Another Heaven. Annu Subramanian

      “Yes, our chosen path is what keeps me going, especially during the times I’m tired, tired of what I do day after day—constant recruitment, continuous missions, unvarying loss of lives.” Usman’s deep-set eyes, steeped in frustration, made him appear like an evil sorcerer. “Yet, such is my calling, our calling.”

      “How are the recent recruitments coming along?” asked Abdullah, eager to see a glimpse of something positive during the bleak review of their cursed lot.

      “Salman is coming along very well. He would be ideal for a domestic mission.”

      “Not a terminal mission?” asked Abdullah, who had high hopes for the boy who was a unique candidate.

      “No, of course not. As I said, this boy is very promising. I want to groom him for the long-term benefit of our mission. He has perfect qualifications—he is homeless, angry, disillusioned, vulnerable, and he is very disjointed. Most importantly, he hates the police. I want to be cautious because of his young age. But based on my last assessment, I believe he is one of our best recruits. And there is that young girl, Saira. She is about fifteen, I think.”

      “Fifteen? What circumstances?”

      “Similar to that boy’s, but she is not homeless. You know that case already.”

      “Oh, you mean the recruitment in which Sayeed assisted?”

      “Exactly. Salman is priceless, Abdul. His innocence is already shattered, and he’s ready to attack the world. I’m going to leave him in my Yusuf’s hands. And I’ll work very carefully with Saira, now that she’s been with us for some time.”

      “And how long are you going to let Kumar and Manohar linger?” asked Abdullah, lighting another cigar.

      Usman smiled at the thought of his two minor assistants. “They’re aimless, brainless idiots, with no sense of religion. Abdul, what good is a man, what is he worth, unless he has strong roots in a superior faith?”

      “Absolutely nothing, Usman Bhai!”

      “I know that Kumar and Manohar could be dangerous to our long-term security. Those two, with no belief in any religion, with no connection whatsoever to Islamic faith, work for my mission for only one reason; money. Money is a good incentive. It would remain a great incentive as long as the pipeline from the northern borders is not severed.”

      “But tangible money is not reliable, Usman Bhai. All it takes is another source that’s willing to offer a better price. Money, unfortunately, cannot buy loyalty. A strong faith in religion and its cause, on the other hand, would buy lifetime loyalty.” Abdullah’s voice resonated passionately. “But I don’t need to tell you that.”

      “True, Abdul,” agreed Usman. “Extremists are our backbone. Sadly, I’ve lost quite a few of my devoted followers during previous missions. Not that all of them have been wiped out.” Usman’s mind rapidly assessed the number of men and women strategically stationed in the market, bus depots, railway stations, and school campuses. His gaunt face grew dark in resentment. “But my list of disciples is a little lean at the moment. No wonder, I’ve to resort to idiots like Kumar and Manohar.”

      “Do you think Maya talked?” Abdullah asked, trying to divert his friend’s mind to the current mess.

      “It seems she was crying and knocking on the guest room door. Remember, that’s the only room in the building that opens to a set of staircase directly leading to the grounds. We need to move her out of here.”

      “What about my warehouse? I’ll make sure she is secure there, and there are a couple of spare rooms where she can be kept isolated.”

      “Eastern Exports? Why not?” Usman sighed gratefully. “I know she’ll be in good hands when she’s in your care. Can we move her there soon?”

      “Let’s move her this afternoon, in case there is a police report. What about the woman Maya talked to? What do we do about her?”

      “She is an outsider, and she should return to her country in a few weeks. I’m going to keep an eye on her and see if any police report sprouts from her concern. She must be curious. I’m sure she has spoken to that man, Dr. Shaker, about the incident with Maya. But I’ve sent a story to our man at The Express to be printed right away—that a missing young lady from a nearby village, delirious due to psychological issues, was taken to safety yesterday by a team of family members and the police. A human-interest story, Abdul, is quite appealing. I made sure no description of the lady or the location was necessary because the lady’s family would much prefer to keep it that way. I also made sure the news was top priority, especially in the city edition, which Tina Matthew and Shaker are likely to read.”

      “Shaker...is he Indian? His name is very Indian!”

      “His father’s Indian name, Shekar, was converted to Shaker, I think. He has Indian heritage, grew up in Chennai for a while, but he is not an Indian citizen. I’ve always been interested in him, even before this incident with Maya. I’m curious about anyone who is curious about terrorism.”

      “But you think he’s all right?” Abdullah asked doubtfully.

      “I’m sure he is. Bookish and very focused on psychology and all that nonsense. Has a keen interest in terrorism from a psychological point of view, and he writes about it. Very suitable for publications, Abdul, and that’s where it stops. But you see, my friend, every element in life has a psychological point of view.”

      “True.” Abdullah readily acknowledged his friend’s statement, admiring his meticulous study of human nature that made him a remarkable leader—a dangerous man, but a leader in his own right. “So you’ve decided to leave Tina Matthew and Dr. Shaker untouched?” asked Abdullah, admiring his friend’s temperance when it came to eliminating potential enemies.

      “For now, yes. They’re both temporary residents here. I’m not at all worried about them. Besides, Abdul, if I decide to get rid of Tina Matthew, it has to be a perfect accident. There can’t be any complication. She is from the States, and so is Dr. Shaker. The media would analyze her death and his till the end of time.”

      “And Dr. Shaker has a license to practice? How does that work?” asked Abdullah, trying to see what Usman saw clearly.

      “Dr. Shaker is here on an extended project. He comes and goes. He frequently works with Dr. Augustine, another crazy psychologist, who is passionate about terrorism.”

      “They’re more passionate about terrorism than we are, Usman Bhai,” laughed Abdullah, his flabby cheeks jiggling like jello. “They analyze terrorism and tear terrorists to pieces, if caught. Champions of counter-terrorism! Anyway, if you think Dr. Shaker is not an obstacle, then I’m not going to worry about it.”

      “I don’t think I would worry about him. I sent Kumar and Manohar on the road early this morning to intercept Dr. Shaker and Tina Matthew to reinforce the mentally disabled theory regarding Maya.”

      “I’m glad you did that. I wonder who else Tina saw or spoke to, besides Zakir, while she stayed here overnight?” asked Abdullah, eager to clear all angles.

      “Maria, of course, but she had no choice but to follow Zakir’s decision. She did not know that I had issued a new order that no overnight guest is permitted.”

      “Maria? The woman who is employed as the warden of this shelter? Is she absolutely dependable?”

      “Yes. She is almost mechanical when it comes to following my instructions. She is very useful, especially because of her training as a nurse. And I know Tina spoke with no one else. She wouldn’t even have seen anybody besides Zakir and Maria. The foyer is situated on this side of the building, far away from the residents. And the guest quarters where she stayed is right above the foyer. Maria told me that she took Tina to her room last night and brought her downstairs this morning. Tina didn’t have a chance to even glance at the other wing. And remember, Abdul, that room has an attached bathroom. So where was the need for our guest to go anywhere from there, especially