Chapter 220: Kidnapping both mom and son
Meanwhile, at the crossroads near a roadside dhaba a few miles away from GPS School, the sun blazed hot overhead. Only a handful of men passed by the small food stall. A van sat parked lazily with its front door open.
Chetan sat in the corner of the seat, legs stretched out, staring at the photo of a woman in her mid-thirties on his phone. His eyes were fierce as he focused on her image, as if trying to burn every detail into his memory.
A voice soon interrupted his concentration.
"Chetan bhai, you’re going to burn a hole through that photo with your stare alone."
It was Robin, approaching with a spare glass of tea while sipping his own.
Chetan took the glass and sneered. "Kid, in our line of work, it’s important to memorize the target. One stupid mistake and you might never get a second chance to regret it."
Robin nodded, understanding the weight of the situation. Earlier, Rohit had instructed him to kidnap a lady — a teacher from his school. A flicker of doubt crossed his chest. Was it really worth kidnapping a teacher from a well-known school? Was she innocent, or had she somehow provoked his young master enough to warrant this?
The thought quickly faded under the weight of the payment. He was already committed.
I don’t care anymore, as long as I get paid. If I don’t do it, someone else will.
He forced the doubt aside and refocused.
Chetan clicked his tongue and checked the time. It was already 2:10 p.m. — nearly time for school to let out and for their target to appear.
"You sure she’ll come out from the same gate?" Chetan asked. "Your boys are waiting, but I highly doubt those greenhorns of yours will be effective."
Robin chuckled just as his phone vibrated. "We might not be as cruelly adept as you, Chetan bhai, but we do—" He paused mid-sentence and looked at the screen. It was a message from Kaushik, the one he had put in charge of trailing the target.
[Kaushik: The target has just left the school. There’s another person with her — a student in uniform. Might be a relative. Following them closely. She’s taking the path we expected.]
Robin frowned. "Fuck..."
Chetan smirked. "What happened, expertise? She slipped?"
Robin gave him a serious look, then shook his head. "She’s on the same path, but someone’s sticking close to her."
Chetan downed the rest of his hot tea in one smooth motion. "Then get moving. We’ll take both of them."
***
Near the School Gate, Mrs. Briganza drove away from the school gates with both hands tight around the steering wheel.
Her son, Rocky, sat beside her in complete silence.
He knew better than to speak.
His mother was furious.
Only an hour ago, she’d been expecting good news. After her meeting with the dean, she had every reason to believe that her promotion to regional vice principal would be finalized the following month.
Instead, thanks to the stupidity of a few students—and her own son’s involvement—her standing before the principal had taken a serious hit.
And what infuriated her most wasn’t even the students.
It was the principal.
For months, the man had showered her with attention whenever it suited him, filling her ears with promises and making her believe that he would stand behind her when the time came. Yet the moment her position became inconvenient, he’d discarded her as casually as a pawn he no longer needed.
Her husband wasn’t any better.
He was too consumed by business, money, and maintaining connections outside the family to concern himself with her problems. If he’d been even remotely useful, perhaps she wouldn’t have needed to depend on other men in the first place.
And now Rocky had managed to make matters even worse.
Men. Every last one of them is useless.
Her eyes flicked toward the rearview mirror.
Rocky was grinning stupidly at something on his phone.
Her grip tightened around the steering wheel.
Just wait until we get home. I’ll wipe that grin off your face.
She was already imagining how she would vent the day’s frustration on him when—
A motorcycle suddenly shot across the road.
Mrs. Briganza slammed on the brakes.
The bike skidded sideways and crashed directly in front of her car.
"What the—?"
The rider tumbled onto the road.
Mrs. Briganza’s temper flared instantly.
"Stupid nuisance."
She threw open her door and stepped out, ready to unleash her anger on the careless rider.
She didn’t even get the chance.
A van pulled up beside her.
Its side door slid open.
Before she could understand what was happening, a sharp blade pressed against her waist.
A cold voice spoke beside her.
"Don’t make a scene. Get inside."
Mrs. Briganza froze.
Her anger vanished.
For one terrible second, her mind simply refused to process what was happening.
"Mom!"
Rocky’s frightened voice broke through the shock.
But before he could do anything, another motorcycle appeared on the opposite side of the car.
The rider stopped beside Rocky’s window.
A knife rose toward the teenager’s neck.
"Quiet," the stranger warned. "Or both of you die."
Rocky’s face drained of color.
Mrs. Briganza stared at the blade against her son.
All the anger she’d carried out of the school disappeared beneath a surge of fear.
Her lips parted, but no words came.
Chetan didn’t give her time to recover.
Keeping the knife close, he seized her arm and smoothly guided her toward the open van door.
"Move."
She stumbled forward.
Behind her, Rocky remained frozen in his seat.
The man beside him clicked his tongue.
"What’s wrong, kid? Didn’t you hear me?"
It was Kaushik.
Rocky swallowed hard and immediately stopped moving.
