Possible Indian Military Scenarios - Part I

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Postby Singha » 28 Nov 2004 18:08

The Awakening...

Katrina Sehgal gunned the throttle of her BMW3xi down the leafy broad
avenue away from CP. the powerful little all wheel car responded like a
champ, cruising effortlessly past buses, two wheelers and other cars as
she skillfully weaved in and out of the 2 lanes of traffic. A couple of husky
looking studs on a yamaha mobike gave her a appreciative look and
playfully chased her for a while....she smiled and then left them for dead
at the next rotary as she dived in just before a lumbering DTC bus, her
car holding well in a tight and fast turn by virtue of its superb wide pirelli
tyres and suspension. both the guys looked well endowed down below,
she made a mental note to chat them up if they ever appeared at a party.

Life was good. Today she had spent with her friends Natalie and Varsha
shopping for designer brands in CP and the days loot was piled high in the
back seat. After a movie in satyam and lunch at a trendy bistro, time to
head home, catch some sleep and prepare for tonights party at the
Hyatt..Nikhil (her current boyfriend) would be around to pick her up at
8:00...the night was full of promise..yum..she licked her lips sensuously.

Traffic grew heavier as she negotiated the ring road and headed into
Greater Kailash 2. The big mansions of the rich & famous lining the well
kept streets. No riff raff allowed in these environs - the area was chock
full of top businessmen, expats, highly paid executives, politicians and
celebs. She stopped briefly at a market to pickup some imported Evian
mineral water to refill the stock in her car, munched a sandwich made
with imported english ham and finally headed home.

Home was a nice 6-bed 6-bath 2 storey painted a clean white with brown
wood door & window frames ...decorative red tiles on sloping RCC roof.
Karan Sehgal, senior IAS officer and bureaucrat in the ministry defence
in charge of defence logistics had bought the handsome structure about
15 years ago, today he was 55 and nearning retirement but still maintained a very active lifestyle. Katrinas mother Shyamolie' had passed away 10 years ago and Karan had raised Katrina and her twin brother Aalok almost alone over the years. They went for foreign vacations every year and had never wanted for anything. In a area and culture bursting to the seams with black money, no questions were asked and none entertained. Aalok had secured a seat and joined Harvard Pol science by virtue of a paying the full fees on his own. Katrina was presently doing International relations in DU. She hated her studies and wasnt a very bright girl, but her excellent social skills and the quiet connections of her father ensured she stayed above the water as far as academic progress was concerned.

Many years ago, Katrina had sometimes wondered where all the family
wealth came from...her father had told the children sometimes of their
ancestral landed wealth and farms in punjab...though he had never found
the time to actually take the children there...later he told them of the
textile plant he had started there as a side business that later bloomed into a very successful venture. Katrina didnt bother too much about it,
thinking deeply about anything always stressed her out and didnt seem to
her a attractive way of spending time. The BMW was a 21st birthday gift
and she had gone wild with joy, freaking out with her similarly endowed
friends all over the city. Life was good.

She turned into their lane and curved deftly into the driveway leading
under the covered front porch.....two Govt black ambassadors
were parked there ....strange...nobody ever came on
saturdays..saturdays were sacred time kept for the family.

With a vague air of irritation she stopped , picked up her bags of designer stuff from the backseat and walked into the drawing room.

Two tough looking men were sitting there....her father was also with them
and her heart sank with concern at how her father looked...ashen and

one of the men motioned to her to come and sit with her father. She
suppressed the protest in her throat after looking at the expression on
the mans face...something she had never experienced...a look of contempt and pure malice. she shivered and rushed to her fathers side.

Six other RAW-counterintel agents continued to turn the house upside


March1, 2008
Eyes Only CCS
From: RAW counterintel dept

The Karan Sehgal investigation has been brought to a successful
conclusion and full confession has been obtained. The summary of
the information obtained has been :
* recruitment by CIA case officer in Paris 26 years ago where
he met and married his late french wife Shyamolie'
* used as a deep cover mole only for high value leaks
* one Jim Andersson a cultural attache in US embassy Delhi is the current
* dead letter drops in buddha jayanti park and nehru park used for
instructions, mr. seghal was a daily visitor for morning walks
* a cipher book found in his residence to encode information in innocent
emails sent to his son in boston. It appears his son has obtained a
green card and a faculty appointment in a boston college after passing
from harvard last year, so it must be assumed he is also into this affair
but out of reach from us now.
* unaccounted wealth hidden in cayman islands account with # found
on the inside of rear cover of his watch
* he has confessed to passing on deployment details of conventional
armed forces to his handler. However we believe JTF details were not
under his purview and have evaded exposure.

He is being held without judicial remand within our system. Our legal
department as advised against making anything public because it will
inevitably invite judicial and HR intervention egged on by his political
and bureaucrat friends. A media cyclone cannot be afforded at this

No actions against the american handler will be undertaken at this
time except a very discreet surveillance to see if there is a backup

March3, 2008
Eyes only: Gen Sastry chairman joint chiefs
CC: Brigadier G Joseph

CCS has decided to advance the timeline for special operation. You are
hereby fully authorized to release Black Raven for its mission at your
earliest convenience. We shall expect a 24 hr notice before h-hour. Political preparations for the aftermath you can consider complete.
Good luck and jai hind

PM Arora
Last edited by Singha on 28 Nov 2004 18:58, edited 1 time in total.

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Postby JTull » 28 Nov 2004 18:33

MTS, this is yummy. What's the source of this fiction?

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Postby Singha » 28 Nov 2004 19:00

not much except my delirious mind.

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Postby kgoan » 28 Nov 2004 21:19


Does RAW do counterintel? I thought that was handled by a different set of initials.

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Postby Singha » 29 Nov 2004 03:02

probably intelligence bureau should do it, but IB has been subverted into acting as a political spy agency for the ruling party of the day per media reports.

