Conflagration

Chapter 18: Partnership

Location: Checkpost between Delhi and Gurgaon

Imlie stole a sideway glance at Aryan as he drove the truck up to the check post. Judging by the nerve pulsing in his forehead and the tic in his jaw he was livid and she didn't think asking him how he had identified her would be a good question to ask right now. Instead she trained her eyes on the two cops who lumbered up to the truck tapping the driver side door and motioning Aryan to get down.

Aryan swung his legs and jumped down in a fluid motion.

Saluting both the policemen he drawled " Salam Sahabji (Good evening Sir)"giving them a sly grin.

"Whats in the truck?" the shorter of the two policemen asked regarding Aryan with uninterest.

"Nothing much Sahabji, I am moving some household stuff to Gurgaon for a client."

"Where is your license and registration and show me the papers for items you are delivering" the other policeman asked.

Aryan pulled out a sheaf of papers which included his fake id and the registration. The taller policeman looked the license over, comparing the photo on the id with Aryan. He looked at the registration next and finally turned over to the itemized inventory list.

"Open the truck, we need to look at what's in the boxes" the shorter policeman commanded heading towards the back of the truck with Aryan in tow.

"There is nothing there Sahabji, but you can look if you don't believe me. I am just a poor man working to make ends meet" Aryan said opening the half door of the truck.

Both policemen clambered in ripping open some of the boxes and eyeing the brooms, pots and pans spilling out in disdain.

"You have doubled my work now Sahabji, I will have to tape up those boxes again otherwise the client won't accept the delivery" Aryan complained.

Neither policemen answered, they both looked around once more before jumping to the ground and heading to the front.

"Who is this?" the taller policeman asked gesturing to Imlie.

"He is my chotu, he cleans the truck and does odd jobs for me."

"Does he have any identification?"

"Oh No Sahab, he has been with me since he was 10 years old. Gadha (donkey) hasn't learnt how to drive yet" he said deliberately watching as his jibe hit home.

Imlie squirmed wanting to throw something at the ACP.

"Nakchada akkadbhagga" she muttered under her breath incensed by the "gadha" tag he had just handed her. She driven tractors in Gadchiroli thank you very much and by extension, driving a truck was no big deal for her.

"You can go now" the taller one said handing Aryan's papers back to him.

With a jaunty salute Aryan climbed back into the truck and revved the engine.

The truck rolled past the check post, slowly gaining speed. A few hundred meters past the gate, there was loud blaring sound. Aryan whipped his neck to watch his side mirror as three police jeeps mobilized with their red and blue lights on and made a beeline for his truck.

"Sh*t!!" he swore, swerving to the right to avoid the truck in front of him and gunned his truck switching to the unpaved dirt road parallel to the road.

The squeal of tires sounded abnormally loud to Imlie and she clutched her seat hard as the truck bumped and rattled along, tree branches and plants slapping the windshield as they raced.