When those cars — racing as if to a rescue or to save a life — arrived at the state police headquarters, there was almost confusion in one part of the building, and that confusion was clearly connected to those vehicles.
Nearly all the staff of the department stood clustered in the investigation room, deeply worried and fearful about what was happening. About seven technicians sat focused, working the computers with skill and intense concentration. You could hear nothing but the tapping of keyboards and the occasional sighs.
“Sir, this man is extremely clever. I don’t think we can stop him with these bribes this time either.”
One of the computer operators said this while wiping the sweat that kept trickling onto his forehead, even though they were at work in the room. He rubbed his head in deep confusion as he spoke, then glared and looked up at him. With a shout he slammed the desk in front of him and stared angrily at them.
“If you let him achieve his aim this time, I will not forgive you. How long will we be able to stop this rogue, this terrorist boy who thinks he is more powerful than the law?!!”
As he spoke and hit the desk in anger, his voice echoed and they all sat straighter. He quickly returned his attention to the computer in front of him and resumed working swiftly. The man beside him was so shaken by the outburst that he also intensified his efforts on his machine.
Their boss continued with the news that further unsettled the rest, so much so that they lost their composure while handling the equipment. Everything in the room stopped; that silence spread through the room at once. They all stared at the computers in bewilderment, because they knew the job was finished — just as he had often beaten them, today he had done so again...
★
At the Bank (and Chapter Two)
Meanwhile, the speeding vehicles on the road had arrived at the bank, where they found people and all the bank staff alarmed. The bank manager in particular was more disturbed than anyone. The money the man had withdrawn had been taken from the governor’s wife’s account. Even though they had halted him earlier, he had taken billions — money he feared revealing to the public because he wanted to avoid any consequence if it were returned.
Within a short time the white-uniformed officials and the police finished sweeping around the bank because they strongly suspected the suspect or one of his accomplices might still be inside the bank. They sealed off every exit; no one inside was allowed to leave until they were searched, including their phones and bags.
The investigation continued with careful scrutiny; after searching people and returning to the bank employees, there was no sign of the perpetrator. By then the governor’s eldest son had arrived along with his mother, the governor’s wife, and her security detail. She angrily expressed how upset she was about the poor security that the country’s banks suffer. Where you think you can safely put your money and sleep comfortably at home becomes prey for cunning, well-informed thieves who believe they will not be held accountable — either the money will be returned to her account or she will take extreme action against the bank and its staff. This remark alarmed every employee at that branch.
The situation became more tense when the C.P. himself arrived, together with the deputy governor and other high-ranking government officials, because of the magnitude of the theft — something unrivaled in its scale. There was hardly any security agency in the country that did not know his name for his lawlessness.
Frustration and sorrow at the situation made a policeman chase away the hawkers sitting on the side of the bank, ordering them out angrily because their idle sitting and watching the commotion annoyed him. He drove them off and ordered that if they return they should be given the treatment fit for troublesome old women who cry.
They began gathering their belongings and leaving quickly. A lame old man in his worn wheelchair struggled as he left; the chair made a terrible noise because of how old it was. He joined the third lane near the bank and reached a spot where a blind escort followed behind him, singing a little and tapping with a stick, saying, “Boss, we’ve reached the point.”
With a shout he slammed on the brakes of his wheelchair, looked back at the blind man who had opened his eyes wide now, lifted himself and scanned the lane: no one was there except a pile of children playing. He stood up on the wheelchair and, with a large cane in his hand, tore at the tattered hem of his robe that had come loose with age. He threw the small carpet and the cap that had been placed on it onto the wheelchair.
It was a great surprise to everyone seeing a healthy man standing confidently on his feet; looking at his body you would say he was a young man in the prime of life, but astonishingly his face was old, even covered with numerous patches of white hair from his head down to his beard. I was filled with deep wonder — I had never seen such a thing: a young man with an old man’s face.
Typing📲
🔮TAKUN SAAƘA!!🔮
My eyes focused sharply to finish watching him, but the arrival of five powerful motorcycles in the lane split my attention in two. The blind man had also removed his old clothes and come out healthy. With respect, one of those on the motorcycles brought his own forward, helped him down, took off the support for his back, and placed on him beautiful sandals and other protective gear for riding.
Quickly another helped him onto his own motorcycle and set up a seat for him as if placing a king on a throne. In a display of grand bearing and pride he sat like someone who had taken his palace seat, looking around us with arrogance.
The man holding the sandal squatted in front of him and began removing the worn rubber sandals on his feet — the kind worn by herders that had all split from hard use. He put on the new sandals, and the man accepted his cap and other garments and put them on his head. He rose with the skill of a ruler and mounted the motorcycle.