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Postby JTull » 29 Nov 2004 03:36

MT Singha wrote:not much except my delirious mind.

You've then missed the opportunity to use your character as a double agent. That is the only possible utility value of a 'discovered' foreign agent as the possiblity of backup agent is feeble argument not to publicy identify the handler. Remember that the handlers have only one life under diplomatic veil till his activities in host country are compromised.

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Postby Singha » 29 Nov 2004 05:04

with the s*** about to hit the fan, theres not much scope to pass on misinformation. but anyway the guy is held incommunicado somewhere having told his friends he is away on a compulsory visit to Port Blair. so he
could be used later. His daughter and domestic servant are also held and he will continue to make phone calls to his son. So to his american handlers things should look ok. as a top Mod official he is expected to travel a bit
now and then.

if they suspect something is wrong, they can
* withdraw his handler - good riddance
* disregard the info he passed on as false - good , its their loss
* not know at what point or if he has been turned so a review would
need to be undertaken of his past leaks

The indian side can never be very sure regardless of truth serums if he
did find out something of JTF from friends in the service or Mod, all sorts
of classified info sometimes get passed where they should not in casual

So from indian pov its very important to set the ball rolling asap and
drive to a favourable closure before the US wakes up (if the US knows
of the inner layer of plans). hence JTF black raven has been released and
the others release awaits successful conclusion of the black raven's mission.

The idea is force every closure situation unfavourable to India off the
table at the earliest, so those that remain all favour us with varying
degrees of pain , suffering and humiliation to Pak, PRC and Unkil.
then it becomes a matter of deciding the cost-benefit ratio of every
closure option by the CCS with some gains already locked in. This gives
them a lot of flexibility in any 'ladder'

I need to nail down a few details of background info before the next
chapter. its going to be the longest probably and certainly a most
complex objective (though I will leave it unsaid what!)
Last edited by Singha on 29 Nov 2004 16:18, edited 3 times in total.

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Postby JTull » 29 Nov 2004 06:14

Good work MTS. You've convinced me of the need to go thru the entire thread.

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Postby Sunil » 29 Nov 2004 10:44

Nice touch.. I am going to poke in just a bit.

DIG S. Warichoo watched as Katrina walked into the front room of her house. The moment of distraction passed, and thoughts turned to Karan seated in front of him. Dark thoughts filled his mind. The son of a Kashmiri police officer who had been killed in Srinagar in the early days of the militancy, Satish Warichoo had left for a transition camp along with his sister and mother. He had hoped to become a doctor or an engineer like so many young men in his time, but unfortunately for Satish, this was not to be. In an ill fated decision, the mother and daughter had decided to undertake the Chadi Mubarak. The pilgrims were supposed to travel under escort of the CRPF and Kashmir Police. However unknown to anyone, a section of the Kashmiri Police officers had defected to the HM, and late at night along the route, a few HM jihadis slipped into the crowds. They didn't kill anyone, those were not the orders from Col. Imtiaz of the ISI's Unit 205 at Muzaffarabad -they just raped the women, and for no real reason paid special attention to Satish's sister. The sister committed suicide one month later, and the mother went mad with grief.

As Satish stood by the banks of the Yamuna lighting his sister's funeral pyre, unseen hands began sculpting the next stage of Satish's journey. A few weeks later, Satish found himself in a small house near Gurgaon, facing an old man, a legend in the community. For the old man this was a terrible time, each day people streamed into his house and fell at his feet with stories of horror and terror. At first it was the families of intelligence officers in mofussil areas, then it was the turn of uniformed police officers and soon civilians were being targetted. People from everywhere Rainawari, Pulwama, Anantnag... turned up at his door. No day passed without sharing their grief and each one asked him to wreak vengeance on their behalf ... and each time around with his steely eyes the old man simply looked on and said nothing. The old man ran his hand through his silvery hair and asked Satish, "Are you certain you want to do this?", and with a tone of utmost deference to the old man's service record, Satish replied "Sir, there is nothing else for me to do."... The old man nodded and a year later Satish was back in J&K as the deputy head of a little known unit of the Kashmir Police in Anantnag called Counter Intelligence Kashmir. Work had been hard, Ashok Patel's "Boys" were a hard act to follow but they had managed somehow. It had been a long journey from there to here.

The media had fancy names for what he did, he saw it in a very simple fashion. There would always be people whose loyalties would be a problem, his job was to make sure that these people did not become a problem. Simple enough - but that never quite became apparent to those that reviewed the section's work. A number of people believed that some sort of public song and dance had to be made of the matter, some of the newer breed from "the Liberal Colleges of India" actually felt that there had to be trials in a court. The old hands of the unit disagreed, and among the retired crowd of the "old school" there were peals of laughter when this idea was raised - one old-timer nearly fell off his chair laughing at the India International Center when there was a seminar on this topic.

The "old school" had sprung up in the 70s and matured in the 80s and 90s. Their predecessors were all british trained police officers, masters at the art of political intelligence but never ones to lose sight of the human aspects of things. Their charm, polished style and gentlemanly manner was ill placed to deal with the troubles of their time. They did well for what little training they started out with, but the "old school" - was cut from a different cloth. The older members of the school had seen the failings of the British trained policemen so adjusted accordingly, the younger ones learned their lessons the hard way - on the job in places like Gantok, Mandalay, Amritsar, Jaffna, Jalalabad or Srinagar. They had watched as brother turned against brother and fathers sold out sons, but most of all they had watched as law enforcement officers, the very sinews of government, defected to the enemy side and they had sat through it all.

Each man through years of blood sweat and tears had learned one and only one law "Kill or Be Killed" and most did not even trust their own shadows. Now at the start of the new millenium, the old school was fading, its members dying or slipping into bouts of amnesia brought about by old age. Many had killed themselves, but the old school had made its mark, it had imparted its knowledge to the next generation - to people like Satish. And the effects were now being felt in the war in Kashmir and the unrelenting the struggle against organized crime. Satish had been trained by the best of the old school and he had imbibed their point of view. Some issues were best never discussed, and the quiet manner in which things were done created legends of sorrow, and painted Satish's boys into the shadows, where they hung like vengeful angels waiting to strike at the first opportunty.

