Page 46 of The Checkmate

“Many have suffered crossing paths with Tej Khurana, and you two won’t be exceptions,” he warned with a steely resolve. “This day will forever be etched in my memory.”

As their heated discussion continued, one of Kailash’s men interrupted their conversation, informing them that a while ago, Kailash’s wife and Tej’s heavily pregnant wife were seen entering the same hospital that was now engulfed in flames. Realising their innocent wives were caught in the fire, fighting for their lives, both Kailash and Tej rushed to the hospital to save them. Pratap rushed to check with the police and to send every help possible to the hospital to save the lives of the people trapped inside.

The Multi-Speciality City Hospital stood in tragic disarray; flames spread mainly at its upper floors. Kailash and Tej, with their hearts pounding with fear and desperation, raced through the smoke-filled corridors, their eyes scanning frantically for their beloved wives. Every room was engulfed in fire, and the acrid smell of burning debris filled the air.

Kailash was the first one to spot his wife, Sarika, who herself was seven months pregnant and had come to the hospital for a routine check-up with Tej’s wife. The raging fire had caught both the women off guard, trapping them in this inferno of death. Exhausted and suffocated, she gasped for air, unable to breathe, and collapsed in Kailash’s arms. Being severely asthmatic, the smoke made her condition worse.

“Sarika!” Kailash cried out, cradling her in his arms, his heart hurting at the sight of her suffering. “Don’t worry, I’m here,” he whispered, trying to soothe her fear and reassure her that everything would be alright.

He tried to carry her out of the room, but she halted him with a weak hand. Tej, wild-eyed and frantic, joined them.

“Where is Rukmini?” Tej asked her, desperately seeking his wife.

“She went into labour and has given birth. She is in there. Save her.” Sarika, summoning her strength, conveyed the shocking news.

Tej’s wife had delivered just before the mayhem erupted in the hospital. She pointed toward the room where Tej’s wife was with the newborn. Tej dashed into the room. Meanwhile, Sarika clutched her husband’s hand, revealing another heart-wrenching news. Tej’s wife had delivered twin boys, and one of them, the weaker one, was in the Neonatal ICU and needed to be rescued immediately as the NICU was also engulfed in flames just like the other rooms.

Confused and torn, Kailash helped Sarika to sit on a nearby bench and sprinted toward the Neonatal ICU. The cries of an infant penetrated through the chaos, his life hanging by a thread as the flames were blazing all around the room. Kailash scooped the child in his arms and raced back to Sarika. But it was too late. Sarika’s eyes were filled with love and sadness as she looked at her husband and the rescued baby in his arms. And then, with a faint smile on her face, she took her last breath, leaving behind a devastating void in Kailash’s life.

“No... Sarika. Don’t leave me. Somebody help, please,” Kailash cried for help, holding his lifeless wife and the innocent baby in his arms. His heart was consumed by a grief he could never forget.

Soon, the medical team and the firefighters arrived, and police took control, arresting the rebels who were responsible for the fire. The doctors examined Sarika, delivering their grim verdict—she and her unborn child were no more.

Swallowed by inconsolable grief, Kailash’s anguished cry reverberated through the havoc around him. Minutes later, he remembered that Tej had gone to rescue his wife and the other twin. Kailash and the medic team raced to the room where Tej had entered, but all they found was a pile of debris and a collapsed roof, sealing the fate of a man who had become a victim of his own choices. Looking at the state of the room, there was no way that Tej and his family would have survived this.

Kailash looked at the crying baby in his arms, the only survivor of Tej’s family. This innocent baby was orphaned on the very day of his birth. His cries broke down Kailash, momentarily making him forget his own pain of losing his wife and unborn child. He held the crying baby to his heart, trying to soothe him, and wondered about the future of this child. His father was the cause of the pandemonium that resulted in the deaths of innocent lives. Tej might have scummed to death, but his deeds would never let his son live in peace. He would be judged and accused of something he wasn’t even responsible for. No! He kissed the baby’s forehead before cuddling him to his heart again. He wouldn’t let that happen. The child’s cries quietened, and at that moment, Kailash came to a decision. The world would recognise him as a Shergill, not as the son of the traitor Tej, who had betrayed his own friends, family and nation.

