Neel Dervin and the Dark Angel (28 page)

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Authors: Neeraj Chand

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BOOK: Neel Dervin and the Dark Angel
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“Well,I hope it gets better.” Divya said, taking her seat back on her chair. “It sounds
like it had a tough time yesterday.”

“Priyanka will take care of it.” Neel said, getting off the panel as Divya resumed her
typing. “So I‟ll get going, I guess. Nothing for me to do here. And Divya? thanks for… you
know, keeping this between us.”

“You‟re welcome” Divya said with a smallsmile. “Just remember, keep your mask on in
the future.”

 

Neel grinned as he turned towards the door.

 

CHAPTER 11: Running into Trouble

 

Night time.

The morning duty guards at Phlicer complex had been replaced. The new guards, fresh
from sleep, patrolled the buildings warily, watching for any signs of suspicious activity inside
the perimeter.

From atop the boundary wall, safe behind the shadows of a tree, Neel watched the
proceedings intently.“Twenty guards on this side.” he muttered into his communicator.
“Probably more that I can‟t see. I‟m going in.”

He re-positioned himself facing north. Powering his legs, he took a gigantic leap for the
showed area behind the nearest building. Jumping to an upper window, he held on to the
edges of the frame and kicked upwards with his legs, the momentum shooting him to the top
of the building. From here, he had a clear view of the entire complex, sprawling out for
several kilometers. He could see the central building, the Phlicer head offices, which was the
safest building in the entire compound. Somewhere in that building, Mehta was conducting
his meeting with the man from the Japanese company. And it was not hard to tell where. At
the middle level of the building, he saw a small open window with light shining through,
showing signs of human activity at this advanced hour.

Neel fingered the two small devices in his pant pockets. He had with him a laser
microphone that could direct a beam towards the glass window. The pressure waves bouncing
against the window created by sound from the conversation inside would be picked up by the
receiver, which would convert the beam vibrations to audio signals.

It was a simple way to listen in on the conversation in Mehta‟s office. But now Neel was
reconsidering the strategy. The window was open. The laser could still be used to bounce off
any reflective surface inside the room. But Arjun had told him that the microphone he had
was a very limited version of the actual device, and not as effective. Any conversation they
heard might not be clear or distinct.

And with the window wide open, Neel realized there was a much simpler way to
complete the mission.

 

* * *

Inside the room, Mr. Mehta faced
the man sitting in front of him. “And so, Mr. Sumoya,
I welcome you to India.” he was saying. “I trust you had a pleasant journey. I apologize for
the unorthodox style I have been forced to adopt for this meeting, but circumstances have
made this secrecynecessary.”

The man opposite him bowed. “No apologies are necessary
, Mr. Mehta. The nature of
our business certainly makes some amount of secrecy necessary. I assume the police have
been interesting themselves in your affair?”

Mr. Mehta‟s gaze se
ttled briefly on the row of monitors lined at the opposite end of the room
before looking at Mr. Sumoya. The monitors showed a direct feed from a number of
camouflaged security cameras that had been installed recently on the rooftops of the
buildings in the surrounding area. For the last few minutes the cameras had been tracking the
progress of a shadowy figure across the complex.“Not quite. You see, a certain youth
recently terrorized my Chief of Security and threatened my safety. I don‟t know who this
individual is, but I hope he understands the risk he has taken in engaging me. I did not get to
the position I am in today without learning a few things about survival.”

He had been pacing the room while he spoke, glancing at the window occasionally. On
his third round, he saw what he had been expecting. On the edge of the window, barely
discernible in the darkness for anyone who wasn‟t looking for it, he saw hands gripping the
ledge. Mehta motioned to the four guards who had been standing pressed up against the wall
on either side of the window. The two closest to the window moved noiselessly into position.
Then, they simultaneously grabbed one hand each and hauled the intruder into the room. The
black clad form soared through the window, recovered his balance in mid air and landed on
all fours on the floor, straightening up instantly and turning to face Mr. Mehta and the five
guards, for the man posing as Mr. Sumoya had also drawn a gun and joined the other guards.