The last media fracas had been a total pain, every second jacka** had taken it upon himself to sound like an expert on the issue. Higher powers had attempted an entry into the back rooms of the organization. So upon recieving the nod from the Boss, DIG Warichoo had ended all debate on the matter with a well aimed .22 slug in the back of the concerned gentleman's head. The media circus had carried on for a few months, but ultimately the public bored of the matter and everything went back to the way it was. The rule "What happens in the Company, Stays in the Company" had held.

Now it wouldn't be the same. There would be reprecussions and simple solutions would not work. Something had to be done to limit the potential for damage - thought Satish. This was a strange game, stranger than even the most seasoned hands would admit. It was in reality a maze - no - a wilderness of mirrors as an American called James Jesus Angleton had once characterized it. An adversary would place a mirror near you and using that he would see everything you saw. The only way to defeat this scheme was to place with the utmost care another mirror right in front of what you wanted the adversary to see and ensure that its reflection fell upon the first mirror. But this was the most difficult part, all too often the mirrors would simply end up facing each other, and all concerned would decieve themselves - a rare and vital opportunity would be lost. Done well this trick could impose a serious burden on the adversary, the presence of the second mirror like all other devices would eventually be discovered, and the adversary would then incur the cost of trying to determine at what point the mirror itself was placed. This was a sensitive affair.

A sense of contempt grew in Satish's mind when he considered the fools who would simply not understand this. Glancing at the intelligence agents ripping the place apart, and with a gathering air of irritation he snapped at the Assistant Intelligence Officer standing next to him, "Mistry ... is ghar mey chai bhi hain ya nahi?"... Mistry replied with a curt "Janaab, abhi ley aate hain.."
Last edited by Sunil on 08 Dec 2004 20:08, edited 21 times in total.

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Postby kgoan » 29 Nov 2004 12:33

Serious mistake to underestimate what IB does.

Occasionally, the so-called "steel backbone" requires a set of claws that can be discretely wielded within specific circumstances. IB provides them.

The DDM version? Well, recall that they used to refer to R & AW as the "Relatives and Associates Wing", even while they were quitely fileting the Khalistanis.

Anyway, no more distractions.

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Postby max » 29 Nov 2004 13:33

MT, Sunil_s and other talented people what happened to "blood on the sand scenario.

Just curious

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Postby JTull » 29 Nov 2004 18:35

Just spent good part of last 12 hours going thru this thread. I've only one word. Wow! Had no clue what I was missing.

Immensely entertaining, brilliantly articulate and very timely!

Rudra, a great piece of work. I'll be honoured to help you publish this internationally. Let me know what're your plans and how you'd like to proceed.

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Postby JTull » 29 Nov 2004 20:22

Okay, let me throw a pigeon among the cats.

Superpower mantra

It was 10:30am as the Secretary of State made her way to the conference room. She had only arrived in the early hours of the morning after another round of futile diplomacy in the middle east and the black coffee was not helping the lingering headache.

The morning brief was unusually close to buzz she had heard in Tel Aviv. Several huge planes were reported to have flown from the Ben Gurion international airport of the Israel Aircraft Industries. Deputy assistant to the defense secretary, who happened to be in town that day, had told her outside US ambassadors office that they could be the An-124, a very recognizable Russian product with four turbofans mounted on pylons under the wings.

Israelis were rumored to be shipping their latest UCAVs (Unmanned combat air vehicles) to some unknown destination. These were, as usual, built in collaboration with major vendors in US and part financed by the US govt. At present only US and Israel had the ability to deploy this secure mechanism to liquidate moving targets in hostile territories without risking pilot lives over unfriendly regimes.

It was indeed worrisome if Israel had decided to unilaterally ship these to a third country. That meant loss of business for US firms and another technology leaking out to rivals. It was always unpleasant to be reminded by the powerful defense industry lobby of it’s financial help in securing the second term for this administration. A smile crossed her lips as she remembered how she got her current office in the new term and by now the headache was forgotten.

As she entered everyone quickly sat around the large oak table. At her glance, each official reported briefly what had happened in the previous week and what lay ahead for the week ahead. After quick questions the meeting was over and everyone was trooping out when she asked her specialists for middle east and South Asia to stay back. The briefing had covered most of the issues but she had purposefully held back her questions.

The defense brief earlier had indicated that the first of the second batch of three Phalcons was being readied by Israel and delivery to India was imminent. Two weeks earlier, the Russians had delivered a refurbished aircraft carrier to a contingent from Indian Navy and it was now just south of the Suez canal. A pair of Israeli submarines were said to be tailing the ship to sanitize the Red Sea ahead of dash east around the Sinai Peninsula. The Port of Dhiba at the north end of Red Sea coast of Saudi Arabia has now firmly in the hands of the rebels and any misadventure by the the Israelis or the Indians could cause of catastrophe. Now this new report of UCAV supplies to India had concerned her staff of India’s intentions.

It had taken almost a decade for her office to build a reasonable leverage with the Musharaff govt. and any misadventure by this Indian govt. ahead of next year’s elections there could seriously harm the good work in securing influence over central Asia. As she discussed with her chosen few, she increasingly believed that new information along with massive deployment by Indian Navy in the Bay of Bengal pointed to just two possibilities. Either the Indians were determined to annex Bangladesh for good or were even more audacious and were attempting to open up a front each on east and west. Bangladesh was minor irritant and it didn’t matter even if didn’t exist but the thought of Indo-Pak confrontation chilled her spine because of the nuclear angle involved. She could again feel the throbbing in her forehead.

