Adultery Who Watches The Watchmen (continued)

[samgreenvalley]

The day before Holika Dahan, Prakash landed at Indira Gandhi International Airport.
 
He had arranged everything—the ship's schedule, Ayan's care, the flight, the hotel. One of his junior officers had a sister in Delhi, a collegeteacher with a young son of her own. She had agreed to watch Ayan for a few days. "Family emergency," Prakash had told her, and she hadn't asked questions.
 
His hotel was a nondescript business property in East Delhi, twenty minutes from Mayur Vihar. The room was small but clean, with a view of a construction site and a water tank. It would do.
 
He set down his bag and pulled out his phone. A message from Karthik: "Meeting tomorrow night. 10 PM. Generator shed behind the community hall. Come alone. Come discreet. I'll send the address."
 
Prakash typed back: "I'll be there."
 
Then he called the tech contact Pinto— a friend of Francis, who had helped him install cameras in Mumbai. Pinto  was based in Delhi, running a small surveillance business from a shop in Lajpat Nagar.
 
"I need your help," Prakash said. "Francis would’ve explained. Timeline is tight. And location is sensitive."
 
Pinto didn't ask questions. "I'll be there in two hours."
 
---
 
They met at a tea stall near Mayur Vihar, far enough from the colony to avoid recognition. Pinto had brought his equipment in a nondescript backpack—cameras, wires, a portable monitor.
 
"Generator shed," Prakash said, showing him a rough map he'd sketched from memory. "Ten by twelve, concrete floor, one door, no windows. Generator in the corner. I need coverage from at least three angles."
 
Pinto studied the map. "The door?"
 
"Covered. I want to see who comes and goes."
 
"The generator?"
 
"Covered. That's the focal point."
 
Pinto nodded. "Sound?"
 
"Essential. I need to hear everything."
 
"Night vision?"
 
"The shed has no windows. It'll be dark."
 
"LEDs," Pinto said. "They've installed dimmable strips. That'll be your light source. I'll position the cameras to capture the best angles."
 
Prakash handed him an envelope of cash. "Tomorrow. Before noon. I'll get you inside."
 
"Saab," Pinto said, pocketing the envelope, "you have a very interesting marriage."
 
Prakash smiled. "You have no idea."