“Good evening, young man.” Mr. Mehta said pleasantly. “As you can see, I have made
full arrangements for your visittonight.” he stared at the masked face closely. “I must admit I
found it difficult to believe you might actually be a child. Did you really think you could
break into my domainand spy on me without my knowing it?”

The figure moved in a whirl of black. Before the guards had even raised their guns, he
was in there midst. He grabbed the hand of the first guard and twisted it around, throwing
him hard on the other guard. Unable to get a clear shot, the other two guards swung at him.
He ducked to avoid their blows and, lifting one of the guards on his shoulder, slammed him
against the wall. Grabbing the hand of the last guard, he kicked him straight across the face.

“Looks like your preparations were a little incomplete.” Neel said, while the guards lay
around him panting and trying to get up.

Mehta smiled. “Not really.” he said. “I was curious to see whether you really were as
extraordinary as I had been led to believe. And I must say I am impressed. But now allow me
to give you a lesson…” he pressed a button on a curious device kept on the table near him.
“On the importance of strategy.”

Instantly, Neel‟s head was filled with a screeching sound.
It seemed to be coming from
every corner of the room. The noise overpowered his senses, numbing his brain. He shut his
eyes and sank to the floor, his hands on his ears. His fingers touched the drops of blood which
had begun to leak out of them.

“A little something I had prepared just for you.” Mehta
was saying. “I can‟t hear
anything, but your ears are picking up frequencies beyond 50000 hertz. That is the
disadvantage of having such sensitive senses.”

He nodded to the fake Mr. Sumoya, who quickly walked towards Neel, pulling out a
large bottle and emptying its contents into a syringe.

“I‟m sure you realize I won‟t find as in
teresting a subject as you for study anywhere.”
Mehta said politely. “So you won‟t be killed yet, but you won‟t be conscious most of the time
either. Its time you realized how dangerous the line of workyou‟ve chosen is.” The fake Mr.
Sumoya injected the contents of the syringe into Neel and stepped back. From inside the
speaker next to his ear, someone was shouting instructions from Swan Labs, but all he heard
were disjointed words as his head began to swim.

The guards had risen off the floor and were moving towards him. Neel knew he had
only seconds to act. He dove under the large conference table. But his movements were slow
and clumsy, and some of the bullets of the guards barely missed him. Head ringing, he lifted
the entire heavy table off the ground and threw it in their direction in a fit of desperate
strength. He saw that Mehta had no weapons, and was retreating from him. Seizing his
chance, he flung himself out of the window.

The ground rushed towards him, his disoriented senses making him misjudge the
distance, so that he landed hard on his hands instead of rolling to decrease his momentum.
Painful shock waves ran up and down his spine. The sound in his head was still there, and he
was starting to feel dizzy. He knew the drug was working in his body.

The complex was alive with security guards, all with their guns drawn and some with
vehicles. Taking a giant leap, Neel jumped over them, bullets flying past him, the night sky
making it difficult for the guards to see him properly. He felt sudden, intense pain fill his
body. But there was no time to stop. Like a wounded animal, he was operating mainly on
instinct now. Another giant leap took him to the top of a building. He fought against the sleep
threatening to overpower him as well as the pain in his body, and headed to the edge of the
complex. The noise in his head had mercifully stopped. Jumping over the boundary wall, he
thought he was safe for a few seconds. But then he spotted a black Scorpio coming out of the
complex towards him, filled with Mehta‟s security force. Neel saw the scene as though
through a haze as his drugged senses tried to take stock of the situation.

And then suddenly, present melted into unreality. His mind was back on the road to his
tuitions, and out of the corner of his eye, he was seeing a Tata Sumo hurtling towards him.
The Sumo hit him, and the world blew apart with pain. But instead of a Sumo, a Scorpio was
coming towards him, and his brain was telling him to save himself, but his body was not
responding…and a sumo was coming towards him…and a Scorpio was coming towards
him…And his body was suddenly shaking violently even as his limbs locked and refused to
move him out of the way.

The car crashed into him, the impact triggering a combination of pain and fear that was
all too familiar. And then for the second time in less than a year, Neel Dervin was thrown into
the air and landed in a heap on the road.

