Deluge of Crisis: Chapter 3
The room in which Mariska was standing, was bright and wide with interiors which seemed point perfect. The luxury it offered was enchanting. A fair young man in blue shirt and and black trousers entered from the door at the other end.
“Impressed by your punctuality Mrs. Mariska”, said the man.
“Nice place this; belongs to you?”, Mariska inquired in her famous exuberant manner.
“No to my boss.”, comes the reply.
“And may I know your boss’s identity?”, inquired Mariska with raised eyebrows and open mouth.
“No, you cannot”, was the firm reply.
“And what if I make it conditional to our dealings then?”, Mariska said as if challenging.
“You don’t have that much space”, said the man, trying to assert his superiority in the situation.
“I am not scared of you goons.” (Mariska)
“We are not goons.” (The Man)
“But you are behaving like…” (Mariska)
“I did not expect you to judge people and situations at such an early stage, Mrs. Mariska”, the man interrupted.
“Judgments are continuous in nature, Mr.”, Mariska replied firmly.
“Mr. Scholes, Narayan Scholes”, replied the man, with some pride.
“Whatever…I want to…wait a minute…Narayan Scholes…I’ve heard this before”, Marika said straining her memory. “Ok, I see, Mr. Narayan Scholes, you seem to be good friends with courts these days”, Mariska said slowly while trying retrieve information from within.
“That is part and parcel of the business, I am used to it.”, was the calm reply.
“Hmm…We’ll discuss it some other day, for now, what is the business, why am I here for?”, Mariska said with an expression often associated with diverting topic.
“Then may I request the gently lady to walk inside with me”, said the man, stretching his left arm towards the gate towards which he intended to take Mariska.
They both moved towards and entered.
–X–X–
It was dark. The darkest place he had ever seen with the open eyes. He wanted to shout as hard as he could but, such is fear, a plenty looks mere. There were thoughts running wild in his mind. He did not knew what to do, he never had to do a thing and anyways, at the moment, he could not do anything. He stayed there, stayed put, waiting for someone, someone who could and someone who would.
–X–X–
The Magnum disappeared from the scene as if nothing happened. The vehicle was crushed, as expected after such a disaster. Jack and the driver looked on, they both were still breathing heavy and were feeling something with which one would normally associate the word ‘Unbelievable’.
The taxi – a blue Ford Taurus – was along side them, plunged into the road fencing. Jack looked into the eyes of the driver as they sat down on a nearby rock.
“What should we do?”, Jack said without looking into the driver’s eyes.
“I can’t think of anything better than running”, was the reply.
“But your taxi…I am sorry, its all because of me, I risked you…knowingly or unknowingly but, it is my fault”, Jack said, sounding regretful.
“I am also a party…I should have concentrated on my driving…I panicked”, said the driver taking deep breaths. “What is your name?”, asked the driver, looking towards Jack for the first time since their conversation started.
“Jack, I prefer only Jack, a Business Analyst by profession. Whats yours?”, Jack replied to both – the question and the eye gesture from the driver.
“Neil Peterson, I am actually a student of Economics at the National University, drive a taxi to support my living, I have a younger sister to look after”, said the diver diverting his eyes from Jack.
“Rest of your family?” (Jack)
“A fateful night took them away…far away”, said Neil as his eyes began to moisten.
“Oh! I am sorry”, Jack closing his eyes.
Silence.
“What about your family my friend”, Neil said trying to be a bit more jovial.
“I can only say that, you are still lucky to at least have a sister”, Jack said looking down.
Neil could never understand why but, as soon as he heard it, his palms rested on Jack’s shoulder. Indeed, rare are brothers and rarer are brothers by pain. The sight was associated with a delightfully melancholic look. Two brothers – brothers by pain – sitting on a rock with green shrubs in the background and silence doing most of the talking.
–X–X–
The room in which Narayan and Mariska entered was something like a science fiction lab one sees in movies. Intolerably steel and white. There were a few people – twelve of them – working on their respective screens. In the center two men and a women sat on a sofa set with drinks on the table in front of them, almost waiting for Mariska.
“Welcome, Ms. Mariska, glad to have you here”, youngest among them stood up and greeted with a smile common to all us when in front of our guests. “I am Jerry Young, this is my father Thomas Young and my mother Monica Young”, the young man said introducing himself and the other two members in the room.
