Spy Story-2
Re: Spy Story
Post removed. Added my notes in the appropriate thread else where..
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
Vijaya Baskar stared on the computer screen, with a heavy heart. He was not feeling himself after the brief incident near the supermarket. He hadn't told anyone about it, but the effect that had on his psyche was profound. He was not an aggressive, or daring man. A simple threat was good enough for him to withdraw from the little amorous excursion he had indulged in recently.
He had decided not to see or communicate with Meiji anymore. He hadn't replied to her message earlier, but he didn't get the heart to let her know that their friendship is off. He didn't want to hurt her.
Now it seems that exactly is what he did. Meiji had sent him a touching an e-mail, detailing how important was their friendship for her. He was the only friend she got in the strange place. He had an understanding mind that even her husband lacked. She cherished the time they had spent together. She promised that she didn't want to impose or interfere with his life and family.
She had apologized for panicking at the restaurant. Baskar didn't find any need for that. Any woman would have panicked if a madman came rushing among them. She wondered if Baskar was angry with her for behaving such awkward fashion. He pleaded him not to take that seriously, and not to hate her for that.
That use of the word 'hate' sent waves of guilt through Baskar's heart. The poor girl is under the impression that Baskar is angry with her because of her awkward behavior at the restaurant. Nothing could be far from the truth. He thought Meiji handled that really well. The only reason he want to break up from their friendship was the threat he received from the man at the supermarket.
He still hadn't considered the friendship he had with Meiji to be something wrong. Chitra, or as a matter of fact, her family, had no business in this. It is not that he is going to divorce her or something like that. What is wrong if he keeps a friendship with someone, who happened to be a woman? What business does that good for nothing brother-in-law of his had to threaten him?
But right, or wrong, he did not want any danger. He can no way fight that guy. Baskar was never a fighter anyway. Not even a sportsman. He was good at studies, and became a scientist of some achievement to his name. But he can't fight someone. Not even a school kid.
But what did poor Meiji fault? She had found some solace in him. She trusted him, and their friendship. Now, he had to betray the poor girl and run away with his tail between the legs.
That was not manly to do. That would be accepting defeat to Vaithi, the quintessential brother-in-law.
But it is not Vaithi who is going to break his legs. It was that man who rode away on the motorcycle. He seemed serious, and pretty capable of doing what he said.
The dilemma caused Baskar's rest of the day being ruined. He could not concentrate on work. He could not go home early either. Seeing Chitra's face will remind him about her brother and the evil plans. He felt terrible.
He was still under the same thoughts when he reached home. He had forgotten to pick up the medicated oil for Chitra's hair. That initiated another bout of You don't care anymore routines. Baskar ignored that.
After dinner, when he opened the computer, there was another e-mail from Meiji, pleading him to at least respond, asking what she did wrong.
Baskar started making a reply. It took him more than an hour of draft, edit, erase and re-draft to get it somewhat right.
And it ended up undoing much of his resolutions.
He had decided not to see or communicate with Meiji anymore. He hadn't replied to her message earlier, but he didn't get the heart to let her know that their friendship is off. He didn't want to hurt her.
Now it seems that exactly is what he did. Meiji had sent him a touching an e-mail, detailing how important was their friendship for her. He was the only friend she got in the strange place. He had an understanding mind that even her husband lacked. She cherished the time they had spent together. She promised that she didn't want to impose or interfere with his life and family.
She had apologized for panicking at the restaurant. Baskar didn't find any need for that. Any woman would have panicked if a madman came rushing among them. She wondered if Baskar was angry with her for behaving such awkward fashion. He pleaded him not to take that seriously, and not to hate her for that.
That use of the word 'hate' sent waves of guilt through Baskar's heart. The poor girl is under the impression that Baskar is angry with her because of her awkward behavior at the restaurant. Nothing could be far from the truth. He thought Meiji handled that really well. The only reason he want to break up from their friendship was the threat he received from the man at the supermarket.
He still hadn't considered the friendship he had with Meiji to be something wrong. Chitra, or as a matter of fact, her family, had no business in this. It is not that he is going to divorce her or something like that. What is wrong if he keeps a friendship with someone, who happened to be a woman? What business does that good for nothing brother-in-law of his had to threaten him?
But right, or wrong, he did not want any danger. He can no way fight that guy. Baskar was never a fighter anyway. Not even a sportsman. He was good at studies, and became a scientist of some achievement to his name. But he can't fight someone. Not even a school kid.
But what did poor Meiji fault? She had found some solace in him. She trusted him, and their friendship. Now, he had to betray the poor girl and run away with his tail between the legs.
That was not manly to do. That would be accepting defeat to Vaithi, the quintessential brother-in-law.
But it is not Vaithi who is going to break his legs. It was that man who rode away on the motorcycle. He seemed serious, and pretty capable of doing what he said.
The dilemma caused Baskar's rest of the day being ruined. He could not concentrate on work. He could not go home early either. Seeing Chitra's face will remind him about her brother and the evil plans. He felt terrible.
He was still under the same thoughts when he reached home. He had forgotten to pick up the medicated oil for Chitra's hair. That initiated another bout of You don't care anymore routines. Baskar ignored that.
After dinner, when he opened the computer, there was another e-mail from Meiji, pleading him to at least respond, asking what she did wrong.
Baskar started making a reply. It took him more than an hour of draft, edit, erase and re-draft to get it somewhat right.
And it ended up undoing much of his resolutions.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
Meiji sat on the sofa, flipping through the channels on the TV, but her mind was not really in it. The apartment was well furnished, with a five piece sofa took the centre of the hall.An entertainment centre stood close to the wall, and an 8 seat dining table stood at the other end. Two of the bedrooms faced the water, and one was inside.
To the side, beyond the balcony and fourteen floor below, the vast body of water shimmered in the sun, casting a hue of brownish blue. The ships moored at the harbour on the other shore seemed moving because of haze rising from the water. The mouth of the lake, where it joined the sea was blended into a curtain of steel grey, combined with the backdrop of the ocean and the haze. The breeze was making enough turbulence in the balcony, that the glass shutters rattled against the rails. The walkway in front of the mall and apartment complex was not crowded yet. The tourist boats waiting for their riders waited patiently at the piers, basking in the bright sunshine.
Meiji was also waiting for someone.
It took her some time to arrange the inside bedroom to a useable state. Using the waterfront bedrooms was out of question, as it had a lot of stuff in it. Even the inner bedroom had a lot of sundry thingsstacked on the bed. All those had to be moved to one of the other bedrooms. The mattress was full of dust, which had to be vacuumed and the sheets changed. Anything that didn't look like belonging there had to be moved to one of the bedrooms and locked up.
Even the hall had thing lying around that should be kept out of sight.
She was a bit tired after that. She took another shower, and changed into clothes more appropriate for the occasion. She had originally considered a kaftan, but decided against it, because her quarry might find it too provocative. She selected the red tights and top. Baskar had mentioned that it looked good on her. She still remember his eyes moving around her when he told her that. He was always partial to strong colours.
Meiji was not too sure if he will show up. She had used all the seductive charms she could, asking him to meet at least once, and explain why he finds their friendship is to be broken. If he shows up, she was sure of luring him deeper into her trap.
But he should first show up for that.
She had this lingering fear that the intrusion to their previous meeting was from their adversaries. Maybe they warned Baskar. That may be the reason why Baskar is trying to avoid her.
But Adung seemed to be confident that it is not serious like she fears. The IB would never do that stunt, according to him. Trying to lure Baskar back was his idea as well, because that would give some confirmation on this little problem. That aspect made her a bit more tense.
What if they are already uncovered? What if they were watching her? Even the thought of that gave her cold sweat.
Meiji looked down into the bosom of the top. She had taken some time adjusting the hooks and straps of the bra to get the right profile. She felt the sweat beading up inside, which gave her a bit of concern. She rose, walked to the mirror and carefully wiped the perspiration away, taking care not to disturb the carefully sculpted cleavage. Coming back to the sofa, she looked at the clock again.
Why is this Baskar being late?
She just wanted to finish the work and be done with that. There was no physical attraction, or sense of pleasure. It was all just a job. Like acting in a movie, or modeling for a dress.
Then why the tension? She asked herself. It was not just the issue of whether they are uncovered or not. While that is there very much, and she dreaded the result, she was also reminded herself that she is into an unknown territory here.
Her previous assignments were all with men who knew the drill. In fact she didn't have to do pretty much anything to get them around. All she needed to do was not to run away. They did the rest. And normally did a good job at that, so she was kind of happy too.
But dealing with someone like Baskar was new to her.
She rehearsed her moves in mind once again. Not that it mattered. Things never went as per script in life. She had learned to take things in the flow.
The intercom phone rang. The LCD screen showed the image of Baskar, while the security asked her if it was OK to send the man up.
“Yes, send him up please” She said.
To the side, beyond the balcony and fourteen floor below, the vast body of water shimmered in the sun, casting a hue of brownish blue. The ships moored at the harbour on the other shore seemed moving because of haze rising from the water. The mouth of the lake, where it joined the sea was blended into a curtain of steel grey, combined with the backdrop of the ocean and the haze. The breeze was making enough turbulence in the balcony, that the glass shutters rattled against the rails. The walkway in front of the mall and apartment complex was not crowded yet. The tourist boats waiting for their riders waited patiently at the piers, basking in the bright sunshine.
Meiji was also waiting for someone.
It took her some time to arrange the inside bedroom to a useable state. Using the waterfront bedrooms was out of question, as it had a lot of stuff in it. Even the inner bedroom had a lot of sundry thingsstacked on the bed. All those had to be moved to one of the other bedrooms. The mattress was full of dust, which had to be vacuumed and the sheets changed. Anything that didn't look like belonging there had to be moved to one of the bedrooms and locked up.
Even the hall had thing lying around that should be kept out of sight.
She was a bit tired after that. She took another shower, and changed into clothes more appropriate for the occasion. She had originally considered a kaftan, but decided against it, because her quarry might find it too provocative. She selected the red tights and top. Baskar had mentioned that it looked good on her. She still remember his eyes moving around her when he told her that. He was always partial to strong colours.
Meiji was not too sure if he will show up. She had used all the seductive charms she could, asking him to meet at least once, and explain why he finds their friendship is to be broken. If he shows up, she was sure of luring him deeper into her trap.
But he should first show up for that.
She had this lingering fear that the intrusion to their previous meeting was from their adversaries. Maybe they warned Baskar. That may be the reason why Baskar is trying to avoid her.
But Adung seemed to be confident that it is not serious like she fears. The IB would never do that stunt, according to him. Trying to lure Baskar back was his idea as well, because that would give some confirmation on this little problem. That aspect made her a bit more tense.
What if they are already uncovered? What if they were watching her? Even the thought of that gave her cold sweat.
Meiji looked down into the bosom of the top. She had taken some time adjusting the hooks and straps of the bra to get the right profile. She felt the sweat beading up inside, which gave her a bit of concern. She rose, walked to the mirror and carefully wiped the perspiration away, taking care not to disturb the carefully sculpted cleavage. Coming back to the sofa, she looked at the clock again.
Why is this Baskar being late?
She just wanted to finish the work and be done with that. There was no physical attraction, or sense of pleasure. It was all just a job. Like acting in a movie, or modeling for a dress.
Then why the tension? She asked herself. It was not just the issue of whether they are uncovered or not. While that is there very much, and she dreaded the result, she was also reminded herself that she is into an unknown territory here.
Her previous assignments were all with men who knew the drill. In fact she didn't have to do pretty much anything to get them around. All she needed to do was not to run away. They did the rest. And normally did a good job at that, so she was kind of happy too.
But dealing with someone like Baskar was new to her.
She rehearsed her moves in mind once again. Not that it mattered. Things never went as per script in life. She had learned to take things in the flow.
The intercom phone rang. The LCD screen showed the image of Baskar, while the security asked her if it was OK to send the man up.
“Yes, send him up please” She said.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
Trying to calm her nerves, Meiji slowly strolled around the room. That always helped her. She knew it would take a bit of time for someone to ride the lift up to the 14th floor. When the door bell finally rang, she waited ten to twenty seconds before walking towards the door to open it. She didn't want to seem to be impatient.
Baskar stepped in. Meiji took a look around him, first to see if he was followed. Then she made a cursory glance around him to see if he was wired, or his demeanor shows anything amiss. Then she took his hand and guided him to the sofa. She noticed that he had treated himself to some body spray or deodorant. She didn't like the fragrance. Better than body odour, she thought. Did he anticipate her move?
She sat on the same sofa, but leaving a respectable distance between them. She observed with pleasure that Baskar had noticed her attire.
“The traffic is horrible, even after eleven o' clock in the morning”. Baskar began a bit awkwardly.
“I thought you were not coming” Meiji said, adding a bit of nonchalance to the voice. She was an expert manipulator of voice emotions.
“Even I doubted that myself”, admitted Baskar.
“Then, did the doubts go away now?” It has a bit of teasing tinge in the voice.
“Not really”. Baskar took a look around the room, before bringing his gaze back to Meiji. His glance momentarily went to the exhibits that Meiji had prepared, but went back to linger on her face again.
“Then why did you come after all?” A deep hurt rang in the voice.
“I owe you at least that” Baskar sighed.
Each sat there silently, deep in thoughts.
“What a fool I am!” Exclaimed Meiji, suddenly remembering that she was the host here. “Let me bring something to drink for you. What would you have?”
“I thought no one lived here in this flat. What could you get?”
“I brought some juice and soda when I came” Meiji clarified.
“I will have juice please.”
Meiji went and brought two glassed of Apple Juice in a tray. She placed the tray on the teapoy and resumed her seat. She put one leg on the other, showing Baskar the finely toned thighs struggling with the tights. She saw with satisfaction that Baskar noticed.
Baskar sipped the juice. It didn't taste like the apple juices available locally. It was a tad sweeter and t artier.
“This juice is good. Which brand is it?” Asked Baskar.
“It is from Hong Kong. Adung brought it on his last visit.” Meiji replied.
“How is Adung? How is his business doing”? Courtesy demanded Baskar had to ask.
“Adung is fine. He is almost into closing a good contract”. And I am the one who does the dirty work for that, Meiji told herself.
“Tell me, Meiji, is Adung perfectly fine with us meeting like this?” Baskar had to bring his problems into the discussion somehow.
“Oh, Adung is an understanding gentleman. He doesn't mind”. Meiji said earnestly.
“I mean, isn't he afraid that the friendship might turn into something else?”. Baskar asked as he took another draw on the juice. Tastes very good, he thought.
“Might turn to what?” Meiji laughed out loud. Baskar couldn't help staring at her.
“Nothing.” Baskar hit a sudden retreat. He didn't have the courage to go further. Meiji took a bit of time to compose herself from the laughter. She felt it a bit overdone.
“You know, my wife is of the worst kind in that regard. She doesn't like me even talking to women” Baskar said.
“Why is that? What is wrong with talking with women?” Meiji feinted a bit of surprise.
“She thinks I will end up sleeping with them.”
“You ARE with another woman right now” Meiji teased him.
“She would kill me if she finds out”.
“Is that the reason you wanted to break up with me” Meiji took the opening that Baskar gave her.
“Actually it was her brother who said he will kill me” Basker had planned to tell her all.
“Her brother? Did he threaten you to kill you?” Meiji was really surprised.
“Not him directly. A friend of his did”. Even the memory of the incident made Baskar a bit uncomfortable.
“A friend? What has he to do anything with you?”
“That is what I too am wondering. He came to me and threatened to break my legs if I see you again!” Basked blurted out.
“And you just agreed and went home?” Meiji raised an eyebrow in mock anger. Baskar felt she looked extremely beautiful when she did that.
“Well, I made a strategic retreat” Baskar found an appropriate cliché.
“How did he figure that you are meeting me?” The spy in Meiji took the better of her.
“He saw us in the floating restaurant down there” Baskar pointed in the general direction of the water.
“But we went there separately” Meiji insisted.
“I don't know how he found out.” Basker held back something he knew. That was the fact that the men who rushed in into the restaurant were his spies. He didn't want Meiji to be worried too much.
“Are you afraid that he might deliver on his threat?”
“If I were, would I be here right now” Baskar boasted.
“I like that. I like brave men” Meiji said.
“I like women who like brave men” Baskar felt happy about the wordplay.
Meiji laughed again. She noticed with pleasure that Baskar's eyes are not leaving her bosom now.
“Thanks for agreeing that you like me” Meiji purred, as she threw her head back on the backrest of the sofa and closed her eyes.
“I always liked you Meiji”. Baskar said, as he was enjoying the grand demonstration of Meiji's belly in front of him.
“Still, you decided not to see me anymore” Meiji suddenly sat straight, noticing with pleasure what Baskar was doing.
“Well, I may not be meeting you as often as you might want, Meiji” Baskar sat a bit straight, and emptied the juice glass.
“Why, scared of your brother-in-law?” Meiji cocked her head to one side.
“No. Not at all.” Basker quickly ventured.
Meiji knew he was lying.
It was of tremendous relief to Meiji that it was his brother-in-law whom Baskar was afraid of. Unless he was saying a big lie, that meant her fears was unfounded. Their cover is still intact.
But in that case, this man should not be allowed to escape. He needs to be pulled in further. He is a valuable asset for their operations.
She wondered how long does the spiked juice took to work. He looked into Baskar's eyes. The iris was beginning to expand a bit.
Time to move further, she thought.
Baskar stepped in. Meiji took a look around him, first to see if he was followed. Then she made a cursory glance around him to see if he was wired, or his demeanor shows anything amiss. Then she took his hand and guided him to the sofa. She noticed that he had treated himself to some body spray or deodorant. She didn't like the fragrance. Better than body odour, she thought. Did he anticipate her move?
She sat on the same sofa, but leaving a respectable distance between them. She observed with pleasure that Baskar had noticed her attire.
“The traffic is horrible, even after eleven o' clock in the morning”. Baskar began a bit awkwardly.
“I thought you were not coming” Meiji said, adding a bit of nonchalance to the voice. She was an expert manipulator of voice emotions.
“Even I doubted that myself”, admitted Baskar.
“Then, did the doubts go away now?” It has a bit of teasing tinge in the voice.
“Not really”. Baskar took a look around the room, before bringing his gaze back to Meiji. His glance momentarily went to the exhibits that Meiji had prepared, but went back to linger on her face again.
“Then why did you come after all?” A deep hurt rang in the voice.
“I owe you at least that” Baskar sighed.
Each sat there silently, deep in thoughts.
“What a fool I am!” Exclaimed Meiji, suddenly remembering that she was the host here. “Let me bring something to drink for you. What would you have?”
“I thought no one lived here in this flat. What could you get?”
“I brought some juice and soda when I came” Meiji clarified.
“I will have juice please.”
Meiji went and brought two glassed of Apple Juice in a tray. She placed the tray on the teapoy and resumed her seat. She put one leg on the other, showing Baskar the finely toned thighs struggling with the tights. She saw with satisfaction that Baskar noticed.
Baskar sipped the juice. It didn't taste like the apple juices available locally. It was a tad sweeter and t artier.
“This juice is good. Which brand is it?” Asked Baskar.
“It is from Hong Kong. Adung brought it on his last visit.” Meiji replied.
“How is Adung? How is his business doing”? Courtesy demanded Baskar had to ask.
“Adung is fine. He is almost into closing a good contract”. And I am the one who does the dirty work for that, Meiji told herself.
“Tell me, Meiji, is Adung perfectly fine with us meeting like this?” Baskar had to bring his problems into the discussion somehow.
“Oh, Adung is an understanding gentleman. He doesn't mind”. Meiji said earnestly.
“I mean, isn't he afraid that the friendship might turn into something else?”. Baskar asked as he took another draw on the juice. Tastes very good, he thought.
“Might turn to what?” Meiji laughed out loud. Baskar couldn't help staring at her.
“Nothing.” Baskar hit a sudden retreat. He didn't have the courage to go further. Meiji took a bit of time to compose herself from the laughter. She felt it a bit overdone.
“You know, my wife is of the worst kind in that regard. She doesn't like me even talking to women” Baskar said.
“Why is that? What is wrong with talking with women?” Meiji feinted a bit of surprise.
“She thinks I will end up sleeping with them.”
“You ARE with another woman right now” Meiji teased him.
“She would kill me if she finds out”.