“Ayaan,” Kailash murmured, gazing at the innocent soul in his arms. “You are a gift of God, just as your name suggests. You will be my son. You will be Ayaan Kailash Shergill.”

Kailash approached a doctor who had been overseeing the grim proceedings. With a heavy heart and a plea for understanding, he explained the situation. He implored the doctor to share with the outside world that Sarika had pre-delivered a baby before succumbing to the fire, and Tej’s family had not survived this tragedy. It was a crucial narrative that would safeguard Ayaan’s identity and protect him from the shadows of his father’s choices. The doctor agreed to Kailash’s plea to convey this version of the heart-breaking truth to the world.

CHAPTER 13

TEJ KHURANA

The sight of my wife’s half-burnt body on the hospital bed, with my son squealing and crying in the crib some distance away from her, and the entire room engulfed in flames still haunts me. Luckily, the metal crib had not yet caught fire, so my son was safe. That day, I lost too many things—my wife, the support of my friends and the shelter of my country. I didn’t even get a chance to grieve for my wife or take her in my arms one last time. I picked up my son, carried him in the crook of my arms and made a beeline towards the door to save us. The police had taken control of the situation and were on the lookout for the rebels who were responsible for this fire. Reality hit me hard. I knew if I walked out of that door, Kailash and Pratap would have me arrested in a jiffy. I would have to spend the rest of my life behind bars, and my son would be sent to some orphanage to be looked after because I knew none of my friends would want to raise my son, knowing I’d betrayed them and my nation. I couldn’t let that happen. I refused to get caught and spend my life in prison when I could be out there, living like a king and ruling the world. Hence, that night, I decided to end the chapter of Tej Khurana right there in the same hospital for the world outside.

I knew the roof of the room would collapse at any moment. So, taking advantage of that situation, I looked at my helpless wife one last time before sprinting to the already broken window. Tucking my newborn son firmly in my arms, I jumped out and onto the floor below. As soon as I jumped, the roof collapsed behind me, adding to my story that I died in an attempt to save my wife and son. For the world, Tej Khurana and his family were dead. But within me, the flames of hatred blazed stronger. I promised myself that one day, I would make a comeback so strong that the people who tried to cage me for my sins would shiver in fear at the mere mention of my name and presence around them.

It took me three days, but I eventually escaped to South Africa, all thanks to the underground connections I had established. They played a crucial role in safely extracting me and my son from Mumbai, ensuring our safe arrival in Cape Town. I had already made enough money to start my life once again and raise my son, Raghav, as I named him. Raghav Tej Khurana was my only heir, but I didn’t raise him with a silver spoon. I wanted my son to see the cruelty and uncertainty of life. I wanted him to become so strong and fearless that all our adversaries would think twice before challenging him. Raghav moulded himself based on my instructions and teachings. At the age of 15, he was ready to follow the path I had walked all these years to become an international mafia and the biggest supplier of arms and ammunition in the world. Yet, they say that no matter how much a child inherits from their father, they also carry their mother’s genes. Raghav was ditto like me in every way, in strength, sharpness and quick thinking, yet he still had a touch of kindness, a piece of his mother, her soft heart. It was his 13th birthday when I first asked him to shoot his personal bodyguard, the one who had always been his shadow since we came to Cape Town. The gun was empty, and Raghav didn’t know I was testing him. When I commanded him to shoot, he refused point-blank.

‘I won’t kill people just for the sake of killing them. If anyone hurts you or me, I will not spare them, Dad. But as long as they mind their own business, I won’t bother to dirty my hands with their blood. However, if they cross my path and hinder our work, I’ll be the first to pull the trigger,’ he had said.

His eyes showed no fear or guilt for disobeying my orders. Even though I didn’t like him defying me that day, his attitude made me proud. My son was finally ready to take over my empire. And now, in the last two decades, I saw in him the man I always wanted my son to be—a ruthless missionary who wouldn’t mind torturing his enemies until they either gave up or died.

