Yea, and if some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep,Even so I will endure...For already have I suffered full much,And much have I toiled in perils of waves and war.Let this be added to the tale of those.
â Homer, The Odyssey
It's interesting, that whenever something bad happens to someone else, people around him or her seem to be more affected with the situation. A health issue, misfortune, a tragedy, or the giant of them all, Death, all these things touch person of interest or not alike, and leave sometime bigger impact than the situation might have intended. The unfortunate events link minds alike, make them retrospect their lives and choices.
But some people don't have the time, or the interest for the retrospection. There is always something else to do, something important, so hours later, she planned to get back at work, as good as new.
But of course, plans are like your temper, every now and then it keeps changing.
She was hoping there is actually a case and not tons of paper work, no team mate showing excessive concern for her or anything remotely closer. Unfortunately, the world and red tape-ism of Indian Offices doesn't get back at feet as fast as hers. Merely hours had passed after the bio-attack at the ETF had occurred, media was still there in front of entrance of office, the workers were still busy whispering and speculating what happened after evacuation, their imagination letting them go overboard. The Director was out of office, keeping in loops with other Intelligence service about the attack and investigating it further, she is probably pissed at the ACP too, as last night the latter snuck out without telling anyone and didn't receive any calls from her. Not that it's anything new.
The summary is, no new case.
She figured it as much the moment she walked out of the lift, the absence of team in the discussion room only putting a stamp on it. Without the team, the room looked hollow, the emptiness glaringly obvious. She could not remember a day when she had seen the room empty, without any team member inside it.
Irritated, she walked through the glass door and slumped on her usual seat, fingers tapping on the edge of table in impatience. Outside the room, everyone was peeking at the officer, the whisper only intensifying, which she noticed from her peripheral vision. Pursuing her lips in disapproval, she started to think what else she can do if she walk out of here now, and with a surprise realized for the first time in her life, she had nothing to do. No informer visit, no secret meeting with higher intelligence officers, no pissing off Director. She was . . . free.
Which was strange. And so very unusual.
The glass door was suddenly opened and she turned her neck, only to see the Second-in-Command Rawte and Senior Officer Rathore entering inside, brows knotted together.
"What are you doing here?" The Officer asked, "Should not you stay at home or something?"
"I am not contaminated." She remarked dryly, head tilting to a side, to which he made a face.
"He didn't mean that." The Second-in-command replied quietly, intensely staring at her. She stared back for some moments.
"No case today?" She asked instead, shifting her eyes on the officer. He dragged a chair nearby before sitting on it.
"I hope you didn't forget about the case last night? You know a virus which came in ETF inside a 'Dear John' letter."
"It was not a 'Dear John' letter." She answered, then frowned, "You guys captured the Professor, right? What else now?"
"It doesn't add up." The Second-in-Command spoke, "There is no reason why he will do something like this."
"Maybe he was working with the bad guys." Rathore added, "A guess, even though it is not going anything. The Director and other Bosses are brainstorming as we speak in the HQ."
She took it in, and silence descended around them, before a shrill of Phone broke it. Rawte took out his cell and pressed the answer button without checking the ID, already walking out of the room.
"How is Shree?" The ACP asked.
"Healthy physically, mentally torn with guilt, which, frankly, is out of my logic." He rolled eyed.
"He is being silly." She agreed, looking at him straight, "But he is alright?"
"Yes." He confirmed, then narrowed his eyes as he asked, "What about you?"
"I am here, aren't I?" She leaned back in her seat, the flippancy back in her, to which he stared for a moment, before shaking head. They were both silent for a while, and she turned her eyes to the giant LCD near them, watching the news.
And cursed in mind.
Aside from the breaking news of ETF, there was a news of 4 civilians killed in a shootout in South Delhi. The address was eerily similar to the one her 'Personal Hacker' gave her and the IB-Liaison officer 2 days ago.
She was out of the room even before her head could process it all, the thumb pressing the speed dial for Agent Rahane. It went unanswered the first 2 times, to which her impatience and anger increased, foot tapping on the floor. Then someone picked up the call.
