the jam dissolved the moment the uniform appeared. The officer pulled both the bikers and Jayesh to the side of the road. He was rubbing tobacco between his palms as he looked between them.
"What happened?"
The bikers erupted.
"He hit us, sir! No warning!"
"And then he sat in there acting like he’s too good to apologize!"
The officer turned to Jayesh, tucking the tobacco into his cheek. "Aye.. is that right?"
Artwork.
"No, Sir," Jayesh said, keeping his voice respectful. " We were moving normally. They came out of nowhere and fell in front of us themselves. I had nothing to do with it."
The officer tilted his head. "Look, I respect your age. But listen to what you’re saying. Does it sound reasonable to you?"
Jayesh sighed. He knew how this game was played. "Officer, I’m not at fault, and I suspect these two have had a few drinks. But if an apology settles this, I’ll give it. Just let us pass. There’s no real damage."
One of the bikers stepped forward. "Sir, you see his attitude? Does he look even slightly sorry?"
The co-rider nodded along. "We’re not leaving."
The officer turned his head and spat the tobacco directly in front of their feet. They lurched back.
"Quiet."
He took Jayesh to the side, lowering his voice. "Look, if they push this further it gets complicated. Hand me something and I’ll send them on their way."
Jayesh’s frown eased into a quiet smile. If there was one thing he was never short of, it was cash. He opened his wallet and pressed a few five-hundred-rupee notes into the officer’s hand without counting them.
The officer counted them himself, eyes moving quickly, then pocketed the notes and went back to the bikers. A few sharp words, a bit of deliberate intimidation, and they scattered.
Jayesh was already walking back to the van when the officer called out behind him.
"Wait."
He stopped.
The officer strolled over blocking him and spat.
Ptew.
Another glob of tobacco hit the van’s door.
"My bad," the officer said with a half-hearted grin. "By the way... what’s in the back? A lot of boxes for a late-night drive. I hope it’s nothing illegal."
Jayesh stiffened. "Just home appliances, Officer. We’re moving house."
The officer didn’t look convinced. He turned to the large constable beside him. "Chetan. Go check."
Jayesh stepped quickly toward the officer and dropped his voice. "Sir, wait. One moment."
The officer held up a hand. "Chetan, hold."
Jayesh whispered, pulling the officer aside. "Why waste everyone’s time? Name your price, and we both go home happy."
The officer’s face darkened. "A bribe? You’re trying to bribe a man of the law, kid?"
"Officer." Jayesh rubbed his forehead with his patience wearing thin. "I know you’re new. I know you’re doing your job. But I’m in a hurry and yes, some of what’s in that van isn’t exactly standard. Nothing serious. The station incharge knows my name. Call him and stop wasting my time.""
The officer’s expression darkened. He stepped forward and slammed a hand against the van door hard enough to rattle it. "Waste your time? You think Indian police are a joke??"
He pointed a finger. "Everyone out. Vehicle is seized. You’re both coming to the station and you can explain yourself to the SI directly."
Melina leaned slightly out of the window. "Sir, do you want me to handle this?"
The officer let out a short laugh. "Oh, the foreign one wants to handle it. Come out then, both of you, before I lose my patience and handle you myself."
Jayesh pressed his jaw shut. Then, quietly, "Fine."
He stepped out. Melina followed with a barely concealed scowl. Jayesh pulled out everything left in his wallet and placed it in the officer’s hand.
"Please. No scene. We’ll comply."
The officer’s eyes went over the notes with that same quick, practiced count. He pocketed them, then reached for the van keys and tossed them sideways to Chetan.
"Smart boy. I’ll let you and your girlfriend go, but the van stays with us. Come to the station tomorrow morning to clear it with the SI."
Jayesh nodded. He stood on the roadside and watched as the police jeep pulled away with his van rolling behind it. He tried calling on his repaired phone but got only mehanical voice of network out of service.
He kicked the ground once, hard. Nothing was going the way it was supposed to.
Meanwhile, inside the jeep, the same man, in a police uniform that didn’t quite belong to him reached for his phone and dialed. He was Raju.
It rang twice, then Rohit picked up from other end, "How was it?"
Raju replied calmly, fully satisfied. "Best robbery ever, Partner. We got the fucking van."