'The amount is no issue, but giving you the money before you've done anything for me doesn't sound like good business.'
Arnab was beginning to panic, wondering if his plan was not going to work after all, when Aggarwal made a counter proposal.
'I could get you the money if you started working for me. Full-scale endorsements and advertising will follow, but that takes time. But perhaps you could start on some, err, tactical promotions earlier.'
'What did you have in mind?'
After Aggarwal had finished briefing him, Arnab spent several minutes sitting by himself, thinking about what he was doing. He had in effect been reduced to being little more than a prostitute, selling himself for favours or money to Balwant, and now, Aggarwal. It saddened him to realize just how naïve he had been. He did not live in a society where change could be brought about through good intentions, or even superhuman capabilities alone. Little could be accomplished without becoming a part of the same dirty system that was the root of most of the problems. Arnab had little choice, as he desperately needed the money to get more information from Arif, but even as he set out to do Aggarwal's bidding, he couldn't help but feel as if he had been physically violated in some way.
The next day, Arnab exploded back into the media spotlight with a series of high-profile operations. First was a foiled robbery at a jewellery store that left four armed robbers in hospital and more than a hundred witnesses gaping at the return of the nation's new favourite son. Next in his sights was a gang of hired goons sent by a builder to evict some slum dwellers. There were six of them, and a bit out of practice after his long break, Arnab suffered a bruising blow to his left shoulder when one of them connected with an iron rod, but after that, he knocked them out them in minutes. He capped it off with a sensational fight against seemingly impossible odds. A traffic accident outside Khan Market after nine at night had left a lone woman driver facing an angry mob of construction workers. They had begun throwing rocks at her car and some of them had begun to surge ahead, driven by anger at the injury to one of their fellow workers and perhaps lust at seeing an attractive young woman all alone. Just then, Arnab zoomed into the scene, standing between the mob and the car. The woman was by now frantically dialling the police for help, but there was no chance they would get there in time. For now, all that stood between her and serious injury, or even death, was the mysterious hooded superhero that stood before her car. Arnab took in the mob as he tried to calm his breathing and prepare for the melee that was about to erupt. There must have been at least a dozen of them. Two or three of them lost their appetite for a fight on seeing Arnab and melted away, but the others stood their ground, goaded on by a tall, muscular man who seemed to be their leader.
'He's one man. We can get him if we attack together.'
The men seemed to take courage at his words and began approaching Arnab at a slow, menacing trot. Small knives appeared in a few hands, but the rest of the mob seemed unarmed. As Arnab scanned the group, he realized his window for action was narrow. If they came close enough, despite his strength and speed, there was a chance one of them could get in a knife thrust and then with sheer weight of numbers, they could overpower him. He locked gazes with the big man who seemed to be their leader, and as they made eye contact, Arnab could see him start to hesitate. The man had been counting on superiority of numbers, but facing a personal challenge from Arnab was not something he had counted on. Before the men could come any closer, Arnab acted, striking with the speed and ferocity of a cobra.
Everyone around saw only a blur of movement and the big man fell in a heap to the ground. The other men stood still, too stunned to react or hit back. Arnab glowered at them, challenging them to attack. One of the men, perhaps incensed by his fallen friend, lunged at Arnab with a knife in his right hand. It was a pathetic and futile attack, as Arnab saw him coming, moved out of the way and then stood behind the man. Arnab had had a lot of time to execute the move, but everyone else saw him seemingly move behind the man as if by magic, as his attacker fell to the ground, unbalanced by his attack that had met only thin air. Arnab bodily lifted the man over his head and threw him a few feet away, as if he were tossing away the garbage. The rest of the mob fled in fear, as onlookers clapped, cheered and snapped photo after photo.
Then it was time to honour his bargain with Aggarwal. Instead of melting away at top speed as he had always done, Arnab walked to a nearby liquor store, and asked the bewildered shopkeeper for a cold can of Woodpecker beer. As over a thousand people gathered to watch their favourite superhero put away a cold one, Arnab grimaced at the bitter taste of beer, the first he had ever experienced. After a couple of sips, he zoomed away, pausing to throw away the can when he was out of sight, before he continued home. The next morning, the papers were full of reports and photographs of the Guardian Angel's explosive return. Prominent among them was the photo of him holding a can of the beer brand owned by Pravin Aggarwal's corporation. Several reporters wryly commented about how even superheroes needed a cold beer once in a while, but it was a publicity coup of unprecedented proportions for Aggarwal.
Arnab was deeply ashamed of what he had been reduced to, and wondered what he would tell Khan when he asked what he was doing. But it all seemed to be worth it when Aggarwal called; informing him that someone was on the way to Delhi with the money. Arnab called Arif and set up a meeting for later that night.
At midnight, carrying a suitcase filled with ten million Rupees, Arnab set out to meet Arif, and hopefully to unravel the mystery of the terror attack that he wanted to prevent.
ELEVEN
Arnab reached the designated meeting point, near an old mosque in Old Delhi. At this time of night, there were few people around, except a couple of urchins asleep on the pavement and the occasional drunk tottering back home. Arnab realized that he was more nervous than he had thought he'd be. Part of that came from being alone, since he had not told Khan anything. Not knowing what he was about to get into, he had not wanted to expose the old man to any unnecessary risk. It had seemed like the right decision at the time, but now, walking into a situation where he had no idea what to expect, he was not so sure any more. For all his powers, he realized he did not have the presence of mind of someone like Khan, and hoped that his trip would not bring with it too many unpleasant surprises.
As he saw Arif appear from an alley to his right, he realized that something was amiss immediately. Arif was not alone, but was accompanied by a short, squat man, who was draped in a shawl. It was by no stretch so cold as to require a shawl, and Arnab was immediately on his guard. When the two men were within a few feet, Arnab called out to them to stop. As he looked them over, he saw that Arif appeared even more haggard than when he had last met him, but his friend was looking at him with sharp, predatory eyes. If there was trouble, Arnab had already decided that he would take Arif's friend down first. Arif defused some of the tension by waving to Arnab and speaking.
'This is Ali, the friend I mentioned. He came from Srinagar when he heard about you.'
Arnab was not about to let his guard down, and addressed Ali directly.
'I have the money you wanted in this suitcase. When can you get me full information about what this operation is and when it is going to take place?'
Arif opened his mouth to say something, but Ali silenced him with a wave of his hand.
'We will give you some information that we have after we see the money. We can get more in a day or two', he said, pointing to the suitcase in Arnab's hand. Arnab was hardly a master negotiator, but dealing with the likes of Aggarwal and Balwant had taught him to be cautious.