Just as she was gathering her thoughts and preparing to wind up the meeting, the secure phone in the room started flashing the orange button. Few seconds later she found out that one of the new generation ELINT satellites has picked up communications traffic from one of the suspected new command bunkers just north of New Delhi. It seemed India was activating it’s full nuclear command structure.

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Postby daulat » 29 Nov 2004 22:30

Katrina made her excuses to the two tough looking men as her father sat downcast. "Girl things" she smiled and fluttered her long lashes, and got them to agree to let her go upstairs. As she turned the corner up the stairs, her pouting smile was replaced by a sterner visage and hardened eyes. In the privacy of the bathroom, she quickly pulled out her mobile - it was not secure but she had to act quickly.

"Rocky, I really miss you" she wrote in her SMS editor and sent the message to a number that was not in her address book.

Five miles away in a small corner office within South Block, Sqdn Leader Rakesh Rao picked up the message on his mobile phone. Katrina had broken cover, which meant that IB had finally caught up with her father. Which meant that Operation Fairy Tale was about to go live.

"Exposing the father" was part of the deal, this was the only way that Anderson would believe that this was for real. Katrina's father, a true patriot, allowed the IB to take him away as outside, the passing American ISKON devotee snapped some innocent shots of the temple on the corner and the ashen looking man being taken away.

Hans Christian Andersen - the fairy tale teller and Jim Anderson, the idea had been Katrina's as she and Rao had planned the move carefully. They had toyed with the idea of trying to get him in a honey trap, but Katrina had the brain wave, not just to get him to talk, but to turn him. This was a reverse play grander than Rao - on special detachment to RAW, had conceived of. He had to hand it to her, not only did she look like a hot bimbo as the perfect cover, she had the brains of a cunning analyst, a far sighted strategist and the nerves of steel to pull of the most dangerous of missions...

Anderson and his old jehadi comerades from the Afghan war across the border would pay for what they did to her school friend. Lt. Arun Verma - martyred along the LOC after Anderson betrayed their deployment, with only the shell of a broken carcass to return home after the jehadis had finished playing with him as he still lived. She had loved Arun as a brother, she had retrieved his body "on her little girlie holiday in the mountains" that somehow managed to go far from the beaten track when no one was looking in the discos of simla, now there had to be payback, Katrina would see to it...

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Postby Singha » 29 Nov 2004 22:35

excellent .. the junta is always more happy to see a beautiful AND "good" girl than the airy-headed disco animals prowlin the delhi watering holes.

Please explore this topic further. anderson shouldnt get off easy immunity or not.

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Postby daulat » 29 Nov 2004 23:27

Katrina was well known in the Hyatt Regency disco. How could she not be? She spent generously at the bar, and of course she usually stopped the traffic as she made her grand entrance. Tonight was no exception. She air kissed her friends and took up position, scanning quickly to see if her contact was in yet. No, she would have to pass the time.

"Hallo babee" a gruff uncouth voice next to her salivated

She looked him up and down with a scornful disdain but carefully logged the situation. No problem, usual Delhi night club Jat da puttar. She smiled sweetly and passed the time in inane conversation and carefully moved out of range whenever he tried to grope her.

Rao got there shortly afterwards, in between drinks and chat, they managed to have a dance and pass the messages between them. The new codes and a quick whisper about the ISKON devotee. He had been tracked to a house in GK-I, the elint surveillance indicated that a call had been made to Anderson's office. Contact over, Katrina kissed Rao on the cheek - "be careful" she whispered, for a moment her hard eyes melted, but quickly she regained composure. Spinning around, she whirled in a dance with her girlfriends, whilst Jat da puttar scowled at her from a distance.

Rao left quietly. Outside, a Jeep waited in the darkness, quickly whisking him away into the night towards Hindon air base. His part of the plan was a helicopter ride away across the plains to the North.

Checking for surveillance, Katrina air kissed her friends again and walked out towards the car park and her BMW. Out of the darkness, a gruff voice salivated again - "Me too kissy no sweetie?"

She tried to laugh him off in bimbo mode, realising soon that it was not a smart move as he lurched forward towards her.

"Go home" she spoke calmly in a voice that should have stopped a normal Asur. This one fancied his chances.

It was over in three seconds, another five passed as she debated whether to hurt him some more as he lay on the floor writhing. No, there were other things to do.

The BMW sped away as he struggled to his feet and vomited, the pain surging through his body. Katrina had to see the next act for herself.

In GK-I, she stopped at the corner beneath the gulmohar tree. Pete (Maharupananda to his friends), the ISKON man was out for his nightly walk. Near the old Lodhi tomb he made his dead letter drop whilst walking the dog. There he was, as usual. She watched as the two men came out of the shadows and approached Pete.

She watched as Pete was "mugged", wondering how Arun had felt when his patrol was ambushed. Pete would be a lot luckier. As the men fled and the little dog barked at the darkness, she pulled her car up and stepped out.

Even in his dazed confusion, Pete could only see the long bare legs going up to eternity from the dusty ground in which he spat out blood and spittle and coughed as the pain racked his body.

"Oh sweetie!" She cooed, "are you allright??"

Pete gulped, he thought Guatamala had been odd, but this was a really weird country...

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Postby Yerna » 29 Nov 2004 23:54

oooh laa laa... seems katrina has brought out the write in daulat.
Keep it up folks, good reading.

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Postby daulat » 30 Nov 2004 04:36

Jim Anderson sat in the Gymkhana club and sipped a cold beer. Atleast you could get them here he thought, unlike in Afganistan. His leg still had the scars of a Soviet shell where it still stung when the weather was cold. Gul Mohammed had saved him that day, dragging him for five days over the jagged hills of Paktika whilst he floated between life and death, not caring for either by the third day. Had it not been for Gul, he would not be enjoying his beer today. Damn fine man he thought to himself. If only these damn Pathans hadn't backed the wrong horse!

