‘Confess to your crimes here, do your jail term and we can try to reduce its quantum for you, provided you cooperate. Then return home to your father and mother, brothers and sisters. Live your life there well, do something worth doing. Or else, you face hell here. You know, jails are not good places.’

As if on cue, Sucha leapt towards Jigar and slapped him hard. Jigar winced.

‘I told you all who I am,’ Jigar blurted out, a scowl on his face.

Sucha left the room when Hoshiyaar looked at him. Sucha returned seconds later, wheeling in an electronic contraption. He twisted Jigar’s left hand. Jigar yelped loudly.

Hoshiyaar waved at Sucha, who stepped back. ‘Talk, Junior. You are too young to survive these electric shocks. You may also turn impotent due to these shocks. Want to become impotent or a vegetable? Sucha hates your silence. Speak up!’

For a full minute, no one spoke in the room. Shekhar was watching Jigar closely.

‘Stop beating me. I am not a Khalistani. I was only with the two men you caught with me. I have no knowledge of bomb blasts planned in Delhi theatres,’ Jigar said.

Shekhar signalled Hoshiyaar to pause.

‘Why did you accompany the Sikh men? Why is a minor running around with terrorists attempting to cross an international border? You have to be a terrorist. Aren’t you?’ Shekhar asked Jigar.

‘Tell your Sucha to fuck off from here with his machine. I will tell you…’ Jigar spoke calmly while looking at the contraption. Sucha left the room after Hoshiyaar nodded at him.

‘Firoze Ashraf. My name is Firoze Ashraf. I am from Sialkot.’

‘Why did you come here? Why did you join them? Did somebody force you? Or did you join them seeking paradise or money?’

‘Money for what? Who can force me?’

‘So, why did you come here?’

‘Babaji … Janaab Al-Cheema … sent me here. I don’t know who those two men are except that they work for the ISI and have some links with Babaji. They were asked to bring me to India for the Delhi job. I am the bomb-maker. These men only know how to plant bombs and fire a Kalashnikov. I can make bombs with delayed timers using Integrated Circuit chips.’

Hoshiyaar asked him, ‘Where are the bomb-making materials, the detonators? Who taught you bomb-making? Where are the chips? How did you enter India? Who helped you from this side of the border?’

‘Some of the bomb-making material is in the cavity beneath the driver’s seat in the truck. The chips were to be bought at the Paris Electronics shop on M.G. Road in Khemkaran. Our Delhi contact was to arrange for a shelter and anything else we required.’