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Corrupted Justice: The Council, Part 1
Part 1
Sweat dripped down his beard onto the floor below him. The lack of air conditioning in the abandoned factory which Raghu Sardar and his five-man team had converted into a combination training ground and headquarters raised the Mumbai heat by at least 5 degrees Celsius.
The 55-year-old ruffled his beard with his left hand as he held a pistol in his right hand, staring directly at a boy knelt down a few feet away from him, blindfolded and his hands tied behind his back along with two of his friends. The man, or boy as Raghu thought of him, was Sackhcham Rajavade, son of Chief Minister Lakshmana Ragavade. The three boys in their early twenties shivered incessantly, gripped by fear. Sackcham was the most vocal of the lot. He had started out with a brash attitude some 60 minutes ago saying things like, “You don’t know what I can do. You have no idea what my father will do to you.”
Anger burned in him as he recalled what had happened just 10 hours ago. The last thing any father wants to see: his daughter, lifeless. He took her hand as a tear rolled down his cheek. A bleakness erupted in him. He had never felt so vulnerable before, so helpless, so lost.
Standing nearly 6 feet tall and pushing 230, Raghu had done it all. Joined the Indian Army right out of high school. Competed in both boxing and track…
