undercover

Part 9: Keeper

Author's note: I revised this chapter upon second thought. Sorry to all the readers who have already gone through it, hope you enjoy this revised version better.
Happy reading🫶

Present day:
Mehar stared into Tushars eyes, inches from him, her breath mingling with his.
She was about to say something when the man from earlier appeared with a tray, face lit up with a Cheshire cat smile.
Tushar almost pounced on him, before his eyes fell on the tray he held.
Something powdered, with an apple slice as garnish.
His thoughts raced to the first thing he thinks of when he sees apple seed and gasped escaped from him, "Arsenic."

Mehar seemed to have come to the same conclusion, as she followed the waiter out. Neither seemed to want to raise a commotion, and the same went for Tushar.
He followed them, stepping over the black bits of the device which had come to an untimely end moments ago. Judging by the black crumbs and where it had been placed, he could only guess that it had been a voice recorder.

He almost closed in on the distance separating him and Mehar when a worker cut him off. By the time he lighly moved the man moved aside, along with  his wagon of used utensils, the others were out the door.

The cold wind hit him when he opened the door, a stray leaf swirled about him when he looked both ways to see where she was.
As he set off in their pursuit, she stood out in the moonlight, her red dress, trailing behind, barely touching the ground as she sprinted.

The cobblestones beneath his feet fell behind, only to be replaced by others, when they started to light up.
Headlights from behind illuminated every ridge and crevice on them, and he was aware of the whirring of a motorcycle behind him.

It overtook him and swerved to a stop in front of him, and Tushar barely managed to keep himself from crashing into it. Dust rose from about the man atop the vehicle, his head masked by a black helmet.

His shirt barely was coming undone at his abdomen to reveal a tattoo on the right. But Tushar moved over and was about to take off again when the man pulled him back by the collar.

Even though Tushar claimed he was no longer Azael, he kept a part him locked deep inside. His past would catch up to him someday wouldn't it?
And so his hand reached over, grasping the arm on his neckband by the wrist and flung the man in front him.

The man he sent flying, although caught by surprise, arched in air and landed on his feet, looking the other way. He pulled his helmet off without waiting a beat and said, "get on"
Tushar faced Sarfaraz in confusion.
Pushing the other toward the bike and putting on his helmet again, Sarfaraz kicked his motorcycle alive.

Azael knew better than to not trust him but he had dealt with way worse, and decided to take a leap on faith, onto the motorcycle. The screen on his chopper with a path charted out to a moving target.
They raced over the jagged tiles, brushing aside the wines that dripped down from the foliage overhead and came to mouth of the basement.

Down the ramp lit with flickering luminescence, the waiter from earlier took a step toward Mehar.

Sarafaraz had been sent a signal from Mehar, and it set him on her track immediately.
It had told him all he needed to know, that she was going to be dealing with more than one person, and that they were going for a scare rather than an actual ambush.
He didn't question her judgement, he had learnt not to.

He reached down his pant leg, to retrieve the loaded gun he kept there, when they were interrupted by approaching lights.
Upon seeing them pausing, the driver of the Sedan honked aloud, before they could placate the civilian, the waiter took a leap.

Tushar and Sarafaraz glanced over their shoulder to see the sprinklers being set off. Even the flickering lights of the basement couldn't dim the brilliance of the flame in his hands, as he cut through the air, minutes for the very flame was vanquished by the falling water.

The downpour caused mayhem, an uproar and the man took off before Mehar could stop him. He seemed to be perfectly unhindered by the onslaught and seemed to know exactly where to go.
Mehars hands retrieved the gun strapped onto her garters and flung it at him. It landed clean on his thighs and she was about to resume her chase, when a loud gun shot echoed through the cellar walls, from somewhere behind her.

She ducked and turned back to signal Sarafaraz to stop his blind bout, but he didn't seem to get the message, when she turned back the man had disappeared.
In the background, gun gave up and only the thundering of the deluge remained.

The water dripped down her lashes, curtaining her vision. Mehar saw a note, through the corner of eye, that was almost swept away by the currents that had formed. She latched onto it and shielded the note with a bow of her head when a pair of hand held it off.
She looked up to face Tushar.

Thrusting the note into his hands, she dashed off to the exit on the other side. She had lost some time, but he was injured, she was sure she could still catch up.

The deluge descended on him, clinging to his clothes and the fold of the parchement revealed,
"Waiting for what's mine,
Love, Kanimozhi."