“Is that the reason you wanted to break up with me” Meiji took the opening that Baskar gave her.
“Actually it was her brother who said he will kill me” Basker had planned to tell her all.
“Her brother? Did he threaten you to kill you?” Meiji was really surprised.
“Not him directly. A friend of his did”. Even the memory of the incident made Baskar a bit uncomfortable.
“A friend? What has he to do anything with you?”
“That is what I too am wondering. He came to me and threatened to break my legs if I see you again!” Basked blurted out.
“And you just agreed and went home?” Meiji raised an eyebrow in mock anger. Baskar felt she looked extremely beautiful when she did that.
“Well, I made a strategic retreat” Baskar found an appropriate cliché.
“How did he figure that you are meeting me?” The spy in Meiji took the better of her.
“He saw us in the floating restaurant down there” Baskar pointed in the general direction of the water.
“But we went there separately” Meiji insisted.
“I don't know how he found out.” Basker held back something he knew. That was the fact that the men who rushed in into the restaurant were his spies. He didn't want Meiji to be worried too much.
“Are you afraid that he might deliver on his threat?”
“If I were, would I be here right now” Baskar boasted.
“I like that. I like brave men” Meiji said.
“I like women who like brave men” Baskar felt happy about the wordplay.
Meiji laughed again. She noticed with pleasure that Baskar's eyes are not leaving her bosom now.
“Thanks for agreeing that you like me” Meiji purred, as she threw her head back on the backrest of the sofa and closed her eyes.
“I always liked you Meiji”. Baskar said, as he was enjoying the grand demonstration of Meiji's belly in front of him.
“Still, you decided not to see me anymore” Meiji suddenly sat straight, noticing with pleasure what Baskar was doing.
“Well, I may not be meeting you as often as you might want, Meiji” Baskar sat a bit straight, and emptied the juice glass.
“Why, scared of your brother-in-law?” Meiji cocked her head to one side.
“No. Not at all.” Basker quickly ventured.
Meiji knew he was lying.
It was of tremendous relief to Meiji that it was his brother-in-law whom Baskar was afraid of. Unless he was saying a big lie, that meant her fears was unfounded. Their cover is still intact.
But in that case, this man should not be allowed to escape. He needs to be pulled in further. He is a valuable asset for their operations.
She wondered how long does the spiked juice took to work. He looked into Baskar's eyes. The iris was beginning to expand a bit.
Time to move further, she thought.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
Vijaya Baskar walked with a visible stagger. The rush of blood into his head had subdued, but he found it difficult to focus his vision on something. The corridor looked like a tunnel, and he had to think twice before figuring out which way is the lift. He saw the red sliding doors in the distance and walked fast towards them.
What would Meiji do now? Would she come after him, calling him to come back? Or would she sit there in disgust. He didn't know. He couldn't think very clearly either. All he wanted to do was run away. He was prepared to walk down the stairs if the lift got late to arrive.
Luckily, the lift was stationed on the same floor, so it opened right upon pressing the 'down' key. He turned and took a final look into the corridor. One side of his dazed mind was expecting Meiji to come running. He pressed the button for the basement parking. As the doors closed, he continued to peer into the semi darkness of the corridor to see if anyone moves there.
No one did.
As the life started its downward journey, he leaned on the wall and dropped his head. The brief reduction of weight when the lift moved had caused another wave of dizziness in his head. He tried hard to stabilize himself.
What happened to me? He thought. Is he becoming sick? Everything was going well, but things turned downhill suddenly. Was this god's punishment? Did Chitra's favourite god intervene? Did it save him from committing a sin?
He was not sure. He couldn't think clearly. It was like getting stuck in a fog. His senses seemed to be detached from himself. It was like he was driving himself from a remote control.
The lift had reached the bottom. The small jolt when it stopped waked him from the momentary trance. He walked out from the lift. It took a moment for him to remember where he parked his car. He struggled to walk towards the car, and with some effort, opened the door and fell into the driver's seat.
He could still feel his heartbeat reverberating throughout his body. His vision also changed focus with the beats. That was strange.
What the hell came on him? Is he having a stroke or something?
That thought gave him a mental jolt. A shot of adrenaline rush went through his body. His heart pounded away in the chest cavity, and he got drenched in cold sweat. He thought he was dying. He took the bottle of water from the side and took a long drink.
Surprisingly, as the sweat subsided, he felt much better. His vision had cleared a bit, and he could think better.
He once again went over what happened at the flat only minutes ago. But it felt like hours.
He was disappointed with himself.
Maybe it was a curse, or god's intervention. Maybe because he was tense. Maybe because he was scared a bit. Or maybe it was his body that was built just like that.
Were he right? He was cheating on Chitra. Would she cheat on him? He didn't think so. Even though she seemed to be always unhappy, she would never do.
Then why did Meiji?
That is different. She is from and entirely different social setup. Maybe it is perfectly fine to her moral standards.
But what about his own standards? Did they allow extra marital affairs? Baskar cringed on that question.
But none of these remorse where there when he was surrounded by the soft, but firm hands of Meiji. He thought of nothing else in the world. Rights, wrongs and morals didn't matter. He wanted her, and she offered herself. He moved with so much of assurance, as if he knew all along that this will happen.
Maybe he did. All the notion of a friendship was a feeble attempt to shade the lust behind. He was deceiving himself.
But can one blame himself? The temptations were high. It seemed like she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. It would have been impossible not to be tempted by her. Didn't the legendary saints also got tempted? Then why blame a poor worldly scientist?
But still, what he was doing was wrong, isn't it? Maybe that is why he failed.
He remembered the time he got married. He was tense, and totally inexperienced. Chitra was the offspring of a conservative family who knew nothing a all. Then also, he failed.
But what about now? He thought he knew things pretty well. In fact too well. He thought he could handle any situation.
But what happened came as a lightning.
Lightning was the right analogy. The clouds picked up electric charge when they move around, becoming bigger and bigger. Finally the charges flow through the air, making the lightning.
Only here, it happened way before it started raining. Just when the clouds were forming up.
Baskar felt disgusted upon himself. He looked down at his crotch. The wetness had started to stain the front of the trousers. He desperately wanted to take a shower.
He started the car and pulled out of the parking slot.
What would Meiji do now? Would she come after him, calling him to come back? Or would she sit there in disgust. He didn't know. He couldn't think very clearly either. All he wanted to do was run away. He was prepared to walk down the stairs if the lift got late to arrive.
Luckily, the lift was stationed on the same floor, so it opened right upon pressing the 'down' key. He turned and took a final look into the corridor. One side of his dazed mind was expecting Meiji to come running. He pressed the button for the basement parking. As the doors closed, he continued to peer into the semi darkness of the corridor to see if anyone moves there.
No one did.
As the life started its downward journey, he leaned on the wall and dropped his head. The brief reduction of weight when the lift moved had caused another wave of dizziness in his head. He tried hard to stabilize himself.
What happened to me? He thought. Is he becoming sick? Everything was going well, but things turned downhill suddenly. Was this god's punishment? Did Chitra's favourite god intervene? Did it save him from committing a sin?
He was not sure. He couldn't think clearly. It was like getting stuck in a fog. His senses seemed to be detached from himself. It was like he was driving himself from a remote control.
The lift had reached the bottom. The small jolt when it stopped waked him from the momentary trance. He walked out from the lift. It took a moment for him to remember where he parked his car. He struggled to walk towards the car, and with some effort, opened the door and fell into the driver's seat.
He could still feel his heartbeat reverberating throughout his body. His vision also changed focus with the beats. That was strange.
What the hell came on him? Is he having a stroke or something?
That thought gave him a mental jolt. A shot of adrenaline rush went through his body. His heart pounded away in the chest cavity, and he got drenched in cold sweat. He thought he was dying. He took the bottle of water from the side and took a long drink.
Surprisingly, as the sweat subsided, he felt much better. His vision had cleared a bit, and he could think better.
He once again went over what happened at the flat only minutes ago. But it felt like hours.
He was disappointed with himself.
Maybe it was a curse, or god's intervention. Maybe because he was tense. Maybe because he was scared a bit. Or maybe it was his body that was built just like that.
Were he right? He was cheating on Chitra. Would she cheat on him? He didn't think so. Even though she seemed to be always unhappy, she would never do.
Then why did Meiji?
That is different. She is from and entirely different social setup. Maybe it is perfectly fine to her moral standards.
But what about his own standards? Did they allow extra marital affairs? Baskar cringed on that question.
But none of these remorse where there when he was surrounded by the soft, but firm hands of Meiji. He thought of nothing else in the world. Rights, wrongs and morals didn't matter. He wanted her, and she offered herself. He moved with so much of assurance, as if he knew all along that this will happen.
Maybe he did. All the notion of a friendship was a feeble attempt to shade the lust behind. He was deceiving himself.
But can one blame himself? The temptations were high. It seemed like she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. It would have been impossible not to be tempted by her. Didn't the legendary saints also got tempted? Then why blame a poor worldly scientist?
But still, what he was doing was wrong, isn't it? Maybe that is why he failed.
He remembered the time he got married. He was tense, and totally inexperienced. Chitra was the offspring of a conservative family who knew nothing a all. Then also, he failed.
But what about now? He thought he knew things pretty well. In fact too well. He thought he could handle any situation.
But what happened came as a lightning.
Lightning was the right analogy. The clouds picked up electric charge when they move around, becoming bigger and bigger. Finally the charges flow through the air, making the lightning.
Only here, it happened way before it started raining. Just when the clouds were forming up.
Baskar felt disgusted upon himself. He looked down at his crotch. The wetness had started to stain the front of the trousers. He desperately wanted to take a shower.
He started the car and pulled out of the parking slot.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
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Re: Spy Story
Meiji watched the staggering form walk away from her in disbelief. Her collar bone hurt where she was pushed violently. The scratch on her upper arm stung.
His last words still rang in her ears. “I am sorry. I got to go.” That was he said repeatedly, before pushing her away and walking out.
Bloody darn washout!!
She had to literally pull him onto her to get something going. Even with the help of the spiked juice, and signals that any man worth 4 inches wouldn't mistake, he was still flip-flopping. Only after she threw herself on him, and let him sniff all those pheromones, he seemed to wake up.
What is with the men in this place? What does their moms feed them when they are babies? He Zi extract? They are good at ogling and drooling. Nothing else.
She felt disgusted. Her back was itching where his hands went up inside the top. It felt like a maggot crawled up there.
What a dud! He didn't last till the clothes came off!!
Initially she hadn't realized what is going on. She was leaning on top of him, while he was on his back at the corner of the sofa in a half sitting position. His hands were playing on her back in a monotonous fashion. Suddenly he held her tighter and the breathing went faster. She felt pressure on her thigh which was jammed against his crotch. Then he went motionless for a few seconds.
Then she knew he lost it.
She did try to continue a bit longer, thinking that he would come around. But after a few seconds of total inaction, he pusher her away, pulled himself up and staggered out.
Bloody eunuch! He didn't have the courtesy to say byebye.
She felt like her body had been dipped in mud. She needed a bath right away.
What would she do now? Adung will be unhappy about it. Would Baskar come back to her? Would he run away in shame, or would take a challenge want to prove his manhood.
She hoped for the latter. He was a valuable asset for the project.
She stood up and straightened the top which was half pulled up. With a yawn and a stretch, she walked to the bathroom.
His last words still rang in her ears. “I am sorry. I got to go.” That was he said repeatedly, before pushing her away and walking out.
Bloody darn washout!!
She had to literally pull him onto her to get something going. Even with the help of the spiked juice, and signals that any man worth 4 inches wouldn't mistake, he was still flip-flopping. Only after she threw herself on him, and let him sniff all those pheromones, he seemed to wake up.
What is with the men in this place? What does their moms feed them when they are babies? He Zi extract? They are good at ogling and drooling. Nothing else.
She felt disgusted. Her back was itching where his hands went up inside the top. It felt like a maggot crawled up there.
What a dud! He didn't last till the clothes came off!!
Initially she hadn't realized what is going on. She was leaning on top of him, while he was on his back at the corner of the sofa in a half sitting position. His hands were playing on her back in a monotonous fashion. Suddenly he held her tighter and the breathing went faster. She felt pressure on her thigh which was jammed against his crotch. Then he went motionless for a few seconds.
Then she knew he lost it.
She did try to continue a bit longer, thinking that he would come around. But after a few seconds of total inaction, he pusher her away, pulled himself up and staggered out.
Bloody eunuch! He didn't have the courtesy to say byebye.
She felt like her body had been dipped in mud. She needed a bath right away.
What would she do now? Adung will be unhappy about it. Would Baskar come back to her? Would he run away in shame, or would take a challenge want to prove his manhood.
She hoped for the latter. He was a valuable asset for the project.
She stood up and straightened the top which was half pulled up. With a yawn and a stretch, she walked to the bathroom.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
“I say, we deliver on the promise” Praveen winked as he said that.
“If your hands are tingling, we will buy a punching bag for you, Praveen”. John teased.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Praveen. That is not an option.” Anil said with some finality.
The team was discussing once again on what to do with Vijaya Baskar. Arjun had manned his regular posts at the mall, but he couldn't find his quarry anywhere. He had no clue on what is going on, till John called him and informed him that Baskar's car is moving.
That confounded him to no less. John's tirade on the phone didn't help either. After hanging up, he strolled up into the third floor, and found the security guard of the residential area standing on top of the stairs, looking around. When he saw Arjun, he beckoned him with a wide grin.
“I got news for you brother. Your Chinese lady had a man with her just moments ago” He seemed to be out of breath from the excitement.
“Is that so? That is great information brother. How did you found out?” Arjun was genuinely glad to hear that.
“I saw her going up in the morning. I remembered what you told me the other day, so I kept a watch on her. The man showed up here asking for that apartment number, and I sent him up”.
“When dd that happen? Is he still in there?” Arjun asked.
“No. It seems they had a fight or something. He went back after half an hour.” The man seemed to be a bit disappointed on that.
“He spent only quarter an hour there?”
“Yes. I think the play didn't happen today”. He said with a smile.
“When did he go back? Did he come this way?” Arjun asked eagerly.
“No. He went directly into the parking lot. It was just five minutes ago he went. It is too bad you were late brother.”
“That is no problem, brother, here.” Arjun took out a 500 rupee note and gave to the guard. “I got to go and see if he is around here.” He took heels down the stairs and briskly out.
The team had not expected Baskar to defy the threat. Worse still, his visiting the lady in the apartment could only mean worse. He is already in the honey pot.
“But he spent just half an hour there.” Arjun objected.
“Kids who breastfeed shouldn't talk on this subject.” Retorted John. “I have done it in five minutes.”
“Then you might have premture ejaculation disorder” Arjun countered.
“What do you know about these, kid? What you see in those blue films is not real. Learn it from the Guru”
“That's enough, John. I would have expected him to stay on at least an hour or two. This half an hour business is a bit odd.” Anil intervened.
“Why do we look at that Anil Sir? He met her, and broke the promise. That is what counts” Praveen was a bit disturbed on the fact that his threat went in vain.
“You are right Praveen. We got to work on him.” Anil agreed.
“Give him the word, and Praveen will bring him here on a stretcher.” John offered.
“No. That line of deterrence is broken. The bluff is called, and we will leave it there. No more discussion on that.” The little raise in Anil's voice silenced them all.
A few awkward moments passed in slence.
John cleared his throat. “Shall we ask Dr. Shankar's help? He knows Baskar well, and have high regards. Let us see if he has some suggestions”
That was agreed, and Anil requested a meeting with Dr. Shankar.
“And please, no more suicides, like last time.” John's comment made everyone laugh.
“I promise” Anil winked, as he walked out of the room.
“If your hands are tingling, we will buy a punching bag for you, Praveen”. John teased.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Praveen. That is not an option.” Anil said with some finality.
The team was discussing once again on what to do with Vijaya Baskar. Arjun had manned his regular posts at the mall, but he couldn't find his quarry anywhere. He had no clue on what is going on, till John called him and informed him that Baskar's car is moving.
That confounded him to no less. John's tirade on the phone didn't help either. After hanging up, he strolled up into the third floor, and found the security guard of the residential area standing on top of the stairs, looking around. When he saw Arjun, he beckoned him with a wide grin.
“I got news for you brother. Your Chinese lady had a man with her just moments ago” He seemed to be out of breath from the excitement.
“Is that so? That is great information brother. How did you found out?” Arjun was genuinely glad to hear that.
“I saw her going up in the morning. I remembered what you told me the other day, so I kept a watch on her. The man showed up here asking for that apartment number, and I sent him up”.
“When dd that happen? Is he still in there?” Arjun asked.
“No. It seems they had a fight or something. He went back after half an hour.” The man seemed to be a bit disappointed on that.
“He spent only quarter an hour there?”
“Yes. I think the play didn't happen today”. He said with a smile.
“When did he go back? Did he come this way?” Arjun asked eagerly.
“No. He went directly into the parking lot. It was just five minutes ago he went. It is too bad you were late brother.”
“That is no problem, brother, here.” Arjun took out a 500 rupee note and gave to the guard. “I got to go and see if he is around here.” He took heels down the stairs and briskly out.
The team had not expected Baskar to defy the threat. Worse still, his visiting the lady in the apartment could only mean worse. He is already in the honey pot.
“But he spent just half an hour there.” Arjun objected.
“Kids who breastfeed shouldn't talk on this subject.” Retorted John. “I have done it in five minutes.”
“Then you might have premture ejaculation disorder” Arjun countered.
“What do you know about these, kid? What you see in those blue films is not real. Learn it from the Guru”
“That's enough, John. I would have expected him to stay on at least an hour or two. This half an hour business is a bit odd.” Anil intervened.
“Why do we look at that Anil Sir? He met her, and broke the promise. That is what counts” Praveen was a bit disturbed on the fact that his threat went in vain.
“You are right Praveen. We got to work on him.” Anil agreed.
“Give him the word, and Praveen will bring him here on a stretcher.” John offered.
“No. That line of deterrence is broken. The bluff is called, and we will leave it there. No more discussion on that.” The little raise in Anil's voice silenced them all.
A few awkward moments passed in slence.
John cleared his throat. “Shall we ask Dr. Shankar's help? He knows Baskar well, and have high regards. Let us see if he has some suggestions”
That was agreed, and Anil requested a meeting with Dr. Shankar.
“And please, no more suicides, like last time.” John's comment made everyone laugh.
“I promise” Anil winked, as he walked out of the room.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
“Is this an iPhone?” Joshi Panikkar asked, as the gizmo was handed over to him.
“No. It is a Chinese copy” John said matter of factly.
“Does it play music?” Joshi turned it around and looked both sides.
“Sure, it will cook dosas as well” John chuckled. Joshi felt embarassed.
“It is just a phone. The display might show some functions, but most will not work.” Anil Nambiar intervened. Joshi was a bit disappointed. He was used to the top of the line gizmo phones.
“What do I do with this?” The disappointment showed in the voice.
Anil chose to ignore that.
“You will move your own SIM into this phone. If you don't have it, you will get a GPRS service as well.”
“I have GPRS” Joshi interrupted.
“Well, get the unlimited plan then.”
“Who will pay the bill?”
“You will!! Think it as a fine for giving in to temptation.” John said, and continued in the voice of a sermon “keep us from temptation and protect us from Satan! Amen”
All laughed, including Joshi. He wasn't happy about the bill issue, but he knew he didn't have a choice.
“And I just use the phone normally?” Joshi hadn't understood the purpose of the phone.
“Not only that. You will always keep this with you.” Explained Anil.
“Even in the bathroom, or in bed” John added, with a wink.
“Make sure you have it in your pocket when you talk business to your fried Adung and company”
“Especially, his wife, if you get the chance.” John added.
Anil gave a dirty look to John. He ignored it.
“What does it do?” Joshi asked.
“If you do any mischief, it will blow up and kill ya” John broke in before Anil could say anything.
“John, please..” Anil was loosing patience with his nerdy colleague.
“Yes, Sir. Stopping now..” John bowed, and as Anil turned his face to Joshi, put his tongue out and made a face.
“This is a tracking and listening device. It will protect both you, and us. We can't say anything more.” Anil said.
John cleared his throat and made a gagging noise. When Anil looked at him, he made a begging sign to speak.
Anil smiled and nodded agreement.
