It's hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your head.
-Sally Kempton
IB is bad news.
Its one thing Agent Rahane had heard over the course of his career, in the whispers of outsiders, in the outright admission of his own colleagues and seniors. For outsiders, they evoke fear and dangerous situation. To his own department, they are bearer of bad news, called only when internal situation of country is out of control. Only second best to RAW, and that organization is another level altogether. Merciless and dark.
Until a few months ago, he would like to think his days and work in Agency was relatively simple. He had those usual liaison meetings with RAW, discussions with PR and media personnel about potential harmful news running all over print media and news channels, and of course, NSA levels where they were updated about regular infiltration from borders and their own success and failures overseas. It was all about meetings, keeping tabs on assets and suspects in office through his IT team and chosen group of junior field agents, and more meetings. Like many things, it changed when Haqqani came to picture, trying to portray himself as God and dictate their lives on their own soil, thinking he could get away from it. Capturing him, and the stonewalls they hit afterwards due to the alleged breach of contract by Central, then his interrogation threw him off his usual routines.
Deep down he knew it started way before Haqqani's God complex, but that's a thing for another day and too big to dive in in this current state of scenario.
Haqqani's confession threw them off the track. The man knew too much, but not enough for their liking. His confession only established firmly what they had suspected so long - Intelligence Service from across the border was dangerous for the diplomatic relation for both country, as well as for their own safety. Skeptics who always protested the baby steps to fix the relation between two countries and failed cheered at the discovery and pushed for stronger retaliation, people who were minority not too long ago now actually threatened to overpower both IB and RAW. It was a new thing, to hear how weak they were appearing to the globe and what extreme measures they should take to ensure the world that they are next super power, to take revenge from 'Enemy', to punish 'them', every time, and not for one or two minutes in a day as a part of heated argument about India's foreign policies. The changing atmosphere made Rahane squirm, while he supported the thirst for vengeance, having sworn on it over an ex-Agent's grave, he was not too keen on the idea of all -out war. He liked politics and quiet meetings better where they can have victory without the bloodbath.
Staring at the scattered papers all over his desk, he put his palms on the edge of it and leaned, closing his eyes as he wondered maybe he should also sign up on the blood bath list.
Because this was huge. So much more than any of them could ever imagine, sophisticated and different than they have ever encountered and expected from their neighbour. And yet, for all the things they knew, big pieces of the puzzle were still missing, thus not letting them understand what is the final product is.
This latest chunk of discovery started as innocent. After hanging up on the eccentric ACP last night, his mind started to wonder why on Earth her personal hacker guy would ever try to get into RAW database. He remembered that dark, cold basement, boxes and computers parts filling up every corner, the comics' posters on wall and empty canes of coke on floor. He remembered the man child with over grown beard and round foggy glasses, talking about government conspiracies and how his life was in danger, his paranoia about security and suspicion of Rahane being an Agent. He only visited him once, he didn't even know his name which was a grave mistake on his part, but nevertheless, he had to agree with what Riya said, the hacker guy was not someone who was interested in dangerous criminals who didn't make their names to official guilty list of state police. He liked better to get into banned websites, read hungrily assassination theories, not criminal profiles.
It makes no sense.
So he pushed his IT department, telling them in loud voice that he does not care if they were not successful in getting the IP address of the hacker, he needs everything they could get their hands on. After finishing the command, he had gone out of his cabin, mingling with colleagues and tried not to get a headache with another discussion of foreign policy and revenge talks, which seemed like an default topic of discussion from a few weeks. He excused himself from seniors, eavesdropping on a conversation of junior field agents about the Delhi serial killer case. Apparently that killer was in Mumbai now.
The juniors were exchanging theories among themselves, oblivious to a senior Agent standing less than 3 feet away. Rahane wondered maybe that's how it looks like in ETF, and maybe they would handle it if this killer is really in town. He was confident they will succeed, with a leader like Director Kapoor and her doggedness.
"How is it even possible that police could not identify one victim out of so many?" One female agent was asking. Rahane pursued his lips before taking a sip. It's not unlikely, not to judge the work of police but digital identification had not reached every nook and corner of country. He remembered how he literally hit a wall when he tried to gather leverage over Riya and stumbled across Neel Sahaay, having no idea who was he back then.
"It's police." One male agent snickered, amending himself as the former gave him a look, "If they are not criminal, police will have hard time to identify. Do you have any idea how many people gets missing every day? Many people don't even own Adhaar or voter ID. It's not impossible."
"Maybe they are not from country." A third voice, male, spoke nonchalantly. Rahane narrowed his eyes, now on full attention, and the voice hurriedly explained feeling the stares from his companions, "What? It may be true. It might not have even crossed the police's mind to cross check Interpol or something."
"Well Genius, they looked very much Indian." The first male voice mocked.
"The world have people except blacks and Americans." The former argued, "They might not be Indian, maybe South Asian? NRIs? Who even knows? Just a theory." He shrugged.
For some unknown reason, the conversation was stuck in Rahane's head. Maybe because it was a nice distraction from upper level politics, something normal. Variety is spice of life after all.
He found himself settling on his chair inside his cabin and pulling up articles about the case on his laptop. The death toll was 31, barring the latest killing in Mumbai. The pattern was similar, face ruined by acid and dumping a body in gutter, injury on the back of head with a heavy object which resulted in victim's death within seconds. The bodies had no way of identification, no scars or tattoos, no papers or luggage with them, no witness who can tell who are they or where they came from. A literal dead end in every killing. Rahane could only imagine the frustration Delhi Police might have felt, he could feel headache coming up just by looking at news articles. Usually media gets something on high profile cases and run it, showing how incapable Police is. In this case, even their hands were tied.
