sample copy. not for distribution. · souvik roy . sample copy. not for distribution. 4 about the...

Sample Copy. Not For Distribution.

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ABHINASH CHAKRABORTY: - A PUZZLE IN PIECES

BY SOUVIK ROY


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EDUCREATION PUBLISHING

RZ 94, Sector - 6, Dwarka, New Delhi - 110075 Shubham Vihar, Mangla, Bilaspur, Chhattisgarh - 495001

Website: www.educreation.in __________________________________________________

© Copyright, 2019, Author

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, optical, chemical, manual, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written consent of its writer.

ISBN: 978-93-5373-043-7

Price: Rs.200.00

The opinions/ contents expressed in this book are solely of the author and do not represent the opinions/ standings/ thoughts of Educreation.

Printed in India


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Acknowledgements:

There are a lot of people without whose support and enthusiasm I couldn’t have entered the world of writing. What inspired me the most was my tuition teacher and brother Sitaram sir’s words which can be translated as “The best way to live is to die for your dreams. “ Since then he has supported me a lot. A My father is the most beautiful man I know and the most successful failure. Behind his failure of being able to act as my guardian due to his paralysed condition lies his success of teaching me to be self-sufficient. He has been a keen editor for my works and a great supporter as well. Another editor like that was my late aunt. My teachers at Mahavir Institute of Education and Research have also played a huge role in motivating me to choose my dreams above everything else. A special mention to Mr. Monoshij Mujumdar and Mrs. Mousumi Chatterjee for being the first reviewers of my first book “Highs and Lows”. Special mention to my friends for their support especially Shubham, Manish and Kaustav for believing in me more than myself. Now comes the person who is the best friend and love of my life. The Late Mrs. Nandita Roy, my beloved mother. I dedicate this book to her wholeheartedly.

Souvik Roy


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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Souvik Roy (14th June, 2001) is a former student of Mahavir Institute Of Education And Research (2019 batch) and a Computer Science student. He calls himself a passionate reader and writer who has a small spark of a painter within himself. He is the winner of allocates from both scientific and literary fields with the gold medal from Bharti Bhvan being his most cherished possession.


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INTRODUCTION:

Harsh Reality: The truth is that behind the peacekeeping agencies work the various intelligence departments of the countries who are always engaged in a cold war against each other. From the introduction of automated armoury to advanced assault rifles. Encoded security systems and ballistic missiles every country is progressing in terms of weaponry. They think that “Keeping Peace Means Keeping the Bigger Stick”; this is a dialogue that I heard being said by Robert Downey Jr in one of his movies (supposedly iron man). Thus in the name of peace and war prevention or backup, every country is busy expanding its power and prepare itself for future wars. With this level of paranoia they turn their defence into offence, patriotism into nationalism and peace into war. These insecurities lead to misconceptions. I have this vision that one day this very thing would end up being the cause of a war. This


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novel raises a voice for those whose patriotism is used to turn them into assistants of war mongers. For those brilliant minds who are exploited. For those who deserve so much better from this world. I am looking forward do those days when defence and offence, which are by default turning into same slowly, would be deemed unnecessary one day. One day every country will witness true harmony and peace. One day KEEPING PEACE WOULD MEAN HAVING A BIGGER HEART. I might be among those few hopeless dreamers but I am looking forward to the day when there would be a lot more dreamers like me. More fools like me. With all these cunning power hungry politicians hell bent on creating hell, maybe the country does need some selfless fools who would actually put forward their country before themselves and chant with pride the divine words: JAI HIND Dedicated to the brave spies of the country who remain unrecognised despite their massive contributions towards our wellbeing.

(The names of characters and some places as well are

purely fictional)


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PROLOGUE: During those i ll -fated moments I could not join his struggle. I remember his blessed narration appropriately, especially the staunch details with which he expressed his agony that those horrifying moments had engraved in his mind. That day he was wounded both body and mind. However his inappropriate belief of not possessing a soul kept him alive. Cuffed in chains and almost immobile after experiencing a shower of merciless lashes of torture for a span of three days, brutally injured with torn skin exposing his f lesh and a blurred left eye vision due to swelling made it hard f or him to hang on to his promise of travell ing to the beautiful hil ly region of Kashmir with Durga after their marriage. It is said that our times of adversities are shared by our beloveds even when they are not physically present among us. Durga’s absence proved that to Abhinash. Even in an all beaten up condition he could witness f lashes of her lovely black eyes and that sugary smile of hers cheering him to hang on to l ife.