"Who's this?" The voice was of an older female, who sounded as irritated as she felt.
"Rahane?"
"Who's this?" She repeated.
"I want to speak with Vir Rahane, where is he?" The ACP demanded, jaw clenching.
"I am asking who's this!" It's like her record is stuck at the same place. The ACP exploded on the old lady.
"I am his wife! Now answer me where the hell is he!"
The poor lady apologized and informed the officer has been admitted to a hospital. The ACP took the address, cutting the call without bothering to hear anything else. In the course of shouting she totally missed when Sameer was coming toward her, but stopped and turned immediately after he heard her 'His wife' comment.
Rawte was pacing in room when Sameer returned, "Where is she?" He demanded. The Senior officer looked confused.
"I think she is talking with her husband?" He sounded unsure of himself.
"Her what!?" Arjun rather yelled in surprise, staring at him with wide eyes for a second, before storming out of the room. He looked for her everywhere, before seeing her vanishing behind the lift doors which was fast closing. He ran, and slipped inside, the doors joining behind him once again.
"What's with the running?" She frowned, her voice a strange mixture of exasperation and annoyance.
"Where are you going? And why you even came today? You should have stayed home, you need rest." He went on in one breath.
"Yeah, I was just going to do it, rest and all." Her tone indicated how much of the rest she will take, and he realized for what it is, his expression showing disapproval. He took a step close to her, totally getting into her private zone, but what the hell, she does that all the time.
"Don't ignore your health Riya." He said quietly, concern dripping from it. She could not immediately brush it off.
"I am not." She said after a few moment, "I am alright."
"But you were not." He took another step, which made the space between them mere centimeters now. He looked down for a second, which her eyes followed, and noticed his fingers were hesitating for something, before softly holding her wrist, "Take care of yourself."
She could tell he was now staring at her face, but she could not tear her gaze away from his hold on her wrist, not too tight to suffocate but not loose either. Some other time, she would have pulled back the moment he held on, but now, she didn't. Why, was a question she will ask herself later (never).
"Yeah. Sure." She answered, rather mumbled, pulling her wrist slowly, but suddenly his grip tighten.
"You are running a fever." His fingers now were on the back of her hand, checking the temperature. He gave a stern gaze to her and said, "Home. Rest. Now."
"Yes Boss." She remarked as lightly as possible, and the lift opened almost immediately behind him. She walked out, feet taking her as far away as possible from him, mentally sighing in relief. It's not like she was uncomfortable in the Second-in-command's presence, probably none in the world can make her uncomfortable in her own skin, but she was not overly excited either. Maybe it had to do something with the fact that she hates when people show her concern, and he was doing that too much in there. Yes, that makes sense.
(It doesn't.)
5 hours and a flight later, she was in the hospital room of Agent Rahane, which was, surprisingly, devoid of any IB/RAW colleague of his. He was sleeping peacefully, the room dimmed for his comfort, the nurse walking out as soon as she stepped in, giving them both the unwanted privacy. For a moment, she felt irritated, maybe a part of her had actually hoped he will be awake, given how tenacious and eager he was to come here and check things for himself, but now all turned upside down and they both needed answers. Then the sensible part of her brain kicked in, and she sighed, rubbing her temple. Staring around for a moment, ACP Mukherjee slowly walked toward the furthest sofa in the room and sat on it, exhaling slowly. His injuries doesn't look much, some scratches on face and his hand on sling. The Nurse mentioned something about a car accident, to which she was surprised, then decided it must be another of IB's closing up loopholes. She wondered what else they did in this situation.
In the semi darkness of the room, it suddenly hit how both of them had come close to dying in the last few hours, both for different reasons. She walked out unscathed, he didn't. She always believed in Destiny. There was a deadline hanging on her life since the moment she was born, as with genetic disease like hers, patient do not stay alive for a long time. But she did, and she was sure she must be alive for something, she must have some work to fulfill. If her Destiny brought her at this moment, here, she wondered how her destiny and his are intertwined. When it was intertwined, and why? What's the purpose, what's the endgame?