“Do not try to do anything other than regular phone functions. Also, never, I say NEVER try to open it. This is a gadget, and it will try to protect itself if you do. And the results may not be pretty”
Anil once again nodded in agreement. “NEVER” he said with emphasis.
The GPS device in the phone would trace all its movements. A listening device will record all sounds around it. The recorded data could be retrieved over GPRS, or even over the voice channel if needed.
From then, Joshi was a prisoner in the open.
“No. It is a Chinese copy” John said matter of factly.
“Does it play music?” Joshi turned it around and looked both sides.
“Sure, it will cook dosas as well” John chuckled. Joshi felt embarassed.
“It is just a phone. The display might show some functions, but most will not work.” Anil Nambiar intervened. Joshi was a bit disappointed. He was used to the top of the line gizmo phones.
“What do I do with this?” The disappointment showed in the voice.
Anil chose to ignore that.
“You will move your own SIM into this phone. If you don't have it, you will get a GPRS service as well.”
“I have GPRS” Joshi interrupted.
“Well, get the unlimited plan then.”
“Who will pay the bill?”
“You will!! Think it as a fine for giving in to temptation.” John said, and continued in the voice of a sermon “keep us from temptation and protect us from Satan! Amen”
All laughed, including Joshi. He wasn't happy about the bill issue, but he knew he didn't have a choice.
“And I just use the phone normally?” Joshi hadn't understood the purpose of the phone.
“Not only that. You will always keep this with you.” Explained Anil.
“Even in the bathroom, or in bed” John added, with a wink.
“Make sure you have it in your pocket when you talk business to your fried Adung and company”
“Especially, his wife, if you get the chance.” John added.
Anil gave a dirty look to John. He ignored it.
“What does it do?” Joshi asked.
“If you do any mischief, it will blow up and kill ya” John broke in before Anil could say anything.
“John, please..” Anil was loosing patience with his nerdy colleague.
“Yes, Sir. Stopping now..” John bowed, and as Anil turned his face to Joshi, put his tongue out and made a face.
“This is a tracking and listening device. It will protect both you, and us. We can't say anything more.” Anil said.
John cleared his throat and made a gagging noise. When Anil looked at him, he made a begging sign to speak.
Anil smiled and nodded agreement.
“Do not try to do anything other than regular phone functions. Also, never, I say NEVER try to open it. This is a gadget, and it will try to protect itself if you do. And the results may not be pretty”
Anil once again nodded in agreement. “NEVER” he said with emphasis.
The GPS device in the phone would trace all its movements. A listening device will record all sounds around it. The recorded data could be retrieved over GPRS, or even over the voice channel if needed.
From then, Joshi was a prisoner in the open.
Re: Spy Story
he doesn't know she is chinese. or is this a general comment meaning 'chinese looking' ?“I got news for you brother. Your Chinese lady had a man with her just moments ago” He seemed to be out of breath from the excitement.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
Baskar was expecting an outburst when he broke the news to his wife. He knew Chitra liked the place. It was not too far from the home town, and the language was not too difficult. She had the fear that the other places are full of Hindi speakers, which scared her to death.
He was getting transferred.
The trouble is, there is no convincing reason for his transfer. Nor there is a visible purpose. He was a scientist who worked on the algorithms that processed the sonar signals. And he is transferred to a research facility that built lasers. That too in some godforsaken place deep in the heart of the country.
His boss did vaguely mention about the well-being of his family. Did he mean his recent encounters? Did his wife or that cunning fox of a brother-in-law figure something and let the boss know? Did the office grapewine pick it up?
He was not sure.
All he knew was he was subjected to some conspiracy that is going to play havoc with his life. He need to now pluck himself from a life that he had established, and move to some remote place.
He hated it.
He did not know what to do with Meiji as well. They hadn't communicated after that encounter in her apartment. Several times he wanted to send a message apologizing. But he was not sure what to write. None of the drafts seemed appropriate. He had half hoped that she might send a message. But why should she? It was his mistake all along.
By the time she made it clear what she wanted, he had demonstrated that he couldn't provide her with that. What a pity!
Is he really incapable? He didn't think so. He had no problem with Chitra even after that. Maybe it was the tension.
And he had this lingering doubt in his mind. He had felt a funny feeling after the event. It felt something similar to the time when he was forced to drink alcohol by his friends while in college. Did Meiji add anything to the juice?
Maybe she did. Can't really blame her. He was always reluctant. Always doubtful about the way he interpreted her moves and intentions.
Oh, god! Upon retrospect, it was very clear what she wanted from him. He, like a fool, had discarded all that. What a loss!
Or, was that a loss at all? Maybe he was saved from a mortal sin of adultery. Maybe he did the right thing. Who knows?
It seems providence intervened with him. Otherwise why this transfer at this time?
Maybe it is prudent to keep away from Meiji. Maybe he will not initiate communication with her. Even for a goodbye.
But what if she contacts him?
Baskar was not sure. He decided to tackle that when the time comes. Right now the task is to break the news to Chitra.
That was a tough one.
He was getting transferred.
The trouble is, there is no convincing reason for his transfer. Nor there is a visible purpose. He was a scientist who worked on the algorithms that processed the sonar signals. And he is transferred to a research facility that built lasers. That too in some godforsaken place deep in the heart of the country.
His boss did vaguely mention about the well-being of his family. Did he mean his recent encounters? Did his wife or that cunning fox of a brother-in-law figure something and let the boss know? Did the office grapewine pick it up?
He was not sure.
All he knew was he was subjected to some conspiracy that is going to play havoc with his life. He need to now pluck himself from a life that he had established, and move to some remote place.
He hated it.
He did not know what to do with Meiji as well. They hadn't communicated after that encounter in her apartment. Several times he wanted to send a message apologizing. But he was not sure what to write. None of the drafts seemed appropriate. He had half hoped that she might send a message. But why should she? It was his mistake all along.
By the time she made it clear what she wanted, he had demonstrated that he couldn't provide her with that. What a pity!
Is he really incapable? He didn't think so. He had no problem with Chitra even after that. Maybe it was the tension.
And he had this lingering doubt in his mind. He had felt a funny feeling after the event. It felt something similar to the time when he was forced to drink alcohol by his friends while in college. Did Meiji add anything to the juice?
Maybe she did. Can't really blame her. He was always reluctant. Always doubtful about the way he interpreted her moves and intentions.
Oh, god! Upon retrospect, it was very clear what she wanted from him. He, like a fool, had discarded all that. What a loss!
Or, was that a loss at all? Maybe he was saved from a mortal sin of adultery. Maybe he did the right thing. Who knows?
It seems providence intervened with him. Otherwise why this transfer at this time?
Maybe it is prudent to keep away from Meiji. Maybe he will not initiate communication with her. Even for a goodbye.
But what if she contacts him?
Baskar was not sure. He decided to tackle that when the time comes. Right now the task is to break the news to Chitra.
That was a tough one.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
The house boat floated lazily in the calmly flowing water. The tide had just started its ebb, so the flow was not appreciable, except the slow downstream movement with respect to the shore. It takes a bit of time for the water to recede in the large volume of backwaters before the outflow intensifies in the small branches and canals. The boat driver was instructed to turn the engine off and just let her float. The cormorants, who normally keep a safe distance when the engine runs, started to come closer. The spicy smell of cooking from the kitchen percolated the inside of the boat, carried by the breeze. The world around was calm and quiet.
Anil Nambiar sat on the sofa, facing away from the window. He wanted his boss to have the advantage of the fantastic view around. O.P., as everyone called Dr. O. P. Malhotra IPS, was enjoying it as well. The mood was good, as vouched by the bottled of local toddy on the table. This place got the best stuff, straight from the tree. It was specially prepared for the guests of the house boats by decanting and filtering. Anil had chosen the traditional accompaniments, namely boiled tapioca and crushed chillies, as well as stir fried clam meat. Even though they were a bit too hot for him, O.P. Seemed to be enjoying the fare.
“I agree with you Anil, the Chinese always employ more than one branch at a place. We haven't uncovered it doesn't mean it doesn't exist”
“We haven't pulled back on that Sir. I just wanted to stress that our friend Adung is fully contained.”
“Well, 'fully contained' is a strong word, my friend. I would agree that you have contained the 'known' branches” O.P. Said with a grin, as he reached for another chunk of tapioca.
“I am pretty sure we have found all his branches. He and his wife are personally tagged 100%, and their communications are monitored. Their contacts are also tagged. If there exists another branch, he should be using 'telepathy' to communicate with them”. Anil eagerly explained. He himself had broken his brain on this, and every time, his conviction had been reinforced.
“I am not disagreeing with you, Anil. I just want to make sure that you guys do not loose up”.
“I know Sir.” Anil took another gulp of the toddy. It is fermenting more as it stays, he felt.
“Actually my concern is more at across the lake.” O.P. Looked far out, as it trying to see into the future. “We haven't seen any action in that area yet, and that worries me”.
“The naval intelligence guys have that place under control Sir.” Anil ventured.
“Oh, the great oxymoron. Military Intelligence!” We had taken the best of them to our agency, and still you think they are great?” O.P. Asked with a chuckle. Anil laughed out.
“I can't comment on that, Sir. But the NRE is embedded deep in the naval base, and have security on top of the regular naval detail. They have limited staff, and all of them under watch.”
“I know, but we should have seen some action by now. Do you think our friends will leave that place alone?”
“No. It concerns me as well, Sir. They should already know that at least some part of the work is being done there. They must have been trying to bore in there.”
“Exactly. And neither us, or the “naval intelligence” have got any indication of that. It shows, we miss something”. O. P. followed Anil's example of poking his finger into the crushed chilly mix and dabbing it on the tongue. 'Too hot!' he thought. 'These locals must have their tastebuds destroyed already'. He gulped down the toddy to escape from the heat.
There was a knock on the door and the boat driver showed his face in. “Lunch will be ready in half an hour, Sir. Do you need anything else now?”
“Some more clams, if you please.” O. P. said, pointing to the almost empty plate of clams. The driver nodded and left.
“It was smart to hire this boat Anil. I love it” O. P. complemented his disciple.
“And secure too.” winked Anil. “It was not pre-planned. I just flagged one randomly in the morning”
“That is another concern I have. We haven't seen any counter offensive on you yet as well. I would have anticipated that too”
“We haven't interfered with them in any way. That maybe why.”
“I got to tell you Anil. That barging in for the photograph was a bit foolish to do.” O.P. Tried hard to keep his tone from being accusatory.
“I know, Sir, but that was the best option then. Anything else would be worse.”
“Can't disagree on that. I just want you to take care.”
“I understand Sir.”
They went into silence for some time. Both deep in thought. O.P. Had great regard for his deputy. In fact, he hadn't felt that this trip is necessary. His boss was adamant that he take a personal look, and of course he was glad to visit the place, which is a tourist haven.
The snake have got the assailants in its coil, under the unrelenting wrap of death. But it can not be complacent, because danger lurks in the darkness beyond its view.
End of The Coil
Anil Nambiar sat on the sofa, facing away from the window. He wanted his boss to have the advantage of the fantastic view around. O.P., as everyone called Dr. O. P. Malhotra IPS, was enjoying it as well. The mood was good, as vouched by the bottled of local toddy on the table. This place got the best stuff, straight from the tree. It was specially prepared for the guests of the house boats by decanting and filtering. Anil had chosen the traditional accompaniments, namely boiled tapioca and crushed chillies, as well as stir fried clam meat. Even though they were a bit too hot for him, O.P. Seemed to be enjoying the fare.
“I agree with you Anil, the Chinese always employ more than one branch at a place. We haven't uncovered it doesn't mean it doesn't exist”
“We haven't pulled back on that Sir. I just wanted to stress that our friend Adung is fully contained.”
“Well, 'fully contained' is a strong word, my friend. I would agree that you have contained the 'known' branches” O.P. Said with a grin, as he reached for another chunk of tapioca.
“I am pretty sure we have found all his branches. He and his wife are personally tagged 100%, and their communications are monitored. Their contacts are also tagged. If there exists another branch, he should be using 'telepathy' to communicate with them”. Anil eagerly explained. He himself had broken his brain on this, and every time, his conviction had been reinforced.
“I am not disagreeing with you, Anil. I just want to make sure that you guys do not loose up”.
“I know Sir.” Anil took another gulp of the toddy. It is fermenting more as it stays, he felt.
“Actually my concern is more at across the lake.” O.P. Looked far out, as it trying to see into the future. “We haven't seen any action in that area yet, and that worries me”.
“The naval intelligence guys have that place under control Sir.” Anil ventured.
“Oh, the great oxymoron. Military Intelligence!” We had taken the best of them to our agency, and still you think they are great?” O.P. Asked with a chuckle. Anil laughed out.
“I can't comment on that, Sir. But the NRE is embedded deep in the naval base, and have security on top of the regular naval detail. They have limited staff, and all of them under watch.”
“I know, but we should have seen some action by now. Do you think our friends will leave that place alone?”
“No. It concerns me as well, Sir. They should already know that at least some part of the work is being done there. They must have been trying to bore in there.”
“Exactly. And neither us, or the “naval intelligence” have got any indication of that. It shows, we miss something”. O. P. followed Anil's example of poking his finger into the crushed chilly mix and dabbing it on the tongue. 'Too hot!' he thought. 'These locals must have their tastebuds destroyed already'. He gulped down the toddy to escape from the heat.
There was a knock on the door and the boat driver showed his face in. “Lunch will be ready in half an hour, Sir. Do you need anything else now?”
“Some more clams, if you please.” O. P. said, pointing to the almost empty plate of clams. The driver nodded and left.
“It was smart to hire this boat Anil. I love it” O. P. complemented his disciple.
“And secure too.” winked Anil. “It was not pre-planned. I just flagged one randomly in the morning”
“That is another concern I have. We haven't seen any counter offensive on you yet as well. I would have anticipated that too”
“We haven't interfered with them in any way. That maybe why.”
“I got to tell you Anil. That barging in for the photograph was a bit foolish to do.” O.P. Tried hard to keep his tone from being accusatory.
“I know, Sir, but that was the best option then. Anything else would be worse.”
“Can't disagree on that. I just want you to take care.”
“I understand Sir.”
They went into silence for some time. Both deep in thought. O.P. Had great regard for his deputy. In fact, he hadn't felt that this trip is necessary. His boss was adamant that he take a personal look, and of course he was glad to visit the place, which is a tourist haven.
The snake have got the assailants in its coil, under the unrelenting wrap of death. But it can not be complacent, because danger lurks in the darkness beyond its view.
End of The Coil
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Dileep
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Re: Spy Story
Hearing With the Eyes*
Anil Nambiar was driving back from work when his cell phone rang. He found the number of John Mathew on the CLI, and pulled over.
“Sir, call me sec.” Was the only thing said. Anil hung up the call, and proceeded to connect the G3 data on the phone. After establishing the data link, he brought up an application and logged in through that. This allowed him to hook up into the high security network of his organization, allowing him to make secure calls over unsecured public internet.
Anil punched in the number of John’s secure phone, and immediately got connected.
“Sir, we got a new lead from our friend Lee in Kolkota.” John began.
“Where?”
“Right here in the city Sir”
“And not connected to Adung?” That was a bit surprising to Anil.
“No Sir. Adung had no contact with this guy as we know. This is totally new Sir”. John obviously shared Anil’s surprise.
“That will be a bit of trouble for us, especially you, John.” Any new branch of the network means more work for John Mathew. Anil knew that John would love that in reality.
“Oh, we have more problems with this one Sir. He is from the Navy.” John’s pleasant voice totally underplayed the gravity of the information.
Anil almost dropped the phone.
“Navy? Are you sure John?” Anil’s voice suddenly became a bit serious.
“Well sir, someone called Lee from the cell phone that is registered in his name, under the address of his naval quarters. That is all we have at this moment.” John said in a matter of fact tone.
“Who is the guy?”
“One Lieutenant Raja Mohan”
“OK. I am coming to your place. I need all the information you can get. I need to talk to O.P. About it”. Anil said, as he was already pulling out the car for a U-Turn.
Little did he know that he was embarking on another of the roller coaster chases.
*chakshu SravaNa: Snakes are believed to hear through the eyes, according to the vedas.
Anil Nambiar was driving back from work when his cell phone rang. He found the number of John Mathew on the CLI, and pulled over.
“Sir, call me sec.” Was the only thing said. Anil hung up the call, and proceeded to connect the G3 data on the phone. After establishing the data link, he brought up an application and logged in through that. This allowed him to hook up into the high security network of his organization, allowing him to make secure calls over unsecured public internet.
Anil punched in the number of John’s secure phone, and immediately got connected.
“Sir, we got a new lead from our friend Lee in Kolkota.” John began.
“Where?”
“Right here in the city Sir”
“And not connected to Adung?” That was a bit surprising to Anil.
“No Sir. Adung had no contact with this guy as we know. This is totally new Sir”. John obviously shared Anil’s surprise.
“That will be a bit of trouble for us, especially you, John.” Any new branch of the network means more work for John Mathew. Anil knew that John would love that in reality.
“Oh, we have more problems with this one Sir. He is from the Navy.” John’s pleasant voice totally underplayed the gravity of the information.
Anil almost dropped the phone.
“Navy? Are you sure John?” Anil’s voice suddenly became a bit serious.
“Well sir, someone called Lee from the cell phone that is registered in his name, under the address of his naval quarters. That is all we have at this moment.” John said in a matter of fact tone.
“Who is the guy?”
“One Lieutenant Raja Mohan”
“OK. I am coming to your place. I need all the information you can get. I need to talk to O.P. About it”. Anil said, as he was already pulling out the car for a U-Turn.
Little did he know that he was embarking on another of the roller coaster chases.
*chakshu SravaNa: Snakes are believed to hear through the eyes, according to the vedas.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
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Re: Spy Story
Lt. Raja Mohan was sitting alone on the sofa in his living room. A half empty bottle of Jonhey Walker Red was on the teapoy, with a 2 litre bottle of soda and some snacks. He was holding onto a half filled glass like it was a lifeline. He was obviously tense and angry.
His wife Nisha and the little daughter Sneha had retired to the back verandah. They knew when not to disturb the man. E could be violent in one of those moods. Nisha was the daughter of a Naval officer herself, but there was no comparison between her father and husband. Her dad was always the loving figure whom you missed even on a work day. Raja Mohan did not instil such sentiments in her. Even little Sneha didn’t look forward to his coming home.
Nisha always wondered why the venerable Captain Nagendra, her dear father, chose Raja Mohan to marry her off. Maybe he was in a hurry. Maybe he knew about his failing heart, and the thought of her daughter, who lost her mother in her teens, having to fend off alone in the world worried him. Maybe he failed to figure what kind of a person Raja Mohan really was. Despite being an academically bright engineer with a promising career in the technical branch of the navy.
Nisha could not blame her father. The poor man would have been heartbroken if he was alive. He hadn’t lived to see Sneha being born. He left the world without seeing the real colours of Raja Mohan.
How selfish and greedy he was. How he never felt satisfied on anything. How he wanted more.
Even of her as a woman.
Nisha felt disgusted. She stroked the silky hair of little Sneha as she worked the colouring book.
She heard a knock on the front door. She decided to ignore it. She heard her husband go and open the door.
He heard a few people enter the house, and some talk in casual tone.
Maybe his friends. Best ignored unless called by Raja.
Nisha continued to stroke Sneha’s hair. Somehow she felt tense for no apparent reason
His wife Nisha and the little daughter Sneha had retired to the back verandah. They knew when not to disturb the man. E could be violent in one of those moods. Nisha was the daughter of a Naval officer herself, but there was no comparison between her father and husband. Her dad was always the loving figure whom you missed even on a work day. Raja Mohan did not instil such sentiments in her. Even little Sneha didn’t look forward to his coming home.
Nisha always wondered why the venerable Captain Nagendra, her dear father, chose Raja Mohan to marry her off. Maybe he was in a hurry. Maybe he knew about his failing heart, and the thought of her daughter, who lost her mother in her teens, having to fend off alone in the world worried him. Maybe he failed to figure what kind of a person Raja Mohan really was. Despite being an academically bright engineer with a promising career in the technical branch of the navy.
Nisha could not blame her father. The poor man would have been heartbroken if he was alive. He hadn’t lived to see Sneha being born. He left the world without seeing the real colours of Raja Mohan.