The rookie agent's words came back to him and he wondered maybe they were not really Indians. His eyes went over the same lines on article over and over again, a voice on his head nagged he was missing the obvious thing here.
Then he did something he had never done in his life - Going with gut feeling. It was a stupid thing, there is no gut feeling. It's evidences and facts, no sixth sense or taking chance. Taking chances lead him nearly getting killed and 9 other agents being dead in the heart of capital. He never believed in gut feeling, never will. And yet, he was accessing RAW database after opening a new tab in his web browser, at the same time calling IT department so that they send someone up here with the necessary information he needs.
During the remote access, which of the profiles the hacker visited?
He found 5 names in the database. At first nothing made sense, they were from different countries, different jobs, the only exception somehow they were linked with big bad people. But they were small fishes, nothing major. The only reason their profile was on RAW database is because if they ever go after these big fishes, these people will the first step toward the direction.
He then noticed the most important thing of these 5 - they are gone.
2 of them are dead, 1 has no trace as if he vanished, 1 has joined Taliban according to last entry and 1 is trying fresh start in life. It took him several phone calls and countless hours of wait to finally get the result which his mind already conjured up - they have simply vanished. Even the two dead guys are not really dead, their pictures could be found in CCTV footage of another country not less than a week after their 'Death'. The people he talked, they didn't think much of it. It's not unheard of that criminals faked their death to get Spies off their back.
The IT department might be getting sick of him when he stepped on their floor in the afternoon next day but he was too busy getting offended of their frustrated looks. Pointing at the 5 criminals, he ordered them to track them in India through CCTV, credit cards, anyway they can. He didn't leave after ordering, pacing up and down as he dug a hole behind the computer experts, glowering at the searches which went too slow for his liking.
Later in the night he finally got something. One of the 5 guy was tracked in an ATM machine in - Rahane held his breath at the location - Delhi.
It can't be a bloody co-incidence that he vanished around the time Delhi serial killer surfaced and could not be tracked till now. Despite the assurances from the operators that they will find him if he ever step out his hiding place, he was sure. Delhi serial killer had killed this person.
It can't be coincidence. Delhi serial killer's surfacing . . . shit, the timing should have triggered something in him if he was not so busy over Haqqani, right after his capture, death toll reaching to 31 and no identification could be possible, someone accessing RAW database because it was the best shot to connect a theory to case, these 5 person randomly vanishing from their places and one of them captured in a ATM in Delhi. It's all connected. It's too much of something to be just random incidents.
It also means there was someone out there who knew exactly where to look, and what was going on. At least the person had doubts and decided to look out.
That gut feeling he hated so much told Rahane it had to be Neel Sahaay. There are no other possibilities. It's one absolute in countless guesses.
So that's why this killer is in Mumbai now. Neel Sahaay is here, trying his best to get away because dangerous people are after him. And if Neel Sahaay knew the true intention of serial killer, if he knew enough to look into RAW, then he knew these 5 person. The only way he could know these 5 and possibly, rest of victims, is through the 'Mission' as Haqqani mentioned it. This will be the only reason why IB and RAW both could not get their hands on one person from the list of names Haqqani gave them from this mission. It was not because they covered their tracks or escaped somewhere, it's because they were dead.
It didn't take another gut feeling for him to reach the ultimate conclusion, it was inevitable. Intelligence Service killed all these people and now after Sahaay.
He had to give it to them, such a clean cut yet misleading manner of wiping out their existence, evoking fear into public as a serial killer who randomly choose victim. They will never know this is no serial killer, but eliminating lose ends after Haqqani handed himself to India on a silver platter. He won't be able to say what was this Mission, but these people can. They were associated with it, and small pieces of information from them could have cleared all the confusion for them. But they were deprived of it and they had no idea the opportunities slipping by their fingers.
Rahane didn't know if there are more people associated with this Mission, or this 'Killer' had finished them all off. But he knew one thing, Neel Sahaay is the last option for them, someone they just can't lose. He prayed to whoever it was over them, to make sure he makes it through. He survived 4 years, just a few days until their plan works and they get him.
He picked up the landline and pressed the button so that it can get directly to his Deputy. This needs more people.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
This was a rare sight to see. In reality, most of ETFian can bet on the number of times they had seen ACP Riya Mukherjee running behind their Director - None. But today was a unique day, when they witnessed the ACP following their Boss like a lost puppy, ticking off another thing on their list of 'Things to see before I die'.
"Why should we?" Aisha was saying as she ticked off something in a file she picked up from a employee's desk to the ACP, who tapped her foot on floor in impatience, "The case barely reached to us a few days ago. It takes time to make improvement in difficult cases like this."
The ACP nodded vehemently, "I know, but doesn't this case fall out of our jurisdiction or something?" At Aisha's arched eyebrow she huffed, "You will know better what we are supposed to do handle and what not."
"Yes that's why we are working on it. At least we are working and you are just standing here." She shut the file and dropped it on employee's desk, giving a nod to him, "Eating my brain."
"They are a gang who smuggle kids." She protested, "We handle more domestic cases."
Aisha turned fully on her heels to face the other woman, crossing arms as she asked, "Oh?"
"What about ATS? Or Special Squad? Or any other law enforcement?"
"Delhi Killer had rattled us all." Aisha replied, "It's an order from Home Ministry, no transfer of cases until they are sure of this killer's presence in city. We also have order to clear our schedule immediately if things go wrong."
