Page 61 of A Shimla Affair
I saw one of the guards crawl on top of the podium, and I pushed the Viceroy behind me. The guard’s arms snaked towards me as I attempted to position my arm and aim my gun at him. But, to my horror, he had already grabbed my legs. With a sudden snap, I was slammed onto the floor. A sharp pain threatened to split my head apart. I was so tempted to give in to the drowsiness that was now engulfing me, but the ensuing chaos and my sister’s faces in my mind’s eye helped me swim above the pain.
I kicked the guard with as much force as I could muster, hearing him howl.
He still didn’t leave my leg though, and I couldn’t reach my gun, which had fallen a little away from me. Now the man was starting to climb up on the podium, gaining ground, inching towards my gun. I kicked my way through, trying to prevent him from moving forward. I could see the other guard still crouching on the ground, held in place by the gun Ratan Babu kept pointed at the Viceroy. If the guard attacking me got my gun, the other one would take out his own revolver.
The guard’s fingers were cold and hard against my legs, his arm extended towards my face, curled into a fist. I tried to pull back my head, but he was getting close, much too close.
With a thud, Noor slammed the butt of her gun against his head, and he fell unconscious at my feet. Upon seeing this, the other guard surrendered as well. Afreen took the chance to fire once again, bringing the chaos in the room to a standstill.
I got up and the four of us stood together, pushing the tied-up body of the Viceroy to the front. There was a collective gasp, and it was only after Ratan Babu yelled silence and fired a single shot in the air again that we could be sure that their fear had given way to attention. An eerie tranquility descended upon the ballroom, so that even the crack in Noor’s voice could be heard when she spoke.
‘The hotel is under siege. It means that the Viceroy is our hostage. Now, I have one question to ask you all: do you want to live?’
Following a meaningful silence, somebody yelled an affirmation, breaking out in a sob, and the others followed. The ballroom, which had just been the sight of glitz and glamour, already looked like it had gone through a bloodbath, with the shattered chandelier strewn across the floor alongside abandoned shoes, scarves and scraps of clothing. The women in the crowd could be heard crying quietly, while the men seemed torn between terror and disbelief at the sight of us wielding guns.
Noor nodded satisfactorily. I admired the act she put on, as if the very ground beneath us didn’t tremble. The Viceroy lay on the floor beside me, whimpering.
‘You all will live and, in fact, live to grow very old. But only if you do exactly as I order. We will open the doors to the ballroom, and let you all out of the hotel, to freedom. But you must promise to cooperate. In exchange for your freedom, I want you all to help me.
‘You see, we have no intention of harming any innocents. We are not terrorists. But there are some among you who are guiltyof great crimes against India and its people. And today, we set out to rectify that. So, if you all, as a group, help us punish these men responsible for corrupting the name of an entire land, I promise you on my father’s grave that you will go free without harming a hair on your head. If you don’t help us however …’
Her voice trailed off as Afreen tapped her machine gun on the floor, and Ratan Babu walked forward menacingly. I waited nervously as we now moved on to the next and most important step of the plan.
‘I will call out names, and these men should come up to the stage and willingly submit themselves to be our prisoners,’ Noor continued. ‘If they do that, we will let all the others free.’
Somebody screamed, and another round of hysteria followed. My hands trembled and I hid them behind my back, looking to Noor for confidence. There was only one thing I was afraid of: that they would collectively band together and attempt to overpower us. Ratan Babu was convinced that the crowd would rather want to save themselves as a whole, easily giving up those few men. The moment of truth was here. Ratan Babu yelled and fired again.
‘I will begin. Lord Fraser, would you care to join us please?’
There was a scuffle. Fraser attempted to run to the door, but three others grabbed him before he could even make it halfway. Ratan Babu had been right, I noted with relief, as he walked up to them, wielding his gun. Menacingly, he pointed his gun squarely at his forehead, and Fraser put his hands up. I kept a watchful eye on the others with us.
‘You must answer for your crimes, Lord Fraser,’ Noor said. ‘Don’t you all agree?’
Fraser continued to struggle and plead as Ratan Babu brought him over to the podium. Afreen and I tied Fraser up, moving him next to the Viceroy.
‘I will go on,’ Noor said. ‘Lord Beeson, please, do not deny us your company.’
If nothing else went in our favour, the look on Beeson’s face would be enough to make this whole endeavour worth it. Our estimations had been right, and he seemed so shocked by the change in the plan that his knees buckled—he would have collapsed if the man to his right didn’t move to hold him up. Slowly, Beeson climbed the platform on which we stood, and I relished the pleasure of tying him up.
‘Sir James Harris, Deputy Commissioner John Brown, and finally, Sir Philip Ramsden.’
One by one, they fell like dominoes. It was just as Ratan Babu had predicted: they turned on each other the moment they realized it would set them free. The men we called struggled, but they soon fell flat under the weight of our guns and the others’ sorry but forceful requests to cooperate. A wave of repulsion passed through me when I watched the desperate, terrified faces trample and topple over each other, dancing to our words, simply because we held guns in our hands.
Give a man a gun long enough and he starts to believe it’s a limb. He starts to believe in his divine right to it, he dares to think he’s above everyone, godlike. Was I too like them, then? I swallowed my repulsion.
I caught the eye of Eliza May in the crowd, who was staring at me in fascination and horror, and I tried to look at myself from her eyes. Was I still human to her? The servants remained crouched in a corner, just as Khushilalji had instructed them to.
‘Now, run to your Commander and tell him: the Viceroy’s life hangs on a precipice, and so does Britain’s reputation. If Ripon wants these men to live, then he must come and negotiate, and tell us what their life is worth. And make sure to tell the guards outside—one step inside the hotel grounds and these men right here are dead.’
I left the ballroom through the passage, unbolting the door from outside. They fled like sheep, tripping over each other, stumbling and crawling out of the foyer, led by Ratan. Afreen, remembering that Lady Sinclair and the maid were still locked in our bedroom, left to get them. The hotel must be free of any other guests, the message that our siege was against the actors of the British empire, and not Britain’s people, must be clear.
The crowd ran through the gardens, towards freedom. The remnants of the Summer Jubilee Ball lay at our feet, next to the most important men of the British empire in India. Finally, we heard the front doors close.
22
‘The hotel is not the fortress that you think it is. At some point, the Commander-in-Chief will get desperate, and he will try to get in. He will sacrifice the men that need to be sacrificed. You have to be willing to take drastic action, Bibi. You need explosives at every vulnerable point. You must let yourself destroy and kill, not just the other, but also yourself. You can’t give up your ace of cards right at the beginning. No, the pawns must be at the start, and they must die for the king if the chance comes. And, when they die, so will a part of you, remember that.’
Time was running out. Lord Ripon could be at our door at any moment now, his soldiers behind him. Afreen and I, along with Khushilalji and the servants, began barring the hotel. The front entrance would be well guarded. But we taped up small TNT packages, a special gift from Begum Jaan: if the doors were forced open, that would set off the bombs. Finally, what remained was the servant’s entrance, through which they would leave before we blocked that passage too. Gently, but hurriedly,we ushered them out one by one, wishing them well, promising to bring the British down.
