We're approaching a station.
Come, let's eat.
We'll get tea at the station.
Are you alright, sister?
Have some water, ma'am.
Lord Ram, that day is near, we'll hear your name in every cheer!
As per the charge-sheet, the owner of the flat lives in Saudi.
This property dealer leased out the flat to the four.
Not a chance, sir.
It's a sealed property now.
The CBI notice is pasted on the door.
And we also keep an eye out.
Hey, kid!
Get tea for the gentlemen.
I hope you're not holding onto any duplicate keys to the flat.
If you are, hand them over to us.
No, not at all.
I've given both the keys to your officers.
I'm a professional, sir.
I got the agreement papers signed right in front of me.
All their paperwork was in place.
How could I've known?
But the moment I saw their photos on TV, I called the CBI.
When were the agreement papers signed?
Twelfth of the last month.
They were seated right here, sir.
They looked so innocent...
Can't believe what they were up to.
Can't believe anyone these days, can you?
You bet.
Just the times we live in.
-Yeah? -Sir...
whatever they're saying on TV about Cheeni,
it's all bullshit.
She's no Nepali agent.
Who are you?
Meet me at the Nizamuddin station in an hour.
There's a CCTV camera in the office.
If that agreement was signed in that room on the twelfth,
that must have been recorded.
You had come to the station to see him, right?
Is he a friend?
Or family?
I know her since we were kids.
We met right here.
Here?
Train number 14056.
Brahmaputra Mail.
What's your name?
Here.
Take it.
When his parents died, his uncle put him on a train.
Asked him to wait while he got him an ice-cream.
The train left the station. But the bastard never showed up.
Another one bites the dust.
Fucker has hidden it so well. Definitely it's not his wife's.
What are you staring at?
I don't pick pockets. I make connections.
Get that, Cheeni?
Cheeni?
Of course!
I'm from Dhaka, so that's what they call me.
He's from China, so we call him Cheeni.
Thank God he's not from London.
Now hear me, Cheeni.
Stay with us, keep inhaling these fumes of bliss, and you'll survive.
A human kid is a tough nut, just like a cockroach.
You wish him to die, but the fucker finds a way to survive.
-All hail... -The Chinese Goddess!
Let's go, Cheeni.
Where to?
Shaakal has summoned him.
He's just a kid, Dhaka. He won't survive Shaakal. Help him out, please.
If we could take it, so can he.
Get out of my way.
Run, Cheeni! Run!
I said, run!
Hey, move! Let me go!
Move!
Shaakal couldn't get over Cheeni.
And it was not just him. Shaakal threw him to his gang as well.
That's how Cheeni spent his childhood.
And then one day, the Bihari gang chopped Shaakal to pieces.
That's how Cheeni got his freedom.
Cheeni and I started living on the streets.
But we were free.
Cheeni wanted to make something of her life.
She went to a night school.
Then she got a job in a mall.
After that, she did a course at a beauty parlor and became a masseuse.
That's where she met Mukesh Talreja.
What kind of jobs did Talreja give her?
She had to accompany his men for delivering and picking bags.
And what was in those bags?
Black money.
She used to travel - Meerut, Lucknow, Agra.
How about Chitrakoot?
Yes, many times.
Used to get me holy offerings from there. That stupid woman.
I warned her many times.
But she had a target in mind. Five hundred thousand.
God knows what the bitch wanted to do with all that money.
Any idea where she was on the twelfth of last month?
Do something, sir.
We're just lowly station rats.
Nepal, Pakistan... we've nothing to do with all this, sir.
Please save her, sir.
Move it! Raju is really pissed off.
Only you guys knew about my pistol.
Tell me, who took it?
Say it, asshole.
Was it you?
Tell me!
-Bloody... -Raju!
Boss, you need not have bothered.
I'm sure, we'll find it.
These kids must've misplaced it.
What the fuck did you think? That it's a fucking toy?
Why did you take it from me?
Tell me.
Speak up!
