Chapter 14: The Roots of the Tree
The Nokia 1100 vibrated against Arjun's chest. It was 3:00 AM.
Arjun pulled the blanket over his head, creating a tent of darkness. The green glow of the screen illuminated his face, making his eyes look hollow and spectral.
"Report," Arjun whispered.
"Bhai," Mallesh's voice crackled through the speaker. "I found the owner of the Puppalaguda land. An old man named Narasimha. Seventy years old. Stubborn as a mule."
"And Satya?"
"Satya's goons paid him a visit yesterday. They offered him ten lakhs per acre. When he refused, they burned his tractor. They gave him two days to sign, or they said they'd burn his house next."
Arjun didn't react with anger. He reacted with calculation.
"Where is Satya now?"
"He doesn't go to the field, Bhai. He sits in his AC office in Jubilee Hills. He sends his dogs to do the barking."
"Good," Arjun said. "Listen to me, Mallesh. Go to Narasimha's house tonight. Take the boys. You sleep on his porch. When Satya's men come back tomorrow, I don't want you to talk to them."
"Then what, Bhai?"
"I want you to send a message. Break their legs. All of them. And tell them that this land is under the protection of the 'Company'. If Satya wants it, he has to come personally."
"Understood, Bhai. But... Satya is powerful. He has police protection."
"Satya has paid protection," Arjun corrected. "Paid loyalty ends when the bleeding starts. Do it."
He cut the call and slipped the phone back into the hidden groove in the floor.
When he sat up, he found Shiva staring at him in the dark.
"Why Satya?" Shiva asked.
It was the question Shiva had been holding back for two days. Why pick a fight with a random builder when the target was a Minister?
Arjun leaned back against the wall, stretching his legs.
"Do you know how a tree works, Shiva?"
Shiva frowned. "What?"
"A tree," Arjun repeated. "You see the branches, the leaves, the fruit. That's what everyone sees. But if you cut a branch, it grows back. If you pluck the leaves, new ones come. Virendar Rao is the tree. He is the face. He is the Minister."
Arjun tapped the concrete floor.
"But a tree cannot survive without roots. Roots live underground. They live in the dirt. They suck up the water and feed the tree. If the roots die, the tree turns brown and withers within a week."
Shiva's eyes widened slightly as he understood.
"Satya is the root," Shiva whispered.
"Exactly," Arjun nodded. "Virendar Rao is a politician. He cannot hold assets in his name. He cannot show five hundred crores in his bank account. So he needs a bin—a place to dump his black money. Satya Constructions is that bin."
Arjun stood up and paced the small length of the cell.
"I read the newspapers, Shiva. Every time Rao announces a new infrastructure project—a bridge, a road, a flyover—guess who gets the sub-contract? Satya. Every time Rao rezones agricultural land to commercial, guess who bought the land a month before? Satya."
Arjun stopped and looked at Shiva.
"Satya holds Rao's money. He washes it. He grows it. If I attack Rao directly, I attack the state. I get killed. But if I attack Satya... if I stop Satya from making money... then Rao starves."
"So the land in Puppalaguda..."
"The Outer Ring Road project," Arjun smiled coldly. "The government is going to announce the final alignment next month. That land is going to be worth twenty crores. Rao knows it. He told Satya to buy it cheap from the farmer before the announcement. It's a cash grab for the upcoming election."
Arjun clenched his fist.
"I'm going to block that deal. I'm going to cost them twenty crores. And when the money stops flowing, Rao will panic. And when a man panics, he makes mistakes."
The next day, chaos erupted in Puppalaguda.
It wasn't a war; it was a massacre.
Satya's goons, four men in a Sumo, rolled up to old Narasimha's farmhouse expecting an easy intimidation job. They carried lathis and petrol cans.
They didn't expect to find Mallesh and six hardened ex-convicts waiting for them with iron rods.
The fight lasted less than two minutes.
Arjun wasn't there to see it, but Mallesh reported it that night with glee.
"We broke them, Bhai," Mallesh said, breathless. "Two broken legs, one shattered arm. The driver ran away. We told them the land is closed for business."
"Did you mention the Company?"
"Yes. They looked confused. They asked who the Company is."
"Let them be confused," Arjun said. "Fear of the unknown is the worst kind of fear. Now, stay there. Satya won't stop. He will escalate. He will send the police."
"Police?" Mallesh sounded nervous. "Bhai, we can't fight the cops."
"You won't have to," Arjun said, his mind racing three steps ahead. "Who is the Circle Inspector of that area?"
"Inspector Goud."
Arjun smiled in the dark. He knew Goud. Not personally, but from the files he had read in the Warden's office. Goud was Rao's man, but he was also greedy.
"Listen to me carefully, Mallesh. Tomorrow morning, take two lakhs—use the gambling money—and go to Goud's house. Don't bribe him to help us. Bribe him to stay away for 48 hours. Tell him it's a civil dispute and he shouldn't get involved until the dust settles."
"Will he take it?"
"Goud would sell his mother for two lakhs. He will take it."
Three days later. The VIP Cell, Central Jail.
Arjun was sweeping the corridor outside the VIP block—a chore he volunteered for. It gave him access to the TV room where the political prisoners stayed.
The news was playing on a loop.
"GANG WAR ERUPTS OVER LAND DISPUTE IN PUPPALAGUDA. BUILDER SATYA KUMAR THREATENED BY UNKNOWN GANG."
The camera showed a fat man in a suit—Satya Kumar—shouting at reporters outside his office.
"This is lawlessness! Goons are stopping legitimate business! I demand police action!"
Arjun leaned on his broom, watching the screen.
Then, the camera panned to a man standing next to Satya. It was Virendar Rao.
Rao looked annoyed. He tried to wave the cameras away.
"It is a minor issue," Rao said, forcing a smile. "The police will handle it. We must not let criminal elements stop the development of the city."
Arjun saw the twitch in Rao's eye. He saw the tight line of his jaw.
Rao was angry. The twenty-crore deal was stalled. The farmer wasn't selling. And now, the media was sniffing around, asking why the Minister was so interested in a private land deal.
Arjun felt a dark satisfaction settle in his chest.
The arrow had hit the mark. The root was bleeding.
"Hey! 1179!"
A guard shouted, banging his baton on the wall. "Stop staring at the TV and clean the floor!"
Arjun turned slowly. He dipped the broom in the bucket of dirty water.
"Yes, Sir," Arjun said obediently.
He mopped the floor, humming a tune under his breath.
He was in prison, wearing a uniform that smelled of bleach and sweat. He was sweeping dirt for a living.
But outside those walls, he had just stopped a twenty-crore deal and slapped a Minister in the face.
Shiva walked by, carrying a stack of laundry. He looked at the TV, then at Arjun.
"It's working," Shiva whispered.
"This is just the scratch, Shiva," Arjun whispered back, scrubbing a stain on the floor. "Wait till we twist the knife."
Arjun knew Satya wouldn't back down easily. This was going to be a war. And wars required soldiers.
He looked at the prisoners in the yard. He needed more men. Mallesh was good, but he was just a hammer. Arjun needed a sword.
He needed someone on the outside who could think.
He thought about the contacts he had made in the library. The white-collar criminals. The fraudsters.
He needed a lawyer.
Arjun finished mopping and walked back to his barrack. The game had officially moved to Level 2.
The tree was shaking. Now, he just had to bring it crashing down.