The Collector- First Flight

“Passengers of Air India Flight AI-131, This is your Captain speaking. We are now beginning our descent into the beautiful Bangalore and the temperature outside is a cool 18 Degree Celsius. We are expecting a slight fog over the airport, nothing to worry about and will be landing in about ten minutes. I request everyone to get back to their seats ad strap in when the seatbelt sign goes on. Hope you had a pleasant flight, and wish to see you all soon . Thanking you for choosing Air India”. The captain switched off the intercom, and nodded to his co pilot, who eased the thrusters and flicked the switch to bring down the landing gear.
In the First class cabin, Dr. Suma Krishnamurthy smiled as she finished the novel, a 300 page poppy campus love story written by some IIT guy. The English was terrible and the book needed some serious editing, but at least there was a love story in there that had hit a good spot. She had picked it up from her daughters room back in Ahmadabad, and had finished halfway through it during her Taxi ride and the half an hour wait ( for the fifty five minutes flight, ridiculous!!) at the airport. She put the book back in her bag and casually glanced to the left, her fourth time in the past half hour , to look at the handsome young man sitting next to her.
He had a striking face, good raised cheekbones, a French beard that was fashionably cut, and lean, bony hands that held a National Geographic Magazine. She also Didn’t miss the Tissot Watch or the custom cut suit, and considering the fact that he was flying first class along with her, she was sure this chap was well off. Inherited wealth, maybe?. She wanted to flirt with him ,maybe spend a little time getting to “know” him, but she was in Bangalore on business, and had a very tight schedule indeed. Besides, she didn’t want to raise any suspicions.
Dr. Suma had a very specific skill set, not something that her professors back in AIIMS would have been proud of, but something that could afford this first class flight while her professors were curing leprosy in some god forsaken village. She was a finisher, of sorts. Not a paid assassin, No Sir,. For she was not physically strong, nor a trained marksman or a woman good with the knife. When Dr Suma, a skilled neurosurgeon who took a special interest in anaesthetics, her colleagues took it a s mere academic curiosity. But soon, she was flying all over the country, injecting people with a little extra dose, those few drops which , when infused into the correct nerves, brought about cerebral paralysis and almost certain death. There would be an autopsy, of course, and the blame would eventually go some junior intern who would be reprimanded, maybe banned for six months from practising medicine, but no one questioned the Honourable Dr. Suma.
Today she was assigned to finish off a senior bureaucrat, a meddling old chap who worked for the Lokayukta, the anti corruption squad. Her employers were powerful people, including, if her suspicions were correct, the Chief Minister. She was to induce a heart attack, technique she had recently developed, cutting edge medical science, if it was legal. She smiled, thinking of the things that she did now that seemed , strictly speaking, “not legal”. At first she had been done it just for the money, something that could pay for her exorbitant lifestyle, the flashy cars, the platinum jewellery and the secret boy toys. But soon, she started developing a certain pleasure when she watched life trickling away from a hapless soul. She didn’t like to admit it, but sometimes, in those majestic moments, she felt like God. And that was a bigger high you could got than from any other drug that these young guys did these days. She suspected if Mr. Black sitting next to her did drugs, and to what extent he would go to get his hands on some really good ones she had hidden in her secret compartment of her American Tourister bag.
She glanced sideways again, past the handsome Mr. Black, and in the early morning sun ,could just make out the faint outlines of a few buildings as the flight began its Final descent. He was near the final pages of the magazine, which had some pictures of, yawn, water buffaloes!! Which young chap read about water buffaloes these days? “ They are fascinating creatures, water buffaloes..” the young man said, seemingly reading her mind. He must have caught her stare, for he was now looking straight at her, smiling. He had strikingly black eyes as well , and a square jaw which sat well on his oval face. He must be a model ,she thought. She was about to ask him the same, but caught herself at the last moment and blurted out ,” Ohh. I didn’t mean to intrude”. Foolishly.
“Hey that’s okay, I was just Dying to tell someone how stupid this article is anyways. Those guys at Nat Geo got it all wrong”, he began, with a vigour that turned her on. MR Black pointed at the picture as he spoke animatedly“ It says here that water buffaloes are decent swimmers but can only run in short sprints, but I can vouch against that. Plus they say Water buffaloes cant clear hurdles over three feet, but I have seen one that easily jumped six feet, atleast. And to add that they say these marvellous creatures have relatively less cranial capacity, well that is just plain insulting!!” He spoke as though he had known water buffaloes all his life, but she thought all Mr. Black had seen was probably some photos in another magazine and some documentary movie. People tended to know a little and consider themselves subject matter experts, and Dr Suma loathed it. But she wouldn’t mind hearing to this piece of eye candy’s rant ,even though it was about water buffaloes.
“Oh Sorry , here i am ranting about Water buffaloes”, Mr Black said, finally realizing that the graceful lady sitting next to him might not be interested in water loving cattle which lived in the forest. “ I am Ya...”, he began, extending his strong hands, and seemed to check himself before he said ”Yash! I am Yash.” Too late, she figured he was using a false name, but wondered Why? Was he also a boy – toy (Yaaay) , and , If Yes, what was his asking rate? “ And You are Dr..” Hema”, She finished. “Dr. Hema. Hey how did you know i was a doctor? “ She asked, amazed. “ You wear small frames, usually preferred by Doctors. The way you turned the papers on that book had a certain delicacy, again, something surgeons would do. Plus, I saw the air hostess nod at you twice, indicating she knows who you are. Since you are not a celebrity and certainly don’t look like a secret CBI officer, i figured, You must be a doctor. The flight crew knows where doctors are seated on any given flight, if something was to go wrong.” Wow, Beauty and Brains, she thought. She was liking this guy moe and more . Perhaps she would extend her stay in Bangalore after all.
“ That was all hogwash though. I just asked the lady at the check- in counter who my co- passenger was, and se said it was a lady Doctor. “ He said , smiling shyly. There was something devilish in that smile, she thought. “ Very good young man”, she said, her heart racing, wondering how she could take this conversation forward.” So you are surely not a general practitioner, for general practitioners don’t fly first class”, he said. “ Rich husband”, she lied, not wanting to delve deeper about herself. “ Just here to see an old friend. And You ? What does Bangalore hold for a dude like you? Surely you are not landing here to hone your detective skills. And you are way too young to be a CEO. Business? “ Yeah , Exports”, he said briefly. “Family owned?” she asked. “ Yeah, something like that . You could say we are exporter s by birth”, and with this, he burst out into a laugh, at a joke that only he seemed to find funny. The seatbelt Sign came on, and they both buckled in, as the buildings outside became more visible.