Do they really need an introduction. The Youngs. The famous Youngs, often know more for their charm and color than their billions circulating around the globe helping our requirements reach us and yes, ‘on’ rather than in time. Retailing and Logistics is what they probably call it technically. Thomas Young was a first generation entrepreneur, he left a low paying job and used a bicycle – the only thing he inherited from his father – to supplement his living and deliver others their goods. Rest, as they say, is history. Last year Mr.Thomas retired from the executive position of his company and since then his son is at the helm of the commercial and ‘other’ affairs his company is involved in.
Unlike his peers, Mr. Thomas, a genuine libertian, always considered charity as the best waste one could make of his money. Now it is unclear if that has something to do with his libertian orientation, but, he always favoured investments over donations. He once said that choosing to donate for development rather than invest, is like choosing to bomb the population to reduce it rather than using policy measures. Yet, early this year he had made an astonishing 30 billion worth of currency donations to setup a medical research lab whose sole focus would be to provide affordable medical help to all.
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Tags: Deluge of Crisis, Ford Taurus, Renault Magnum
Deluge of Crisis: Chapter 2
Inside a chilling dark room, a very melodious mobile ring tone rang. A man with short hair, dressed in dark suit was sitting on what seemed to be a luxurious sofa. His face and other room artifacts were not clearly visible, courtesy the darkness out there.
“Hello”, said the man.
“He escaped, we could not get the code”, voice came from the other side, sounding rather regretful.
“That is none of my business, I want the code by evening or else…”
“But it is almost impossible..”, the person on the other side interrupted.
“I repeat, that is none of my business”, the man in suit counter interrupted, this time in a more firm voice.
“I want more time, this evening is not enough”, the person said, more demanding than requesting.
“Till 10 p.m., not a fraction of a second more”, the answer came.
“One more thing”, the person stopped to take a deep breath, “Why do you need the code?”, the phone was hanged without a reply.
–X–X–X–
The wheels of the new wheelchair looked astonishing when revolving at that speed. A person was seated on it with his face being fully bandaged. The driver was racing the wheel chair towards its destination rather nervous. Moments after they assembled in open air, the driver was talking to another driver – a taxi driver. After a small discussion, the wheelchair driver deposited the bandaged person in the taxi backseat and folded the wheelchair before exchanging it for some currency with the bandaged person. The taxi was in motion.
–X–X–X–
Mariska was feeling diminutive standing in the lobby of the glass architecture. The ceiling was probably the highest she had ever seen. The spacious landscape of the lobby made her feel like an ant in a pyramid. Her eyes where just not failing to admire the beauty of the location she was in. She wanted to focus but, beauty fails the best. The greenery through glass almost looked perfect.
“Ms. Mariska, you have an appointment on the third floor”, a lady in formal Grey women’s suit suddenly propped up in the scene and caught Mariska inattentive. Mariska returned a confused glance towards her. The lady pointed out in certain direction and disappeared before Mariska could say anything.
Mariska walked in that direction to only to find a very high tech elevator waiting for her. The elevator had no door. As soon as she stepped on the elevator floor, a glass fence of about two meters in height surrounded her and a very ambient female voice said, “May I know the floor you wish to visit?”
“Third”, Mariska said, looking around for the source of the sound. The lift started scaling upwards. The architecture which, was beautiful from floor, was now amazing. The lift stopped and took a one eighty degree turn. “You are on the third floor”, the fence began folding out itself, “Thank You”, the ambient voice came again. A door again started to open on what seemed to be a wall. Mariska entered.
–X–X–X–
Currency worth two hundred. Not a bad deal. Not at all, thought Jack, as he was uncovering his bandage sitting in the back of the taxi. He was too good of a negotiator and it worked with the hospital ward boy. He was still feeling the pain but now, he was also feeling safer. But for how long? More than anything else, the phones around him seemed to be the biggest threat to him. Some thing was said to him over the phone and which invariably turned out to be true. Jack was somewhat happy that he did not wait at the location to verify the authenticity of the information given this time. A few fractures here and there were enough. At least for the time being.
Bump. A speeding Mitsubishi Lancer GTS bumped into the taxi from behind rather intentionally. Both men in the taxi panicked. The taxi driver pleged his bravery to the situation and accepted the challenge from the Maroon GTS. He started accelerating the taxi with a stern expression on his face.
“Will you tell me all about this?”, driver demanded an explanation as he was trying to outwit his challenger.
“Listen, I got a life threat over the phone in the hospital and I had to escape that place” was the reply.
“And what made you think my taxi was the best means for it?”, said the driver almost firing Jack.
“I wasn’t thinking about the best at all, I was thinking about my life nothing else.” was the counter argument.
“And not about others life, Right?”, said the driver with a quite legible frustration.
“Drop me down at a safe location if you are so uncomfortable”, said Jack almost ready to fight.