The ACP pinched her eyes shut and looked away just as Aisha narrowed her eyes, as if looking at her for the first time.
"Since when you come to me with a request to transfer a case?" She asked curiously, then straighten her back and pierced her with a stern expression, "Spill, whatever it is."
Riya chose to keep quiet and brood. After witnessing it for a few seconds and realizing she is not getting any answers, Aisha gritted her teeth and forced a lighter tone.
"I tell you what, convince your team and I will transfer it."
The ACP glared, "You know very well that it's impossible."
"They like you." She shrugged. Something flashed on Riya's face as she bit on her lower lip.
"Not everyone."
"Oh, new best friend not giving attention?" Aisha mocked. At the eye roll of the ACP she became serious, "Fine, brood and don't tell. We both know sooner or later it going to blow up on your face."
"It's not me I am worrying about." The former replied darkly, pinning her with a troubled look. Before the Director could say anything back the ACP walked away.
Storming inside the empty discussion room, Riya took a couple of deep breath, trying to keep control of her growing agitation as she clenched her fist. Images after images flashed in her head and she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, determined to stop them but to no avail. Time like this, she wished she was like normal people, able to feel pain so that she can distract herself.
Bracing herself against the table with both hands, she leaned forward, shutting her eyes, her jaw working in a rhythm. The images didn't stop - A man's constant pleading behind the bars, his urgent voice begging anyone and everyone to listen to him, the same man lying in his own pool of blood as several people in police uniform looked down flabbergasted, small card board boxes coated with blood, writing on wall with blood, mocking them all, the thick scent of copper making them nauseous, the severed heads of girls barely reached their teens, eyes open and hollow.
At the last imagery, the ACP let out a strangled sound from the depth of her throat, slammed the table with both hands and threw everything that was on table with a sweep of hand. Ten of fingers pulled on her hair tightly, the heart hammered and teeth clenched so hard that they might crack, all of them begging her overactive mind to stop it. Especially the last image.
There was a reason Sleep stopped coming to her.
She didn't know how much time passed, but eventually her heartbeat slowed and mind cleared enough to realize the mess on floor won't get cleared on its own. Exhaling slowly, she crouched down and started picking up documents, her hair falling over her face and obscuring her from the world. Or maybe from herself, she could not tell.
There was a footstep near the door and she looked up. Chotu was standing there, looking unsure and hesitant.
"Need help?" He settled on asking. She shook her head, declining the offer, casting down her eyes. The Commando of the team didn't leave though, watching her every movement with hawk like eyes.
Unknown of these two Arjun was watching them. He had witnessed her lashing out minutes before and saw how she eventually pulled herself back together, clearing the mess on floor which, symbolically, represented her own life at the moment. He didn't know if it was due to her personal life, or the current case. It's not like he can go ahead and ask, that ship had sailed long ago.
Still doesn't make it easy.
Still doesn't make him not to care.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
2 days later, Delhi NCR
The Man who had proposed the 'Mission' in India sat with 3 other people around a round table, opposite of them sat Deputy Chief of IB, Rahane and 2 other person. One of them reports to NSA. The discussion which looked more like an argument broke out after a few sentence exchange, several people from both side talking at once as Rahane kept quiet.
"Gentleman, let's not be uncivil." The person who reports directly to NSA, the senior authority among them all spoke in a higher tone. Everyone immediately quieten. "Please, one by one."
"Frankly, Mr. Ahuja, this meeting is a waste of time." The same person from across the border spoke with bitterness, "We are doing this for months and no settlement point can be reached. Islamabad co-operated with you when you wanted us to, but you stabbed us on back. There is nothing to salvage now."
"At the mention of stabbing in back . . . " Deputy Chief of IB muttered, giving a meaningful glance at Rahane whose lip curled up in small smirk.
"Dubey." Cautioned Ahuja just as the former gave a hard glare.
"It's either Kashmir or same old repeat record of backstabbing from you people."
"Let's not get into Kashmir, Brigadier Sheikh, or the closet of skeletons will open and it won't be pretty." IB DC Dubey replied.
"Gentlemen." Ahuja raised his voice once again, giving a stern gaze to Dubey. He huffed and look away, just as the Brigadier physically shook off his frustration.
"New Delhi and Islamabad had a deal, Mr. Ahuja. Azeem Haqqani was a sore point for us and many other country along with both of us was terrorized by him. We all jointly reached a point in negotiation where we gave you go ahead to eliminate him. We held our end of bargain, but you failed to. The word was to finish him, not arrest him after making a show to the world." He finished, reaching for his glass of water and took a few sips.
"Like I said it before, and will say probably for the hundred times," Dubey started, "Nowhere in the negotiation deal did New Delhi ever said they will kill him. And frankly, I don't see the fuss. What are you afraid of, that he will spill something you don't like?" He provoked.
Brigadier slammed the glass on table, "It's about keeping your words! You expect us to be civil and co-operate when you won't do the same. You expect us to crawl on our feet and plead mercy and nod our heads to everything you say like damn dolls. It was the same from past 60 years! And when the diplomatic relation worsen you blame us to the entire world and portray yourself as victims! The reason Islamabad is fussing like you say is because we know how you work, Mr. Deputy Chief. You will cook up some cock and bull story and that PM of yours will sign anything you present him to."
"I will remind you of protocols, Brigadier." Ahuja cautioned once again, "And it's Mr. Prime Minister for you. None of us will tolerate any disrespect toward our Prime Minister on our country soil."