When I established my own gang in Cape Town, I tattooed the back of my palm with the same Bat symbol that Kailash and Pratap had once agreed upon for our joint collaboration in politics. This tattoo was a permanent reminder of who my biggest enemies were now. Soon, that emblem became the identity of my entire gang, and we named ourselves ‘The Bat Syndicate’, the largest worldwide mafia group led by the Mastermind, whom the world didn’t know was Tej Khurana, the man they thought was already dead.

Though I had changed continents and was living a separate life here in Cape Town, I still kept tabs on Kailash Shergill and Pratap Walia for some time. Just like I lost my wife in that fire, Kailash, too, lost his wife in that same incident. A few days later, Kailash and Pratap had a major disagreement, once again revolving around the issue of law and justice, which Kailash was a strict practitioner of. I had already told them that Pratap’s elder brother, Nilesh Walia, was also my partner in crime in smuggling arms and ammunition and was involved in the pandemonium that broke out in the city that day. Kailash wanted Pratap to hand over the evidence, which he had confiscated from my home after the incident, to the police and let the law take its course to punish Nilesh for betraying the country. But Pratap refused to do so. Although he was willing to punish me for my actions, he could not bring himself to punish his elder brother in the same way. His own blood and family reputation mattered to him and he turned down Kailash’s demand, eliminating every piece of evidence that connected Nilesh Walia to me and the chaos that erupted that day. Using his influence and political power, Pratap bribed people and erased all proof of his brother’s involvement in the heinous crimes he had committed with me, thus wiping his brother’s slate clean. Kailash couldn’t digest that injustice, nor could he do anything to expose Nilesh Walia’s betrayal. Their once-strong friendship came to a bitter end, turning both of them against each other. It was the best day of my life to know that the three friends who had once promised to watch each other’s back had now turned their back to each other. Forever!

Over the years, I got busy expanding my Bat Syndicate, so much so that I lost touch with Kailash and Pratap in between. And then, six months ago, I saw him. Ayaan Shergill! There was an old video circulating in the news of Kailash Shergill’s journey as a social activist in India. It also had a few clippings of Kailash’s personal life, including a picture of Kailash with his son, Ayaan. The moment I saw that picture, I knew it. He was not Kailash’s son. He was my son. I was so sure because Ayaan had an uncanny resemblance to Raghav. The world might not see it, but I, as a father, could not miss the similarities in their personalities. But how was that possible, I thought? When I entered the hospital room to save Rukmini, there was only one baby next to her bed. Had she delivered twins? Why was my second son not in that room? Why was Kailash raising him as his son all these years?

I recall my wife often sharing her plans to give me a pleasant surprise when our baby arrived. At that moment, I was completely absorbed in hiding my identity as a local arms dealer and growing my business. Also, I was too busy to join Rukmini for her regular check-ups and neglected her during her entire pregnancy. Little did I know, her surprise was the revelation that she was expecting twins—a secret she had concealed from me.

All these questions haunted my mind, and I immediately decided to find out every little detail about Ayaan. I sent my men to India to gather information about Ayaan’s birth from where he was born, searching for hospital records related to Rukmini’s delivery. Unfortunately, all the records were destroyed in the fire that had engulfed the hospital that day. Also, my attempts to reach the doctor who had delivered my wife were futile, as he had passed away just three years prior. I tried to get hold of anyone and everyone related to that delivery, but all my efforts met with a dead end. It seemed as if there was no proof left of that fateful night. Left with no alternative, I immediately sent my men to Austria, where Ayaan lived. Their task was to compile evidence supporting the claim that he was unquestionably my son and not Kailash’s. They kept tabs on him and got samples of his hair from Ayaan’s regular salon. We used that for the DNA testing, and the test result cleared all my doubts. Ayaan was my boy, whom Kailash had raised as his own.

The instant I learned about this truth, I was pleasantly shocked. I had twins, and I didn’t even know about them. Now, nothing could stop me from taking my syndicate to new heights. With Ayaan and Raghav by my side, I knew I could achieve the impossible. I shared the story of that chaotic night with Raghav, who was equally stunned.

“I have a twin?” he asked curiously, examining the pictures of Ayaan that we had acquired so far.

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