How selfish and greedy he was. How he never felt satisfied on anything. How he wanted more.
Even of her as a woman.
Nisha felt disgusted. She stroked the silky hair of little Sneha as she worked the colouring book.
She heard a knock on the front door. She decided to ignore it. She heard her husband go and open the door.
He heard a few people enter the house, and some talk in casual tone.
Maybe his friends. Best ignored unless called by Raja.
Nisha continued to stroke Sneha’s hair. Somehow she felt tense for no apparent reason
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
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Re: Spy Story
The door bell startled Raja. The evenings are an odd time for anyone to visit. He gulped down what remained in the glass and placed it back on the tray. Rising with some effort, he shuffled towards the door, and looked through the peep-hole. He half expected a messenger from his ‘business contact’.
He was worried about having no news from his ‘partner’. He was supposed to call him in the morning, but the only response he got from his cell phone was that it was “switched off”. In desperation he had called the client in Calcutta. That call was not answered.
He regreted making that call right away. He realized it was a terrible idea, right after it started ringing. He didn’t have the heart to call again.
But what happened to Mr. Shenoy? He used to be a very punctual and reliable guy. The thought that he might have screwed him after getting the stuff was driving Raja crazy. But one side of his mind kept reassuring him.
That optimism made him expect to see a messenger from Shenoy at the door.
Three men stood there. All wore semi formal dress with ties. Should be insurance agents, Raja thought. Or maybe from the vacation club in which he took a membership recently. He opened the door after fumbling a bit with the chain.
“Sir, I am Thomas John from ICICI Bank Main branch. May we come in?” Asked the tall man with thin beard. He had already taken a confident step inside, in anticipation of an affirmative response, followed by the two other men with him. Raja Mohan had no option other than to nod and invite them to the sofa. The man waited till Raja sat on the corner of the big sofa, and sat on the single seater next to him. One of the guys sat next to Raja on the big sofa, to a bit of discomfort of his.
Raja looked at the visitors enquiringly.
The bearded man took a phone out and said in a clear deliberate voice.
“Please call your commanding officer from this phone for your orders.”
Raja Mohan almost fainted, with a total loss of words.
He was worried about having no news from his ‘partner’. He was supposed to call him in the morning, but the only response he got from his cell phone was that it was “switched off”. In desperation he had called the client in Calcutta. That call was not answered.
He regreted making that call right away. He realized it was a terrible idea, right after it started ringing. He didn’t have the heart to call again.
But what happened to Mr. Shenoy? He used to be a very punctual and reliable guy. The thought that he might have screwed him after getting the stuff was driving Raja crazy. But one side of his mind kept reassuring him.
That optimism made him expect to see a messenger from Shenoy at the door.
Three men stood there. All wore semi formal dress with ties. Should be insurance agents, Raja thought. Or maybe from the vacation club in which he took a membership recently. He opened the door after fumbling a bit with the chain.
“Sir, I am Thomas John from ICICI Bank Main branch. May we come in?” Asked the tall man with thin beard. He had already taken a confident step inside, in anticipation of an affirmative response, followed by the two other men with him. Raja Mohan had no option other than to nod and invite them to the sofa. The man waited till Raja sat on the corner of the big sofa, and sat on the single seater next to him. One of the guys sat next to Raja on the big sofa, to a bit of discomfort of his.
Raja looked at the visitors enquiringly.
The bearded man took a phone out and said in a clear deliberate voice.
“Please call your commanding officer from this phone for your orders.”
Raja Mohan almost fainted, with a total loss of words.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
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Re: Spy Story
“What do you mean? Who are you people?” The voice didn’t really come out of Raja’s throat, as it had gone dry. He tried to rise from the sofa, but his limbs didn’t get the purchase to raise himself. The man sitting next to him momentarily placed his hand on his shoulder, as if ready to push him down.
“It doesn’t matter who we are. Call your CO for your orders”. The tall man said in a voice that was almost soothing, as he pushed the phone towards Raja.
“What if I don’t! I am a Naval Officer! I will call the police!” Raja got some voice back, and made aother attempt to rise. He was smoothly pushed down by the man next to him.
“If you don’t make the call, he himself will send the NPs here. No need to call THEM.” The man continued in his soothing monotone.
Raja hesitated.
“Please..” The coldness in the voice was enough to make Raja comply. He took the phone offered by the man.
“Use his official cell number.” Directed the man. Raja dialled.
As Raja listened to the call going through, and started ringing, he noticed that another phone with the tall man started ringing. He picked it up, pressed the talk button and kept it between him and Raja. After a second he heard the familiar voice of Captain Loknath, his commanding officer.
“This is Raja here Sir”, Raja’s voice trembled a bit.
“Raja, are there three men with you?” asked the captain in an unusually cold voice.
“Yes Sir. What is going on Sir? Who are these people, Sir?” Raja asked breathlessly.
The tall man pressed the speakerphone, and surprisingly, the same voice that came on Raja’s phone came on his phone too.
“Raja, here are your orders. You will co operate with those men while they search your house. You, or your family members will not interfere with their work. After the search, you and family will accompany them to my house. Is that clear?”
“Yes sir.” Raja’s voice was so hoarse, that it was unrecognizable.
“Mr. Nambiar. You heard the orders, and you know the drill. Bring them, and everything else, back to my house pronto. OK?” The captain addressed the tall man over the phone.
“Yes Captain. Thank you very much for the help Sir.” Anil Nambiar closed the conversation. Both phones got disconnected.
Nisha was called in to the hall to give company to her husband. As Raja sat with his face hidden in his palms, Anil explained to the poor woman that it is just an inspection on some alleged corruption. Nothing to worry about, as it is just a formality.
And nothing was far from the truth.
With the uncanny ability that god bestowed on women, she immediately realized that her husband is in big trouble.
As she sat down on the single seater across from her husband, she thought her husband muttered “I am sorry” under his breath.
“It doesn’t matter who we are. Call your CO for your orders”. The tall man said in a voice that was almost soothing, as he pushed the phone towards Raja.
“What if I don’t! I am a Naval Officer! I will call the police!” Raja got some voice back, and made aother attempt to rise. He was smoothly pushed down by the man next to him.
“If you don’t make the call, he himself will send the NPs here. No need to call THEM.” The man continued in his soothing monotone.
Raja hesitated.
“Please..” The coldness in the voice was enough to make Raja comply. He took the phone offered by the man.
“Use his official cell number.” Directed the man. Raja dialled.
As Raja listened to the call going through, and started ringing, he noticed that another phone with the tall man started ringing. He picked it up, pressed the talk button and kept it between him and Raja. After a second he heard the familiar voice of Captain Loknath, his commanding officer.
“This is Raja here Sir”, Raja’s voice trembled a bit.
“Raja, are there three men with you?” asked the captain in an unusually cold voice.
“Yes Sir. What is going on Sir? Who are these people, Sir?” Raja asked breathlessly.
The tall man pressed the speakerphone, and surprisingly, the same voice that came on Raja’s phone came on his phone too.
“Raja, here are your orders. You will co operate with those men while they search your house. You, or your family members will not interfere with their work. After the search, you and family will accompany them to my house. Is that clear?”
“Yes sir.” Raja’s voice was so hoarse, that it was unrecognizable.
“Mr. Nambiar. You heard the orders, and you know the drill. Bring them, and everything else, back to my house pronto. OK?” The captain addressed the tall man over the phone.
“Yes Captain. Thank you very much for the help Sir.” Anil Nambiar closed the conversation. Both phones got disconnected.
Nisha was called in to the hall to give company to her husband. As Raja sat with his face hidden in his palms, Anil explained to the poor woman that it is just an inspection on some alleged corruption. Nothing to worry about, as it is just a formality.
And nothing was far from the truth.
With the uncanny ability that god bestowed on women, she immediately realized that her husband is in big trouble.
As she sat down on the single seater across from her husband, she thought her husband muttered “I am sorry” under his breath.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
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Re: Spy Story
Soon after the family settled down in the hall, with one man watching over them, another couple of men walked in and closed the front door. One of them took out a video camera and started filming the hall. As Nisha looked questioningly at him he smiled and said “Just for records maa’m”.
They found an HTC smart phone on the table. As the camera looked on, one of them read the phone number and IMEI number from the phone. He compared those numbers to his notepad and called out to Anil.
“Sir, we got the phone. Number and ID matched.”
Anil nodded, and noticed that Raja had collapsed on the sofa. He motioned to Nisha to help him. She went and tried to raise him. He held on to Nisha, hiding his face on her bosom like a child. Violent sobs shook his body as he cried.
Little Sneha was too bewildered to respond. She just crawled onto the lap of her mother, and held onto the shaking body of her father.
The men went on with their work. They grabbed the laptop, desktop PC, a number of pen drives and memory cards from the house. Everything was brought into the hall and kept on the floor.
Then they took the inventory, recording everything in detail under the watchful eye of the camera. After everything was done, they offered a copy of the inventory to Raja for his sign.
As Raja showed no sign of acknowledging the request, Nisha took the paper and signed.
The party then left for the house of Captain Loknath.
They found an HTC smart phone on the table. As the camera looked on, one of them read the phone number and IMEI number from the phone. He compared those numbers to his notepad and called out to Anil.
“Sir, we got the phone. Number and ID matched.”
Anil nodded, and noticed that Raja had collapsed on the sofa. He motioned to Nisha to help him. She went and tried to raise him. He held on to Nisha, hiding his face on her bosom like a child. Violent sobs shook his body as he cried.
Little Sneha was too bewildered to respond. She just crawled onto the lap of her mother, and held onto the shaking body of her father.
The men went on with their work. They grabbed the laptop, desktop PC, a number of pen drives and memory cards from the house. Everything was brought into the hall and kept on the floor.
Then they took the inventory, recording everything in detail under the watchful eye of the camera. After everything was done, they offered a copy of the inventory to Raja for his sign.
As Raja showed no sign of acknowledging the request, Nisha took the paper and signed.
The party then left for the house of Captain Loknath.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
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Re: Spy Story
“What exactly was in the memory card?” Captain Loknath asked.
Raja Mohan sat, slumped in a chair, unable to raise his face. Anil was sitting on one side.
The charge was serious. Raja had admitted that he had sold some classified information to an outside agent, after being asked to choose between a trial for treason, or a court martial in exchange for full co-operation. He knew that no justification could be sold on his call to Mr. Lee in Kolkatta. He was also sure that traces of the information he sold could be found from his PC.
He cursed himself, first for making that stupid call. Then for not wiping the disk. Then for falling for the stupid trap.
Yes, he was trapped. His greed and ambition made him to betray his own country. An offer of a life in the USA, with a decent job and protection from CIA was tough to refuse. He always wanted to migrate to the USA.
Only if he was born five or six years later, after the IT Boom had set in. Only if his father had a bit more money to send him there for post graduation.
All wishes. When he had finished the education, jobs were scarce. There was no IT boom to be picked up from campus. The norm was to finish college, write tests of all the big public sector companies with the hope of getting selected.
Or attend the selection by the forces. That looked a good option then. He tried, and got selected to the technical stream. All his family were happy.
He wasn’t. His better born classmates were always talking about writing GRE and GMAT, about the colleges (that they called schools in american fashion) there, about the facilities. It became so annoying that he wanted to beat them up.
Oh, just if his father had money to send him to USA. But poor Mr. Mohan Das was so happy that his son got selected into the Navy. Lucky that he didn’t live to see today.
Yes. Mohan Das was a proud and decent man. He would have been shattered to learn that his son had sold off the country. That too for an offer of money and life in the USA. He shouldn’t never have pardoned Raja.
He might have killed himself in shame.
“What exactly was in the memory card?” The captain repeated the question.
“Drawings, specifications, test reports..” Raja’s voice trailed off.
“Of what?” Insisted the captain.
“HFS Project”
Anil almost jumped out of the chair
Raja Mohan sat, slumped in a chair, unable to raise his face. Anil was sitting on one side.
The charge was serious. Raja had admitted that he had sold some classified information to an outside agent, after being asked to choose between a trial for treason, or a court martial in exchange for full co-operation. He knew that no justification could be sold on his call to Mr. Lee in Kolkatta. He was also sure that traces of the information he sold could be found from his PC.
He cursed himself, first for making that stupid call. Then for not wiping the disk. Then for falling for the stupid trap.
Yes, he was trapped. His greed and ambition made him to betray his own country. An offer of a life in the USA, with a decent job and protection from CIA was tough to refuse. He always wanted to migrate to the USA.
Only if he was born five or six years later, after the IT Boom had set in. Only if his father had a bit more money to send him there for post graduation.
All wishes. When he had finished the education, jobs were scarce. There was no IT boom to be picked up from campus. The norm was to finish college, write tests of all the big public sector companies with the hope of getting selected.
Or attend the selection by the forces. That looked a good option then. He tried, and got selected to the technical stream. All his family were happy.
He wasn’t. His better born classmates were always talking about writing GRE and GMAT, about the colleges (that they called schools in american fashion) there, about the facilities. It became so annoying that he wanted to beat them up.
Oh, just if his father had money to send him to USA. But poor Mr. Mohan Das was so happy that his son got selected into the Navy. Lucky that he didn’t live to see today.
Yes. Mohan Das was a proud and decent man. He would have been shattered to learn that his son had sold off the country. That too for an offer of money and life in the USA. He shouldn’t never have pardoned Raja.
He might have killed himself in shame.
“What exactly was in the memory card?” The captain repeated the question.
“Drawings, specifications, test reports..” Raja’s voice trailed off.
“Of what?” Insisted the captain.
“HFS Project”
Anil almost jumped out of the chair
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Dileep
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Re: Spy Story
Anil Nambiar sat with his forehead in his palm. Things have taken a very dirty turn. Information that is very critical for the national security had been compromised, and all he have is a name ‘Shenoy’ and a cellphone number.
The surveillance operations set up by his team was working pretty well. But everything they did was centered on one man. Adung Takhom. He was under constant surveillance and everyone and everything that dealt with him was investigated. He had a few local contacts which were managed very efficiently. He had just one trail upstream, Mr. Lee. They believed everything was under control.
Till Lt. Raja Mohan made that fateful call. He used a number that was under tag by the agency, and the filters immediately alerted the team in the City. Investigation traced the number to Lt. Raja Mohan. It was enough probable cause to get the top brass of the agency into action to get an undercover raid on Lt. Raja. The matter was so sensitive that no one, except the flag officer of the naval station and Captain Loknath knew about it. Arrangement was made to arrest Lt. Raja Mohan on espionage charges, without any reference to the actual crime.
That solved the Navy’s problem, but for the agency, and specifically Anil Nambiar, it has just begun.
They started with the obvious action. Looking up the identity records of the cell phone. That traced to a fish vendor at the harbour. He never had applied for the number. He claimed that someone must have used his ID documents to get a connection.
Meanwhile, they looked up the call logs of the phone from the service provider. No real pattern was found from the logs. Many calls were to real estate professionals. Some of them were known to Inspector Ajith, but none remembered anything about this number. They get calls from thousands of people, so obviously it is hard to remember.
The trail seemed to hit a dead end. A trace was initiated on the number, and the phone used on it. It was not active anywhere in the country.
An alert was set on all networks for the number and phone, and the central hub of the agency was directed to pass on the information to the local team on the highest priority.
Now all they could do, was to wait.
The surveillance operations set up by his team was working pretty well. But everything they did was centered on one man. Adung Takhom. He was under constant surveillance and everyone and everything that dealt with him was investigated. He had a few local contacts which were managed very efficiently. He had just one trail upstream, Mr. Lee. They believed everything was under control.
Till Lt. Raja Mohan made that fateful call. He used a number that was under tag by the agency, and the filters immediately alerted the team in the City. Investigation traced the number to Lt. Raja Mohan. It was enough probable cause to get the top brass of the agency into action to get an undercover raid on Lt. Raja. The matter was so sensitive that no one, except the flag officer of the naval station and Captain Loknath knew about it. Arrangement was made to arrest Lt. Raja Mohan on espionage charges, without any reference to the actual crime.
That solved the Navy’s problem, but for the agency, and specifically Anil Nambiar, it has just begun.
They started with the obvious action. Looking up the identity records of the cell phone. That traced to a fish vendor at the harbour. He never had applied for the number. He claimed that someone must have used his ID documents to get a connection.
Meanwhile, they looked up the call logs of the phone from the service provider. No real pattern was found from the logs. Many calls were to real estate professionals. Some of them were known to Inspector Ajith, but none remembered anything about this number. They get calls from thousands of people, so obviously it is hard to remember.
The trail seemed to hit a dead end. A trace was initiated on the number, and the phone used on it. It was not active anywhere in the country.
An alert was set on all networks for the number and phone, and the central hub of the agency was directed to pass on the information to the local team on the highest priority.
Now all they could do, was to wait.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
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Re: Spy Story
“Sir, Shenoy is found in Tamil Nadu.” The excited voice of John burst into Anil’s ear. Anil quickly rose and walked to the sit room where John set up his gear.
“The fools in the network took more than an hour to let us know, Sir. He turned the phone ON at, let’s see..” John quickly verified the name on the screen and continued. “Pagalpatti, near Salem.” The report gave the id of the cell tower and its co ordinates.
John punched up the standard issue satellite map of the area. He then made a circle showing the expected coverage area of the tower.
“It looks like he chose a major intersection area to turn it on. Looks like a smart chap” John mused, as he kept on measuring distance between various points.
“Which is the service provider, John?” Anil asked.
It was Aircel. Anil asked John to display all the towers of Aircel that is nearby.
He did not have the info readily available. Luckily a location database was found in the repository of the agency. The locations had to be marked by hand, as the data was not in a suitable format for the map software to import. It took almost 15 minutes to get it all in place.
Anil and John looked at the map in deep thought. Then John looked up to Anil’s face, and found a smile there.
“Train to Bangalore.” John said with a wide grin and a wink.
“Vacation special. Get the time table.” Anil slapped John’s back in excitement, which actually hurt.
As Anil walked out, Arjun Rai asked how they figured that.
“Magic”, John replied, while he tried to grab the vacation special time table from the railway’s site.
“Really, John? Please tell me”.
“Look at the cell towers. Look at the roads and the railway tracks. Figure out yourself”. John advised.
“The fools in the network took more than an hour to let us know, Sir. He turned the phone ON at, let’s see..” John quickly verified the name on the screen and continued. “Pagalpatti, near Salem.” The report gave the id of the cell tower and its co ordinates.
John punched up the standard issue satellite map of the area. He then made a circle showing the expected coverage area of the tower.
“It looks like he chose a major intersection area to turn it on. Looks like a smart chap” John mused, as he kept on measuring distance between various points.
“Which is the service provider, John?” Anil asked.
It was Aircel. Anil asked John to display all the towers of Aircel that is nearby.
He did not have the info readily available. Luckily a location database was found in the repository of the agency. The locations had to be marked by hand, as the data was not in a suitable format for the map software to import. It took almost 15 minutes to get it all in place.
Anil and John looked at the map in deep thought. Then John looked up to Anil’s face, and found a smile there.
“Train to Bangalore.” John said with a wide grin and a wink.
“Vacation special. Get the time table.” Anil slapped John’s back in excitement, which actually hurt.
As Anil walked out, Arjun Rai asked how they figured that.
“Magic”, John replied, while he tried to grab the vacation special time table from the railway’s site.
“Really, John? Please tell me”.
“Look at the cell towers. Look at the roads and the railway tracks. Figure out yourself”. John advised.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
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Re: Spy Story
When John returned to Anils’ cabin, he found him hunched in front of his laptop, poring over something. John had to cough to get his attention.
“Sir, the train reaches Bangalore at 7:30pm. The time it passes the area matches with the time of the call Sir.” John paused.
“And?” Quizzed Anil.
“The railways confirms that it is running on time Sir.” John showed his grin again.
“It is almost 5:30 now. Someone please get two tickets on the 8:00 flight. Get ready John, we are going.” Anil said. John shook his head in agreement.
“Man, I sure would love to be in Bangalore. The heat here is killing me, and the gals there look much better” John said aloud as if to himself. No one laughed.
Anil went back to his console for a moment, before raising his head and reminding John to alert Nage Gowda, the local head of the agency there. Then he continued his work.