With the last ounce of his strength he got up only to fall down again as his movements were being restricted by the cuffs connected with short yet strong chains. He could not identify the material of those chains. They were too weak to qualify as steel but were stronger than iron. He suspected them to be made of a special alloy with a proper tensile strength as they were capable of holding him down. The material was not rust proof at least and thus rubbing them against his open flesh could pose a threat of infection. Abhi could only curse his situation. He wanted to pluck his hair to cut off his distress or at least sit in the occult position he used to in order to formulate his next move. His spirit was about to break. For a hardened man wolf whose entire life had been a misspelt word, he was not


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new to torture but these goons were something else. Their torture techniques could fail those of the Vietnamese. From bone breaking death blows to thick whips which could make a wolf cry for a breath of relief; they had everything in their arsenal to make any tough-edged monster or brute to cry like a child asking for the lights to be turned on. Abhi was a man with nerves of steel and a spirit so incorrigible that he was able to take all of that bone chilling and nerve tearing pain and yet refuse to yield. Even if he did yield, he did not have the info he was being tortured to spill out. With every bone, every muscle and every cell trembling for a drop of merciful touch to reduce their dreadful agony Abhi gathered some strength to raise himself against the wall. He was bleeding badly, so badly that the smell of his blood was more prominent than the rotting rats on the dusty floor of the cell he was kept imprisoned. He looked around the cell to find a possible escape route. There were no vents or underground pathways. He was stuck. Then all of a sudden his helpless hands searching the walls in despair touched something. A piece of rock on the rough unparalleled wall that proved to be a leaver. A switch that triggered or opened a compartment. A rectangular hole within the wall where he found a diary. It was a familiar cryptic type diary with a password arrangement for safety purposes. A wrong password could spill the concentrated acid in the silt and corrode the writing. Password was to be entered through the embossed letters which were to act as switches. He tried to calm down his mind trying to neglect the amazement and elements of surprise that were striking his never existing soul (as he believed). He recalled everything that he went through since the start of his unpredictably horrifying investigation that turned out to be more


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bizarre than the most unbelievable fantasy novels written for five year olds. He believed that the password is….. Footsteps were heard and at once he prepared himself for a session of interrogation that he knew would come eventually. However if his gambling was correct then this time he had an offer to make. An offer that could turn the table upside down. A checkmate that he was waiting for. And if dear fortune was actually a woman as Shakespeare believed and if she had fallen for the suave lad Abhi then the checkmate was inevitable.


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Contents:

PART 1: Mysteries and Complications:

Chapter 1: Reunion with an Old Pal Chapter 2: The Real Plot Unveiled Chapter 3: A Complicated Lead Chapter 4: Guns and Girls Chapter 5: The Puzzle for Me Chapter 6: The Friendly Guest Chapter 7: Mr. Rudolph Chapter 8: A Not so Peaceful Morning Chapter 9: Another Diary with another Story

Part 2: Friends and Foes Chapter 10: The Act of Deception Chapter 11: A Thrilling Story Chapter 12: Knowing Alicia Chapter 13: The Chase Chapter 14: A Precarious Tunnel Search Chapter 15: Enter the Tunnel Chapter 16: The Mystery of the Cryptic Diary Chapter 17: The Vulnerable Self of Abhinash Chapter 18: One Hell of a Story Chapter 19: Nate River Chapter 20: A Turning Point, Part - 1 Chapter 21: A Turning Point, Part – 2 Chapter 22: Meeting Mister Rudolph Chapter 23: Breach of Trust Chapter 24: The Tunnel War Chapter 25: The Taste of Defeat Chapter 26: The Abduction


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Chapter 27: True Plans Unveiled Chapter 28: The Letter


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