Chapter 24: The Last Supper
January 2012.
The alarm whistle blew at 5:00 AM, echoing through the concrete blocks of Cherlapally Central Jail.
For two thousand inmates, it was a wake-up call to another day of hell. For Arjun, it was just background noise.
He was already awake. He lay on his mat in Cell 4, Barrack 6. It wasn't really a cell anymore; it was a private room. The floor was swept clean twice a day by a junior inmate. The rough wool blanket had been replaced by a soft cotton quilt smuggled in via the laundry truck.
Arjun sat up and stretched. His shoulders popped. At twenty-two, his frame had filled out completely. The lanky teenager was gone. He was broad, his muscles dense and defined from years of calisthenics and Shiva's brutal training sessions.
A polite knock on the bars.
"Bhai? Tea."
It was a constable. Not a prisoner. A police constable was bringing him morning tea.
Arjun stood up, walked to the bars, and took the steel glass. It was hot, sweet, and made with full-cream milk—not the watery slop served in the mess hall.
"Thanks, Patil," Arjun said, taking a sip.
"The Superintendent sends his regards, Bhai. He asks if you need the barber today for the... big day tomorrow."
"Send him at 10," Arjun said. "And tell him to bring a new blade."
The morning walk in the yard was usually a chaotic mix of exercise, fights, and gambling. But today, the atmosphere was different. It was somber.
As Arjun walked the perimeter track, Shiva a step behind him, inmates stopped what they were doing. They nodded. Some touched their foreheads in a salaam.
Arjun didn't acknowledge everyone. He just kept walking, his stride long and relaxed.
"They look like they're attending a funeral," Shiva grunted.
"They are mourning their bank," Arjun smiled faintly. "They are worried Salim won't give them the same interest rates."
A young boy, barely eighteen—the same age Arjun was when he entered the adult jail—ran up to them. He was trembling.
"Arjun Bhai..."
Shiva stepped forward to block him, but Arjun raised a hand.
"What is it?"
"I... I'm getting released next month, Bhai," the boy stammered. "I wanted to ask... can I work for you? Outside?"
Arjun looked at the kid. He saw the desperation. He saw the weakness.
"What can you do?" Arjun asked.
"I can fight. I can steal."
Arjun shook his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He handed it to the boy.
"I don't need thieves. I need professionals. Go back to school. Learn to use a computer. If you come to me with a skill, I'll hire you. If you come to me with a knife, I'll have Shiva break your hand."
He walked past the stunned boy.
"Cruel," Shiva muttered.
"Honest," Arjun corrected. "I'm building a company, not a daycare."
Noon. The Bakery.
The heat was still there, but it felt different now. It smelled of profit.
The production line was humming smoothly. The bread was golden brown. The workers were moving with military precision.
Arjun sat in the glass-partitioned office for the last time. Nanda was packing the ledgers into a cardboard box.
"We have cleared the local accounts," Nanda said, looking around the small room that had been his sanctuary. "Salim has the new books. The transition is seamless."
"And the guards?"
"All paid off. A 'Farewell Bonus' has been deposited into their family accounts. They will miss you, Bhai. You were the best paymaster they ever had."
Salim, the new manager Arjun had groomed, walked in. He was a tough man, serving ten years for armed robbery, but he looked nervous about filling Arjun's shoes.
"Bhai," Salim said. "The truck is loaded."
Arjun stood up. He walked out to the loading bay. He picked up a loaf of bread, broke it open, and checked the texture. Perfect.
He looked at Salim.
"The quality stays high, Salim. If the bread goes bad, the money stops. If the money stops, my temper starts."
"I won't let you down, Bhai."
Arjun nodded. He sat on a stack of flour sacks, looking at the ovens.
"It's funny," Arjun said to Shiva. "I spent four years trying to get out of here. But I'm going to miss this bakery. It's the only honest work I've ever done."
"Honest?" Shiva raised an eyebrow. "We smuggled two crores of illegal cash through these vans."
"Details," Arjun smirked. "The bread was honest."
Evening. The Superintendent's Office.
Superintendent Reddy was sitting behind his desk, looking at Arjun. Usually, a prisoner standing in this office would be trembling. Arjun was sitting in the guest chair, drinking the Superintendent's expensive scotch.
"It's been a... unique experience, Arjun," Reddy said, swirling his glass.
"Mutually beneficial, Reddy," Arjun replied.
"You know," Reddy leaned forward. "When you came here from the Juvenile home, I thought you'd be dead in a week. You were a pretty boy. Rich family. Soft."
Arjun swirled his drink. "Fire hardens clay, Reddy. You provided the kiln."
"What happens now?" Reddy asked. "Satya is still out there. He's been quiet, but he hasn't forgotten the trucks we hijacked."
"Satya is a problem for tomorrow," Arjun stood up, placing the empty glass on the desk. "Tonight, I sleep."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black notebook. He tossed it onto Reddy's desk.
"What is this?" Reddy asked.
"Insurance," Arjun said. "It's a list of every bribe you took, every favor you did for politicians, and every illegal transfer you authorized in the last ten years."
Reddy's face went pale. "Arjun... I thought we were partners."
"We are," Arjun smiled, putting his hands in his pockets. "That book stays with you. As long as you keep the bakery running for me, and as long as my men inside are treated like kings... that book stays closed. But if you try to act smart once I'm gone..."
Arjun didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to.
"Understood," Reddy whispered.
"Goodnight, Superintendent."
Night. Barrack 6.
The lights were out. The barrack was silent.
Arjun, Shiva, and Nanda sat in a small circle near the back wall. It was their last council.
Shiva was sharpening a small piece of metal, just out of habit. Nanda was cleaning his glasses.
"Tomorrow," Nanda whispered. "Freedom."
"It's not freedom, Nanda," Arjun said, staring at the moonlight filtering through the high window. "It's just a bigger cage. The predators are just bigger."
"We are ready," Shiva said. "We own the guards. We have the money. We have the map Maya gave us."
Arjun leaned his head back against the cold stone wall.
He thought about the boy who had entered the system at fourteen. That boy was dead. He thought about his parents. Their faces were fading from his memory, replaced by the logos of corporations and the faces of enemies.
He felt a strange calmness.
"Go to sleep," Arjun said softly. "Tomorrow, we have to buy a city."
He closed his eyes.
Around him, the prison slept. But the prison knew. The tiger was leaving the zoo. And the jungle was waiting.