John had just finished the call when Anil called him into his cabin.
“John, Shenoy had called a few numbers there in the past. If we are lucky he might call one of them from there. Give the list to ops desk and ask them to flag them right away. Also grab their call log of the past week”.
He then prceeded into the background info on those numbers. A pair of them drew Anil’s attention. One was the land line number of a company that dealt with dairy products, and the other was the cell number of its proprietor. Shenoy regularly called those numbers.
Neither numbers, or the man, by name Manjunath, had no file at the agency records.
We will look him up there. Anil told himself.
And they began preparations for the journey.
“Sir, the train reaches Bangalore at 7:30pm. The time it passes the area matches with the time of the call Sir.” John paused.
“And?” Quizzed Anil.
“The railways confirms that it is running on time Sir.” John showed his grin again.
“It is almost 5:30 now. Someone please get two tickets on the 8:00 flight. Get ready John, we are going.” Anil said. John shook his head in agreement.
“Man, I sure would love to be in Bangalore. The heat here is killing me, and the gals there look much better” John said aloud as if to himself. No one laughed.
Anil went back to his console for a moment, before raising his head and reminding John to alert Nage Gowda, the local head of the agency there. Then he continued his work.
John had just finished the call when Anil called him into his cabin.
“John, Shenoy had called a few numbers there in the past. If we are lucky he might call one of them from there. Give the list to ops desk and ask them to flag them right away. Also grab their call log of the past week”.
He then prceeded into the background info on those numbers. A pair of them drew Anil’s attention. One was the land line number of a company that dealt with dairy products, and the other was the cell number of its proprietor. Shenoy regularly called those numbers.
Neither numbers, or the man, by name Manjunath, had no file at the agency records.
We will look him up there. Anil told himself.
And they began preparations for the journey.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
Manjunatha Adiga ran a small company that produced cheese. Dealing with milk was his family business. His father, Narayana Adiga, started it in a small way, making butter and ghee out of his home near Udupi.It all started with just two cows. Initially he used to sell milk, but later he figured that as people moved away from the traditional way of life, the preferred to buy, rather than make, the diary products like ghee. He started making ghee from his milk, instead of selling it as it is. As the demand soared for his genuine home made produce, he stared to buy milk from a set of carefully chosen suppliers.
He was a man of high values, who made sure that his milk suppliers never adulterated, and he never, ever compromised in the high standards of quality in his products. He even insisted on standards for taking care of the cows of his suppliers, to the level that of insisting on the proper removal and composting of manure.
By the time young Manjunatha reached adolescence, the firm had grown beyond being a home business. The produce was branded as Adiga's with a sketch of an old man as the mascot. The brand had established a good market at his home area of South Canara. After completing his degree in commerce, Manjunatha took over the business from his father.
When Manjunath took over the business, he expanded it into other dairy products as well. He was smart to foresee the explosion of tourism and western culture. He went to france to get trained in cheesemaking, and started his own brand of cheese products. Narayana didn’t quite like the concept. For his traditional mind, cheese is always ‘spoilt milk’, and hence inedible for humans. With the insistence of his father, Manjunatha had to segregate his cheese business from the original Ghee and butter business. He shifted his headquarters to Bangalore, but his farm and cheese plant remained in the foothills east of Udupi. He maintained a loyal clientele, mainly the restaurants, apart from the catering contractors for the IT companies. He had also started an online store for the produce recently.
The phone rang, and the number of Krishna Moorthy flashed on the acreen. Manjunath was surprised to get the call. His consignment was not due for another two weeks. The Parmesan is still getting ripened. Moorthy held the sole distributorship for his products in his region. Even theough the local population was never into consumption of the products, the boom in tourism, as well as the new consumers who got exposed to the taste while trips abroad, made good business for him.
His company worked exclusively on a made to order system. Even for aged cheeses like Parmesan, you need to place the order in advance, pre-pay and wait for the produce to become ready. Non aged cheeses like Mozzerella also were made to order, and shipped when ready. Manjunatha also insisted on seasonal pricing, since the quality of the cheese varied with the season of production.
Most of the orders were for Parmesan and Mozzerella. He also produced some speciality cheeses based on the french cheeses like Camembert. Even though they were very good, they could not be named so because of geographical indication issues. He did not prefer to make mainstream cooking cheeses like cheddar and jack, though some volume was being produced on customer insistence. Restaurants paid good money for his produce, and were glad to wait after pre-payment.
Manjunath expected some new business when he answered the phone, and what he heard from Morthy surprised him to no extend, like a jolt from the blue. He wanted to cancel the pending orders, and want the advance money back. Yes, this includes the batch of Parmesan that is getting aged right now.
Manjunath did not do business like that, and he felt more angry than disappointed about the request. He did not mince his words in letting Moorthy know what is in his mind. The cheese is made, and must be accepted.
Moorthy was not listening. Hee seemed to be like in a hurry or something. He then made another offer to Manjunatha. He could take half of the advance money, leaving the other half for Manjunatha for lost profits, apart from keeping the cheese. Manjunath was not comfortable with that either. He wanted to sell cheese, not play games with it.
Moorthy claimed that he is right now in Bangalore, and asked if he could meet Manjunath, and explain the problems. Though he was very uncomfortable with the proposal, Manjunath agreed to that. How can you say no when someone want to visit you?
Manjunath kept thinking about the incident for some time. Something isn’t right, he felt.
He was a man of high values, who made sure that his milk suppliers never adulterated, and he never, ever compromised in the high standards of quality in his products. He even insisted on standards for taking care of the cows of his suppliers, to the level that of insisting on the proper removal and composting of manure.
By the time young Manjunatha reached adolescence, the firm had grown beyond being a home business. The produce was branded as Adiga's with a sketch of an old man as the mascot. The brand had established a good market at his home area of South Canara. After completing his degree in commerce, Manjunatha took over the business from his father.
When Manjunath took over the business, he expanded it into other dairy products as well. He was smart to foresee the explosion of tourism and western culture. He went to france to get trained in cheesemaking, and started his own brand of cheese products. Narayana didn’t quite like the concept. For his traditional mind, cheese is always ‘spoilt milk’, and hence inedible for humans. With the insistence of his father, Manjunatha had to segregate his cheese business from the original Ghee and butter business. He shifted his headquarters to Bangalore, but his farm and cheese plant remained in the foothills east of Udupi. He maintained a loyal clientele, mainly the restaurants, apart from the catering contractors for the IT companies. He had also started an online store for the produce recently.
The phone rang, and the number of Krishna Moorthy flashed on the acreen. Manjunath was surprised to get the call. His consignment was not due for another two weeks. The Parmesan is still getting ripened. Moorthy held the sole distributorship for his products in his region. Even theough the local population was never into consumption of the products, the boom in tourism, as well as the new consumers who got exposed to the taste while trips abroad, made good business for him.
His company worked exclusively on a made to order system. Even for aged cheeses like Parmesan, you need to place the order in advance, pre-pay and wait for the produce to become ready. Non aged cheeses like Mozzerella also were made to order, and shipped when ready. Manjunatha also insisted on seasonal pricing, since the quality of the cheese varied with the season of production.
Most of the orders were for Parmesan and Mozzerella. He also produced some speciality cheeses based on the french cheeses like Camembert. Even though they were very good, they could not be named so because of geographical indication issues. He did not prefer to make mainstream cooking cheeses like cheddar and jack, though some volume was being produced on customer insistence. Restaurants paid good money for his produce, and were glad to wait after pre-payment.
Manjunath expected some new business when he answered the phone, and what he heard from Morthy surprised him to no extend, like a jolt from the blue. He wanted to cancel the pending orders, and want the advance money back. Yes, this includes the batch of Parmesan that is getting aged right now.
Manjunath did not do business like that, and he felt more angry than disappointed about the request. He did not mince his words in letting Moorthy know what is in his mind. The cheese is made, and must be accepted.
Moorthy was not listening. Hee seemed to be like in a hurry or something. He then made another offer to Manjunatha. He could take half of the advance money, leaving the other half for Manjunatha for lost profits, apart from keeping the cheese. Manjunath was not comfortable with that either. He wanted to sell cheese, not play games with it.
Moorthy claimed that he is right now in Bangalore, and asked if he could meet Manjunath, and explain the problems. Though he was very uncomfortable with the proposal, Manjunath agreed to that. How can you say no when someone want to visit you?
Manjunath kept thinking about the incident for some time. Something isn’t right, he felt.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
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Re: Spy Story
The stock of surprises hadn’t ended for Manjunatha Adiga that day. He had got delayed with the break down of a packaging machine, and was just started on his lunch of tamarind flavoured rice, when the receptionist came in with a card, with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry to disturb your lunch, Sir, but I thought this is urgent.” She placed a card in front of him.
Manjunatha glanced on the card, and he almost choked on the rice he was chewing, as his throat went dry. It was from certain Nage Gowda from the Revenue Intelligence Department. A cold sweat came down on Manjunath, and in an instant he forgot all about Krishna Moorthy, and his impending visit. He could not even eat anymore of the food. He hurriedly cleared the table, and prepared to receive the visitors.
Manjunatha ran his business in a decent fashion by any standards. He made no compromise in the quality of his produce, and he made sure his accounts and other paperwork in order. But the rules and procedures of the country is built in such a way that it is impossible to comply with all of them. Especially if the official who enforces it has his own ideas about the rules.
Any visit from a government official was a problem for any businessman. It could only mean trouble, real or invented. With a sigh, he asked him to be sent in.
A giant of a man, with pitch dark skin, large bulging eyes and an un naturally dense foliage of hair entered the room, followed by a smaller, lean and fair man with a beard. The giant introduced himself as Nage Gowda, and the other man as Anil Nambiar, his colleague from another state. Then he shook hands with Manjunatha, almost crushing the little finger against his wedding ring. Mr. Nambiar just bowed. Manjunatha invited them to the chairs and remained standing, waiting them to sit down.
Even before settling the huge frame completely down into the chair, Gowda held out a slip of paper to Adiga and boomed. “Do you recognize this number?”. Manjunatha leaned forward and took the paper.
It was the very same number from which Krishna Moorthy called him earlier in the day.
“Yes, it is of my distributor Krishna Moorthy down in the south”. Manjunatha said in an uncertain tone. He was still standing, holding the piece of paper in his hand. He felt a bit relieved, thinking that it may be Moorthy, not him, who was in trouble. He awkwardly realized that he was standing, and sat down with a sigh.
“Krishna Moorthy? Are you sure about the name?” Asked Anil.
“Yes Sir. That is the name” Replied Adiga.
Gowda and Nambiar looked at each other.
“Is he also called Shenoy, by any chance?”
“No Sir. I never heard that name.”
Anil grabbed a post-it from the table and scribbled another number on it and showed to Adiga.
“Yes. This is his number also.” Adiga confirmed. He was now totally confused. He looked at the faces of the two men sitting in front of him. He leaned forward in an effort to ask something, but at the last minute gave it up and sat back.
Gowda and Anil again looked at each other.
“Well, Mr. Adiga, if you don’t mind, tell us what you know about this Krishna Moorthy.” Gowda did an attempt to sit back in the chair, but his body was already tight against the hand rests of the chair.
Anil Nambiar was not so relaxed, but he wanted the information badly. Manjunatha could not take the piercing eyes of Anil anymore, and he focussed his attention on the two pieces of paper with telephone numbers written on them.
“Sorry to disturb your lunch, Sir, but I thought this is urgent.” She placed a card in front of him.
Manjunatha glanced on the card, and he almost choked on the rice he was chewing, as his throat went dry. It was from certain Nage Gowda from the Revenue Intelligence Department. A cold sweat came down on Manjunath, and in an instant he forgot all about Krishna Moorthy, and his impending visit. He could not even eat anymore of the food. He hurriedly cleared the table, and prepared to receive the visitors.
Manjunatha ran his business in a decent fashion by any standards. He made no compromise in the quality of his produce, and he made sure his accounts and other paperwork in order. But the rules and procedures of the country is built in such a way that it is impossible to comply with all of them. Especially if the official who enforces it has his own ideas about the rules.
Any visit from a government official was a problem for any businessman. It could only mean trouble, real or invented. With a sigh, he asked him to be sent in.
A giant of a man, with pitch dark skin, large bulging eyes and an un naturally dense foliage of hair entered the room, followed by a smaller, lean and fair man with a beard. The giant introduced himself as Nage Gowda, and the other man as Anil Nambiar, his colleague from another state. Then he shook hands with Manjunatha, almost crushing the little finger against his wedding ring. Mr. Nambiar just bowed. Manjunatha invited them to the chairs and remained standing, waiting them to sit down.
Even before settling the huge frame completely down into the chair, Gowda held out a slip of paper to Adiga and boomed. “Do you recognize this number?”. Manjunatha leaned forward and took the paper.
It was the very same number from which Krishna Moorthy called him earlier in the day.
“Yes, it is of my distributor Krishna Moorthy down in the south”. Manjunatha said in an uncertain tone. He was still standing, holding the piece of paper in his hand. He felt a bit relieved, thinking that it may be Moorthy, not him, who was in trouble. He awkwardly realized that he was standing, and sat down with a sigh.
“Krishna Moorthy? Are you sure about the name?” Asked Anil.
“Yes Sir. That is the name” Replied Adiga.
Gowda and Nambiar looked at each other.
“Is he also called Shenoy, by any chance?”
“No Sir. I never heard that name.”
Anil grabbed a post-it from the table and scribbled another number on it and showed to Adiga.
“Yes. This is his number also.” Adiga confirmed. He was now totally confused. He looked at the faces of the two men sitting in front of him. He leaned forward in an effort to ask something, but at the last minute gave it up and sat back.
Gowda and Anil again looked at each other.
“Well, Mr. Adiga, if you don’t mind, tell us what you know about this Krishna Moorthy.” Gowda did an attempt to sit back in the chair, but his body was already tight against the hand rests of the chair.
Anil Nambiar was not so relaxed, but he wanted the information badly. Manjunatha could not take the piercing eyes of Anil anymore, and he focussed his attention on the two pieces of paper with telephone numbers written on them.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
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Re: Spy Story
Manjunatha Adiga did not have much information about Krishna Moorthy. He approached a year and half ago with a request to buy stuff on behalf of some restaurants in the area. He had been buying regularly since then. Nothing abnormal, except todays request to cancel the orders and refund of money.
The mention of cancellation piqued their attention.
“What kind of money is involved?” Anil asked.
“I don’t remember exactly. Some 65 thousand and odd rupees in advance payments. He wanted to collect it when he comes here.” Adiga said matter of factly.
“Come here? When is he coming?”. The years on their job made them expertly hide the excitement.
Manjunath looked at the clock and said. “I told him 2:30. He should be here any time now.”
“OK, we are going to check your files on the dealings with him. Please let us know the moment he shows up.” Gowda said that with so much authority, that Manjunath could only nod.
He called his office manager to give the files to the visitors.
Anil and Gowda pored over the paperwork consisting of letters, invoices, shipping bills and sundry paperwork. All the papers were on letterheads of Moorthy & Co. They carried a mailing address and land line phone number for the concern.
Right away, Anil called his staff back in town to look at that address and the number.
The business that Mr. Adiga had been doing with Moorthy & co seemed to be genuine. They even went to the step of matching th eproduction records with the shipments and all tallied. They did it more to kill time while they waited for Krishna Moorthy, aka Shenoy to walk into their arms.
But that never happened. For whatever reason, he never showed up at Adiga’s office.
Once all the document search was over, Gowda and Anil came out of the office. They had a casual chat with the security guard. He told them that a taxi came, and a man who suit the description of Krishna Moorthy had got out, looked around, got back in and left without saying anything.
“We should have taken a taxi.” Gowda muttered in a tired voice too feeble for his frame. He was looking at his scorpio, with the customary red on white board of the government department proudly displayed on the bumper.
“At least you should have avoided that board.” Anil observed dryly.
Then both of them left as they came, leaving a totally confounded Manjunath behind.
The mention of cancellation piqued their attention.
“What kind of money is involved?” Anil asked.
“I don’t remember exactly. Some 65 thousand and odd rupees in advance payments. He wanted to collect it when he comes here.” Adiga said matter of factly.
“Come here? When is he coming?”. The years on their job made them expertly hide the excitement.
Manjunath looked at the clock and said. “I told him 2:30. He should be here any time now.”
“OK, we are going to check your files on the dealings with him. Please let us know the moment he shows up.” Gowda said that with so much authority, that Manjunath could only nod.
He called his office manager to give the files to the visitors.
Anil and Gowda pored over the paperwork consisting of letters, invoices, shipping bills and sundry paperwork. All the papers were on letterheads of Moorthy & Co. They carried a mailing address and land line phone number for the concern.
Right away, Anil called his staff back in town to look at that address and the number.
The business that Mr. Adiga had been doing with Moorthy & co seemed to be genuine. They even went to the step of matching th eproduction records with the shipments and all tallied. They did it more to kill time while they waited for Krishna Moorthy, aka Shenoy to walk into their arms.
But that never happened. For whatever reason, he never showed up at Adiga’s office.
Once all the document search was over, Gowda and Anil came out of the office. They had a casual chat with the security guard. He told them that a taxi came, and a man who suit the description of Krishna Moorthy had got out, looked around, got back in and left without saying anything.
“We should have taken a taxi.” Gowda muttered in a tired voice too feeble for his frame. He was looking at his scorpio, with the customary red on white board of the government department proudly displayed on the bumper.
“At least you should have avoided that board.” Anil observed dryly.
Then both of them left as they came, leaving a totally confounded Manjunath behind.
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Dileep
- BRF Oldie
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Re: Spy Story
Praveen cursed himself, as his feet dug into the filth on the road. The stench from the open sewer at the side of the road was unbearable. The road, if it can be called so, was covered in tarry black filth, and there was no way to walk around it. In no time the expensive branded shoes got covered in that. One side of the road is lined with ancient buildings that housed offices of freight forwarders and agents. Small trucks, and autos vied for space with the cargo boxes that overflowed into the road.
This was the backside of the harbour. Where the paperwork of the cargoes that came and went through the harbour was handled. The address of Moorthy & Co had been traced here, into one of the old rickety buildings. He had to make a few enquiries to get to the right building. It used to be a house, but now it is divided into small cubicle sized offices, which are generally occupied by freight agents. Praveen made enquiries among the tenants.
But no one there had heard about Krishna Moorthy or Moorthy associates. There was no Shenoy either. When Praveen tried to ask more questions, the situation started becoming a bit hostile. Questions like “who are you?” “What do you want” started flying in voices that were not at all friendly.
“Brother, I am looking for him, because he swindled me off some money. I made the money by selling the mangalsutra of my mother, and he.. he..” Praveen trailed off, as tears started to appear at the corner of his eyes. It took a moment for him to realize that his expensive shoes and clothes went a bit against this story he was developing, but since he was already into it, all he could do was to pray no one noticed.
“Why did you give him money?” One of them asked.
“He promised me a job at the port. I gave him 20,000 for bribing the officials. Now no job and no money. I can’t go back home without neither..” Praveen’s voice choked.
That got him some sympathy from the crowd.
“How does he look?” One of them asked.
Praveen thanked every god he ever knew, because Anil had sent him a description of Shenoy as he got from Manjunath. He gave it almost verbatim to the man.
“Would it be Krishna Bhatt?” One ventured.
“Are you sure his name is Moorthy?” Asked another.
"That is what he told me." Praveen said innocently. "Maybe it is his nickname. Which is hius office?"
Praveen was guided in into the labyrinth of cubicle sized offices.. He noticed that two of the rooms were locked. The rest occupied by people. One of the locked rooms were told to be of Mr. Bhatt. He could see the wire for the telephone going in over the wall made of plywood. The phone company linemen always took the easy way, just drawing the wire through whatever convenient way.
Praveen took his phone and dialled the land line number, with a faint hope for it to ring. He got the fault tone. “He must have kept it off hook. Must be a smart cookie” thought Praveen.
When he called in to Anil to report, Anil advised him to take any means to break in and see what he gets.
That night, the place was burglarized.
This was the backside of the harbour. Where the paperwork of the cargoes that came and went through the harbour was handled. The address of Moorthy & Co had been traced here, into one of the old rickety buildings. He had to make a few enquiries to get to the right building. It used to be a house, but now it is divided into small cubicle sized offices, which are generally occupied by freight agents. Praveen made enquiries among the tenants.