"We are not you, Brigadier Shiekh, constantly in a state of power struggle with Prime Minister to overtake the country." Dubey said sternly, leaning forward on table, "Unlike you, we don't cook up false story. We don't need victimization to get sympathy, we can take care of ourselves."
"Yes, I forgot to add." Brigadier gave a bitter smile, "Threats."
"Do you even see the duality in your words?" Dubey laughed, "You say we portray ourselves as victim, then you accuse us of giving threats."
"Because you are bunch of two faced ser . . . " The former had to stop when Ahuja cleared his throat. Giving the two looks, he started to gather various documents back into his file.
"Why don't we take a break for 20 minutes?" He nodded at Brigadier, "My assistants will show you the way, Brigadier. We will meet in here. Let's cool down, everyone."
Once outside Ahuja made Rahane and Dubey follow him to an empty room, and Rahane heard the Man's angry voice just as he was closing the door of the sound proof room.
"What the hell are you doing?" Exclaimed the Older man, rubbing his temple, "I had heard things in IB were getting rough, but never realized inviting you will be equivalent to declare all -out war on Islamabad."
"Nothing I said was wrong and we all know it." Dubey replied.
"Yes, but its' called Diplomatic meetings for a reason. We don't call out on bullshit stories, we don't poke sore spots. We just try to get ahead while assuming shitty things didn't happen in past." He answered, taking a sip from the glass of water kept on desk. Finishing the glass at once, he glanced at Rahane, "You, Son, why don't you control your Old man?"
Rahane shrugged, "I am minority there, Sir. Extremists are overtaking the Agency."
"Huh." Came the grunted reply.
"Well, it was about damn time." Dubey said vehemently, "We all know why they are making it about Haqqani. It's a good option to hide behind and not discuss actual problems. And they are talking about back stabbing? What about the peace treaty and everyday infiltration in Border? If you even mention Kashmir, it's all about PoK and not the actual point."
"Okay, let's not start now." Ahuja sighed, realizing there is no getting away from it, "I am under pressure here, alright? Islamabad is stonewalling NSA meetings and being hard-ass about Haqqani. It's been months, and while we earlier went on for years, the PM is not keen to start from scratch."
"There is only one way to solve it." Rahane said, drawing the other two's attention, "But even if Ministry is willing, Agency won't budge."
"Of course we won't." Dubey protested, "We are not handing over the Son of a Bitch without getting the root of this Mission."
"Didn't he confess everything he know?" Ahuja asked Rahane, who nodded, "Then what's the issue?"
"We don't know full picture yet." Dubey said.
"Haqqani is not giving anything else, is he? Then I don't see any point to keep him here and sour the already fragile relation between the two countries." Ahuja replied, moving over as the secure landline in the room rang. Picking it up, he listened to the other side, and whatever it is can't be good because his face become stony. Putting it down, he moved to leave the room, already near the door when he excused himself from meeting.
"I need to leave." He rushed.
"The meeting?" Rahane inquired.
"Screw the meeting, Kid. This is serious." With that, he slammed the door.
The meeting never started 20 minutes later, as Brigadier Shiekh and his group had checked out of the venue during the break time. Dubey rolled his eyes, muttering about throwing tantrums like kids as Rahane sighed beside him, heading toward their respective Cars. It was a waste of time, like he had wondered. While he understood RAW's desire to keep their latest discovery about Intelligence Service and Delhi serial killer under covers, to proceed in that track only after getting Neel Sahaay so that Islamabad don't get away this time, he could not but be irritated. He wanted to rub some parts of the discovery on the self- righteous face of Brigadier Sheikh and watch the satisfaction of him getting tongue tied. His Services was the mastermind behind this Mission, after all.
It was only the next day and an emergency meeting later did he realize Hell had actually fallen over them. For the life of him he could not remember seeing Ahuja seeing this rattled and angry. As soon as the meeting started, he threw some documents and photographs on the round table, fuming as he took his seat.
One of RAW senior Director picked up a photo, frowning at the odd diagram, "What is this?"
"It's a proposed water dam in Gujrat." His tone was grave.
"There was no whispers about it." Dubey said. Ahuja raised his face to look at him.
"That's because PMO had not cleared it yet. This was proposed only 7 days ago. The PM was keen though."
"So how come we have these documents?" One female Director spoke up, keeping a document down, "It looks cent percent accurate. Where did we get them?"
"It was handed over to General Mirza of Lahore 2 days ago." Ahuja replied. A collective murmur of shock rang in the room.
"There is a mole in PMO?" Rahane wondered aloud. Ahuja smirked bitterly.
"Everywhere is a mole, Kid. That's not the issue here." He exhaled sharply, "Only four people were present during this proposition, PM himself, the Environment Minister, the architect of this dam and the CEO of the company who proposed the idea. The CEO and architect is clean, the Minister has no reason to swear allegiance to Islamabad, and PM is out of question." He picked up a photograph, "Saw these? They are not actual documents, rather pictures of them. The meeting took place in a well secured room, second only to panic room in Parliament. The PM himself carried the documents and put it in his safety locker. He was shocked out of his wits when he saw the leak. I am pulling my hair out to understand how this got out." He looked at others, "So, any of you have any theory, feel free. Because I am out of my damn mind here."
"Forget how it happened." Dubey sat up, looking alarmed, "Did it occur to you what else discussion took place in that already compromised room? What else document this General got his hands on?"
"It's a mole, not a fault of room." The same female RAW director replied, making him huff.