“The first thing I’d do, only if your life lovers in the lancer let me stop to drop you”, said the driver turning back towards Jack.
The driver turned his attention on the front view mirror. Horror struck his face, as also of Jack, a Renault Magnum was speeding towards them. Too close for comfort. A gap of seconds. The driver tried to adjust with the help of the steering and as he tried to that, the magnum rammed into the vehicle.
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Tags: Deluge of Crisis, Lancer GTS, Renault Magnum
Deluge of Crisis: Chapter 1
The white light was glowing dark right into the eyes of Jack. It was a long time since he last opened them. He could barely calculate the gap but, he could perfectly recollect that night. Not long before that night someone had told he him that he was standing on his turning point, he never liked that person but, now, there were very few, other than him, he was desperate for.
“Relax”, said the doctor as he slid his hand into his white gloves, “You will be perfectly all right, just a few fractures here and there, nothing serious.” Hilarious. A few fractures here and there, nothing serious; if not hilarious, what else could it be?, thought Jack.
Dr. Schiller was a distinct personality, despite inheriting one the countries largest banks from his ancestors, who had no doubts for doing so for their only heir or rather their only surviving heir, he choose to become a doctor. Many say his choice was quite justified given the circumstances he had been through but, not his shareholders, especially when his book on management lessons, yes! management lessons held the number one position for 82 weeks on the bestsellers chart. After all Management was in his veins.
Two days at the hospital and another two weeks at home was the prescription given to Jack for his recovery. He never liked being Idle but, some how he felt better, for all the fractures he suffered, his hands were perfectly mobile. Mobile. That person who, warned him of his fate, had called him on his mobile phone the same day of the incident, the number must be there. He started looking around with a tinge of excitement. He found nothing. “Sister”, he shouted putting everything his body could generate at stake, In came running a not so very young lady looking disproportionately concerned.
“What’s wrong my boy?”
“My belongings, where are they?”, the boy demanded.
“Oh you silly little brat, you had my brain explode for that?”, The symmetry of her nose was disgusting as she said.
“Be thankful that you are alive and don’t expect the same for your belongings.”, She remarked as she left.
Dejected. Not the first time, though. Jack pressed his lips inside his mouth and looked down towards his thighs and sat their silently.
–X–X–X–
Mariska Mizell, the twenty four year old investment banker was standing on the wayside, waiting for someone. The look was scenic, almost flawless (Green) grasses surrounded both sides of the road which was divided by a series of Yellow daffodils which were merrily dancing under the roof of deep Blue sky. But, Mariska was in no mood for for Green, Yellow or Blue, she was waiting for Black. A Black Aston Martin V8 Vantage. Four minutes into her wait, She could now see a Black Beauty, right behind two Volvo trucks, on the horizon. It looked gorgeous. For all her beauty, at the moment, she was feeling inferior.
The two trucks passed by. The car came in front of her and the door opened. She entered, not knowing where she was heading but, she was left with very few options.
–X–X–X–
After two rings Jack picked up the phone beside his bed in the hospital, An unknown male voice was on the other end of the telephone.
“Mr. Jack, you immediately need to get yourself out of there, your life is in danger.”
“Who the hell is this?”, Jack shouted. The fear was traceable through his face.
“You will get to know everything, first, for all good deeds you have done, please get out of there.” He said, sounding gravely concerned before hanging the phone.
Jack was now shivering and sweating. He was blank. No Idea what to do. Ideally he would have loved to jump of his bed and run but, the fractures ensured that he could not choose that option. He was there, lying, just short of crying.
–X–X–X–
The sleek speedometer inside the Vantage V8 was clocking around 140 mph. The dark cum bald man in the drivers seat was constantly exchanging words with some one on the other end of a microphone in a language which Mariska could not decipher.
The car reached a huge steel gate, the driver exchanged a few glances with the security officials out there as if talking through eyes. The door opened without anyone even touching. The car was speeding towards a huge, almost fully glass, architecture. The car stopped under a roof right in front of what seemed to the entrance to the glass architecture.
“This was all I was instructed for, you have to move inside on your own.”, The black man in the driver seat said, opening the door for Mariska.
She stepped out rather confused and equally scared. With all kinds of thoughts running through her mind she climbed the twelve steps upwards, towards the entrance door. The door parted in two halves, as she arrived in front of it. She stopped for a moment and took a deep breath.
It was a week of affairs, She was entering into another one.
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Tags: Aston Martin V8 Vantage, Deluge of Crisis
Fiction Work
This is a pure fiction work, any resemblance to any real life characters if purely co-incidental.
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