But no one there had heard about Krishna Moorthy or Moorthy associates. There was no Shenoy either. When Praveen tried to ask more questions, the situation started becoming a bit hostile. Questions like “who are you?” “What do you want” started flying in voices that were not at all friendly.
“Brother, I am looking for him, because he swindled me off some money. I made the money by selling the mangalsutra of my mother, and he.. he..” Praveen trailed off, as tears started to appear at the corner of his eyes. It took a moment for him to realize that his expensive shoes and clothes went a bit against this story he was developing, but since he was already into it, all he could do was to pray no one noticed.
“Why did you give him money?” One of them asked.
“He promised me a job at the port. I gave him 20,000 for bribing the officials. Now no job and no money. I can’t go back home without neither..” Praveen’s voice choked.
That got him some sympathy from the crowd.
“How does he look?” One of them asked.
Praveen thanked every god he ever knew, because Anil had sent him a description of Shenoy as he got from Manjunath. He gave it almost verbatim to the man.
“Would it be Krishna Bhatt?” One ventured.
“Are you sure his name is Moorthy?” Asked another.
"That is what he told me." Praveen said innocently. "Maybe it is his nickname. Which is hius office?"
Praveen was guided in into the labyrinth of cubicle sized offices.. He noticed that two of the rooms were locked. The rest occupied by people. One of the locked rooms were told to be of Mr. Bhatt. He could see the wire for the telephone going in over the wall made of plywood. The phone company linemen always took the easy way, just drawing the wire through whatever convenient way.
Praveen took his phone and dialled the land line number, with a faint hope for it to ring. He got the fault tone. “He must have kept it off hook. Must be a smart cookie” thought Praveen.
When he called in to Anil to report, Anil advised him to take any means to break in and see what he gets.
That night, the place was burglarized.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
“What will we call him Sir?” John had a valid question. “He already gave us three names.”
They were sitting around the dining table at Nage Gowda’s home, enjoying the idlis and sambar. Mrs Gowda had made two types of chutneys as a special for the guests. But wondered why the guests didn’t even touch it. These malayalis like the stench of coconut oil alone, she thought.
“The one with thousand names, is Narayana” Nage Gowda said, as he pushed half an iddly into his cavernous mouth.
“We will use the first one, Shenoy” Anil said as he dunked the idli into sambar. He was expert in the technique of eating idli with two spoons. John observed that, while he did the traditional technique of crushing the iddli with the sambar.
“I would bet the next name is going to be ‘Kamath’” John said with a chuckle.
No one else picked that up.
They were tired after an almost sleepless night. They spent hours at the office, working remotely with the team back home. Nage Gowda stayed on for some time, but after midnight, went home to catch some sleep. But he was a good host. He sent the car to pick them up to have breakfast at his home.
The strong coffee, specially sent from his in-laws from Coorg was the highlight of the fare. The sleepiness vanished almost instantly. Anil wholeheartedly thanked Gowda for that, while placing a restrictive hand on John's back to pre-empt his customary coffee sermon. John grunted into submission, not before asking if Gowda could spare him some coffee beans to take home when all these crazy business is over.
Mrs. Gowda, in a display of the traditional Coorgi hospitality, right away produced a bag of the precious produce for John. He profoundly thanked her, and later praised her generosity to Anil. He could not, however, miss to wonder how such a nice and beautiful woman from Coorg ended up with a black giant like Gowda.
“I know love is blind, but now I realized that it is insensitive to gravity as well”, he quipped.
The team was glad that the night operation at Shenoy’s office went without a hitch. In those parts of the city, no one really cared even if a whole building is demolished at night. Everything that was found in the small room were taken. All loaded into a truck and taken to the office. Inspector Ajith was informed in advance, and he made sure that the incident was taken care officially.
They had got nothing much from the haul. It was obvious that a lot of the stuff had been removed recently. The top of the table and the open cupboard on the side shown clear signs of being emptied recently. Some old newspapers, magazines and old telephone directories from the BSNL were all they got. The phone was left there, with the receiver off-hook. It was indeed the same land line phone that showed up in the invoices.
Back at the office, the team meticulously pored through the junk. Years of dust and cobwebs came off the papers, as they worked with their noses covered with towels. Each of the newspapers and magazines are carefully checked and stacked away. Each of the telephone directories were checked for anything inside.
After the search, all they found were a small wad of papers held with a paperclip. It contained copies of purchase orders made by two restaurants in 2007.
One was an order for 25 kilograms of Parmesan cheese from “Mancini’s”, and the other was for soya and chilly sauces from “The Chengdu”. The address and contact information of those concerns were also there in the orders.
They were sitting around the dining table at Nage Gowda’s home, enjoying the idlis and sambar. Mrs Gowda had made two types of chutneys as a special for the guests. But wondered why the guests didn’t even touch it. These malayalis like the stench of coconut oil alone, she thought.
“The one with thousand names, is Narayana” Nage Gowda said, as he pushed half an iddly into his cavernous mouth.
“We will use the first one, Shenoy” Anil said as he dunked the idli into sambar. He was expert in the technique of eating idli with two spoons. John observed that, while he did the traditional technique of crushing the iddli with the sambar.
“I would bet the next name is going to be ‘Kamath’” John said with a chuckle.
No one else picked that up.
They were tired after an almost sleepless night. They spent hours at the office, working remotely with the team back home. Nage Gowda stayed on for some time, but after midnight, went home to catch some sleep. But he was a good host. He sent the car to pick them up to have breakfast at his home.
The strong coffee, specially sent from his in-laws from Coorg was the highlight of the fare. The sleepiness vanished almost instantly. Anil wholeheartedly thanked Gowda for that, while placing a restrictive hand on John's back to pre-empt his customary coffee sermon. John grunted into submission, not before asking if Gowda could spare him some coffee beans to take home when all these crazy business is over.
Mrs. Gowda, in a display of the traditional Coorgi hospitality, right away produced a bag of the precious produce for John. He profoundly thanked her, and later praised her generosity to Anil. He could not, however, miss to wonder how such a nice and beautiful woman from Coorg ended up with a black giant like Gowda.
“I know love is blind, but now I realized that it is insensitive to gravity as well”, he quipped.
The team was glad that the night operation at Shenoy’s office went without a hitch. In those parts of the city, no one really cared even if a whole building is demolished at night. Everything that was found in the small room were taken. All loaded into a truck and taken to the office. Inspector Ajith was informed in advance, and he made sure that the incident was taken care officially.
They had got nothing much from the haul. It was obvious that a lot of the stuff had been removed recently. The top of the table and the open cupboard on the side shown clear signs of being emptied recently. Some old newspapers, magazines and old telephone directories from the BSNL were all they got. The phone was left there, with the receiver off-hook. It was indeed the same land line phone that showed up in the invoices.
Back at the office, the team meticulously pored through the junk. Years of dust and cobwebs came off the papers, as they worked with their noses covered with towels. Each of the newspapers and magazines are carefully checked and stacked away. Each of the telephone directories were checked for anything inside.
After the search, all they found were a small wad of papers held with a paperclip. It contained copies of purchase orders made by two restaurants in 2007.
One was an order for 25 kilograms of Parmesan cheese from “Mancini’s”, and the other was for soya and chilly sauces from “The Chengdu”. The address and contact information of those concerns were also there in the orders.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
Giovanni Mancini was a well known figure in the tourism and hospitality business in the city. He ran Mancini’s, an authentic Italian restaurant at the old city area where the tourists flocked to. Giovanni was a trained chef from the Gianni Brera culinary school. After aprenticeship at a couple of restaurants in Milan, he took a sabatical to see the world. He fell in love with the city, and when he learned that there are no italian restaurant there, decided to start one himself.
Till Mancini’s opened, the only choice of Italian food in the city were a limited repertoire of pastas and soups, served at the star hotels. This was before the pizza chains came into the city. Giovanni began with his authentic and simple dishes, which became an instant hit among the tourists. Slowly, the locals, who was under the impression that Italian food means half cooked noodles drenched in stinky sour sauce, had also realized that toasted bread, with a light coating of olive oil and herbs, could be heavenly in taste.
It was a small setup. There were only six tables that seats thirty in total. Giovanni himself cooked the food and served. Since there was no reservations, people waited patiently in front of the door, which was a sight not so common in the city.
It was 4:00pm by the time Praveen reached Mancini’s. The place closed at 3:00pm after lunch, and opened for dinner at 6:00pm only. The kitchen, however was busy, and the pleasant smells of baking, olive oil and herbs were wafting into the street. Praveen went to the front door and knocked. The old man who opened the door instantly realized that he was not a customer. So, he asked him what he wants.
“I would like to meet Mr. Mancini” Praveen said, while passing a peep into the back of the dining area, beyond the door to the kitchen.
“Mr. Giovanni is busy right now.” The man said. “What is the matter?” The local language didn’t have phrases of courtesy, like “please”.
“I am from the Intelligence Bureau. I want to meet Mr. Mancini” Praveen used the harsh matter of fact tone practiced by the men of the trade. The expression on the man’s face changed instantly. He opened the door widely, and invited Praveen inside. He asked him to sit down on the single sofa in the waiting area, excused himself, and went inside to get Giovanni.
Giovanni came in, in an apron and chef’s hat. His hands were freshly washed, but you could see flour and dough sticking to the apron, areas above his elbow. He had come in a hurry. He was a tall man, with a wide smile and a loud voice, typical to Italians. He walked straight to Praveen with extended hand and the friendliest of smiles.
“Hello. I am Giovanni Mancini. What can I do for you Sir?” The booming italian accent sung out.
“I am Praveen Kumar from IB. I need to talk to you.” Praveen said, keeping in character.
“Am I in trouble” Giovanni asked with a nervous smile. Then he invited Praveen to the inside, where he had his office. Praveen did not answer that question.
“Do you know this guy?” Praveen produced the order copy made to Moorthy & Co, found from Shenoy’s office.
Giovanni looked at the paper and frowned a bit. “Yes, Yes, Moorthy & Co. I have bought cheese from him once” He said while drawing circles with his index finger on the paper.
“Only once? Why”
“I normally import my cheese from Italy. It is very expensive, so when I heard about his cheese company, I thought I will try his product for the cooking purpose. To reduce cost”
“Cooking purpose?” Praveen asked.
“Yes. We use cheese for different purposes in Italian cuisine. You need the top quality cheese for garnishing and for salads. But to make sauces, where the flavour of the cheese is not so important, you can use the lesser variety.”
“You found the cheese not good enough?” Praveen enquired.
“No. The cheese was not bad initially, when we started using it. But I got complaints about the Alfredo sauce tasting funny, and found that the cheese had started to go bad. Parmegiano shouldn't go bad like that, so thereafter I used only the imported cheese.”
The man who earlier opened the door came in, with two glasses of Capuccino and a plate of Biscotti. The biscotti were warm to the touch. The sweet smell of pecan nuts filled the air. Praveen instinctively held out his hand to pick one.
“Fresh from the oven.” Encouraged Mancini. Praveen took one and bit into it. The crisp and crumbling mass melted in the mouth, releasing the rich flavour of caramel and pecans.
“You had no contact with him after that?” Praveen enquired.
“Well, he called me a few times later to see if there are any repeat orders. I declined.”
“Do you have any files or papers on him?”
“I need to check. Not sure if they were thrown away”. Giovanni opened the small shelf on the side and started looking through.
Praveen went back to the Capuccino and Biscotti. “Should have come at dinner time” he thought.
After a few minutes of search, Giovanni produced an old dog eared file folder with the name “Moorthy & Co” on the front.
There waa nothing inside that could help Praveen.
Till Mancini’s opened, the only choice of Italian food in the city were a limited repertoire of pastas and soups, served at the star hotels. This was before the pizza chains came into the city. Giovanni began with his authentic and simple dishes, which became an instant hit among the tourists. Slowly, the locals, who was under the impression that Italian food means half cooked noodles drenched in stinky sour sauce, had also realized that toasted bread, with a light coating of olive oil and herbs, could be heavenly in taste.
It was a small setup. There were only six tables that seats thirty in total. Giovanni himself cooked the food and served. Since there was no reservations, people waited patiently in front of the door, which was a sight not so common in the city.
It was 4:00pm by the time Praveen reached Mancini’s. The place closed at 3:00pm after lunch, and opened for dinner at 6:00pm only. The kitchen, however was busy, and the pleasant smells of baking, olive oil and herbs were wafting into the street. Praveen went to the front door and knocked. The old man who opened the door instantly realized that he was not a customer. So, he asked him what he wants.
“I would like to meet Mr. Mancini” Praveen said, while passing a peep into the back of the dining area, beyond the door to the kitchen.
“Mr. Giovanni is busy right now.” The man said. “What is the matter?” The local language didn’t have phrases of courtesy, like “please”.
“I am from the Intelligence Bureau. I want to meet Mr. Mancini” Praveen used the harsh matter of fact tone practiced by the men of the trade. The expression on the man’s face changed instantly. He opened the door widely, and invited Praveen inside. He asked him to sit down on the single sofa in the waiting area, excused himself, and went inside to get Giovanni.
Giovanni came in, in an apron and chef’s hat. His hands were freshly washed, but you could see flour and dough sticking to the apron, areas above his elbow. He had come in a hurry. He was a tall man, with a wide smile and a loud voice, typical to Italians. He walked straight to Praveen with extended hand and the friendliest of smiles.
“Hello. I am Giovanni Mancini. What can I do for you Sir?” The booming italian accent sung out.
“I am Praveen Kumar from IB. I need to talk to you.” Praveen said, keeping in character.
“Am I in trouble” Giovanni asked with a nervous smile. Then he invited Praveen to the inside, where he had his office. Praveen did not answer that question.
“Do you know this guy?” Praveen produced the order copy made to Moorthy & Co, found from Shenoy’s office.
Giovanni looked at the paper and frowned a bit. “Yes, Yes, Moorthy & Co. I have bought cheese from him once” He said while drawing circles with his index finger on the paper.
“Only once? Why”
“I normally import my cheese from Italy. It is very expensive, so when I heard about his cheese company, I thought I will try his product for the cooking purpose. To reduce cost”
“Cooking purpose?” Praveen asked.
“Yes. We use cheese for different purposes in Italian cuisine. You need the top quality cheese for garnishing and for salads. But to make sauces, where the flavour of the cheese is not so important, you can use the lesser variety.”
“You found the cheese not good enough?” Praveen enquired.
“No. The cheese was not bad initially, when we started using it. But I got complaints about the Alfredo sauce tasting funny, and found that the cheese had started to go bad. Parmegiano shouldn't go bad like that, so thereafter I used only the imported cheese.”
The man who earlier opened the door came in, with two glasses of Capuccino and a plate of Biscotti. The biscotti were warm to the touch. The sweet smell of pecan nuts filled the air. Praveen instinctively held out his hand to pick one.
“Fresh from the oven.” Encouraged Mancini. Praveen took one and bit into it. The crisp and crumbling mass melted in the mouth, releasing the rich flavour of caramel and pecans.
“You had no contact with him after that?” Praveen enquired.
“Well, he called me a few times later to see if there are any repeat orders. I declined.”
“Do you have any files or papers on him?”
“I need to check. Not sure if they were thrown away”. Giovanni opened the small shelf on the side and started looking through.
Praveen went back to the Capuccino and Biscotti. “Should have come at dinner time” he thought.
After a few minutes of search, Giovanni produced an old dog eared file folder with the name “Moorthy & Co” on the front.
There waa nothing inside that could help Praveen.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
“The Chengdu” was a hour drive away from Mancini’s, as the road went around the lake, and crossed two bridges. The evening commute didn’t help a bit either, even though Praveen wasa riding a motorbike. It was a bigger establishment, in a stand alone building. It was an old tile roofed building. Careful addition of bamboo logs gave a ‘chinese’ ness to the place. Paper lanterns and the customary fat man statue and pots of lucky bamboos were also formed the decoration.
It was a schezwan speciality place, named after the capital city of the province. But neither the owner Huang Wei was from that area, nor the foods were anywhere near the namesake cuisine. Huang was not a chef by trade. He was a businessman restauranteur. He did not come out to the kitchen or dining area, nor take part in any of the activities. He just ran the place. And he did it well.
When Praveen reached there, the dinner hour was just starting. Even though he mentioned that he is from the IB, it took almost half an hour for Mr. Wei to be available to see him. He was ushered into Wei’s private office via a side entrance.
The room was spacious, and decorated with a taste that is overtly chinese. Every file cabinet had a lucky bamboo pot on top. Various astrological artifacts were placed at strategic locattions. Even the bamboo wall hangings had chinese caligraphy.
Huang Wei was a small man in his early fifties. He had an Indian passport, and he claimed that his ancestors migrated to India generations ago. He spoke Hindi and English very well, albeit with heavy chinese accent, and understood conversation in the local language. Praveen found him sitting behind his table, as he entered the rather dimly lit room.
“Welcome. What can I do for you?” Asked Wei. He did not raise from his chair.
“I am Praveen Kumar from IB.” Praveen added a bit of gruff to his demeanor.
“IB, eh? Can I see some ID please.” Praveen was a bit surprised on the arrogance of the man.
Praveen gave him the ID. Operatives of his organization carried real ID cards of various organizations and departments as convenient for the task at hand. Wei gazed at it for a minute, as if expecting it to burst into flames by the power from his eyes. He then gave the card back to Praveen with a shrug.
“What can I do for you Mr. Parveen?” Wei asked again.
“Do you know this guy?” Praveen pushed the order copy in front of Wei.
“No.” Was the simple answer from Wei.
“Look again. Isn’t this a purchase order from your restaurant?” Praveen was a bit taken aback by the response and manners of the man.
“It looks like it is.” Said Wei.
“You said you don’t know the man”. Praveen was getting a bit angry.
“That is correct. I don’t know the man”.
“But you buy stuff from him”. Praveen insisted.
“Well, the order says so.” Wei was unmoved.
Praveen lost his words for a moment.
“Are you still buying sruff from him?” He asked after a moment.
“I don’t know”. Wei was still unmoved.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Praveen wanted to shout, but he controlled himself.
“I don’t make the purchases myself. My office does that” Wei said matter of factly.
Praveen wanted to break the mans neck.
“Look Mr. Wei. I need information on this man Moorthy. I need whatever details you have” Praveen again controlled himself with great effort.
“YOU need information!. That is YOUR problem, not mine” Wei said nonchalantly.
“This is an investigation.” Praveen began.
“Look here, young man. You barge in into my office, flash a fake identification card, and demand information. That is not going to fly here. Get back to the den where you came from” Wei said with a sarcastic smile.
Praveen completely lost himself.
“You will see if my ID is real or fake soon, and you will regret.” Praveen was almost shaking when he said that. With remarkable effort, he controlled himself, rose and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Something like a laugh came out of Wei, as he went back to the file lying in front of him.
Praveen got out of the building and dialled the number of Inspector Ajith.
It was a schezwan speciality place, named after the capital city of the province. But neither the owner Huang Wei was from that area, nor the foods were anywhere near the namesake cuisine. Huang was not a chef by trade. He was a businessman restauranteur. He did not come out to the kitchen or dining area, nor take part in any of the activities. He just ran the place. And he did it well.
When Praveen reached there, the dinner hour was just starting. Even though he mentioned that he is from the IB, it took almost half an hour for Mr. Wei to be available to see him. He was ushered into Wei’s private office via a side entrance.
The room was spacious, and decorated with a taste that is overtly chinese. Every file cabinet had a lucky bamboo pot on top. Various astrological artifacts were placed at strategic locattions. Even the bamboo wall hangings had chinese caligraphy.
Huang Wei was a small man in his early fifties. He had an Indian passport, and he claimed that his ancestors migrated to India generations ago. He spoke Hindi and English very well, albeit with heavy chinese accent, and understood conversation in the local language. Praveen found him sitting behind his table, as he entered the rather dimly lit room.
“Welcome. What can I do for you?” Asked Wei. He did not raise from his chair.
“I am Praveen Kumar from IB.” Praveen added a bit of gruff to his demeanor.
“IB, eh? Can I see some ID please.” Praveen was a bit surprised on the arrogance of the man.
