Who painted my lust red?: When Bollywood meets Cricket meets Politicians – Book 2 in the Money series. “Of the three – Bollywood, Politicians and Cricketers, the Politicians are the worst. The other two are completely controllable; the cabal fully knows it can make or break anyone’s career – be it a batsman or a hero; and keeps them on a tight leash. While not every match is rigged, many are and in sophisticated ways so as to not appear suspicious. The naked truth about movies is that today almost all the movies made in India are financed by various types of mafia. How did you get paid, Sonya?” he asked.
“It was in rupees. I did not make much in the first movie and it was all spent just finding a place to rent in Mumbai and getting set up with office and other stuff,” Sonya replied.
“So, who spiked our drinks?” Preeti cut in.
Someone has to stop this madness and it might as well be me. These netas are full of hubris and go about acting as if nothing can touch them.
He took his time and then replied, “It was one of Don’s goons. The planning was done meticulously and executed at a moment either when you were looking at some commotion on the dance floor or when you had stepped out to dance. The bartender would know when but what purpose would it serve? If we want retribution, act as if everything is normal and let our deeds speak.”
Sonya was using a spoon to scoop up foam from her espresso coffee and after drinking it, smacked her lips and asked, “So what is in it for you? What do you get out of it?”
He looked at each of them, holding their gaze for a second or two and then replied, “Call me an idealist. I saw how a superstar of yesteryears got horribly murdered and then they covered it all up. Her angelic smile and the way she used to flutter her eyebrows is still haunting me. Someone has to stop this madness and it might as well be me. These netas are full of hubris and go about acting as if nothing can touch them. They need to know that it takes just a few good men to fix their arrogance and show them the mirror so they can see what they are – two-bit thugs with uncontrollable libido. I not only know what to do, but I can also get away with it. It will not come back to me. As to what I want to do and who, you will come to know from the press. At this time, I need some help in getting some equipment.”
Preeti asked, “What kind of help? My ex-boyfriend is in the United States Special Forces and he is doing duty somewhere around here. I can get in touch with him in a secure way and get whatever you want.”
Preeti was clearly showing off her knowledge of encryption technology to her friends, who were watching her without blinking their eyes.
“What email program do you use? Protonmail?”
“Yes! How did you guess?”
“I am in the security business, and I should know this,” he smiled. It was a smile of acknowledgment, of being on the same wavelength, of a kinship.
“After I read the email, it vanishes from my inbox! Even if someone were to forensically examine my disk, they would not find anything,” Preeti was clearly showing off her knowledge of encryption technology to her friends, who were watching her without blinking their eyes.
Sonya jumped in, “OK Einstein, how does Protonmail delete an email that has come to your server and is sitting on your hard disk? Is that even possible?”
“Yes, it is. The mail has an expiry feature, which can set for how long the email must be on the receiver’s drive before being deleted. Both mine and his settings are 24 hours which means if I do not check my email every day, then I could receive and lose the email. But then we check our Smartphones all the time, so chances of that happening are near zero,” Preeti finished.
The Castrator wrote on the back of the napkin a list of items he wanted and on the last line, he wrote his Protonmail address and gave it to Preeti. She glanced down the list of items and asked with a puzzled look, “Why do you want all these things? Some of these seem to be medical in nature…” she tailed off.
“I used to be in Special Forces too… When it is ready, have him contact me.”
All three asked in unison, “But what are you planning on doing?”
The Castrator smiled and looked at them and said, “I would rather you not know what I am up to. At the appropriate time, you will know,” he said.
Pragya interrupted “But, we don’t even know your name. Who are you and what will happen to us if you are caught?”
“We never met; this meeting never happened. I paid with cash at both places and you are welcome. One more thing, we have not been formally introduced – I know who you all are, and it is better if you know of me as The Castrator.”