Ruban slipped out of a side door, escaping the stifling confines of the IAW headquarters. The landscaped lawn beyond was usually airy and open, infused with the mingling fragrances of blooming flowers and freshly-cut grass.
‘Usually’ being the key word, here.
Today, the ambiance was a bit different.
No sooner had Ruban’s boots hit the grass than he was engulfed by a sea of flashing cameras. A chorus of voices clamored for his attention as microphones were thrust into his face.
A pack of reporters – representing news outlets both big and small – swarmed him. Vying for the juiciest soundbites.
“Are you going to sue the Department of Defence for this flagrant miscarriage of justice?” demanded a willowy young woman with striking green eyes. “If anyone’s entitled to seek redressal under the law, surely it’s you?”
“After everything you went through to capture that Aeriel alive!” A middle-aged man with thick brown hair spluttered his indignation, the distinctive logo of WNN flashing on his lapel. “I can’t imagine the betrayal you must be feeling right now.” He clicked his tongue. “To have your own government throw you under the bus just to appease Vaan.”
The media was incensed. Which was only a reflection of the public outrage that was sweeping through Ragah.
And at the heart of this outrage was Heiqaa.
The Department of Defence, with the IAW’s apparent blessing, had decided to release Heiqaa into Vaan’s custody.
Needless to say, this unilateral decision had raised more than a few eyebrows.
Ruban’s dramatic capture of Heiqaa was still fresh in the public memory. As was his bloody, open brawl with Ashwin over whether to kill or imprison the captured Aeriel.
From the perspective of an outside observer, Ruban was the victim here. He’d risked his own life to capture Heiqaa alive, so she could stand a fair trial and receive just punishment under Vandran law.
Only for the Department of Defence to hand her over to Vaan on a silver platter, completely disregarding Ruban and his sacrifice.
The whole country was enraged by this senseless, autocratic decision. But nowhere did the righteous fury burn hotter than in Ragah.
After all, it was in this city that Ruban had fought the prince of Vaan himself, over Heiqaa’s fate.
For some reason, this had instilled in the citizenry a peculiar sense of ownership, both over the incident and over Heiqaa herself.
And they were not going to stand idly by as their prized captive was ripped from their grasp – just so the greedy, out-of-touch elite could kowtow to Vaan for their own profit.
The thing was, Ruban knew something the general public did not.
It wasn’t the Department of Defence that’d made the decision to release Heiqaa. It was Dhriti Pathak. And she hadn’t had much of a choice in the matter. Not if she wanted her own ass covered, which would always be her first priority.
They’d spent the last few days thoroughly investigating the documents he and Ashwin had retrieved from the HAVA headquarters.
In essence, their investigation revealed that most of HAVA’s funding came from a network of shell companies, with a majority being offshore entities linked to Tej Enterprises. Among these were TeleTrax and Zelix. Although Zelix at least was registered domestically, making it slightly easier to investigate.
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Another offshore entity associated with Tej Enterprises had been one of the major investors in the abandoned commercial development project that now housed the HAVA headquarters.
Dhriti, for her part, had strong ties to Tej Enterprises. She also wielded significant influence in the Department of Defence. Both of these facts were indisputable. That being the case, the revelation that Tej Enterprises was funneling money to HAVA indirectly…would look particularly bad for her.
In fact, it wouldn’t be too difficult for a skilled lawyer to argue that Dhriti was the only person with both the motive and the means to supply Viman Rai with a reinforced sifblade. The one he’d used to attack Safaa in Vaan, leading to his death.
Predictably, Ashwin had handed the results of their investigation over to Safaa.
Who, in turn, had wasted no time using the information to blackmail Dhriti Pathak. In order to secure Heiqaa’s release.
Not that Ruban was too torn up about it. Sooner or later, they’d have had to come up with a way to free Heiqaa. They couldn’t very well let her be sentenced for a crime she’d only committed at their request.
And he was just glad he wasn’t being asked to help stage a jailbreak, this way.
“Will you be petitioning the defence minister for clarification regarding his plan to release Heiqaa?” demanded a petite, curly-haired woman, missing Ruban’s nose by a hair’s breadth as she thrust a microphone into his face. “I’m sure there are thousands of people in this city who’d lend you their support, if you decide to challenge the Defence Ministry on this issue.”
Ruban recognized her instantly from previous encounters with the press, as Rohini Pillai from The Ragah Times. For some reason, the fiery little woman always made him think of a younger – and much shorter – Casia Washi. One who’d yet to replace her uncompromising idealism with jaded practicality.
Well, she was asking. So he might as well give her an answer.
After all, it wasn’t every day that Ruban found himself the beneficiary of her fiery zeal, rather than its target. No point wasting the opportunity.
“What’s the use in petitioning? Everyone knows what the plan is.” Ruban’s voice came out more desolate than he’d expected. “There are high-level government officials and ministers in league with Vaan. There always have been.
“They’re the loudest opponents of an official alliance between earth and Vaan. They claim such an alliance will impinge upon our independence.” He snorted. “They wouldn’t know ‘independence’ if it bit them in the rear. The real reason they fear an alliance is because it’ll crash the price of Aeriel feathers. That’s an open secret. Who’d sell a kidney for some scrappy black-market feathers, with the Aeriel queen handing the stuff out for free?
“That’s what terrifies them about the Vaan alliance. That it’ll destroy one of their major sources of revenue. They’d rather humans and Aeriels keep fighting and killing each other forever. So feather prices will stay high, and they’ll keep making more and more profit every year.”
He felt a pang of guilt for dragging Rifaq Nazir into this. The defence minister was as clean as any politician could be, so far as Ruban knew.
But singling Dhriti out would look suspicious. Because even if Rifaq privately opposed her decision to release Heiqaa, he hadn’t criticized her in public. At least not yet. So, from an outsider’s perspective, Ruban had no reason to believe the defence minister was any less culpable than Dhriti.
Still, he wasn’t too worried. The moment someone bothered to look closely into the matter, they’d realize that Dhriti was the one with the most to lose, if the alliance with Vaan came to fruition.
During their investigation, they’d looked into Rifaq’s finances. Just to cover all their bases.
And at least on the surface, it seemed the man had no vested interest one way or the other. So his opposition to the alliance was almost purely ideological.
The stunned faces of the surrounding reporters told Ruban how completely his candor had caught them off guard. They hadn't expected him to speak so openly about his grievances. Had, if anything, been fully prepared to pry each honest word from his mouth with a pair of pliers.
Now, they thought he was emotionally overwrought. Agitated by the prospect of Heiqaa being handed over to Vaan, to the point that he could no longer control what he said to the media.
Which was fine by Ruban. He’d gladly risk disciplinary action, even suspension, if it meant taking Dhriti Pathak down with him. And for that, there would never be a better opportunity than the present moment.
The secret offshore subsidiaries of Tej Enterprises had been exposed. And the Defence Ministry's popularity was at an all-time low, due to their role in releasing Heiqaa. Hence, at this moment, Dhriti Pathak was as vulnerable as she would ever be.
And if Ruban couldn’t capitalize on this opportunity to strike a decisive blow today, surrounded by these reporters, he knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life.