Praveen gave him the ID. Operatives of his organization carried real ID cards of various organizations and departments as convenient for the task at hand. Wei gazed at it for a minute, as if expecting it to burst into flames by the power from his eyes. He then gave the card back to Praveen with a shrug.
“What can I do for you Mr. Parveen?” Wei asked again.
“Do you know this guy?” Praveen pushed the order copy in front of Wei.
“No.” Was the simple answer from Wei.
“Look again. Isn’t this a purchase order from your restaurant?” Praveen was a bit taken aback by the response and manners of the man.
“It looks like it is.” Said Wei.
“You said you don’t know the man”. Praveen was getting a bit angry.
“That is correct. I don’t know the man”.
“But you buy stuff from him”. Praveen insisted.
“Well, the order says so.” Wei was unmoved.
Praveen lost his words for a moment.
“Are you still buying sruff from him?” He asked after a moment.
“I don’t know”. Wei was still unmoved.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Praveen wanted to shout, but he controlled himself.
“I don’t make the purchases myself. My office does that” Wei said matter of factly.
Praveen wanted to break the mans neck.
“Look Mr. Wei. I need information on this man Moorthy. I need whatever details you have” Praveen again controlled himself with great effort.
“YOU need information!. That is YOUR problem, not mine” Wei said nonchalantly.
“This is an investigation.” Praveen began.
“Look here, young man. You barge in into my office, flash a fake identification card, and demand information. That is not going to fly here. Get back to the den where you came from” Wei said with a sarcastic smile.
Praveen completely lost himself.
“You will see if my ID is real or fake soon, and you will regret.” Praveen was almost shaking when he said that. With remarkable effort, he controlled himself, rose and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Something like a laugh came out of Wei, as he went back to the file lying in front of him.
Praveen got out of the building and dialled the number of Inspector Ajith.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
It was around 10 PM in the night. The streets had started to be empty, as shops closed. Only eateries had some movements and cars parked in front of him. A quarter of the tables were still occupied at The Chengdu. The movement of the waiters had taken the sign of weariness seen towards the end of the shift. The mixed smells of burning soy sauce and the pungent vapours of chillies had made the air arpund the place dense. As the sounds dies down from the shopping area beyond, one could hear the little waves of the backwaters crashing on the stone barriers.
The quiet of the street is suddenly broken by wailing sirens and the bright flashes of red and blue lights. The roar of high powered turbocharged diesel engines filled the air, as one by one, four scorpio SUVs, in the red stripes on white pattern of the city police came around the curve of the main road. They took a sharp turn into the short driveway of The Chendu and came to a screeching halt right abutt the front entrance of the place. The doors opened and a bunch of cops jumped out and fanned around he building. As the diners panicked the the staff froze in confusion, Inspector Ajith Kumar and Praveen jumped out of the car in front and ran towards the office through the side entrance.
Wei was still at his office. He hadn't recovered from the surprise created by all the commotion, when Ajith grabbed him by the collar and bodily lifted him up from the chair, and slammed him onto the top of his table. We felt his back is broken.
“Wha..? Wha...? What?” was the only thing Wei could utter among the confusion.
A string of the worst swear words of the local language came out of Ajith’s mouth. Even Praveen felt a bit embarassed. Ajith finished wit the question “You want ID from the IB officer, right?”
Wei had got some of his breath back by then.
“Mind your words, officer. Do you have a warrant to barge into my office?” Wei began.
“Warrant? You want warrant? I will give you warrant”. Ajith yanked his collar down, making him stoop down. In one swift motion, he pushed the back of his neck down with his left hand and raised his right elbow to slam down down. Praveen moved quickly and blocked the move, with a simple, but firm “No Sir.” Ajith stopped in half motion, paused for a moment in that position, and then let go.
Ajith left the hold on Wei and faced him. “This is Mr. Praveen Kumar, Inspector from IB. You better answer his questions, or I will make you.”
“I know all your superior officers in this city, Mr. Inspector. You are not going to get away with this.” Wei was still adamant, even though he was sitting in a slumped position on the table. His throat and chest still hurt where Ajith grabbed him.
“So, you want this the hard way? Right?” Ajith asked him. “Mr. Huang Wei, you are under arrest for obstructing an investigation. Come with me”. He held onto the shoulder of Wei as required by the ancient procedure code to effect the arrest.
“Arrest me? For what? A silly inspector can’t arrest me! I will get your cap off” Wei babbled hysterically, and tried to push Ajith away. In a deft move Ajith turned him around and handcuffed him.
A couple of constables came in and took Wei away. Ajith phoned the station back and asked the duty in-charge to immediately make the arrest memo, and lock the man up. He very well knew that he will have to release him in the morning.
With Wei removed from the scene, Praveen and colleagues could do all the searches they want on the place.
The policemen took the chance to get the chef to cook a nice dinner for all of them. They went for the local staples of fried rice and various types of chicken.
It was almost morning when Praveen got back to the office with a bundle of papers.
The quiet of the street is suddenly broken by wailing sirens and the bright flashes of red and blue lights. The roar of high powered turbocharged diesel engines filled the air, as one by one, four scorpio SUVs, in the red stripes on white pattern of the city police came around the curve of the main road. They took a sharp turn into the short driveway of The Chendu and came to a screeching halt right abutt the front entrance of the place. The doors opened and a bunch of cops jumped out and fanned around he building. As the diners panicked the the staff froze in confusion, Inspector Ajith Kumar and Praveen jumped out of the car in front and ran towards the office through the side entrance.
Wei was still at his office. He hadn't recovered from the surprise created by all the commotion, when Ajith grabbed him by the collar and bodily lifted him up from the chair, and slammed him onto the top of his table. We felt his back is broken.
“Wha..? Wha...? What?” was the only thing Wei could utter among the confusion.
A string of the worst swear words of the local language came out of Ajith’s mouth. Even Praveen felt a bit embarassed. Ajith finished wit the question “You want ID from the IB officer, right?”
Wei had got some of his breath back by then.
“Mind your words, officer. Do you have a warrant to barge into my office?” Wei began.
“Warrant? You want warrant? I will give you warrant”. Ajith yanked his collar down, making him stoop down. In one swift motion, he pushed the back of his neck down with his left hand and raised his right elbow to slam down down. Praveen moved quickly and blocked the move, with a simple, but firm “No Sir.” Ajith stopped in half motion, paused for a moment in that position, and then let go.
Ajith left the hold on Wei and faced him. “This is Mr. Praveen Kumar, Inspector from IB. You better answer his questions, or I will make you.”
“I know all your superior officers in this city, Mr. Inspector. You are not going to get away with this.” Wei was still adamant, even though he was sitting in a slumped position on the table. His throat and chest still hurt where Ajith grabbed him.
“So, you want this the hard way? Right?” Ajith asked him. “Mr. Huang Wei, you are under arrest for obstructing an investigation. Come with me”. He held onto the shoulder of Wei as required by the ancient procedure code to effect the arrest.
“Arrest me? For what? A silly inspector can’t arrest me! I will get your cap off” Wei babbled hysterically, and tried to push Ajith away. In a deft move Ajith turned him around and handcuffed him.
A couple of constables came in and took Wei away. Ajith phoned the station back and asked the duty in-charge to immediately make the arrest memo, and lock the man up. He very well knew that he will have to release him in the morning.
With Wei removed from the scene, Praveen and colleagues could do all the searches they want on the place.
The policemen took the chance to get the chef to cook a nice dinner for all of them. They went for the local staples of fried rice and various types of chicken.
It was almost morning when Praveen got back to the office with a bundle of papers.
-
Dileep
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Re: Spy Story
The bundle of papers did not yield much. There was the supplier file on Moorthy & Co, And copies of the ledgers and stock books that dealt with his business. The Chengdu used to buy sauces from Moorthy for some time. There were purchase orders, invoices and cash transactions. After a few months, the logistics seemed to change. The orders were places on certain Laxmi Impex in Chennai, with a commission account for Krishna Moorthy. All orders were for various kinds of sauces used in the business. The commission was being paid by Laxmi Impex directly to Krishna Moorthy.
This was a bit strange. This is normally not done. A distributor always kept himself in the logistics chain, and if a customer try to byepass the distributor, there will be severe penalties in the goodwill side. Here it was apparent that Wei just did that, and Moorthy was kept paid for each lot. Moreover, it was evident that Wei kept careful watch over this transaction. He seemed to be intent on keeping Moorthy happy.
It was already 3:30 in the morning, everyone was tired. But Praveen, with all the might of the training on his previous jobs, kept going. He excused himself, and leaving Arjun and Ramcharan in the hall, went to the kitchen to get some coffee. His heavy footsteps could be heard walking around the kitchen, as he went through the process of making the right brew.
When he came back to the hall, with a cup of steaming coffee, he found both the young men nodding off over a sheet of paper each. He looked at them disgustingly, and walked to the window to look out over the deserted road outside. Suddenly he turned and walked to Arjun, and shook him awake.
“Sleepy, eh?” He asked to the bewildered face of Arjun. The harsh voice woek up Ramcharan as well, who, for a moment seemed not to realize where he was.
“Some hight air would do you good. Come, let us go.” He urged Arjun.
“Go, Where sir?” It took Arjun a moment to shake the sleep off.
“Gulp some coffee down if you want. We are going back to Chengdu.” Praveen barked.
“Chengdu? Is there anyone, Sir?” Arjun was still a bit confounded.
“There will be police there till the morning. Come, let us go. I want the file on Laxmi Impex”. Praveen had already started walking out.
The Pulsar 220 roared to life, and went like a streak of light on the deserted highway. Ramcharan watched it from the window, yawned, and went to a bedroom to get some sleep.
This was a bit strange. This is normally not done. A distributor always kept himself in the logistics chain, and if a customer try to byepass the distributor, there will be severe penalties in the goodwill side. Here it was apparent that Wei just did that, and Moorthy was kept paid for each lot. Moreover, it was evident that Wei kept careful watch over this transaction. He seemed to be intent on keeping Moorthy happy.
It was already 3:30 in the morning, everyone was tired. But Praveen, with all the might of the training on his previous jobs, kept going. He excused himself, and leaving Arjun and Ramcharan in the hall, went to the kitchen to get some coffee. His heavy footsteps could be heard walking around the kitchen, as he went through the process of making the right brew.
When he came back to the hall, with a cup of steaming coffee, he found both the young men nodding off over a sheet of paper each. He looked at them disgustingly, and walked to the window to look out over the deserted road outside. Suddenly he turned and walked to Arjun, and shook him awake.
“Sleepy, eh?” He asked to the bewildered face of Arjun. The harsh voice woek up Ramcharan as well, who, for a moment seemed not to realize where he was.
“Some hight air would do you good. Come, let us go.” He urged Arjun.
“Go, Where sir?” It took Arjun a moment to shake the sleep off.
“Gulp some coffee down if you want. We are going back to Chengdu.” Praveen barked.
“Chengdu? Is there anyone, Sir?” Arjun was still a bit confounded.
“There will be police there till the morning. Come, let us go. I want the file on Laxmi Impex”. Praveen had already started walking out.
The Pulsar 220 roared to life, and went like a streak of light on the deserted highway. Ramcharan watched it from the window, yawned, and went to a bedroom to get some sleep.
Re: Spy Story
Dileep,
I appreciate your sincerity in posting atleast a couple of scenarios everyday.
Thank you very much.
Cheers,
Mihir.
I appreciate your sincerity in posting atleast a couple of scenarios everyday.
Thank you very much.
Cheers,
Mihir.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
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Re: Spy Story
The two policemen were asleep, sitting in a plastic garden chair in front of the old tiled building of The Chengdu. Even the roar of the Pulsar didn't wake them. Praveen had to shake them violently to get some response. The reeked of alcohol, and it took some effort to raise them. Even when they did, the first words that came from their mouth was some choice adjectives.
Praveen had to literally drag them up to make them open Wei's room again. Once Praveen and Arjun went to work inside, both the policemen went back to sleep in the chairs.
It didn't take much time to locate the files on Laxmi Impex. The only business Wei did with them was about the sauces, so there was not much of paperwork to scan. There were the regular wads of orders, invoices and shipping documentation, interspersed with communication memos as well.
One of the memos drew Praveen's attention.
“What do you figure of this numbers, Arjun?” Praveen asked. He was looking at what seemed like a report on payment advises sent from Laxmi Impex to Chengdu. The name of Moorthy & Co was there in the title, so they assumed they are commission payments. The table seemed to be an export from an electronic statement from a bank.
“Looks like a bank statement to me” Arjun said, and shrugged off the dirty look from Praveen. My bank does them like that.
“No. What does those numbers mean? Praveen pointed to one of the lines which said:
“I think the first set is the bank code, and the second set is the account number.” Arjun ventured.
“If it is, then the account should belong to our Moorthy. We need to explore that further”. Praveen said with a wide grin.
They will have to wait till daybreak to figure that.
Praveen had to literally drag them up to make them open Wei's room again. Once Praveen and Arjun went to work inside, both the policemen went back to sleep in the chairs.
It didn't take much time to locate the files on Laxmi Impex. The only business Wei did with them was about the sauces, so there was not much of paperwork to scan. There were the regular wads of orders, invoices and shipping documentation, interspersed with communication memos as well.
One of the memos drew Praveen's attention.
“What do you figure of this numbers, Arjun?” Praveen asked. He was looking at what seemed like a report on payment advises sent from Laxmi Impex to Chengdu. The name of Moorthy & Co was there in the title, so they assumed they are commission payments. The table seemed to be an export from an electronic statement from a bank.
“Looks like a bank statement to me” Arjun said, and shrugged off the dirty look from Praveen. My bank does them like that.
“No. What does those numbers mean? Praveen pointed to one of the lines which said:
Code: Select all
NEFT01276-CR0110246000345-MOOR 14,564.00
“If it is, then the account should belong to our Moorthy. We need to explore that further”. Praveen said with a wide grin.
They will have to wait till daybreak to figure that.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
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Re: Spy Story
“He made an ATM withdrawal at Tatapudi in Andhra Pradesh!” Anil Nambiar turned his face away from the phone ans announced with a wide grin.
John's hands instinctively began punching up the satellite map of the town on his laptop. “Which one Sir?” He asked.
“SBI's. Location should be on NH5” Anil read out from the screen of the phone.
He had to wake his friend in Delhi who was a bank manager to decode the fund transfer code. He then used the agency's liaison with the RBI's intelligence operations to get the account information on the target account. It was in the name of Krishna Moorthy, with the harbour branch of Millenium Bank. A full statement of transactions on that account came in the secured e-mail soon after.
“NH-5? To Kolkatta?” Asked Nage Gowda.
“Looks like it. The earlier target also is hooked up there” Anil explained.
“What do we do? He should be on the road” Lamented Gowda.
“Anil Sir, see if the RIS can access the security camera at the ATM” John suggested.
The ATMs always had cameras recording the users for every transaction. If the user is known, it is possible to grab a picture from the database.
“At least we will get an updated photo of his.” Anil said in a resigned tone. They already had his photo used to open the account, as well as his PAN card photo. But they are likely to be old.
It didn't take too much time for the photograph to come through. The photos from the ATMs are of low resolution. The primary function of them is the keep a record of the person who did the transaction. The use a small aperture wide angle lens which gives a funny looking distortion to the edges of the image. The face of the user will normally be in the centre, so it will be identifiable. In the current case also, the face was identifiable, and showed that the person is the same one as in the bank records.
But a photo doesn't give much chance of apprehending the man on the run. The only way, as Nage Gowda pointed out, would be a vehicle to vehicle search on the NH. But even that doesn't guarantee anything, the logistical nightmare notwithstanding.
Anil had resigned to fate, and started to debate the backup plans, like tightening the surveillance on the known tags in Kolkata, when John brought his laptop to him.
On the screen, there was an enlarged version of the ATM photo, except that it looked like the image from a badly adjusted TV set. The man's face was not at all clear in the image. Anil couldn't make anything out of it.
“What is it John?” His frustration came out as a tinge of impatience in his voice.
“Look in the background, Sir” John insisted.
“What is in the background.” Anil couldn't discern anything
“Look here” John clicked a selection tool at a certain point on the background that looked like a shapeless object. An outline appeared, overlapping the man's face in the foreground.
“The front grill of a car!” Anil said, without much excitement.
“It is a Scorpio, with hood mounted mirrors and a fake turbo air scoop” John explained.
“So?” Asked Nage Gowda.
“Get the full sequence of the images from RIS. I believe he came in that car.” John said, in the matter of fact tone he normally used to de-emphasise his excitement.
With just a smile breaking through the corner of his mouth, Anil sent the request from his phone.
John's hands instinctively began punching up the satellite map of the town on his laptop. “Which one Sir?” He asked.
“SBI's. Location should be on NH5” Anil read out from the screen of the phone.
He had to wake his friend in Delhi who was a bank manager to decode the fund transfer code. He then used the agency's liaison with the RBI's intelligence operations to get the account information on the target account. It was in the name of Krishna Moorthy, with the harbour branch of Millenium Bank. A full statement of transactions on that account came in the secured e-mail soon after.
“NH-5? To Kolkatta?” Asked Nage Gowda.
“Looks like it. The earlier target also is hooked up there” Anil explained.
“What do we do? He should be on the road” Lamented Gowda.
“Anil Sir, see if the RIS can access the security camera at the ATM” John suggested.
The ATMs always had cameras recording the users for every transaction. If the user is known, it is possible to grab a picture from the database.
“At least we will get an updated photo of his.” Anil said in a resigned tone. They already had his photo used to open the account, as well as his PAN card photo. But they are likely to be old.
It didn't take too much time for the photograph to come through. The photos from the ATMs are of low resolution. The primary function of them is the keep a record of the person who did the transaction. The use a small aperture wide angle lens which gives a funny looking distortion to the edges of the image. The face of the user will normally be in the centre, so it will be identifiable. In the current case also, the face was identifiable, and showed that the person is the same one as in the bank records.
But a photo doesn't give much chance of apprehending the man on the run. The only way, as Nage Gowda pointed out, would be a vehicle to vehicle search on the NH. But even that doesn't guarantee anything, the logistical nightmare notwithstanding.
Anil had resigned to fate, and started to debate the backup plans, like tightening the surveillance on the known tags in Kolkata, when John brought his laptop to him.
On the screen, there was an enlarged version of the ATM photo, except that it looked like the image from a badly adjusted TV set. The man's face was not at all clear in the image. Anil couldn't make anything out of it.
“What is it John?” His frustration came out as a tinge of impatience in his voice.
“Look in the background, Sir” John insisted.
“What is in the background.” Anil couldn't discern anything
“Look here” John clicked a selection tool at a certain point on the background that looked like a shapeless object. An outline appeared, overlapping the man's face in the foreground.
“The front grill of a car!” Anil said, without much excitement.
“It is a Scorpio, with hood mounted mirrors and a fake turbo air scoop” John explained.
“So?” Asked Nage Gowda.
“Get the full sequence of the images from RIS. I believe he came in that car.” John said, in the matter of fact tone he normally used to de-emphasise his excitement.
With just a smile breaking through the corner of his mouth, Anil sent the request from his phone.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
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Re: Spy Story
The ATMs capture still frames at a slow rate of one frame in several seconds, but these are not recorded permanently. They are just kept in temporary buffers. When someone actually operate the machine, the entire sequence in the buffer will be stored, resulting in capture of the action from several seconds before the transaction and continue for several seconds after the completion. This will help in eliminating fraudulent action at the machine.
The entire capture of the transaction made by Shenoy at the SBI ATM at Tatapudi was sent by secure e-mail to Anil. It began with the frame with Shenoy opening the door. The front of the white Scorpio was discernible in that frame. When Shenoy comes closer, the auto balance of the image blurred out the car. The sequence ended with a frame where Shenoy had the door of the car half open.
“It is his car alright.” Anil said, nodding his head.
“And he has a set of stickers on the Door panel”. John observed. Some people have the fad of applying all kinds of accessory stickers on the driver's door. With a bit of image manipulation, John got a decent capture of the stickers.
“Now, all you need to do is, get the white scorpio, with hood mounted mirrors, fake air scoop and stickers on the door. Piece of cake!” John said with a shrug.
“You could have got the number as well..” Teased Nage Gowda.
“Too bad he didn't park it a foot to the left. All we could see is a 'T' on the plate.” John said with visible unhappiness.