He didn't like India. Too Soviet and communist leaning, too pinko, too assertive now and a potential threat to US supremacy. These people had to be watched. He had no time for those in Washington who spoke of a new relationship and shared interests. Gul Mohammed had saved his life, that counted for something. So when he could, he passed him messages. Gul's boys were on the LOC, sometimes across. Sure, it may have been flavour of last month in Washington, but what did those A-holes know anyway? This was a real war, fought by real men. Those Washington pinkos would sell old glory to the communists at the drop of a hat!

Montgomery, the political officer came and sat down next to him. He spoke about hum drum things, until he mentioned what happened to Pete.

"The daughter you say?" Anderson's eyebrows rose

"Yes... odd don't you think?" Montgomery replied quietly.

"Maybe the old man was trying to get me a message?" Anderson thought intently.

The bearer brought another beer silently and unseen and unheard served the two gentlemen and receeded into the shadows.

"Anyway" Montgomery continued, "he need to cut back on this skull and dagger stuff, the old man's been made... these guys are our friends now, we need to move on..."

Anderson sneered into his beer. Captain Gul Mohammed, Frontier Rifles, Sitara-e-jurat, had saved his life. That was worth something. The message must have been very very important if the old man had sent his daughter to convey it. This would be his swan song... now that those ******** would be working him over... there would not be much time. Anderson would have to move fast, perhaps there was a way of helping his friends, denying his links with Sehgal and getting out of this Godforsaken commie loving land all in one go?

The next day, Pete's aches and pains were the only remains of the mugging and a pleasant memory of Katrina. He recognised her straight away, afterall, he had their house under surveillance. His cover was blown since he assumed that the muggers were sent on order, Delhi cops he guessed. As she helped him up and back home, she had slipped a note into his pocket. It didn't make immediate sense, but he knew that Anderson would be interested in it. Pity it wasn't her phone number... but hey, he had that already. Too bad, he'd have to head back to the US now.

In the sigint station, they had followed the trail from Pete to Montgomery to Anderson, the bearer had recorded some snatches of conversation too. Now, up in the hills, Rao waited with his signals team to spot the activity in the beautiful valley across the LOC. How long? What mode? What details? What code? They were getting close.

Gul Mohammed, Colonel, ISI arose from morning prayer and stepped outside in his shalwar kameez. The new recruits had been out running before prayer, now it was time to eat, and then weapons training. In a few weeks Insh'Allah, he would send them across the line. They didn't have the discipline of his regulars of old, but they were committed and they had spirit. Besides, it took a whole company of bania's to track one of his boys in the high hills. That was almost amusing.

In his office inside the US embassy, Montgomery picked up the phone to the State Department in Washington. "I have concerns" he said on the secure line, "not sure if Anderson understands that times have changed". There was a silence on the other end. Either way, this could be embarrassing. He suspended Anderson's secure comms authorities with some regret, he had been missing for a day now. This was not like him. Murthy in the Home Ministry, his official contact made no mention, which meant that there was no police or accident issue, Anderson had slipped away.

By the time Katrina reached Chandigarh, she had slipped into the garb of a normal Delhi college girl in salwar kurta and a bright dupatta and hidden her striking features behind a plain hair style and thick glasses. For now she had to be low visibility. It had to be this way, Anderson was moving quietly, without support - he was probably rogue now, especially after he got Pete's message, or rather her message. She also had to move without support, drew less attention. There was no telling if there was a legitimate channel open between the IB and Montgomery. Only Rao and his superior knew the plan. No one else. Set a thief to catch a thief she smiled at herself on the State bus as itlumbered along the highway behind an old Ambassador that Anderson had chosen as his vehicle to the hills. How long? What mode? What details? What code? They were getting close.

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Postby daulat » 30 Nov 2004 05:05

MT Singha wrote:excellent .. the junta is always more happy to see a beautiful AND "good" girl than the airy-headed disco animals prowlin the delhi watering holes.

Please explore this topic further. anderson shouldnt get off easy immunity or not.

sorry yaar, i just saw up in the thread what you wanted to do with the plotline... my apologies!

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Postby Rudra » 30 Nov 2004 06:44

carry on you are doing just fine.

looks like I need to put delicious things like Katrina on the table to bring out the writers ! :twisted:

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Postby Sunil » 30 Nov 2004 08:13


I hope my reworked post makes it clear why it has to be who it is and not who it could also be.


My inspiration was Jacob Abraham, I have been desperate to produce something that comes to that standard. Satish Warichoo is my attempt, I'll polish it up as the days go by.

and Boss.. this thread has 20,000 something views, I venture this has more view/post than any other thread since Jamie's Bharat Romance Forum.

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Postby daulat » 30 Nov 2004 17:37

It had taken Anderson some time to figure out the message and what to do with it. Once decided, he hit the road quickly. Maybe there was a way of pulling off a great coup and also get Montgomery off his back at the same time?

He would meet a contact up in the hills, and then cross the LOC over to Gul's camp. There he would do a deal with Gul, amnesty and relocation to Kansas in exchange for the big one - dead or alive. This way he could get out cleanly and still not be a renegade.

The contact met him in the tea stall outside Pahalgam. In the shadows out of view.

"You know the way?" Anderson asked him, not entirely trusting.

"Yes Sahib" the shifty, dirty looking man looked down "through the fence... where they don't watch"

Katrina glared at Rakesh with the intensity of burning flame "I am going with you and that's that!"

Rakesh finally gave in, "ok, ok" he sighed quietly.

Soon, clad in black and dark camoflague, they trekked silently along the mountain side, about 2kms behind Anderson and his guide.

At the fence, they found the gap - left there last week by the special detachment of the Engineers - for reasons not to be discussed, Rao had told them.