Feeling tired, she took out her shoes and curled them on the sofa, head falling backwards. Maybe the Boss was right, maybe she was running a fever. The medics did mention something about weakness and temperature after the cure was pushed, even though she was too eager to get out of the office to hear it properly. Her eyes fell shut, the last thought on her mind was this Agent better wake up fast.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
When Agent Rahane woke up, it was 5 in the morning.
He blinked owlishly for several seconds, then remembered about the shooting and groaned, eyes falling shut and soft groan escaping from his throat. What a disaster it has been coming here, he has no idea how much damage had happened. He has to contact HQ, get himself updated. But first, he has to check himself out of here . . .
"Oh, you are awake." One older female nurse entered, pushing her glasses over nose, then glanced to a corner of his room and shook her head, "Poor thing, she fell asleep hoping you will wake up."
"Who?" He turned his neck, and saw one figure curled up on the sofa in the farthest corner of his room, the cover on the window near it has not been removed so it was dark over there.
"Your wife." She answered conversationally, to which he snapped his neck so fast that it might crack, "She flew last night, was very worried about you."
Before he could process it all down, the nurse was hovering over him, letting him sit properly and checking his vitals. He frowned a little as he looked toward the figure once again, and as if it could sense his gaze, the figure stirred, then stretched like a cat, feet falling on the ground.
"Hello Husband."
He can never mistake that dry voice mixed with sarcasm and some inside joke only she could understand. ACP Mukherjee.
"The heck . . . " He muttered to himself as she smirked, the nurse giving them both look and slowly left, closing the door behind her as she finished her job. The ACP got up from the sofa, now pushing the cover of the window aside. He was momentarily blinded by the sudden light around her hair, but adjusted his eyes, thousand questions running in mind.
"How do you know I am here?" He asked. She dragged a stool near his bed as she started answering.
"I called your cell." She answered, then tilted head to a side, "I take it you were not in touch with your department?"
He shook head, "I was out since last night. The last thing I remember is being carried to an ambulance." He frowned, "There had been a shootout. It must have made headlines." He straighten his back, "What they are showing?"
"Trigger happy person shot and injured several people in a locality in South Delhi." She answered, "I figured you guys arriving here and shooting can't be co-incidence. Thought it will be better if can just ask you."
"So you are here just for the case." He gave a small smirk, feeling suddenly somber. She rolled eyes.
"How many days do you have to stay here?" She asked instead.
"Zero, starting for now." He pushed the call button beside his bed.
2 hours later, Agent Rahane along with ACP Mukherjee were out of hospital, the former's arm in a sling. The IB-RAW liaison officer had a one hour call with his seniors, now fully updated and in loop with them. The Intelligence Agency was working overtime to mislead the news, at the same time trying to investigate the culprit behind this act. The Officer was summoned back, which he fully intended to respond, but first he along with the ACP were heading toward the shooting site.
The location of burner phone turned out to be a congested and overpopulated locality in South Delhi, the exact location was a narrow lane which literally smelt like shit and allowed no signal in cell. They searched the area, the slums owned by manual labors from different states, some old two-three storied buildings which were illegally occupied by tenants from years. One floor of such a three-storied was empty, which they went to check, when all hell broke loose. First they thought it was one person, but soon bullets were getting inside from all direction, making holes in wall and shattering glass, when the IB team realized it was an ambush. They had walked right into a trap, and no matter what amount of preparation they did, it was no match. They could hardly see their enemy, and before they knew they were outnumbered, 3 out of 9 people were dead. They tried their best to fight back, but it was over in less than one hour, 7 from their team dead, 3 terrorist dead. The team has no idea how many more were there.
Rahane and Mukherjee stood in front of the yellow CRIME SCENE DO NO ENTER ribbons, which marked the start of the scene, when the former finished his tell, the veg roll in their hands which they had grabbed earlier forgotten.
"The news saying they were civilians." The ACP said quietly, to which the liaison officer snorted without any humor.