Neel lay without moving on the hard ground, breathing in unsteady bursts. Nightmare
flashes of the previous accident were tearing through his mind, making it impossible to
concentrate his rapidly deteriorating senses on the present. As far as he could tell, nothing
was broken. But his whole body was aching worse than ever. He saw the car coming back for
him, but there was nothing he could do to save himself. He was fighting hard just to stay
conscious.

Suddenly, there came the sound of a powerful engine from behind him, and a bike burst
into view, stopping in front of him. The biker wordlessly pulled Neel onto the rear seat, and
with the car only a few feet away, they raced off at ninety miles an hour.

At this point Neel‟s brain finally stopped struggling against the chloroform and he fell
into a deep sleep.

The bike raced ahead of the Scorpio, leaving it far behind. But Mehta had indeed
prepared well. Five bikes and two more cars had burst out of the Phlicer complex, and a
helicopter was rising into the air behind them. Hunter and hunted raced towards the city.

* * *

Neel saw a car coming towards him. A black, shadowy machine that grew bigger every
second. He stood frozen directly in front of it, not even attempting to move away. There was
a horrifying crash. Pain and nausea assaulted his brain, and he awoke from his sleep and sat
up with a jerk, his heart pounding. The head phones that had been attached to his ears flew
across the room and crashed into the opposite wall.

Neel stared around him, heart hammering against his ribcage. He did not have a shirt on,
but was wearing the black cargo pants. He was in his own room, lying in his own bed. Bright
sunshine filtered through the window. He checked the clock, and saw that he had slept right
through the time he usually woke up for school.

Neel closed his eyes tightly, trying to get his bearings. Everything that had happened
that night… Had it all been a dream? Or was this some sort of hallucination? Had he even
been to Phlicer Complex yet?

Suddenly he froze. He had shifted slightly in his seat, and felt something sticking to his
back.

Slowly, he put a hand behind him, and touched three plasters on his shoulders and lower
back. A chill ran through him as he realized he had been shot in three places. It had all been
real, and now, somehow, he was back in his house.

Then the thoughts started rushing. He remembered everything that had happened that
night. The feeling of nausea increased as he thought of how close he had come to dying,
alone and away from home. He remembered what had happened to him in front of the car,
and could not even begin to guess what had gone wrong with his brain at that moment. All he
knew was the mere memory of it terrified him.

He glanced at the dresser. There was a note lying on it. He reached for it and stared.
Something about the firm, clear writing told him at once whom it was from.

Neel,
You need to rest. Don‟t go to school today. DO NOT step out of the house for any reason.
We‟ll be in touch soon.

Arjun

Neel stared at the message, and was conscious of some measure of comfort. Things had
gone horribly wrong last night, but hewouldn‟t have to deal with it alone. Whatever the
problem was, Doctor Fahim and the others would be able to help him resolve it.

He went downstairs and found another note on the fridge, this time from his mother.
Neel,
I overslept horribly and need to rush.I‟m sorry I couldn‟t wake you up in time for school.
Looks like we were both really tired last night.You‟ll have to make your own breakfast.
Bread and jam and butter and milk in the fridge.I‟ll see you in the evening.

Neel stared around the kitchen, feeling numbed and strangely empty inside. The whole
house suddenly seemed to have a desolate air. What was he supposed to do now?

He spent the morning walking restlessly around the house. It reminded him of the day,
what seemed a lifetime ago, when he had waited nervously alone in his house before his first
visit to Swan Labs. But the nervousness he had felt then had been brought on by uncertainty.
This time, it was a much more concrete and sickening feeling of fear and nausea.

He remembered what Arjun had told him in the note, and tried to force himself not to
think about last night. But the fears were nagging and insistent, and he kept coming back to it.
He was able to remember everything that had happened at Phlicer. But he could not even
begin to sort it all out in his head. He remembered again the flashes he had had standing on
the road, and a spasm ran through his body. His legs were literally shaking, so that he had to
sit down. There were so many things about the whole incident that he didn‟t understand. So
many things that had gone wrong… He touched his back, again feeling a sickly chill as he
fingered the bandages.

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