The blind man and the one who had brought the motorcycle also mounted the others with their comrades. Because his bike was at the front he adjusted it once more. In a show of arrogance he raised his hand and extended one finger (one), then another (two), and then the last (three), and they released a loud shout that shook most of the people in the lane. Women began running into rooms for safety; the brave ones peered to see what was happening.
Because their line was close to the bank, their signal had reached the ears of the security officials surrounding it. The security forces then hurriedly fired at the motorcycles as they raced out of the line, just as the arrival of security vehicles closing the line approached. When the security forces reached them they pressed something on their bikes and smoke quickly filled the entire road; they discharged their motorcycles like lightning.
God willed that they were on a narrow road; certainly nothing could prevent a massive accident because the whole street was shrouded in smoke — the approaching one could not see the one going. Despite the smoke, one of the security vehicles managed to pursue them and give chase. For nearly three full minutes the smoke lasted before it cleared; by then the motorcycles had disappeared from the area as if by magic.
Lives were in danger; the security officers were dismayed and threw up their hands in frustration and sorrow. The brave searched for small papers scattered on the ground — the mark of the power-bikers — which they had dropped along with the smoke. The thing on the paper increased their horror, because as he often did, he had left his name. His name was on the paper beside a drawing of his old-faced visage.
One of the officers exclaimed, “Hey! This fellow is one of the regulars who beg at the bank entrance.”
“What!!?” the C.P. shouted in astonishment.
The manager, who also held one of the papers, said in a shaky voice, “Indeed — this regular was here two weeks ago; I first saw him then. But this one is really troublesome.”
Anger and hatred for their situation kept everyone silent. Just then the governor’s wife and her son arrived too, tired of waiting inside the bank. Hearing that they had not been able to apprehend the suspect, her son began to rage as if he would swallow his tongue. The deputy governor confirmed that they had been on the scene for twenty-four hours without catching a trace. From then on everyone left the place disgusted and dejected. The security personnel returned to their posts to plan the next steps.
★
The white-uniformed officers, who had planned to leave, returned after their senior received a call from their headquarters notifying him of the situation. He ordered them to go back to try to find where this major thief had come from after he left the bank.
They entered the lane where they found women and children gathered, staring at seats and items the lame and the blind had removed. They too looked in amazement at the belongings and asked many questions; everyone nearby spoke openly about what they had seen.
Description
At the Police Headquarters
When those cars — racing as if to a rescue or to save a life — arrived at the state police headquarters, there was almost confusion in one part of the building, and that confusion was clearly connected to those vehicles.
Nearly all the staff of the department stood clustered in the investigation room, deeply worried and fearful about what was happening. About seven technicians sat focused, working the computers with skill and intense concentration. You could hear nothing but the tapping of keyboards and the occasional sighs.
“Sir, this man is extremely clever. I don’t think we can stop him with these bribes this time either.”
One of the computer operators said this while wiping the sweat that kept trickling onto his forehead, even though they were at work in the room. He rubbed his head in deep confusion as he spoke, then glared and looked up at him. With a shout he slammed the desk in front of him and stared angrily at them.
“If you let him achieve his aim this time, I will not forgive you. How long will we be able to stop this rogue, this terrorist boy who thinks he is more powerful than the law?!!”
As he spoke and hit the desk in anger, his voice echoed and they all sat straighter. He quickly returned his attention to the computer in front of him and resumed working swiftly. The man beside him was so shaken by the outburst that he also intensified his efforts on his machine.
Their boss continued with the news that further unsettled the rest, so much so that they lost their composure while handling the equipment. Everything in the room stopped; that silence spread through the room at once. They all stared at the computers in bewilderment, because they knew the job was finished — just as he had often beaten them, today he had done so again...
★
At the Bank (and Chapter Two)
Meanwhile, the speeding vehicles on the road had arrived at the bank, where they found people and all the bank staff alarmed. The bank manager in particular was more disturbed than anyone. The money the man had withdrawn had been taken from the governor’s wife’s account. Even though they had halted him earlier, he had taken billions — money he feared revealing to the public because he wanted to avoid any consequence if it were returned.
Within a short time the white-uniformed officials and the police finished sweeping around the bank because they strongly suspected the suspect or one of his accomplices might still be inside the bank. They sealed off every exit; no one inside was allowed to leave until they were searched, including their phones and bags.
The investigation continued with careful scrutiny; after searching people and returning to the bank employees, there was no sign of the perpetrator. By then the governor’s eldest son had arrived along with his mother, the governor’s wife, and her security detail. She angrily expressed how upset she was about the poor security that the country’s banks suffer. Where you think you can safely put your money and sleep comfortably at home becomes prey for cunning, well-informed thieves who believe they will not be held accountable — either the money will be returned to her account or she will take extreme action against the bank and its staff. This remark alarmed every employee at that branch.
