Mainak Dhar - Heroes R Us

'Inspector, I don't know what you're up to, but this ends tonight.'

Deflated, the Inspector motioned to his colleagues to gather the body and they began to leave. Arnab threw the gun at the Inspector's feet and left the scene at full speed. Later at home, Arnab replayed the events of the night and wondered what he could have done and whether he had really put an end to the Stoneman charade or just prevented one incident? He knew he could not just attack policemen, but there was something really suspicious going on. However, if he thought he had seen enough strange cases, he was in for a surprise. His phone buzzed and when he checked his inbox, there was a cryptic message waiting for him.

'Must meet. Most urgent government matter. We need your help. Time and place your choosing.'

Arnab replied saying he would meet the next night at 10. After some thought, he proposed they meet in the car park opposite Pragati Maidan adjoining the Old Fort. At that time it would be deserted, and if there was any whiff of trouble, then Arnab could speed away down the main road on the way to his house. He spent the next day thinking of who this mystery person could be. The words indicated that it was someone in the government, and indeed some newspapers had begun speculating that the government's silence on the Guardian Angel phenomenon meant tacit approval. Given that he was doing what the police had failed to do for years, there was even talk that the government was actively helping him with intelligence and support. Arnab knew that none of that was true, but this latest SMS got him thinking that perhaps the government did indeed want to work with him. He welcomed the thought. He had been waging a lonely battle for over a month, and was beginning to get tired. Getting some official help would be very welcome indeed.

He spent another tiring evening at Khan's makeshift gym practicing, and now more often than not, chatting with the old man. By now both Arnab and Khan had realized that Arnab was no natural boxer. He lacked the balance and hand-eye co-ordination to be capable of becoming any more than an interested amateur. However, Khan was happy that he had someone to talk to and pass on some of his skills to, and Arnab had learnt enough to land a half-decent punch and not just gawk at his opponent in a fight. What he lacked in skill, he made up in strength and sheer practice. He had never kept count, but having knocked out dozens of opponents had made him much more confident of himself and also much more in control of his strength. That evening, they finished early as Arnab wanted to be on time for his rendezvous, but as he was leaving, Khan mentioned the Guardian Angel for the first time since he had begun his training.

'Arnab, this superhero they talk about, it seems he is a bit of a boxer.'

Arnab stopped at the door, wondering if the old man was fishing for information. He decided that there was no way Khan could know and replied as if he knew nothing about it.

'Yeah, and they also say he can fly and is bulletproof.'

Both of them laughed, but as Arnab began to walk down the stairs, he heard the old man say to his back.

'He doesn't fly, but he is reputed to be move fast as a rocket and he does have a good right jab. I saw a photo in the papers, and I swear if I hadn't known better, it looked just like how you punch.'

Arnab's heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself not to panic and turned around to face Khan.

'Khan chacha, I haven't hit anyone since I got into a fight over a bar of chocolate with a cousin when I was in Kindergarten. I certainly can't fly and the last time I thought I was a superhero, I was walking around the neighbourhood with my undies on outside and a bedsheet as a cape as a five year old, pretending to be Superman.'

Khan laughed so loudly that he had to dab tears from his eyes.

'Go on, get out and do whatever you young people do nowadays.'

Arnab took a bus to Pragati Maidan and waited in the darkness for his man to arrive. When he finally saw someone enter the deserted parking lot, he put on his attire and followed him in. From a distance he could see that the man was alone, and smoking a cigarette. He kept pacing back and forth, kicking the gravel with his feet. Arnab guessed correctly that he was nervous. Well, that made two of them. In the darkness, the man seemed to have no idea that he was not alone, so Arnab waited for the man to turn his back and then stepped behind him.

'Hello. You wanted to meet me.'

The man jumped as if he had met a ghost and dropped his cigarette.

'Shit! You scared me!'

Now it was Arnab's turn to be startled. The man facing him was someone he had met previously in a hospital room only a couple of months ago, but seemingly in another life as so much had changed since then. He was still wearing a safari suit, and soon composed himself, introducing himself just as he had done in the hospital room.

'I am P.C Sharma, Personal Assistant to the Minister Balwant Singh.'

Arnab began to wonder what kind of official business would require the Minister to send his PA to a night time rendezvous all alone, so he got straight to the point. He thought the chances of Sharma remembering his voice were remote, but took no chances, speaking as little as possible.

'What do you need?'

'Yes, yes. Straight to business. I think we will get along fine.'

When Arnab just looked at him, his hooded face not moving or speaking, Sharma wiped his forehead and asked a question that stumped Arnab.

'How much is the Opposition paying you?'

Arnab had no idea what he was talking about and just kept standing quietly, further unnerving Sharma, who took out another cigarette with hands that shook slightly and lit it up.

'You see, everybody has a price, and with what you have been doing to us, the Minister thought surely the Opposition must have struck a deal with you.'

Now Arnab was well and truly stumped and he asked Sharma what the hell he was talking about.

'You know, making the Government and Police look useless while you fight crime, and then with the elections coming up…'

Another long drag and Sharma continued, 'We need muscle, and you've been putting much of our muscle out of business.'

'Your muscle? All I've been doing is fighting criminals.' Arnab protested.

Sharma looked Arnab up and down as if to say nobody could be so naïve and then said with a wolfish grin.

'Criminal when you don't give a cut to the right people, muscle when you help out during elections, and our bosses when you enter Parliament. All the same people.'

Sharma's expression told Arnab that perhaps this Personal Assistant was not just the unthinking toadie he had taken him for. Like all Indians, he had heard stories of corruption in high places and of the nexus between politicians and criminals but to see it admitted so brazenly caught him by surprise. Sharma flicked away the cigarette that had been in his hand and began to walk away.

'Look, I don't think you'll answer me now, since you seem to be troubling yourself with burdens like a conscience. Think about it and let me know. With the elections coming up, we could use someone of your skills, and we pay much better than the Opposition.'

With a wink, Sharma walked off, leaving a bemused Arnab to ponder the strange proposal.

***

Arnab wondered if Sharma was acting on his own, or if Balwant Singh indeed was involved as well. That would be the irony or ironies-a Minister who ran the Home and Law Ministries himself asking someone not to put goons out of business since they were needed to do his bidding. Arnab, like most Indians, had grown up reading about the depths to which politicians could stoop, so it should have come as no great surprise. The difference was that this time, he was not reading about it in some newspaper but experiencing it firsthand. He decided to spend the next day resting at home, and was in deep slumber when his phone buzzed to life. He reached for his phone and saw a new message.