"We go across?" He looked at her

She glared at him as though he was an idiot, "shut up and walk"

On the other side, passing through chinar trees amidst the sound of rushing water, Katrina and Rakesh made quick progress to the rocky outcrop. From here they could see - with NVG's - Anderson make his way into Gul's camp. The guide walked back alone, eager to make it back in one piece. Havildar Maqbool Butt, JAKLI, wanted nothing more than to shed his filthy disguise and be back in his warm barracks right now.

Rao watched him pass unnoticed. Butt would not expect them this side of the line, hell he would not expect himself on this side of the line! Best not to scare him half to death!

Katrina listened to the wind in the chinars. She had found Arun in a place like this. Poor Arun, he was gone by then. Poor poor Arun - the reason he was here was because she had not returned his affections. It was his joining the army that made her think, for the first time.

It was soon afterwards that she had met Rakesh, and her life had taken a different turn to the Delhi party circuit she was already a part of. By the time she started operations, Arun had already been on active duty for a couple of years. It was on the trail of Anderson that she first came up to the hills. Finding the body was part of her mission, albeit a little off from the direct orders. Finding it to be Arun was more of a shock. She had not known it would be him - and it took her several moments to realise that it was him given his injuries. Her heart had hardened that moment, perhaps for ever.

"He's in" Rao spoke curtly, snapping Katrina back to reality

"Good" she spoke calmly, "Let's go after him"

"What?!" Rao gulped

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Postby daulat » 01 Dec 2004 01:18

Rao had hoped that perhaps they could eavesdrop on the conversation, get enough evidence to nail Anderson, and have him leave "to other assignments" in diplomatic language, but he worried about Katrina, her burning eyes spoke of other dangers.

Quietly, they crept up towards the camp. The sentries had been logged and their patrols noted, the two of them moved silently like gray ghosts in through the dense undergrowth closer to the little circle of tents. It was nerve wracking, beads of sweat sliding down Rao's nose.

A tap on his shoulder, Katrina signalled that she would move to the right, she pointed at his Uzi, indicating that he should be ready to cover her. He tried to protest but it was no use. Her lithe shape slid through the darkness around in a circle. Rao waited in the bush tensed like a spring, all the possible scenarios running through his mind.

It was the shouting inside the camp that made him more nervous now. In the distance, someone argued in English - he couldn't quite hear it, but he figured it would be Gul and Anderson. Where the hell was Katrina? He fingered his data console nervously. So much for all that training, his heart was beating very fast now.

Soon, the burly figures of Gul and Anderson stormed out of a tent and out towards the periphery of the camp. Damn!! Rao tried to look around but there was a lot of commotion in the camp now - he had to be careful. And where the hell was Katrina???? He had no choice now, he would have to follow them.

Gul was fuming, but this was Jim his old friend. What the hell did he think he was doing coming here like this?! And offering him this ridiculous deal? What was he thinking? Anderson continued to speak, over and over again, the same things. Gul wondered if the shrapnel had penetrated some other part of Jim's body?

From the new vantage point that Rao had struggled to get quickly into, he heard the noises in the camp behind. There was a lot of disturbance, clearly the Mujahideen were restless at the appearance of this American in their midst. Ahead he saw Anderson in a heated exchange and then his heart fell... Katrina walked into the clearing in front of them in open view.

There was only a split second to decide what came next. Each man took his own action. Anderson looked round to see Katrina and her name escaped his lips. Gul reacted instinctively and hearing the name confirmed his suspicions of a trap and in a fluid movement unsheathed his knife and plunged it into Anderson's belly. Rao pressed the send button on his data console and dropped it, quickly pointing the Uzi forward and firing a burst towards the dark shape of Anderson and Gul Mohammed as he rose to his feet and ran forward into God alone knew what...

12kms away beyond the LOC. Captain Chakraborty of the 214th Field Artillery Regiment received the go signal on his monitor. Moments before, GPS coordinates from a remote data console had flashed up on the screen which he had fed to his battery. He barked the order - Lance Naik Shinde pressed the button and the huge Bofors' thundered into fearsome life.

Over the steep mountainside great arcs of Dragon's breath streamed through the night sky, descending on a little circle of tents a few seconds later and erupting in ferocious balls of fire and death. Those that had not perished immediately lay dying in the burnt bracken. For them, the jehad was over.

Gul Mohammed was on his knees, blood pouring from an open gash on the arm where the Uzi bullet had pierced him. Anderson had taken the majority of the burst, anyway - Gul's knife had already ensured his death, it was only a question of how long.

Katrina stood in front of him, her hair undone now, blowing in the mountain wind, hands on her hips, silhouetted against the red orange glow of the burning camp...

"What... what was... your name?" Gul Mohammed could only think of Jim's last words in his shock

Katrina prised his knife from his hands as he knelt dumbfounded and looked him in the eyes. A cool, soft hand ran through his hair and leant his head back, soothing, comforting...

"You can call me Durga..."

Rao recoiled instinctively as a fountain of blood fell on his boots from Gul Mohammed's jugular. Composing himself, he shouted to her

"Come on!! Lets go!"

Katrina threw the knife on Anderson lying across the clearing and spun around. There were 3 kms to the fence. In a few minutes, helicopters would arrive looking for them.

"Race you, fatso!" she giggled at Rakesh and ran surefooted through the bushes and up the mountain path back towards the LOC. Rao quickly picked up his data console and backpack and ran behind her cursing silently.

12 kms away, Capt Chakraborty waited three minutes and sent another salvo across, just to be safe. On a strange mountainside strewn with fire and death, Jim Anderson cursed those pinkos in Washington and their treachery and settled into a dream of picket fences and wheat fields and old Glory fluttering in the breeze...

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Postby Sharma » 01 Dec 2004 01:37

Refreshing twist here...but beware of Tom Clancy and Bollywood instincts.........
You mentioned border fence is 3 kms away from the terrorist camp. It means LoC must be around 2 km from the camp. Militant training camp can not be so close to the border for the reasons you must well aware of.

