“Maybe what they want is time. But time for what? What can they do to make our story weaker?”
Guha paused in thought. “I wonder …” he murmured.
“They could try smearing you,” replied the research assistant. “A hatchet job to make you sound less credible.”
“Or someone could actually use the hatchet,” said the producer, instantly regretting his words.
“Kill me?” asked Guha.
“Several people have already died,” said his producer. “You need to be careful.”
The producer avoided mentioning the fact that many media companies—including DETV—received their funds from questionable foreign sources.
“Are you asking me to avoid airing the story?” asked Guha, the anger evident in his voice.
“I’m not suggesting that,” said the producer smoothly. “I’m simply advising that you should slow down. It’s never a good idea to get emotional about news stories.”
Guha nodded. “I’ll take your advice,” he said as he wound up the meeting.
Guha’s research assistant felt a tad sorry for him. Guha was always among the last to leave the studio. Perhaps if he had a wife or family, he wouldn’t devote his entire attention to pursuing the truth relentlessly. Guha hadn’t gotten over his wife. Her photograph steadfastly remained on his shelf.
When everyone else had left, Guha quietly spoke to his research assistant. “I have decided I shall not give anyone the luxury of time,” he said.
“What do you mean? We’re legally prohibited from going to air,” she said.
“I plan to defy the court order,” said Guha, the determination in his eyes all too evident.
“It would be contempt of court. DETV could get into trouble.”
“What’s the worst that can happen?” said Guha. “I get arrested? Fine. Public opinion will force the court to release me within the day.” He got up from his desk excitedly. He was pumped up once again.
“But why the sudden urgency?” asked his assistant.
“Because DETV is trying to bury the story,” said Guha, putting a fresh lozenge into his mouth. “The longer I wait, the higher the chances that the story will never be aired.”
“How do we manage our producer?”
“He won’t know what hit him,” said Guha as he packed up. “Make preparations for a completely different subject so that everyone is caught off guard.”
Chapter 96
IT WAS BECOMING a little too easy these days. Or maybe the Deliverer was simply a genius. It was probably the latter. The Deliverer knew ever
ything.
Over the past week he had killed so many people. With each kill, he had felt a sense of elation. And why not? He had done the world a favor in each instance! The world owed him a debt of gratitude and a medal of honor for making the world a better place.
After completing his twelfth grade at the cantonment school, he had joined the army at the age of seventeen as a soldier. He had loved every minute of his experience, surrounded by people who were bound by the call of duty. A couple of years later the war had happened and he had ended up with a bullet to his lung.
Luckily the doctor at the hospital had succeeded in patching him up, even though the wound had left him plagued with chest infections that refused to go away. It also left him with a persistent cough.
The army had no longer been an option for the Deliverer. It was almost like starting his life all over again. The newspaper stint had been just what the doctor ordered.
The Deliverer had been lucky to have survived the bullet to his lung but it had disqualified him from active duty in the armed forces. He had realized that he would soon be unemployed.
One day, while the Deliverer had still been recuperating in hospital, someone had visited the patient occupying the bed next to his. The visitor had struck up a conversation with the Deliverer and he had been forced to put down his book. The visitor had been an impeccably groomed man. It had turned out that he was the editor of a major newspaper. He had graciously offered the Deliverer an opportunity to come work for him—to report from the front lines for the newspaper. The Deliverer had gratefully accepted the offer and had spent several years providing the newspaper with scoops that were unprecedented.
While on the reporting beat, the Deliverer had begun to realize that the country was a shambles. Crimes went unpunished because of notorious delays in the justice system. Innocents lay locked up for years even though there was no real evidence against them. The law and order administration was inefficient and some police officers were busy lining their own pockets. The apathy and inefficiency had made the Deliverer’s blood boil. Men like him were giving up their lives on the nation’s borders while others sucked the country dry! It had riled him to see that the mainstream press was turning a blind eye to many such injustices.