I wanted to threaten someone who wasn't paying up.
So, did Raju impress you guys with his loaded gun?
Stick it in your mouth?
Or your behind?
I give you two days.
If I don't get the pistol in two days,
I'll make mincemeat of your balls.
And these cute little friends of yours will have it for breakfast.
And what happened to you, son?
You better watch out.
Take care of your buddy!
Dad... the pistol.
Dad, please give it to me.
I'll quietly put it back where I found it.
It'll all be over.
I need a name.
I want to know who's letting you near a gun.
You're suspended, right?
What do you need the gun for?
I don't trust you.
You love your son too much.
Well, one of us has to.
Are you alright?
Dolly?
I'm tired, Dolly.
Baby, I'm tired. Please.
Dolly, stop.
Dolly, I am tired.
Baby, I am tired.
No, not today.
Dolly!
Dolly, I said I'm...
What's gotten into you?
I will...
turn forty next month, Sanjeev.
It'll be too late then.
Maybe it already is.
Too late.
I want a baby.
What?
I want a baby.
Where did this come from?
I made a mistake.
I should've been a mother by now.
Should've been a mother.
Dolly, please go to sleep.
Go to sleep, Dolly.
-We'll talk in the morning, okay? -Please, Sanjeev.
-We'll talk in the morning.
Let's make a baby.
Please, Sanjeev.
It's her.
Isn't it?
I can't remember her name.
Easy, easy.
Quiet.
Lock it.
There it is.
Over there.
Bhopal to Delhi.
Bashir never came to the office on the twelfth.
No wonder.
He was enjoying boat rides in Bhopal with his family.
Their train tickets for thirteenth morning.
Bhopal to Delhi.
So, that means Kabir was never here?
The question is not that. The question is...
why would someone carry a false circumcision certificate in his pocket?
I'll tell you why.
Because the man does not want the world to know he is a Muslim terrorist.
Who are you to decide whether he was a terrorist or not?
I mean, who are you?
This matter is in the court. Let the court decide.
And till then we feed him biryani, like we fed Kasab.
I think we're digressing a bit here.
The question that we're today seeking an answer to is simple.
Is there a larger conspiracy here to shake the foundations of the Indian Republic?
In other words, was I, Sanjeev Mehra, the only target,
or is there a longer list of potential targets that the enemy had in mind?
And if yes,
what is it that the government is doing to protect its prominent citizens?
We'll get back to it after this very short break.
Hey, Sara.
This is Rohan Thakur. He's interning with us for a bit.
I want him to spend a week tagging you.
Be nice, okay?
-All the best. -Thank you.
Hi.
Let me guess.
Daddy's a big shot in the media.
And you're here for some neutral CV points
before you join Daddy's company as...
Head of New Media or something.
How did you know?
Delhi, you're so fucking predictable!
I'll send the file.
Hey, Ansari! What are you doing here?
Jai Hind, sir.
You're on a study leave.
Go, study.
Make us all proud!
Beniwal sir has a court hearing.
So, he wanted the details of the Brij Vihar case.
When is your interview?
In a week.
See you, sir.
Brother!
Someone from Delhi is here.
They are asking about some Kabir.
He got into the habit of stealing during his school days.
And then moved on to the bigger stuff like bikes and cars.
And once you have a criminal record,
you're never too far away from the next prison term.
I haven't even seen him in the last six or seven years.
During this time, did you hear anything about him?
Like, where was he, whom did he work for?
Any...
links with any Jihadi groups?
He was trying to hide something.
He was carrying a certificate,
which said he was operated upon, and not circumcised.
I got that certificate made for him.
But why?
So that he wouldn't have to face the same fate as his elder brother.
This is not beef, it's chicken.
It's chicken, not beef. Please, believe me.
What an irony, sir.
The son I was afraid to raise as a Muslim...
you turned him into a 'jihadi'.
Don't you worry.
Your new haircut will suit you.
You Pakistani fucker!
How's your injury?
Show me.
Come on.