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Postby Kartik » 01 Dec 2004 01:49

Daulat, you mention in the last para that Jim Anderson is alive and dreaming about the good times, but earlier itself, he had been killed by Gul and the Uzi fire. so where does he come back to dream ?

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Postby daulat » 01 Dec 2004 01:54

Kartik wrote:Daulat, you mention in the last para that Jim Anderson is alive and dreaming about the good times, but earlier itself, he had been killed by Gul and the Uzi fire. so where does he come back to dream ?

kartik-ji read carefully! :) anders-son is on his way to valhalla to join his nordic forefathers, this dream takes him to odin's table

and sharma-ji - what to do, desiloge are all bollywood ishtyle onlee, accuracy is secondary ;)

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Postby JTull » 02 Dec 2004 19:53

Daulat, the whole premise of using artillery fire to protect the two operatives goes against our position of such actions by Paki army to support insurgents. It's not a wrong approach, but I guess it would be even more amusing if the irony was explicitly stated in the last passage.

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Postby bhavani » 02 Dec 2004 20:18

I have been following the thread from day one. I am also posting the Blood on the Sand Scenario,, but i am not getting enough time to write much and detroit is getting too cold.

The whole Katrina thing looks a like scene from a tom clancy novel or a james bond movie. If the BMW is replaced by an Aston Martin, Instead of the two operatives walking on ground, drop them using a plane, instead using Artillery use a ship to launch to a missile. What do you have here a "new bond movie".

BTW anybody for a BR meet in Detroit or cincinnati or new york. Infact newyork is a bit far for me.

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Postby ramana » 03 Dec 2004 09:21

MTS, Sunil and other authors. Please update this atleast one episode a week. Thanks, ramana

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Postby daulat » 03 Dec 2004 13:19

American Mountaineer Missing in J&K

NSN Reports (Jammu): Sources here confirmed today that Jim Anderson, an American citizen and mountaineering expert has gone missing whilst trekking in the Pir Panjal range. A staffer of the US Embassy in Delhi, Anderson was known to have loved the Himalayas. Police and Army have given up the search for him, believing him to be dead.

John Montgomery, an official in the US Embassy in Delhi said "Jim was well loved by his friends and colleagues, he will be greatly missed". Police officials in Jammu said that there had been flash flooding in the area, it is common that climbers are sometimes swept away in torrents, sometimes across the border.

Mr Anderson leaves an estranged wife in Topeka, Kansas and a son who is serving with the US Army in Iraq.

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Postby daulat » 03 Dec 2004 17:50

Pak helicopter intrudes into Indian airspace in mountains

NSN Reports (Jammu): Sources close to the army reported that helicopters of the Pak Army were recently caught flying close to the border area in a remote mountainous region, and in one instance crossing over the LOC.

The incident was reported to have happened at night and explosions were also reported from the area. There was no confirmation if the helicopters were dropping bombs or otherwise attacking Indian troops who hold positions along the LOC in the region.

An army source confirmed that some small arms fire was encountered from across the LOC, which was given a befitting reply from a nearby Indian Army artillery unit. A Pak army camp a short way across the LOC, often suspected of housing militants was seen to be burning from a distance according to locals. There were no casualties on the Indian side, although a section of the LOC fence is believed to have been damaged.

The incident is believed to have occured close to the area where American Mountaineer Jim Anderson recently went missing whilst out on a trek. Spokesmen from the US Embassy have confirmed that his body has not as yet been located and rumours that an American body had been recovered on the Pakistani side of the border have been denied by the Pakistani authorities and the US Embassy.

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Postby vijh » 03 Dec 2004 23:39

Detroit, certainly.

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Postby Singha » 04 Dec 2004 00:53

the small militant camp mentioned are usually the launch points for terrorist lashkars sometimes. they are usually brought by 4x4 to nearest roadhead at night, then expected to walk across LOC. for some reason if they cannot pass that first night, they could pitch a small camp in a forest and wait for the next night.

the camp should have been under the trees though, never in the open because indian UAVs and recon a/c can easily spot such camps from our side.

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Postby Cybaru » 04 Dec 2004 01:00


When do we get more ?

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Postby Singha » 05 Dec 2004 16:47

Last edited by Singha on 06 Dec 2004 17:28, edited 1 time in total.

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Postby daulat » 06 Dec 2004 16:17

The droning incessant noise of the Mi-17 chopper made conversation difficult. Particularly since Rao spent most of the time glowering at Katrina in something approaching anger. She looked up sheepishly, nursing a bandage on her arm from where blood seeped through.

The run back up the mountain across the LOC to the fence was not the problem, despite the thin air and the steep climb. It was the three jehadis and their two SSG mentors who had survived the shelling and then gave chase which was the problem. The back up squad drawn from Rao’s section would not be able to join in till the LOC and till then, there was plenty of distance to cover.

At another rocky outcrop, which offered some tactical advantage, they had stopped a while and engaged their pursuers with their Uzi’s. This took care of two jehadis, whilst the third had rapidly questioned his commitment to the cause. The two SSG men had pursued, relying on the superior firepower of their AK47’s. It was a fox and rabbit chase until the LOC, where the ambush from Rao’s section took care of the SSG men. By then the UH-1 helicopters had joined in, but it was too late.

A quick descent down to the helipad, lift back to the base station in a Cheetah, some medical attention and then the Mi-17 ride back towards Hindon. There had not been any time to discuss what had just happened.

“What the hell were you thinking?!?” Rao thundered

“I had to do it!” she protested, less sure of her self now


“When I realised that it was Gul Mohammed himself…” she paused, fighting back tears, it would not do to be seen to be weak, “I had to avenge Arun”

“I should put you on a charge!” Rao fumed

“er… you can’t!” she half smiled, knowing that she was not under any jurisdiction as such, certainly not a military one. The radio intercepts around the time of finding Arun told her that Gul Mohammed was involved, and he certainly knew enough about Arun’s specific injuries to know that he had been there. When she got her chance, she had to take it. She had no plan as such, perhaps take him out with the Uzi and then hope for the best. Rakesh was right, this was dumb. Very dumb. She sipped the strong, hot, sweet tea and dozed off. It had been one hell of a week.