"They were one of us. No civilians were hurt. The terrorists' obviously wanted us, not any other collateral damage." His face slowly twisted in disgust, "Yesterday they were one of us, today, they are none. One mission stripped them off their identity." He exhaled slowly, half hoping a quip from the ACP beside him, who was occasionally vocal about his intelligence agency and its' method. But she was silent, maybe feeling merciful for him. It's not like he didn't know the drill, live for the country, die for the country, loyal to the country- but witnessing it has never been easy.
He took a deep breath, calming himself down, and then walked ahead, the ACP following as they both dipped under the ribbon, entering the crime scene. They had to stop for identification several time, and then they were inside the room, where it all started and ended before any of them could grasp what was happening.
It was a simple long hall room, painted in light green. There were big bullet holes everywhere, one side of wall almost falling due to severe holes in it. Blood on the floor was almost dried up, but the amount of it was sickening. The opposite building, where the gunmen took shelter and fired, was damaged too, but not quite as much as this floor.
The duo came out almost after one hour, both of their mind in different shapes. When the ACP started talking, the agent nearly jumped, clearly startled.
"Why it happened, you think?" She asked, looking at the ground but not quite looking, "What was the motive?"
"It was obviously a warning, to show us what they are capable of." The Agent fixed his jaw. She shook her head even before he finished.
"What are they hoping here?" She now met his gaze, "First they left the burner phone and lured you out, then attacked you. You were not even hoping for anything, still they made their first move. Why?"
"There are many things that doesn't add up." He said slowly, "First of all, how they know we are here? It was almost like they were waiting for us to walk right into it. Second, we didn't even find the phone, where is it? I don't think the gunmen had the time to stop and gather a burner phone which they used to lure us. Most importantly, we chased Nasir and reached here. He was not a big fish, still we had to face this. Were we wrong to assess him? Was he much more powerful than we had assumed?" He was now asking questions to himself.
"You didn't reach here by chasing him." The ACP reminded, "You chased that middleman guy. Anything on him?"
He exhaled, "NSA is on him. They are yet to track him in this country." He then frowned, "Why he showed himself? A Man like him won't leave trails behind him so that we can find him. Why he let himself out for us to find him? What is going on here?"
Nobody had the answer for these.
The duo returned to city that night, parting ways at the airport after another brief discussion in the parking lot.
"I will keep you updated." He vowed as his taxi arrived, putting his luggage inside.
"You better." She semi-warned, to which he chuckled, bidding her bye. He watched her figure vanishing into the rear view mirror, and sighed to himself. Watching her in his hospital room has been shocking, to say at least. Was she there just for the case? He wondered if she had anticipated these turn of events when she had first left the IB breadcrumbs to reach her during the surveillance of Nasir. Was these turn of events baffling her as badly as him? Or the reaction was much more intense?
He don't think he can get these answers anytime soon.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
What was you up to, Nasir?
Riya was asking herself the same question from past 3 days, since her return from Delhi with the IB-RAW liaison officer, Rahane. There was no new news on the shooting, even though now NSA was involved into this. They wanted to tag this as a terrorist activity from the neighbor country, but the timing and planning was too perfect, so that idea was scrapped. The NSA was still trying to track that middleman, and as he was not spotted in country they assumed he is not here. The Intelligence agency got the burner phone, which was the root, in a dumping ground some 2 KM away from shooting site. There were mostly incoming call, and large part of numbers were untraceable. The IB had made sketch of 4 remaining shooters and spread them across the country, they are yet to hear anything regarding that.
It was a temporary dead end.
AS if IB was not already busy with its' . . . whatever task it does every day, and the additional liaison case with RAW, they were also handed over the bio-attack case on ETF, which was decided jointly by Home ministry, DIG Raghu sir and several other senior IPS officers. Director Kapoor was not happy, but they could not investigate it and it was a decision, and she is nothing if not strict abider of protocol. ACP Mukherjee nearly dropped her pen when the liaison officer, along with several other IB officers, entered in ETF to collect those files, an ironical smirk coming on her lips which almost everyone missed (but not everyone).
"You didn't mention anything about attack in your office." In a rare moment when the duo were close, the liaison officer asked the ACP in irritation, with a touch of concern.