Ouch, that must hurt.
Sorry.
Come, let's go for a ride.
Bro...
Mom has asked me to stay at home.
Come, we'll be back in ten.
Come.
What's there to think? Come, sit.
Hop on.
You never told me how you got injured.
I did tell you, bro.
I got into a fight with some boys.
Oh, is it?
Bunty's mom had another story.
Where's my pistol?
What pistol?
I don't have it!
Where's my pistol?
I don't have it!
Motherfucker!
Where the fuck is the pistol, you cunt?
-Tell me where it is. -I don't know.
-I don't have it. -Scoundrel!
I won't spare you!
Just give it back, kid.
It'll be easy for everyone.
And what other businesses does Gwala Gujjar have, apart from real estate?
Forget it, ma'am!
-That's enough for today, ma'am. -Amitosh!
At least give me something on his political connections.
Let's just say he started building his business empire in the 90's,
with road construction contracts.
Rest you can figure out yourself.
New Media!
Let's go do some journalism!
Where the hell were you?
Why didn't you take my calls?
You've lost your job. Why can't you be at home?
Go see what they did to your son.
-What happened? -Someone hit him.
For that gun of yours.
Siddharth!
Who did this?
Tell me!
I wouldn't do a thing.
Just give me his name.
Tell me, who did this?
Speak up!
Raju.
Motherfucker!
What are you doing?
Come on, get up!
Where are you taking him?
He's running a fever.
What are you doing?
Are you out of your mind?
Leave him.
-Put your shoes on. -Enough of your bullshit!
So, you want your pistol?
No, I don't want it.
-Pistol, is it? -No, no.
-That's not even my pistol. -Then whose is it?
-It's Anil's. -Who's Anil?
Alright, take me to him.
-Ansari, get us a taxi. -Sir, please spare me.
This one.
Hey, bro! Cover here.
Who is it? What the fuck is going on?
Here's your pistol.
This chapter is closed.
Now, if any of you motherfuckers get anywhere near my son,
I'll carve you a new hole.
Thinks he can fuck with my son.
-Let's go. -You two bit cop.
I'll have you suspended.
Well guess what, somebody beat you to it.
Fuck off, motherfucker.
Get going.
We are suckers, man.
We let these fuckers get away with all their bullshit.
Motherfucking cunts.
''Will get you suspended, will fuck you over...''
As if I give a flying fuck.
And what are you listening to? Cover your ears!
We're letting them make a fool of us.
Foreign agents and terrorists it seems!
It's not an investigation. It's a fucking circus.
Fucking assholes.
One mistake was all we made. Fuckers took over the case.
And now they are just jerking off all over the case.
Staying back for dinner?
Move it.
What?
Sir, one photo. Please!
According to the jail officials, the attacker was mentally unstable.
But I think it was a paid job.
Talk to the CBI then.
Or your boss, that Sanjeev Mehra,
who is spewing utter hogwash on TV.
Why tell me?
Because your diary told me you don't agree with the CBI
or Sanjeev's terrorism theory.
The focus of your investigation was not Kabir or that girl.
It was Vishal Tyagi.
I researched a bit on the political connections in the case.
In Kalyani Jiji's government in UP,
there's a powerful minister called Balkishan Bajpayee.
Tyagi's boss in Chitrakoot,
Gwala Gujjar, has been working for Bajpayee for years.
When Bajpayee was the PWD minister,
he granted many road contracts to Gwala Gujjar.
But these guys...
What's their connection with Sanjeev Mehra?
Why do they want him dead?
I don't know.
My wild guess is...
Bajpayee's party has been trying to create a national presence for years.
Elections are around the corner.
They want something against the ruling party.
Maybe Sanjeev is right about this bit,
that his killing was part of a larger plan.
Maybe they've other targets as well.
That's Rajbir Gujjar!
Sorry, who?
Rajbir Gujjar.
Tyagi's sports teacher.
But he never told me he was a cop.
Or part of Bajpayee's security.