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    Dr Chitrekar's Lie-in Clinic in Agripada was a semi-derelict two-storeyed structure. It stood at a slight distance from the chawls lining the thin gullies, opposite the YMCA. Its healthcare service had once been the pride of the people of the neighbourhood, who were very happy with the cleanliness and the sanitary environment at the clinic. So much so that it was rumoured that a famous local underworld don of yesteryears, who was afflicted with a potentially fatal disease, refused treatment at the swankier Jaslok Hospital, choosing Dr Chitrekar's instead.
    Dr Chitrekar had died many years ago, and the clinic had passed into the hands of a trust under the administration of Dr Chitrekar's grandson, who was not a doctor, but a professional gambler desperate to sell the property to the highest bidder to feed his gambling habit. The other members of the trust had refused to indulge the grandson and he, in turn, had let the clinic languish. The few doctors who still visited the clinic only conducted a cursory examination there. If the patients were found to be lucrative catches, they would be called to meet the doctors at their own private clinics.
    From time to time, however, some doctors used the clinic as a base for shady private treatments like inconvenient abortions for mistresses of valued clientele or hush-hush hymenoplasties for brides-to-be, who wanted to restore their virginity as a 'wedding gift' for their unsuspecting 'arranged' grooms. Sometimes, surgeries could also involve closing a gaping bullet or a stab wound. Needless to say, maintaining a high level of secrecy was crucial.
    It was one such doctor who was treating the still-in-pain Tanvir in an inner private room of Dr Chitrekar's clinic. Rabia was seated in the adjoining room, under the watchful eye of a heavyset female police officer. The strained expression on Rabia's face was proof of her ordeal and that she was reconciled to face more.
    As ACP Hani entered, the female officer took her cue and left. The ACP sat down in front of Rabia, who looked prepared for the worst. 'Tanvir is a good man,' was the ACP's opening line. Rabia's expression did not change. The ACP changed tack and went flat out, 'Your...friend...Aalamzeb, is one of the gunmen who came into Mumbai along with the 26/11 terrorists'
    This piece of information did the trick, Rabia looked as if she was about to faint. But what the ACP didn't tell her was even more deadly. Six months earlier, the ATS had come to know that one more motorized dinghy had landed somewhere along the eastern coast of Mumbai, along with the 26/11 attackers. In that dinghy were five people, including Aalamzeb, with a cargo of enough RDX to blow up three or four high-rise buildings in Mumbai. These men formed a sleeper cell, who would blend in with the local populace and wait for the right time to strike. They would accumulate the RDX at an attack point in a slow trickle, so as not to arouse suspicion. When the time was right, they would carry out a spectacular bombing attack, akin to the one on the World Trade Center in New York. To stop this from happening, ACP Hani, previously a trainer at the Counter Terrorism and Jungle Warfare College in Kanker, Chhattisgarh, had been summoned by the Maharashtra home minister.
    The scion of an aristocratic Konkani Muslim family, ACP Hani, despite protests from his genteel business family, had opted for the IPS after his graduation from Mumbai's St Xavier's College. During his probationary period itself, the dynamic young Hani had been spotted as 'a man who had a future' by his seniors in the Maharashtra cadre. He had been sent for specialized training to Israel with the Mossad specialists right after 26/11. Thereafter, he was deputed at the CTJWC because he had stood first in his counter-terrorism course, performing better than many an Israeli commando. During the past year, he had been given charge of a special cell that reported only to the home minister.