Chapter 2: Rage and Helplessness
Men broke through the police cordon, clawing and shouting at the edge of the iron cage: "Chhod do use! Hum hi insaaf karenge! Maar daalo, saale ko!"
The scene was utter chaos.
Some constables tried to hold back the crowd, sweat streaming down their faces, lathis raised, but the force of grief was stronger than the wood in their hands. The murmur of 'insaf chahiye!'—'We want justice!'—became a chant. Someone’s sandal flew through the air, landing with a slap near the iron bars, as the crowd surged forward.
And the man inside the cage watched it all with great interest.
He even grinned bizarrely, pulled down his pants, and spun in a circle.
It was as if he took pleasure in their pain, mocking their helplessness in the face of the law. Some of the younger police officers shuddered; old-timers muttered, "Pagal hai, bilkul pagal."
He spotted his adversary in the gallery.
In the nine-year-long pursuit, he had crossed swords with the police countless times, always evading capture—
Until he met the opponent of his life: Arjun, an expert in criminal behavioural analysis.
At that moment, Arjun sat near the cage, silently observing him. Arjun’s jaw was set, hands clenched tight on his knees, a faded photo of his daughter peeking out from his wallet. He rubbed his forehead, muttering a silent prayer, anchoring himself as the chaos raged around him.
Both of them recalled the day of their first confrontation.