"Time to brush up on current affairs." She threw back dryly, looking away.
Sameer called on it after the IB peeps were out, "What was that between you and Agent . . . ?" He could not remember the name.
"Rahane." Chotu supplied, to which he nodded, then looked back at her.
"Just trying to be social."
Shree snorted beside them, not even bothering to hide that smirk. She gave a mock glare at that, but didn't indulge more.
But none of the good mood was there in the late night when the discussion room was suddenly filled with a stunned looking Director, furious liaison officer, curious Sameer Rathore and Arjun Rawte, and an irritated ACP Mukherjee, staring at the red eyed crime journo who was glaring at the liaison officer.
"Will somebody tell me what's going on?" Aisha finally snapped, no idea what the hell is going in her officer anymore. Everyone stopped with the staring session, jumping slightly at the loud voice.
"Yea, explain Agent Rahane." Sakshi's voice dripped with anger, to which everyone looked at the agent in question. He huffed, not before his eyes going slightly at the ACP who looked irritated at this whole ordeal.
"Miss Anand here, is holding classified information and trying to leak them anonymously on the internet. I am here to grab those sensitive data."
"What sensitive data?" Rawte asked the same question which run through everyone's mind, the ACP's expression turned curious and slightly surprised.
"My one journalist friend recently came across some information regarding Delhi shoot out case." The ACP stiffened at it, which Aisha noticed, filing it in the back of her mind for the moment and focusing on Sakshi, "She tried to publish them, but some IB officers barged into her home and office and took it all. She gave a copy to me, so that I can publish them."
"There are more copies?" Rahane was appalled.
"What is the information?" Sameer asked.
"That's classified." Rahane raised voice even before the crime journo could open her mouth, "I am asking you to hand over the data, Miss Anand."
"Why should not we publish them? It's our right to bring out the truth." She demanded.
"Because you can't." He pressed, now looking at the Director, "She is your team mate, order her."
The Director looked torn between her curiosity and the duty, but like always the duty won, "Hand over whatever you got Sakshi, he is not going anywhere."
"But . . . " She tried to protest, but was cut by Rawte.
"What is so important in the data that you are ready to imprison yourself?"
She stopped at that, the desperation now turning into coolness, "Why don't you ask that to Riya, Arjun?"
Everyone's eyes were now on the ACP now, who stared back at the crime journo calmly.
"Elaborate." Sameer looked back and forth between the two.
"That's enough." Rahane took a step to the crime journo, but the Second-in-command out himself between the two, earning an impressed and thankful look from the latter. Pleased that the situation was suddenly on her side, she started to tell her story.
"I saw the pictures, you and him in Delhi airport." She said, then looked at the liaison officer, "Interesting, is not it? How do you know him anyway?"
"We are childhood sweethearts." The ACP deadpanned, to which everyone simultaneously rolled their eyes and sighed in exasperation. The Crime journo blinked, clearly not expecting this lie even when the former was in danger of exposing herself.
"Maybe I need to call some help from my department, because clearly, ETF is more interested in drama than following protocol." Rahane was now taking out his cell, but Aisha signaled him to stop, fixing a stare at the crime journo, who looked ready to protest, then slumped in defeat, handing over a pen drive to him.
"It's the last copy." She mumbled.
"If any sensitive data goes out, Miss Anand, then you can kiss your life goodbye and expect 10 years of imprisonment." He warned, taking the pen drive and putting it safely in his pocket. Giving a last look and almost invisible nod to the ACP, he left.
Sakshi slumped on the nearest chair, all energy for rebellion draining, "My friend nearly risked her life and job for this, now it's all gone."
"Don't tell us anything." Aisha rubbed her temple, feeling an oncoming headache. The Crime journo's head shot up at the comment, the glare on the ACP back.
"Why don't you ask her? I am sure she will tell."
"Okay that's enough.'' The ACP straighten her back and fisted hands on both side, ready to end this once and for all, "I don't know what you saw in pictures, so you better watch your words before accusing me of anything."
"I saw you two's pictures in Delhi airport." The crime journo stood up. Near them both the trio scoot closer, ready to intervene before this gets any more heated.