Rakesh helped her out of the Mi-17 as she stepped gingerly out. It was beginning to hurt now as the morphine wore off. Apart from the graze on her arm, she had also twisted her ankle and had to be dragged across the LOC by Rao as Bhutia, Ramachandran and Kumar had stepped out of the shadows and taken down the SSG men.

Commander Ahluwalia looked at them hobbling forward on the tarmac and mulled over Rao’s previous radio update on the mission till they arrived. Rao, also aching and sore, did not salute since none of them were wearing uniform.

“What were you going to do with Andersen?” he asked quietly

Rao looked up at his superior officer and paused as Katrina stood herself up straight despite the pain. She would not show weakness now.

“He was already as good as dead…” Rao spoke quietly, remembering how Gul Mohammed had plunged his knife into him, before the Uzi rounds slammed into his legs and back and threw him forward. He had heard him moaning on the ground as they ran from the clearing, there would not have been much more time for him.

“And you young lady?” Ahluwalia looked sternly at the darkening purple stain of blood splatter against her t-shirt and combat trousers

“Gul Mohammed sir…” she struggled to compose a coherent sentence for once

“Go and get some rest. Rao stay here”


“Did she have a choice?”

Rao thought carefully. In a few more seconds, Gul Mohammed would have composed himself after the initial shock of being hit and fought back. There was a short window of opportunity, she had taken it.

“No sir, self defence”

“Pity, would have liked to have interrogated him” he paused, “get her to hospital before she faints, and I know – getting Gul Mohammed was not the mission!”

“Yes sir”, both of them seeing the signs of fatigue on Katrina’s face brought on by blood loss and shock.

Katrina allowed the nurse to help her into the crisp white sheets of the Air Force hospital. The Hyatt Regency disco would have to wait a few more weeks before she ‘returned from her shopping trip to Paris’. Damn this graze she thought, no more wearing sleeveless tops for a while!

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Postby daulat » 06 Dec 2004 18:22

Local boy shaheed in Kashmir

Multan district (Waqt-e-Jihad): The village of Charasadda welcomed home the body of its illustrious son Mustafa Jamshed, also known as Abu Khanjar who attained martyrdom in the holy quest for Kashmir. Mustafa, of the Lashkar-e-Fidayeen became shaheed when 100 Hindu oppressor soldiers attacked his camp in Azad Kashmir together with many American devils. Fighting bravely and killing many of the infidel, Abu Khanjar finally left for the blessed 72 after doing his duty to God.

The Army of the apostate Musharraf is denying that the Lashkar was involved in any incident and also that no Americans had been in the area, although they do confirm that Indian agents had tried to infiltrate the area and were given a befitting reply by the combination of troops and helicopters in the area.

The hindus have 700,000 troops in Occupied Kashmir who visit brutal punishment upon the innocent people of Kashmir who long to be united with their brothers in Pakistan.

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Postby Sunil » 07 Dec 2004 01:51

Hi Daulat,

Boss - that entire scenario with the cross border raid is not taking. I read it twice, and it simply feels unreal and out of place with the rest of what we see in the thread.

Can you do something about this? is there a way to make it more real?

Firstly, it stretches the imagination to think of easy ways to cross the fencing. Why not try something further to the north of the current fencing? Say in Kupwara? perhaps Gurez sector? I think the LOC has yet to be fenced there and there may be opening leading to the Pakistani brigade guarding the mouth of the Burzil La or even west of that - in the Neelam valley?

Secondly GPS guided arty in a place where there isn't a good GIS is very tom clancyish. Its like all those claims about the Dallas's angle of climb in "Hunt for Red October" (I seriously doubt the 688's reactor can handle that incline and still be safe to work with).

Thirdly, Katrina is one of Delhi's khoobsurat log. The thought of one of those "Dil-Chahta-Hai" princesses running in high altitude environment without serious acclimation troubles is simply unbelievable. Not even Lakshya, the ultimate "dil-chahta-hai" generation fantasy flick has that.

Ps. I can't stand bollywood or Tom Clancy so please do something for my sake. The only movie that Bollywood ever made that I really liked was Ab Tak Chappan. I was hoping to reproduce the scripting success of that movie in this thread and frankly that is just not the feeling I get with the "Katrina in Kashmir" episode. That is draining the entire spirit of the thread.

AFAIK double agents aren't allowed back into society - there is no place for them. There is no such thing as a double agent patriot. They are all hung out in the cold. There is no life for them and what little they have ends up in hell. Take as an example the bio of *any* of the Ikhwanis. Most of these guys were police officers who defected to the Pakistani side in the early days of the militancy. Then they came back and killed several of their former Pakistani allies and yet they never earned the trust of their Indian security controllers. The Ikwaan is simply an example, there are countless stories like this of shallow penetration agents who were sent and then never taken back and the Katrina story of a "double agent" simply doesn't fit that sense. Just because Katrina is an IAS officer's daughter doesn't mean s*it for the counter-intelligence community and there will be no going back for her. I feel this needs to be brought out - those who collaborate with the enemy however fuzzy and cute the enemy or they themselves may be - do so at the peril of their lives.
Last edited by Sunil on 07 Dec 2004 04:06, edited 5 times in total.

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Postby JCage » 07 Dec 2004 02:36

Yeah, pass it off as a dream sequence or something. "Then she woke up".LOL.

I concur with Sunil, the Katrina sequence simply doesnt take...sorry, though know the effort that goes in.

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Postby Sunil » 07 Dec 2004 04:01


Its not that I don't like the idea of a double cross, it is just that I am a bigger fan of Le Carre than I am of Clancy. "The Spy Who Came In From The Cold" is my favorite Le Carre novel.

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