He climbed out and entered the back of the van without another word.
Chetan shoved Mrs. Briganza into the front passenger seat and climbed in after her.
By then, a few pedestrians had begun looking toward the fallen motorcycle.
Kaushik noticed them immediately.
He hurried toward the abandoned car, grabbed the keys from the ignition, and turned toward Robin.
"People are gathering. We need to move."
Robin nodded.
He quickly pulled his motorcycle upright.
Kaushik climbed onto his own bike and started the engine.
The van pulled away first.
Robin followed.
Within seconds, both motorcycles disappeared into the traffic, leaving behind the abandoned car, the fallen bike, and a confused crowd beginning to gather around the scene.
Mrs. Briganza sat rigidly in the van, her breathing shallow.
Only minutes ago, she’d been furious about a ruined promotion.
Now she wasn’t thinking about the promotion at all.
She was wondering whether she and her son would make it home alive.
***
Mrs. Briganza opened her eyes to the sound of her son’s muffled voice.
"Mm—mmph!"
Rocky’s frightened, gagged noises came from somewhere beside her.
She blinked several times, her vision swimming until the surroundings slowly sharpened into focus.
Cold concrete. Bare walls. A single dim bulb hanging overhead.
Her heart lurched.
She tried to move and immediately felt the restraints biting into her wrists. Her ankles were bound as well, leaving her helpless on the floor. She turned her head sharply.
"Rocky!"
The word came out strained and hoarse.
Her son lay beside her, bound in nearly the same way. His school uniform was still on him, now wrinkled and dirty. A gag covered his mouth, and his wide, terrified eyes were locked on hers.
Mrs. Briganza’s face drained of color.
Fragments of memory rushed back.
The school gate. The motorcycle crashing in front of her car. The van. The knives. Then darkness.
They had been taken.
Her once-composed professional suit was now creased and disheveled. She stared around the basement in disbelief.
"Where are we?"
Rocky could only make another muffled sound.
Before she could speak again, a metallic groan echoed overhead.
Both of them looked up.
The basement shutter began to rise slowly.
Footsteps followed.
Two figures appeared in the opening.
Chetan stepped in first. Robin followed close behind.
The moment Mrs. Briganza recognized them, pure terror flashed across her face.
"Please..." she whispered.
Neither man answered.
"Please, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you." Her voice trembled as she struggled against the restraints. "Money? My husband has plenty. Tell me how much you want. Ten lakh? Twenty? More? I can arrange it."
Robin laughed quietly. Chetan simply watched her.
"Please!" she begged again. "You don’t understand. You can demand any amount. My husband will pay the ransom."
Robin slowly shook his head.
"You reap what you sow, Mrs. Briganza."
She stared at him.
"What...?"
"This isn’t about money."
The fragile hope drained from her face.
Beside her, Rocky’s eyes widened in growing panic.
Mrs. Briganza frantically searched her memory.
Who had they offended? Her husband’s business rivals? Someone from the school? The principal? Had one of her husband’s enemies decided to use her as leverage?
She couldn’t think of anyone.
Chetan glanced at Robin.
"So what’s the boss’s plan?"
Robin’s expression shifted slightly. His gaze moved toward Rocky.
The teenager in school uniform immediately noticed. His frightened eyes darted between the two men.
Robin answered casually, "He told us to release the woman."
Mrs. Briganza’s breath caught.
Robin continued, "But we’re supposed to keep the boy."
Rocky’s muffled cry turned frantic.
Mrs. Briganza stared at Robin in horror.
"No."
Robin raised an eyebrow.
"Apparently, she could be useful to us... if she’s willing to cooperate."
"No!" Mrs. Briganza shook her head violently. "Take me instead. Whatever you want from him, I’ll do it. Please—he’s just a boy."
Rocky looked at her, tears gathering in his eyes.
"Take me," she pleaded. "You want someone useful? I’m the one you need. Leave my son alone."
Robin smiled faintly.
For the first time, Mrs. Briganza understood that her pleas were not moving him.
"Please..."
Robin reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded handkerchief.
Mrs. Briganza’s eyes narrowed.
"What are you—?"
He began walking toward Rocky.
"Stay away from him!"
Her voice rose sharply.
Rocky twisted against his restraints, panic overwhelming him.
Robin ignored both of them.
Mrs. Briganza struggled harder.
"Please! I’ll cooperate! I’ll do whatever you want!"
Robin stopped beside Rocky.
Mrs. Briganza’s heart hammered against her ribs.
"No!"
Then, without warning, Robin turned and brought the handkerchief toward her instead.
She jerked her head away, but there was nowhere to escape.
The cloth covered her mouth and nose.
A sharp chemical smell flooded her senses.
She choked and tried to hold her breath, but panic forced her to gasp harder.
"Rocky—!"
Her son’s muffled cry was the last thing she heard.
Her vision blurred. The basement tilted around her.
Then everything went black.