"We are trying to find out. Meanwhile, an ambitious 2000 crore project had to be stopped even before it took place because we were compromised." Ahuja said.
"So that's the reason Brigadier ran to escape another scene." A male director spoke up.
"Someone in PM's house?" Rahane asked.
"The secure locker is top class. It has biometric identification system, voice recognition and retina scan. The room always has guards. We are cross checking all of them but it's unlikely we will get anything. They were handpicked by Army General."
After a long pause of silence, a very senior veteran spoke up, "Mr. Ahuja, if I may." Getting a nod from Ahuja, he started, speaking slow, "Things like this didn't to us, ever. There is a general dislike for our neighbour among us which, at least, protected us from leaks like this. But seems like we have a cross border sympathizer here. This doesn't necessary mean Lahore General got it from us, it maybe some other Embassy. After all, new age technology is fast."
"If we take that route, Sir," Dubey soften his tone, giving a bow to the veteran, "Every Diplomat will be under scanner, which is a tiring process. However we act, the truth is everyone is backstabbing everyone under the table."
"Meanwhile more information can slip past." Rahane added.
"Not necessarily." The Veteran countered, "If foreigners are under scanner they will be discreet. The flow of information will be halted. And Mr. Deputy Chief," He paused with a twinkle in eyes, "it's called gaining leverage. Backstabbing is too crass of a word."
Everyone let out heart chuckle and the atmosphere lightened up somewhat. Sobering up, the veteran started speaking again, everyone listening to him in rapt attention.
"The difference between how we used to act 10 years ago, and now, is the advancement of technology. During our time, passing information was not so easy. Things have changed now, so we need to change our outlook too." He gave a meaningful look to Ahuja, "I suggest, you dig deeper than usual. And include Technology. For all their good work, they can be exploited too." He said vaguely.
Dubey and Rahane met each- other's eyes quizzically.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"We grossly underestimated this Red gang." Sameer dropped a file on the table of discussion room, behind him Shree shifted on his feet, his posture tensed. Riya leaned forward slightly at the duo's presence just as Arjun picked up the file to have a look inside.
The Red gang is a group of scumbags who smuggle kids and teenagers, even toddlers to Middle East, Russia and China. Their activity was always on high alert but recently their hands reached a kid close to a powerful MP's family in Odisha. Odisha CID tracked the kid till Maharashtra, in the City to be accurate, and that's how the case fell in the hands of ETF. Riya was not far- fetched in her assessment when she said they don't handle case like this, but like Aisha said, they didn't have any other choice.
Arjun's face twisted in disgust and he shut the file, "God." He muttered, looking at Sameer who had identical expression on his face, "They were just kids."
Shree handed over the file to Riya, but even before she opened it she knew what will be inside. Her fingers shook lightly as it flipped the first page open and she swallowed hard.
Someone behind her gasped and her fingers dropped on their own, "Is this recent?" It was Sakshi, who had just entered. Sameer shook his head.
"2 years ago. Police got a tip and reached there. Found these instead." Shree answered the crime journo. She looked like she was about to throw up.
"They didn't even reach their teenage years." Sakshi said after a while, "What kind of sick monster are these people?"
"We have to be extra careful next time." Arjun spoke up, his voice hard, "Can't let this same thing happen twice." Looking at Shree he asked, "Any tip about their next consignment?"
The IT expert shook his head, "Chotu's informer have their ears open. Nothing so far." Frowning, he turned to Riya, "Don't you have anyone who can help?"
Riya looked up at him slowly and shook her head once. Shree looked sheepish.
"I guess we are just used to you having someone up your sleeve." Sameer said lightly, but his expression turned into worry when the ACP ducked her head and looked away, her face grave.
"They are dangerous people, guys." Sakshi said eyeing them all, "They beheaded these girls and left them for Police. Clearly, they are ruthless. Should we really engage ourselves with them?"
"We are assigned with this case, what else choice do we have?" Arjun quirked his eyebrow.
"I don't know, feels like this is way out of our league." The crime journo admitted. At the indignant sound from Shree she defended herself, "You know it's true."
"We will handle this case and come out as winner." The Second-in-Command spoke with confidence, giving her an assured look, "Nothing bad will happen."
"Atta boy." Sameer cheered, clearly in agreement. The foursome engaged themselves with further talk about the case, meanwhile Riya found herself looking at the cursed file once again. Giving penetrating look to each of the pictures, she put them aside, her breathing coming as deep and irregular. Coming at the last picture, her fingers halted for the second time in less than a few minutes.
Bloody writing on the wall, mocking the police for their late arrival.
A chill ran down her spine.
"Who tipped the police, By the way?" Sakshi inquired to none particular, "Was that anonymous?"
"A random guy they busted during an illegal alcohol shop raid. He begged them to listen to him, they thought he is bluffing. One of them decided to follow the location he mentioned, that's when they came across these." Sameer motioned toward the pictures and Sakshi cringed, shuddering the next moment.
"If only they had listened to him earlier." She replied, "What happened to him?"
"He died in custody." The answer came from Riya, who never removed her eyes from the last picture of the crime scene.
"How do you know?" The crime journo asked. This time, Riya arranged all the pictures and document exactly the way they were when it was handed over to them, busying herself so that images of incident occurred over two years doesn't haunt her in the middle of a case discussion, not in front of everyone.
"It's written here." She answered, to which Sakshi nodded, before joining the conversation again.