The situation became more tense when the C.P. himself arrived, together with the deputy governor and other high-ranking government officials, because of the magnitude of the theft — something unrivaled in its scale. There was hardly any security agency in the country that did not know his name for his lawlessness.
Frustration and sorrow at the situation made a policeman chase away the hawkers sitting on the side of the bank, ordering them out angrily because their idle sitting and watching the commotion annoyed him. He drove them off and ordered that if they return they should be given the treatment fit for troublesome old women who cry.
They began gathering their belongings and leaving quickly. A lame old man in his worn wheelchair struggled as he left; the chair made a terrible noise because of how old it was. He joined the third lane near the bank and reached a spot where a blind escort followed behind him, singing a little and tapping with a stick, saying, “Boss, we’ve reached the point.”
With a shout he slammed on the brakes of his wheelchair, looked back at the blind man who had opened his eyes wide now, lifted himself and scanned the lane: no one was there except a pile of children playing. He stood up on the wheelchair and, with a large cane in his hand, tore at the tattered hem of his robe that had come loose with age. He threw the small carpet and the cap that had been placed on it onto the wheelchair.
It was a great surprise to everyone seeing a healthy man standing confidently on his feet; looking at his body you would say he was a young man in the prime of life, but astonishingly his face was old, even covered with numerous patches of white hair from his head down to his beard. I was filled with deep wonder — I had never seen such a thing: a young man with an old man’s face.
Typing📲
🔮TAKUN SAAƘA!!🔮
My eyes focused sharply to finish watching him, but the arrival of five powerful motorcycles in the lane split my attention in two. The blind man had also removed his old clothes and come out healthy. With respect, one of those on the motorcycles brought his own forward, helped him down, took off the support for his back, and placed on him beautiful sandals and other protective gear for riding.
Quickly another helped him onto his own motorcycle and set up a seat for him as if placing a king on a throne. In a display of grand bearing and pride he sat like someone who had taken his palace seat, looking around us with arrogance.
The man holding the sandal squatted in front of him and began removing the worn rubber sandals on his feet — the kind worn by herders that had all split from hard use. He put on the new sandals, and the man accepted his cap and other garments and put them on his head. He rose with the skill of a ruler and mounted the motorcycle.
The blind man and the one who had brought the motorcycle also mounted the others with their comrades. Because his bike was at the front he adjusted it once more. In a show of arrogance he raised his hand and extended one finger (one), then another (two), and then the last (three), and they released a loud shout that shook most of the people in the lane. Women began running into rooms for safety; the brave ones peered to see what was happening.
Because their line was close to the bank, their signal had reached the ears of the security officials surrounding it. The security forces then hurriedly fired at the motorcycles as they raced out of the line, just as the arrival of security vehicles closing the line approached. When the security forces reached them they pressed something on their bikes and smoke quickly filled the entire road; they discharged their motorcycles like lightning.
God willed that they were on a narrow road; certainly nothing could prevent a massive accident because the whole street was shrouded in smoke — the approaching one could not see the one going. Despite the smoke, one of the security vehicles managed to pursue them and give chase. For nearly three full minutes the smoke lasted before it cleared; by then the motorcycles had disappeared from the area as if by magic.
Lives were in danger; the security officers were dismayed and threw up their hands in frustration and sorrow. The brave searched for small papers scattered on the ground — the mark of the power-bikers — which they had dropped along with the smoke. The thing on the paper increased their horror, because as he often did, he had left his name. His name was on the paper beside a drawing of his old-faced visage.
One of the officers exclaimed, “Hey! This fellow is one of the regulars who beg at the bank entrance.”
“What!!?” the C.P. shouted in astonishment.
The manager, who also held one of the papers, said in a shaky voice, “Indeed — this regular was here two weeks ago; I first saw him then. But this one is really troublesome.”
Anger and hatred for their situation kept everyone silent. Just then the governor’s wife and her son arrived too, tired of waiting inside the bank. Hearing that they had not been able to apprehend the suspect, her son began to rage as if he would swallow his tongue. The deputy governor confirmed that they had been on the scene for twenty-four hours without catching a trace. From then on everyone left the place disgusted and dejected. The security personnel returned to their posts to plan the next steps.
★
The white-uniformed officers, who had planned to leave, returned after their senior received a call from their headquarters notifying him of the situation. He ordered them to go back to try to find where this major thief had come from after he left the bank.
They entered the lane where they found women and children gathered, staring at seats and items the lame and the blind had removed. They too looked in amazement at the belongings and asked many questions; everyone nearby spoke openly about what they had seen.