Door bell rang. A tall man wearing a leather jacket with his face covered with a hood stood in front of him when he opened the door. He smiled upon seeing him, shook hands and welcomed him in.
‘How are you, sir’? Danny enquired as the words automatically slipped out of his mouth.
He raised his eyebrow in reply to his question.
Err... sorry sir. Danny corrected himself and said, ‘How are you Mr. Reclusive Billionaire?’
‘Fine, as always’, he replied.
With a smile, Danny handed him a briefcase stashed with money along with a small metal box which seemed old but able to hold the necessary. ‘A small gift from the team who is minting money like never before and it is all because of you’, his beaming face said.
‘Blue! Wow! This is spectacular and rare’! A pleasantly surprised look adorned his face upon opening the box. He kept on admiring those beautiful blue eyes which were once a path finder seeking vision for that mute but lethal animal called Tiger. To be precise a White Tiger. After a while he kept the briefcase and the box inside the closet ensuring that it is locked properly from outside.
The next morning he was fuming upon reading the headlines. “A dead tiger found”, “Business of skins”, ‘This has to be stopped. How can one behave in such an inhuman way? Bloody rascals. One day they will even sell themselves for that crisp bundle of currency!’ he screeched. Clenching his fist in rage he slammed it on the breakfast table. The impact was such that the table broke one of its legs. Yes, such was his muscular strength, inspite of him leaving the army many years ago. He decided to take the matters in his own hands and planned to put an end to this organised crime.
He searched for similar kind of news, flipping pages of past news papers, cutting out those articles and pinned it on the planning board in a proper sequence. Several paper cuttings eventually hung from the planning board. Using his strength of analyzing the clues from the dates, places and names of accused involved, from numerous calls to various people, from getting the images of the accused from the internet and various sources, he came to a conclusion and decided to eliminate that strong and only link between the supplier and buyer. Ordinary people can go wrong on this but not him. Yes, this was ‘The Analysis Man’ analyzing, a tag given when he used to work for the army.
For the next few days he investigated the middleman’s daily routine and noticed one similarity. He was frequent at a night club. ‘This is the perfect opportunity to nail that bastard. Your time is up, Mr Sheru’, he grunted with a smug smile on his face.
The next evening he skimmed one of his favourite verses before executing the planned action to push away doubts that had tugged in his minds.
Karmanye vaadhikaarasthay maa phaleshu kadachana, maa karma-phala-hetur bhur ma ate sangho ‘stv akarmaani.’
After receiving the final confirmation from his informer, he left for the night club.
In the back of his mind he knew that finding and killing Sheru will not be enough as they will be back to business with a new middleman in a short span of time. But so be it. It’s time to instill fear in them and then plan things accordingly.
There wasn't a tinge of fear on his face as he was confident of his analysis. Armed with a tiny syringe, placed carefully under the heaps of clothes hanging from his body, he managed to enter the night club with ease. He straight away went to the bar, took his seat and ordered a drink. He screened the place. People of various ages and shapes burnt the dance floor - Some young and some pretending to be young. Some swaying their hips whereas some enjoying the eye’s gape. From locals to foreigners, everyone was busy with dance and drink.
He noticed Sheru among his group of friends shouting and dancing. He waited and studied his movements before advancing towards him.
First he went towards the washroom and made himself ready for the attack. Sheru’s group was in direct vision from where the washroom was located and he could see Sheru clearly from here. He gave a final glance to his weapon and placed it in the inner pocket of his jacket which he had left open. Thus making it easy to fetch and attack. He looked towards Sheru, paced his footsteps in sync with his movements and jockeyed his approach. His hands slowly moving towards the inner pocket of his jacket. Nearing Sheru, he then pretended to jolt forward as though he had been pushed from behind and slammed into him. Sheru was about to fall from the push just then he held him to gather and with his right hand jabbed the needle forward passing through his shirt with ease. He depressed the plunger, shooting the contents of vial into Sheru.
With such a loud noise blasting through the roof and Sheru busy dancing, it was difficult for him to feel the needle prick.
‘Sorry’, he said to Sheru and went ahead dancing and singing towards the exit. ‘It’s fine’, he replied and continued dancing not knowing that the deadly chemical injected into him will take effect in next ten minutes. Sheru’s end was nigh.
Next day the headline read, “Sheru, the middleman found dead. Lots of animal skins have been recovered from his place.”
Few days later, after thorough investigation the team of local police and officers from various agencies busted the gang of operatives smuggling illegal tiger skins to various countries. Thus putting an end to this organised crime.
‘Finally, it’s all over’, he heaved a sigh of relief and continued ‘What was started by me – a reclusive self appointed vigilante is complete now.
Few months later a team of policemen stood in front of his bungalow with a search warrant.
They were searching for that old metal box which can finally nail the kingpin of this racket. It was kept as a public secret so that the kingpin is not cautioned and allowed to flee the country. And hence the series of news reports claiming an end to this but it actually wasn’t. They played smart.
With meticulous interrogation of all those guilty, they came to a conclusion that Danny had left a metal box with some retired army official. After searching many homes they were finally standing at Ret. Maj. Nachapoku’s place.
Baffled and left insulted Maj. allowed his bungalow to be searched, a palatial place for a retired army man.
Few hours of searching found Maj. in a soup when they recovered huge sums of money and that old metal box. He pleaded to be ignorant about it, boasted about his successes and laurels he earned when he served army but to no avail. He was immediately taken into custody for further interrogation.
The interrogation was one sided as he didn't reveal much but the search of his bungalow led to further evidences against him. Apart from that they also recovered his medical file which stated an alarming fact.
Case no. 484: Maj. Nachapoku is suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), dated 10 years ago.
The medical records detail that once fighting against the infiltrators in a land surrounded by wild animals Maj. was attacked by a tiger from rear but bravely fought the animal and killed it before the animal could kill him. In the skirmish his left leg got badly injured which eventually had to be amputated and in the due course was replaced by Jaipur Foot.
This incident took a beating on his agility severely and was asked to take a voluntary retirement from the army. Though he was offered a desk job but he had promptly declined the offer. It was not him but his ego talking. Once the bright star of the Army, now thrown and abandoned just because he couldn't run and fight the enemy.
|Dissociative Identity Disorder|
But how can a man of principles and discipline do that? His heart and mind were at loggerheads. Heart pleading to forgive but mind adamant for retribution. Thus resulting in DID.