Riya didn't spoke again for the rest of meeting.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
When Rahane went inside the Deputy Chief's cabin a few days later to inquire about his theory of 'Delhi serial killer', the DC looked like he's ready to pull his own hair out. There were dark circles under his eyes, his hair was disheveled, clothes wrinkled beyond repair and there were at least 6 empty mugs of coffee.
"I thought you are the Coffee guy." Dubey sounded disappointed. Rahane gave an apologetic look.
"How long you have been here?"
"I guess since the damned meeting." He replied, leaning back on the backrest of his chair and stretching himself as he spoke. Various knots in his limbs cracked at the movement, making Rahane wince.
"Anything new on that?" He took a seat. Dubey sighed.
"Only that the General from Lahore was getting various information of our country since months. Him and some other high ranked army officers. Defense, agriculture, foreign policy, you name it." Dubey replied, rubbing his temple, "Some of the meeting occurred in Parliament, some in PMO, some in PM's residence, and some in various ministry offices. So really, it's not the fault of a single location."
Rahane blew a breath, stunned at the revelation, "This is huge." He muttered.
"No shit." Dubey snorted, "The funny thing? The only person common in all these meetings is the PM. But we both know how Ahuja will react if you say this on his face."
"It makes no sense."
"Exactly. Just have to find what does." Dubey looked at him, "Why are you here?"
"It's less important than what you are handling." He dismissed it with a wave of hand.
"Sahaay?" He inquired, to which Rahane nodded, "That's a hell of a theory, I will give you that. Maybe it makes sense too, but my head is too filled with this new thing. My apologies."
Rahane gave a nod of head in solidarity, feeling the heat himself. Dubey snorted all of a sudden, making him curious.
"Life would have been so easy if somehow these two things are connected. We get Sahaay and Boom! All problems solved."
"Wishful thinking." He humoured him. The Senior official gave him a mock glare.
"Don't ruin my fantasy."
Rahane laughed.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Everything in the world can have duality, can be leave open for interpretation, but not running. Running is always about leaving something behind, to reach something ahead. A short escape from the problem, though it never make promises of result. No assurances, no guarantee, just another step to reach the goal.
For Riya, running was always about escaping a part of her life and heading toward a new beginning, a new chapter in life. It was true the day she took the train for City and left Hydrabad behind, it was true the day she handed over her resignation and made permanent hole in Ravi lodge, it was true when she hit dead end in the most important case of her life and thought different ways to approach that.
Not today, though. She was trying to run today, but it was not helping. The image of beheaded girls never left her mind, neither her ears were free from constant pleading of the man behind bars who begged the police to listen to him. The feelings overwhelmed her, sometime made her pause in track, sometime made her desperate to push herself to the end so that she can get peace, just for a second. But her overactive mind never spared her that luxury, so a brand new level of Hell emerged for her. The fire burnt her constantly, making it impossible for her to function or pull herself together.
Her list of doing shitty things really has a way to come back and haunt her in worst moments.
Slowing down her run, she took several deep breaths, her grip tightening on knees as she bend over. The soothing sound and cool air of beach did nothing to ease her anxiety. It never did anyway, Nature was not her type.
Straightening once again, she freed her hair from the trap that was her black hairband, running fingers through them as she stared unfocussed toward the sea and ships that were too far away. Just for a few seconds her mind was empty, there was no sound, no imagery, and no anxiety. It was as calm as it could be.
Then her phone rang.
The tranquility was short lived.
Making an irritated noise, she pulled her phone out from her pants pocket and pressed the answer button without even looking at the caller ID, "What?" She barked into it.
There was no response on the other side. She had decided for such an early time in morning it was enough of courtesy she could show and was about to cut the call when the person spoke up from other side.
"Was it for me or you answered your phone before you saw the caller ID, again?"
The irritated expression was gone and shock overtook it, but just for a few second. Her mind still takes time to process the fact that her ex-Boyfriend, whom she thought was dead, was indeed, alive.
She didn't need this too. As if the case was not enough.
"Why are you calling me?" She asked in an exhausted tone, her eyes suddenly filled with unshed tears. She blinked hard for a couple of times.
Neel Sighed on the other side, "I told you, I need your help."
"Then why you don't meet me somewhere? Why can't we talk face to face?" She demanded angrily, "Why you can't tell me what's going on?" Her voice soften, barely above a whisper. For a desperate moment she wanted him to be a victim, wanted herself to be a victim.
Then she remembered all those documents Rahane showed her.
The self- pity was gone instantly.
"They are after me, Ri." He answered quietly.
"They who?" She countered, then added, "If you can't meet me because of them, how are you contacting me?"
"I take precautions."
"Then take the same precaution and meet me." She spoke firmly, "I need to know what's going on, who are after you. What can I do to help?" Her face twisted in disgust but she went on, "Trust me."
He didn't answer for a long time. She thought he won't and would cut the call without saying anything, but he surprised her.
"I will inform the date and time." He answered cautiously, exhaling a breath, "Take precaution, please."
"I will." She said. The breathing stopped on the other side, his tone softer this time.
"Love you."
With that, he cut the call. She tightened her grip on phone so hard that the plastic case cracked due to the pressure.
"Fuck you." She whispered to herself, her lower lip trembling. A treacherous tear made its way down the corner of her eyes and she wiped it away angrily, speed-dialing another number as she sniffed.
Rahane responded immediately. He was desperate himself, went a little overboard with his opinion that she should have prodded him more to meet him, but caught himself before she could say something offensive to that. Ending the call when she had nothing to say, and he had only sympathy to offer, she stared at the ocean once again, thinking about the unfairness of it all. How dare he did that to her? How dare he ruined everything?