"So? It's a crime for both of us to be in the same place or me and him to stand near each other?"
"In same place? At same time? Away from city? You are not supposed to know him."
"I don't." The ACP looked straight in her eyes, "I didn't before this morning."
"So what were you doing in Delhi?" The Crime journo demanded, to which the ACP glared back, before answering quietly.
"Professor Rao."
Sameer hissed in sympathy, "DU professor, expert in Bio-science?" The team did background search on all people in country who were expert in the field of bio-science during the last case, when the name popped up along with many other.
She nodded, "I was having fever. I thought maybe the virus . . . " She stopped, but what she intended happened. Everyone stared at her with concern.
"But it didn't, right?" The Second-in-command asked in quiet voice, to which she shook head, looking away.
Everyone sighed softly at it, and the crime journo said after a long time in a shaky voice, "That's hell of a co-incidence."
"I think it's enough for one night." Aisha said almost immediately, more like replying to her even though her eyes roamed on everyone, "Go home guys, tomorrow is a new day." Then fixed her eyes on the ACP, "I still didn't get your official statement on the last case."
"I will finish it tonight." She replied in a hurry, before walking out, like she could not bother to stand in the room. The men looked concerned at it, slightly annoyed that the crime journo pushed her to this extent. The journo picked her bag and followed suit, as Rawte walked out in a hurry.
Sameer stood closer to the Director, who was looking outside through the glass door, like she didn't even feel his presence. He frowned at it.
"Are you thinking about the sensitive data on the pen drive?"
"No." She shook head, now looking at him, "Did you ever read anything on Human behavior in your Psychology books? About humans and lying?"
He shrugged and frowned at the same time, "Sure."
"But those rules doesn't apply on exceptions, right?"
"Pathological liars." He confirmed.
"Yeah." She nodded slowly, "Pathological liars."
He understood about whom they were talking, but not the reason. He was ready to voice it out when she started speaking again.
"She will never show herself vulnerable. Even when the situation demand it."
"But she did now." He added, now getting the picture. She exhaled at that.
"She could always look right into your eyes and lie."
He squeezed her hands, feeling for her plight, at the same time curious about the 'why'.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Your journalist friend know that those dead people in South Delhi shoot out were IB officers." Vir was venting frustration in phone with ACP Mukherjee, who was running down the stairs, cell pressed in ear.
"She is no friend." She nearly gritted her teeth at the word, "How?"
"Obviously some footage hungry officer tipped them. Maybe police, maybe ours, who knows?" He paused, "Why she is in ETF anyway?"
"I ask myself the same question every day." She murmured at that, then frowned, "How much does she know?"
"Not about the middleman or Nasir, we are safe." He replied, "How you handled it over there?"
"I handled it." She stressed.
"She looked pretty determined for answers."
"Are not you smitten?" She asked sarcastically, to which he was about to say something when she cut the call, sensing a presence behind her.
"You are running quite awful lot after me, Boss." She stopped walking and turned, facing the Second-in-command in the semi darkness of the basement parking lot.
"You are moving too fast." He took a step toward her, standing too close for a decent space, "You were worried about the virus, that flippancy was all show-off."
She shrugged, "Can't take lightly these bio-weapons."
"You didn't mention about Delhi." He tilted his head to a side, slightly annoyed at her. She gave a look, the infuriating smirk forming at the corner of her lips.
"We are now sharing cooking recipe too?"
He tried to huff in frustration, but it came out as a disbelieving laugh, "You don't cook."
"I don't look like cooking type?" Her words were so similar to the same conversation they had months ago, when they were standing in two separate points, literally, so far from each other even though physically they were near.
"You don't look any type." This time, he didn't say those words in mind, but aloud. She looked away at that, a small smile tugging at her lips, both moving toward their cars.
"But We are okay, right?" He asked hesitantly after some moments when they had to part ways toward their cars. Some other time, she would have picked up on 'We' or throw some dry comment to his question, but this time, she merely nodded her head, before turning around and leaving.
Like that day in lift, she refused to think much about that.