CHAPTER 12: "POINT OF NO RETURN"

  The warehouse in Okhla was cavernous and cold.

  Rakesh Khanna sat on a plastic chair in the center of the empty floor, his presence filling the space like a noxious gas.

  He was a small man, unassuming in a kurta-pajama, but the stillness around him was terrifying.

  Karan "Blade" Malhotra stood before him, head bowed.

  "Two," Rakesh said softly.

  "Two men in ten days, Karan. Bunty disappears. Now Salim is found gutted like a fish in a gutter on GB Road."

  "We are investigating, Boss. It looks like the Tyagi gang from East Delhi. Maybe a turf war..."

  "It's not the Tyagis!" Rakesh roared, the sudden violence of his voice making everyone jump.

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  "The Tyagis send a head in a box! They don't hide bodies in rivers! They don't stab men in the back like thieves!"

  Rakesh stood up and walked to Karan.

  "Bunty was tracking that IT guy. Sharma. Did you check him?"

  "We put a tracker on his car. It went to Jaipur on a courier truck. We thought he ran."

  "He tricked you," Rakesh said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

  "A software engineer tricked you. He's not running, Karan. He's hunting."

  Rakesh turned to the shadowy corner of the warehouse.

  "Kalu."

  A giant of a man stepped forward.

  Kalu was a legend in the Delhi underworld.

  He was six-foot-four, a former wrestler who had crushed a man’s skull with his bare hands in Tihar jail.

  "Take the boys," Rakesh ordered.

  "Go to Sharma’s house in Lajpat Nagar. Tear it apart. If he's there, bring him to me in pieces. If he's not, burn it down. Let the whole colony see what happens when you touch my men."

  Vikram was at home, decoding Salim's diary.

  It was a ledger of payments.

  Names.

  Dates.

  It was gold.

  He heard the screech of tires outside.

  Not one car.

  Three.

  He went to the balcony, peering through the curtains. Two Scorpios and a Bolero had blocked the street.

  Men were pouring out—eight, maybe ten of them.

  They carried hockey sticks, iron rods, and swords.

  Leading them was a monster of a man.

  Panic flared, but Vikram pushed it down.

  It’s happening.

  The final escalation.

  He ran to the bedroom.

  He grabbed the country-made pistol from the bedside drawer.

  He grabbed the kitchen knife.