How dare the nature remained unfazed the day he did the unthinkable, and still is?
When the second call from Shree came, she turned her back on the ocean and headed out without another glance.
Reaching the office that day, Riya noticed others were already on the move in regarding to their latest case. Chotu's informer had finally something and they had a location now. They are expecting the 'Consignment', nearly 30 kids, boys and girls, before they are shipped off to Russia. The location was 2 KM away from the same port where she and rest of ETF along with Raghu sir went to drop the ransom money to Sheen's kidnapper, which turned out to be a misdirection.
Running seemed like the recurring theme of today. The tip was proven right, and suddenly the ETF along with Local police and Special Forces found themselves on the receiving end of the bullet-rain of the members of Red gang. They retaliate the best they could, utmost priority being the kids and freeing them. After 5 hour of constant gun fighting the Special Forces got an opening and they moved to free the kids and take them to a safe place, leaving ETF and local police to tackle the rest of gang.
The day was slowly coming to an end and visibility was a problem for both the party. Sensing the best way to save themselves is to Run, the remaining members of Red gang started to flee, making ETF and local police chase after them. They all spread out, following the scumbags through various turns and alleys and putting them down one by one.
Riya and a young male officer was chasing down who seemed to be the Brother of the head of Red gang, according to surveillance pictures Shree showed them. He vanished inside a make shift hut which used to be labor colony when the Port was getting build. They two made silent communication through eyes and headed to different directions to trap him.
It was only when Riya entered inside did she realize what place it was. The timing was too late.
2 years and unforgiving weather damaged the make shift room further, but she could still pick up the strong smell of blood. It was worst when her head unknowingly moved toward the wall, half expecting the bloody writing on it, mocking her for her mistakes and failures.
Later she would analyze the situation over and over in her mind and come across only one possible answer - she got cold feet during an encounter, on field. It was ridiculous, because one, she never had one, and two, she would have known if she was not ready and would have pulled herself out, and not put her team and everyone involved in jeopardy, including herself.
The truth was, her body and mind had shut down. She could hear nothing, feel nothing, sense nothing. For a moment she had forgotten the time, the place, the danger she was in. Her fingers were numb on the cold metal, her feet were too heavy to move. Only her eyes were working, staring at the wall as if she had seen a ghost. The logical part of her brain knew there was nothing on it but yet she could make out the dry blood and the words. Maybe if she tried harder, if her body worked with her brain and her neck could move, she would have seen one beheaded body of a girl too.
Something hard collided to her and she fell down on ground hard, shocked out of her wits. A gun shot rang out a second later and several voices could be heard, but she didn't register. The collision had taken her by surprise, true, but she didn't get up at once because she was taking the precious moments to make sure she was not spiraling out of control again, that she was pulling herself back together and now ready to face the world.
"Dammit!" Someone was speaking near her, grabbing her upper arm so that she can turn, or get up, she could not tell, "Please be alright, Girl, or else he won't react well."
Take a deep breath, she moved, squinting her eyes. Sameer swore and the next moment a handkerchief was pressed against her temple. There was Chotu as well, and that young police officer. The Brother of the head of Red gang was lying dead a few feet away from them.
"I am so sorry." Chotu's apology forced her to tear her gaze away from the dead body, "He was aiming at you, there was not enough time. You were . . . " He stopped himself, pressing his lips together.
"Distracted." Riya finished for him. Sameer eyed them both but didn't comment on it, pulling her on feet.
"Can you stand?" He asked. At her nod and his quick inspection he looked satisfied, "Let's get out of here."
Liza fussed around her more than her cut on temple needed. She reminded Riya of her Grandmother, who was always so worried she would die bleeding out somewhere. She even winced like her, she noticed and smiled a little to herself, like a secret joke.
"Sorry." The Forensic expert winced as she sewed the cut, apologizing and handling her gently like she is a precious doll, "The stitch is necessary. It will heal in weeks, no worries."
"Will there be a scar?" Chotu inquired timidly, casting apologetic look at her probably for the thousand times.
"Oh no. It will be as good as new." Liza replied.
"Who cares about scar?" Riya asked to none particular.
"Because they are cool, right?" Sameer added in his usual teasing tone. She nodded once and drew a smile from him, but his eyes were full of questions.
"I am sorry." Chotu started once again, and stopped only when the ACP raised a hand to stop him.
"If you were not there, I would have been dead." Liza's fingers stilled at the word, but the former went on, "Better a cut than dead body, right?"
Chotu looked unconvinced and she sighed, "Do not apologize for saving my life. Thank you, instead. I am in your debt."
A blush rose in his cheeks and he stammered to say anything, just as the other two in the room beamed at him. Time passed and they left, both giving her matching expressions which, could have been of pride, or of relief, because she made it out alive, she didn't know. She was already far away from the building of ETF, inside the same make shift room two years ago in the dark of night, watching the blood spill from dead bodies and mixing with rain water outside.
Someone sat beside her and she snapped out of her dazed state, silently berating herself to be aware of her surroundings. Today, too many times others took her by surprise. She could have been seriously hurt, or maybe that young police officer, or Chotu just because she was distracted in her job.
"There was no mention of someone dying in Police custody linked to this case in the files." Sameer started, looking ahead, sparing her the betrayed look she could feel all of them would have if they had known anything about it. She didn't reply immediately.
"His name was Jayesh." She spoke after a long time, her voice coming quiet and soft, like she was speaking from far. "I had heard he keeps news of various circles. I needed him."