“So what do you Export?”, she asked, curious to know how far Yash will take his lie. “Souls”, he said, turning to her and smiling. “Soles, you mean shoe soles,f or Reebok and the likes, right?” she asked. “ No Mam, not Shoe Soles. S. . O.. U..L..S.. Human Souls. The one with a U”, he said, turning to her and gripping her hand.

“ So will this be your last “friend?”, He asked his voice becoming a bit sharper. “Umm.. I don’t get you?” , she said, a faint suspicion in her voice. “What do you mean, Last Friend?” “ I meant , Dr. Suma, will this be the last person you will be sending off this planet. ? “ She was shocked. How could he know? She felt a thud as the wheel s hit the tarmac, but she was immobalized, mostly due to fear. “ Your Husband is NOT rich , Dr . Suma. He is a thieving cunning bastard who sleeps with whores and steals money from ordinary people. Nor are you a simple doctor, but a lady who has sent more than twenty souls to the Netherland, most of them before their time. You have been hired to kill someone in Bangalore, and next month,you are off to Mumbai to kill a business tycoon, for his greedy son. You are a cunning bitch who takes the very lives she had signed up to protect. You are a disgrace to humanity, Dr. Suma, but it all ends now!! I like my job, Dr. Suma, and I HATE COMPETITION ” were the last words she would ever hear.. Dr. Suma wanted to scream, but she was paralyzed, and this time, she knew, not due to fear.There was a loud jerk and everyone around her were swaying as the airplane jerked violently. She looked at his black eyes, which were staring at her , cruelly. His mouth was drawn in an ugly smile, and she saw with horror that there was something inside his eyes, something red. He punched a hole in the cabin as though it was made out of paper, and soon, hell opened up to Dr. Suma. The last thing she felt was a sharp pain below her jaw as Yash slit her throath with a piece of metal, and in her blurring vision, she saw him smiling that devilish smile at her,flames all around him. Her death was quick and swift, like her patients.
“Passengers of Air India Flight AI-131 had a miraculous escape when the aeroplane skidded off the runway and one of its engines caught fire. Luckily, a major disaster was averted as the pilots quickly steered the aircraft into a rough patch of grass. The only casualty of the day was Dr. Suma Krishnamurthy, a noted neurosurgeon who was hit in the neck by a scattering piece of debris. This is Sanjana reporting Live for CNN IBN, for Bangalore”.
The news reporter signlled a cut, and looked at the smoking aeroplane in the background with awe. A tragedy averted indeed. She was still wandering about how there was that one small hole near the first class cabin. Looked like some one wanted Dr. Suma to die, badly. If your time comes, well , IT comes, mostly riding a water buffalo.

Prologue: This is the first story in the Collector Series of short stories I am planning to write.. It’s based on the modern day ( Ya... Call him Yash.. :D). Comments and suggestions are most welcome.