"For your informer squad." Sameer nodded. She didn't respond, just blinked.
"I did the same thing I did when I wanted others. I followed him for a few days, picked up on his routine. He was a regular in an alcohol shop, the license of it was long ago expired. The SP of local PS was friend with one of my batch-mate. They raided the place, caught him and others. For the entire night he kept shouting that some gang is smuggling kids in the port area, begged the officers in station to listen to him. They didn't, thinking he was bluffing. One of them headed toward that location long after midnight, just to satisfy himself. It was raining." She stopped suddenly, but he didn't need her to say anything more. He could imagine the dead bodies, the writing on the wall, the blood on floor and strong smell of copper in the air.
"The gang knew he gave them up?" He asked after a few beat had passed.
"They saw the police taking him. They thought he was their informer." Her lips curled upward, "The irony is not lost on me." Sighing, she continued, "When that lone police officer informed others about what he saw, they left the station. They left him alone. When a constable for the morning shift entered, he saw Jayesh stabbed inside his cell."
Sameer echoed her sigh, lost in his own train of thoughts as he stared ahead blankly. The duo sat there in silence, their feet dangling in the air as they sat on the edge of desk.
"Which part of this story you blame yourself for?" He asked all of a sudden, making her head turn.
"Is not it all my fault?" She inquired back, her expression one of remorse, "Choosing him. Following him. Trapping him. For not listening to his pleads. For getting him killed by the gang. Or maybe the fault started a long time ago. My coming to city. Falling in love with a ghost whose true face I could not decipher. Hell bent on getting revenge when there is no reason for." She lowered her head in shame.
"If you listened to Jayesh and headed toward the Port, you might have been killed by the gang." Sameer argued.
"Maybe it would have been better." Her voice had barely held contempt for herself, "People around me tend to get hurt somehow. I am a curse for them. Things would have been different. Better."
He turned to look at her, "Really? If you were dead Haqqani would not have been here? RAW would have never found out about Sahaay? This mission, whatever it is, it would not have happened?" Shaking his head, he continued, "You overestimate yourself and carry too much of burden on your shoulder. Things were planning to happen from a long time. You were just a catalyst, a character in story. We all are."
"What about the people who got hurt? Who died?"
"Causalities of war." He replied simply, as if it's obvious, "In every great war, people dies. Shit happens. It's not a particular person's fault, it's the events that lead up to their fates." Giving her a firm gaze, he added, "Besides, it's not like they were innocent person. Granted, they were small fishes, insignificant in the big course of action, but have you ever thought how many kids were affected due to their drug dealing? How many people were murdered because these fishes followed them around and tipped off criminal gangs? How many people were terrorized and looted because of them?"
"So they got what they deserved?" She asked.
"Yes and No. Who are we to say what others deserve and deserve not? Who knows how God works?" At her quiet sigh, he added, "Destiny. It works in curious way. One person can only hope to change the wheel of destiny, but often succeeds."
Keeping a hand on her head, Sameer continued, "It's time you forgive yourself, bit by bit, for everything you ever did. This burden you carry, it will destroy you. It has already started. One day the pressure will be too much. Even the distraction technic won't work."
She wanted to say It's already not working, but kept quiet. He gave a quick pat on her head, hopped down from the desk and stood in front of her.
"Go to your apartment and brood there." His words made her chuckle, "See you tomorrow."
He left the room after giving her one last look, and Riya found herself once again alone. Absent mindedly, she checked the bandage on her temple, seeing if there is any blood coming out or not. Though she knew very well Liza doesn't do weak work.
Just another way to stall, her mind taunted. Rolling her eyes at her own self, she looked right ahead, not really hoping to see something interesting.
But she did, anyway.
Across the hallway in another cabin, Sakshi was wrapping a bandage on Arjun's palm, the latter wincing more than usual and from the shake of the crime journo's head, Riya figured she was apologizing for her incompetence. For a moment she wondered where is Liza, then dismissed the thought. Maybe the crime journo insisted on patching him up. Maybe he wanted her to tend his wounds.
She wondered where this heaviness is coming from. She has no right, after all.
She was not fast enough to tear her gaze from them, which surely looked stalker like. When Arjun moved and caught her gaze, she held it for one second, then looked away. Hopping down from the desk, she opened the door and walked out quietly.
Arjun's eyes followed until she had vanished at the end of hallway and then inside elevator, an unreadable expression on his face. He snapped out of it only when Sakshi pulled on his bandage with more force than necessary and both of them winced.
"Sorry, sorry." She apologized. He shook his head.
"Here, let me do that." He gently got back his hand to not offend her, wrapping the remaining bandage around his palm. A worried look came over her, but it vanished quickly.
"Nice work, today. You saved many kids life."
"We all did." He answered quietly, forcefully looking at his palm as she beamed proudly.
"We should celebrate." Her voice had an undercurrent of nervousness. He finished wrapping his bandage and looked up.
"Sure." He answered with a small smile. Her grin widened.
"Lunch?"
"Tomorrow."
She nodded enthusiastically, barely able to suppress her excited squeal. With a quick goodbye, she was out of door, sauntering through the office.
Watching the extra bounce in her steps, Arjun was suddenly hit with a feeling that he did something wrong. Worse was, a part of him knew it was wrong, but did anyway.
With an expression which mirrored Riya's self-loathing, he pulled at his recently wrapped bandage. Leaving it half wrapped, he put both palm beside his frame and leaned forward, his eyes closed and breath heavy.
A trail of blood fell on the floor, followed by many.