“How come he got a Tamil Nadu registered car?” Anil asked, more to himself, than to others.
“Looks like he went to Chennai from here. Why else he be in Tatapudi?” Gowda ventured.
Anil slowly shook his head, deep in thought.
A minute or two passed in uncomfortable silence.
“What do you recommend, Anil?” Nage Gowda finally broke the silence.
“Nage Sahibare, can you get us a chopper?” Anil asked.
“No problem!!” Boomed Nage Gowda.
“I hate flying, muttered John. As usual, the others ignored him.
The entire capture of the transaction made by Shenoy at the SBI ATM at Tatapudi was sent by secure e-mail to Anil. It began with the frame with Shenoy opening the door. The front of the white Scorpio was discernible in that frame. When Shenoy comes closer, the auto balance of the image blurred out the car. The sequence ended with a frame where Shenoy had the door of the car half open.
“It is his car alright.” Anil said, nodding his head.
“And he has a set of stickers on the Door panel”. John observed. Some people have the fad of applying all kinds of accessory stickers on the driver's door. With a bit of image manipulation, John got a decent capture of the stickers.
“Now, all you need to do is, get the white scorpio, with hood mounted mirrors, fake air scoop and stickers on the door. Piece of cake!” John said with a shrug.
“You could have got the number as well..” Teased Nage Gowda.
“Too bad he didn't park it a foot to the left. All we could see is a 'T' on the plate.” John said with visible unhappiness.
“How come he got a Tamil Nadu registered car?” Anil asked, more to himself, than to others.
“Looks like he went to Chennai from here. Why else he be in Tatapudi?” Gowda ventured.
Anil slowly shook his head, deep in thought.
A minute or two passed in uncomfortable silence.
“What do you recommend, Anil?” Nage Gowda finally broke the silence.
“Nage Sahibare, can you get us a chopper?” Anil asked.
“No problem!!” Boomed Nage Gowda.
“I hate flying, muttered John. As usual, the others ignored him.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
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Re: Spy Story
Srinivasa Rao was dozing off, sitting in his chair behind the counter. It was hardly comfortable, but having nothing else to do, sleep came naturally. The evening rush of customers had subsided. After this hour, he would expect only a few late comers who want to fine a bed for some sleep. He had to remain in station to serve them, and to answer the phone from the rooms.
Sri Venkateswara was a mediocre hotel, strategically located on NH-5 at the outskirts of Gannavaram. It served the travellers of that highway who wanted nourishment and rest. The main attraction of the place was the closeness to the highway and the humongous parking lot. The illuminated sigh board invited the weary traveller for some respite from the monotone of the road. The early evenings are the busiest hours, with a trickle of customers coming in thereafter.
The ring of the calling bell raised Srinivasa from his slumber. He woke with a jolt, and with well practised efficiency, sized up the man standing in front of the counter. Not a ruffian, he thought. He fetched the standard smile, and looked questioningly at the customer.
“You got room?” The man asked.
“Yes, sir. Single or double?”
“I am alone.” He said, nervously fingering the small bag held under his arms.
“I have double room, single occupancy, sir.” That was a lie. He wanted to sell off the double rooms.
“How much?”
“Rs 850 plus taxes, sir”
The man nodded agreement. Srinivasa pushed the guest register forward, and he started writing the name and address.
“You got a car, Sir?” Srinivasa asked once the man completed filling in the register.
“Yes, a scorpio. It is parked over there.”
“The number, Sir?”
“Why you need the number?” The man asked a bit irritatingly.
“We need to identify it, Sir.” Srinivasa snapped the pen in his hands and looked at the man expectantly.
“TN-01..” The man began and then trailed off. “I forgot the number. It is my friend's car” he said apologetically.
“That is fine sir. I will go and get it myself later. Just show me the car once we are done” Srinivasa began filling in the details in the receipt book.
After the formalities are over, Srinivasa asked the young man doubled as bell boy and security to show the man his room. He remembered something after he walked almost to the stairs.
“Mr. Krishna Bhat, Sir!!” He called after the man. He turned around. “Sorry Sir. Show me the car, Sir.” Srinivasa requested in the best polite voice.
The man muttered something under his breath, and walked back to the entrance. Standing there, he pointed out his car.
“It is that white scorpio, parked next to the Skoda.”
He and the bell boy walked back to the stairs as Srinivasa went out to copy the number from the plate.
Sri Venkateswara was a mediocre hotel, strategically located on NH-5 at the outskirts of Gannavaram. It served the travellers of that highway who wanted nourishment and rest. The main attraction of the place was the closeness to the highway and the humongous parking lot. The illuminated sigh board invited the weary traveller for some respite from the monotone of the road. The early evenings are the busiest hours, with a trickle of customers coming in thereafter.
The ring of the calling bell raised Srinivasa from his slumber. He woke with a jolt, and with well practised efficiency, sized up the man standing in front of the counter. Not a ruffian, he thought. He fetched the standard smile, and looked questioningly at the customer.
“You got room?” The man asked.
“Yes, sir. Single or double?”
“I am alone.” He said, nervously fingering the small bag held under his arms.
“I have double room, single occupancy, sir.” That was a lie. He wanted to sell off the double rooms.
“How much?”
“Rs 850 plus taxes, sir”
The man nodded agreement. Srinivasa pushed the guest register forward, and he started writing the name and address.
“You got a car, Sir?” Srinivasa asked once the man completed filling in the register.
“Yes, a scorpio. It is parked over there.”
“The number, Sir?”
“Why you need the number?” The man asked a bit irritatingly.
“We need to identify it, Sir.” Srinivasa snapped the pen in his hands and looked at the man expectantly.
“TN-01..” The man began and then trailed off. “I forgot the number. It is my friend's car” he said apologetically.
“That is fine sir. I will go and get it myself later. Just show me the car once we are done” Srinivasa began filling in the details in the receipt book.
After the formalities are over, Srinivasa asked the young man doubled as bell boy and security to show the man his room. He remembered something after he walked almost to the stairs.
“Mr. Krishna Bhat, Sir!!” He called after the man. He turned around. “Sorry Sir. Show me the car, Sir.” Srinivasa requested in the best polite voice.
The man muttered something under his breath, and walked back to the entrance. Standing there, he pointed out his car.
“It is that white scorpio, parked next to the Skoda.”
He and the bell boy walked back to the stairs as Srinivasa went out to copy the number from the plate.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
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Re: Spy Story
The heavy footsteps from the hard boots echoed in the small front office, instantly waking up a sleeping Srinivasa Rao. It took a moment for him to compose himself. He glanced at the clock to see that it was quarter past midnight. He recognized the khaki uniforms in front of him and instantly stood up.
“Who is the owner of that white scorpio there” one cop growled.
It took a second for Srinivasa to register the question in his mind. Before he could respond, the question was repeated.
Srinivasa was not new to police action at his place. Being close to the highway always makes you encounter the police. Sometimes they will be after some suspect. Sometimes after some illicit activity like drugs or prostitution. He even once had a highway patrol team demand a room where they slept off their patrol, and left without paying.
This time, it seems they are after some suspect. Which car did they ask again? The sleep had not left his brain fully.
“Can't you hear? White scorpio. Hood mount mirrors. Fake air scoop, Number TN-01-XX-XXXX” The man said as if reciting something.
Srinivasa remembered the car, but had forgotten the room number. He grabbed the register, which was left open, and pointed to the entry. “Mr. Krishna Bhatt, Room 313, Sir” He said.
“Quick!! Show the room!! Come with us.” The man almost grabbed poor Srinivasa and ran to the stairs. They were all panting heavily when they reached the second floor. All of them had slowed down to a walk.
They knocked on the door repeatedly, but got no answer. One of the cops made the threat that they will break and enter.
Srinivasa pushed on the door and found that it jiggled. That meant that the tower bolts are not engaged.
“I will get the pass key, Sir.” He ran down, without waiting for permission, and came back with a big ring of keys. He found the right key after a brief search and opened the door.
No one was inside. The cops quickly scanned under the bed and in the bathroom. There was no sign of Mr. Bhat anywhere.
The cops were utterly confused. All they could come with was a question “Where did he go?”
“Come on, search around!!” finally, the head constable came to his senses.
They found that the door to the fire escape was open. The head constable slapped his own head, as he looked out.
He saw a glimpse of the white scorpio driving out of the parking lot, and merge with the northbound traffic.
“Who is the owner of that white scorpio there” one cop growled.
It took a second for Srinivasa to register the question in his mind. Before he could respond, the question was repeated.
Srinivasa was not new to police action at his place. Being close to the highway always makes you encounter the police. Sometimes they will be after some suspect. Sometimes after some illicit activity like drugs or prostitution. He even once had a highway patrol team demand a room where they slept off their patrol, and left without paying.
This time, it seems they are after some suspect. Which car did they ask again? The sleep had not left his brain fully.
“Can't you hear? White scorpio. Hood mount mirrors. Fake air scoop, Number TN-01-XX-XXXX” The man said as if reciting something.
Srinivasa remembered the car, but had forgotten the room number. He grabbed the register, which was left open, and pointed to the entry. “Mr. Krishna Bhatt, Room 313, Sir” He said.
“Quick!! Show the room!! Come with us.” The man almost grabbed poor Srinivasa and ran to the stairs. They were all panting heavily when they reached the second floor. All of them had slowed down to a walk.
They knocked on the door repeatedly, but got no answer. One of the cops made the threat that they will break and enter.
Srinivasa pushed on the door and found that it jiggled. That meant that the tower bolts are not engaged.
“I will get the pass key, Sir.” He ran down, without waiting for permission, and came back with a big ring of keys. He found the right key after a brief search and opened the door.
No one was inside. The cops quickly scanned under the bed and in the bathroom. There was no sign of Mr. Bhat anywhere.
The cops were utterly confused. All they could come with was a question “Where did he go?”
“Come on, search around!!” finally, the head constable came to his senses.
They found that the door to the fire escape was open. The head constable slapped his own head, as he looked out.
He saw a glimpse of the white scorpio driving out of the parking lot, and merge with the northbound traffic.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
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Re: Spy Story
Sidha Raju had just returned into his small cabin after directing an ambulance to the right location. He sat down in his chair, and poured some coffee from a thermos. The night shift at the hospital is always hard. You need to do everything, alone, from keeping an eye on the vehicles, to directing them to the appropriate location. Past midnight, the traffic in the highway would subside, and the activity at the hospital also would come down. Most of the vehicles coming in those times will be emergency vehicles. Either ambulances, or private vehicles bringing in patients to the emergency room.
Sidha Raju was a veteran at this place. It was a huge complex, housing a medical, dental and nursing colleges, and a big hospital associated with them. His duty rotated at various places, but he kind of liked the duty at the front entrance to the hospital. He had a sense of achievement when helping someone in need, even as small as telling them where the emergency room is.
As he watched the highway traffic, mainly consisting of trucks at this hour, and trying to ward off the sleep with the help of the coffee, he noticed a white scorpio car go very fast on the northbound side of the highway. With a screech of the tyres, it braked hard and took a U-Turn, barely avoiding an oncoming truck. It then pulled out of the lanes, leaving the truck to wiggle across the lanes, but avoiding an accident. The scorpio pulled sharply into the entrance, by the time Sidha Raju jumped out of bis cabin to see what is going on.
There was only the driver inside. He asked questioningly to him. He looked back at Raju and muttered “Casuality.. Chest Pain..”
“Go straight. First right to cardiac EMR” Raju said the often used standard phrase. The scorpio took of in that direction as fast as it came.
'Something isn't right.' Sidha Raju thought. The retired policeman felt that a man with chest pain should not drive like that. “Maybe just gas. That too happens.” He told himself. He went back to the cabin, for his un finished glass of coffee.
He noticed a police car go northbound with the siren wailing and lights flashing. Maybe an accident somewhere, he thought.
Sidha Raju was a veteran at this place. It was a huge complex, housing a medical, dental and nursing colleges, and a big hospital associated with them. His duty rotated at various places, but he kind of liked the duty at the front entrance to the hospital. He had a sense of achievement when helping someone in need, even as small as telling them where the emergency room is.
As he watched the highway traffic, mainly consisting of trucks at this hour, and trying to ward off the sleep with the help of the coffee, he noticed a white scorpio car go very fast on the northbound side of the highway. With a screech of the tyres, it braked hard and took a U-Turn, barely avoiding an oncoming truck. It then pulled out of the lanes, leaving the truck to wiggle across the lanes, but avoiding an accident. The scorpio pulled sharply into the entrance, by the time Sidha Raju jumped out of bis cabin to see what is going on.
There was only the driver inside. He asked questioningly to him. He looked back at Raju and muttered “Casuality.. Chest Pain..”
“Go straight. First right to cardiac EMR” Raju said the often used standard phrase. The scorpio took of in that direction as fast as it came.
'Something isn't right.' Sidha Raju thought. The retired policeman felt that a man with chest pain should not drive like that. “Maybe just gas. That too happens.” He told himself. He went back to the cabin, for his un finished glass of coffee.
He noticed a police car go northbound with the siren wailing and lights flashing. Maybe an accident somewhere, he thought.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
Two Boleros of the Andhra Pradesh police came southbound on the highway with sirens and lights. Sidha Raju observed them from a distance. It was a bit unusual. He was concerned a little, given all the terrorism scares around. He watched them hurtle down towards him through the almost empty highway. A lone truck, hogging the right lane, kept its lumbering slow pace in total disregard for the police cars.
As they reached the turnout, the two police cars turned sharply away from the carriageway, and found their way to the main entrance to the hospital. Sidha Raju jumped up, ran out, and gave a smart salute.
“Did you see a white scorpio around?” Came the question from the car.
“White scorpio? Sir. One went inside into the hospital, ten minutes ago” He said.
“Did it have mirrors on the bonnet?”
“I haven't noticed sir. He said he had chest pain. I sent him to the cardiac EMR”. The man said.
The cop in the car didn't pay attention to the last part. “We are at PSG hospital. A white scorpio had gone in into the campus. Bring all units in. Block all entrances”. He barked into the wireless set.
“Where did you say he went” He asked Sidha Raju.
“To the cardiac EMR, Sir”
The leading Bolero drove in, leaving the other one there at the gate. Cops got out of the car and started taking positions.
“What is going on, Sir?” Sidha Raju asked one cop.
“A terrorist escaped in a white scorpio. We are looking for him”
A chill went down poor Sidha Raju's spine. Will it be car bomb or something? He thought with a shiver. He shared the concern with the cop.
“Don't say bad things with your tongue!!” The cop scolded him.
Sidha Raju walked back to his cabin and raised his colleagues at the other entrances over the intercom and appraised them of the situation. He then stood out, prepared to run at the slightest sign of danger.
As they reached the turnout, the two police cars turned sharply away from the carriageway, and found their way to the main entrance to the hospital. Sidha Raju jumped up, ran out, and gave a smart salute.
“Did you see a white scorpio around?” Came the question from the car.
“White scorpio? Sir. One went inside into the hospital, ten minutes ago” He said.
“Did it have mirrors on the bonnet?”
“I haven't noticed sir. He said he had chest pain. I sent him to the cardiac EMR”. The man said.
The cop in the car didn't pay attention to the last part. “We are at PSG hospital. A white scorpio had gone in into the campus. Bring all units in. Block all entrances”. He barked into the wireless set.
“Where did you say he went” He asked Sidha Raju.
“To the cardiac EMR, Sir”
The leading Bolero drove in, leaving the other one there at the gate. Cops got out of the car and started taking positions.
“What is going on, Sir?” Sidha Raju asked one cop.
“A terrorist escaped in a white scorpio. We are looking for him”
A chill went down poor Sidha Raju's spine. Will it be car bomb or something? He thought with a shiver. He shared the concern with the cop.
“Don't say bad things with your tongue!!” The cop scolded him.
Sidha Raju walked back to his cabin and raised his colleagues at the other entrances over the intercom and appraised them of the situation. He then stood out, prepared to run at the slightest sign of danger.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
Anil Nambiar and John Mathew got out of the car, and walked towards the Scorpio. Two cops stood guard there, who turned to them and saluted as they approached. The stickers on the driver side door was clearly visible, even under the light of the halogen lamp up on the pole. Just to be sure, John took out a sheet of printout, and confirmed the identity. The stickers matched, as well as the mirrors and the air scoop on the hood of the car that was seen at the ATM.
“It is him, Sir”, he whispered to Anil.
The car was locked. Though John ventured to open it and do an examination, Anil decided not to do it right away. The fact that it was more important to find the man was as a factor as the fear of booby traps for that decision. In any case, they have that car in their control, so nothing is going to change by inspecting it now.
The cops had already been combing the place. All of them had the photograph of Shenoy for identification. All the entrances were blocked by cops, and no one was allowed to leave or enter.
Minutes passed, still there was no sign of Shenoy.
The senior doctor who was on duty at the cardiac EMR, who doubled as the superintendent for the night shift had come to meet Anil. He was already briefed by the local police about the situation. A warm handshake and a wide smile introduced Dr. Rao.
Anil asked Dr. Rao whether the hospital had a video surveillance system. The answer was negative. Even though the complex claimed to be a state of the art medical facility, they did not have a video surveillance system. It didn't need that, according to Dr. Rao. He then politely invited Anil to his office at the EMR.
Anil opted to take a walk around instead. With Dr. Rao and John in tow, he strolled into the Cardiac EMR. He immediately realized that no one could have got in and hidden there, because it was an organized place. The area beyond the front hall was out of bounds even for the relatives, as it was the critical care area. Only patients were admitted there, and there was constant attention to everyone.
They then walked through the corridor to the trauma centre. This is where the cases with injuries, mainly from accidents were treated. This place was more chaotic. Victims from an accident that happened in the highway were being treated there. There was a small crowd of relatives of the victims, and policemen who took care of the legal processes. As they approached the main front area via the corridor that linked the cardiac EMR and the Trauma center, they found a few stretchers lined up near the wall. Corpses, apparently from the accident, were lying on them. The stink of blood, dettol and alcohol lingered in the air, which was nauseating. Some women, apparently the relatives of the victims, were sitting on the floor and wailing.
Anil and John took a look around, and turned back to go to the medical emergency area. They walked back through the corridor where the stretchers were kept. Dr. Rao was leading the way, with Anil and John following him.
Suddenly Anil felt a tug on his shirt. He turned around, enquiringly. He saw John make the sign for silence and tiptoe to one of the stretchers. After hesitating for a moment, he pulled back the white cloth covering the face of the corpse.
The dead man came to life, as he jumped down from the stretcher and bolted, making a commotion among the people at the trauma centre. John was not prepared for that, so lost a precious moment to try catching the man. All he could catch hold on to was his hand, which was quickly shaken loose. With surprising agility for his betraying appearance, John ran after the man with vigour.
He ran towards the exit of the trauma center. Someone standing in the way was unceremoniously pushed away and he fell sideways in a heap. John deftly leapt over the unfortunate man and continued the pursuit. Before the man reached the glass doors of the entrance, John leapt forward like a cheetah and tackled his legs. He turned around while falling and ended up in a half sitting position against the swinging door. His head hit the glass with force.
John broke his own fall by his right hand. He kicked the face of the culprit away and grabbed his hand. In one deft move he got him under control, face down and his right hand locked safely and painfully behind him. He turned and smiled at Anil who, by this time, had reached the scene.
Without any sign of breathlessness, John turned to the prostrate man and said. “Nice to meet you, Shenoy, aka Moorthy aka Bhat! Your game is up”
The man could only grunt in pain.
“It is him, Sir”, he whispered to Anil.
The car was locked. Though John ventured to open it and do an examination, Anil decided not to do it right away. The fact that it was more important to find the man was as a factor as the fear of booby traps for that decision. In any case, they have that car in their control, so nothing is going to change by inspecting it now.
The cops had already been combing the place. All of them had the photograph of Shenoy for identification. All the entrances were blocked by cops, and no one was allowed to leave or enter.
Minutes passed, still there was no sign of Shenoy.
The senior doctor who was on duty at the cardiac EMR, who doubled as the superintendent for the night shift had come to meet Anil. He was already briefed by the local police about the situation. A warm handshake and a wide smile introduced Dr. Rao.
Anil asked Dr. Rao whether the hospital had a video surveillance system. The answer was negative. Even though the complex claimed to be a state of the art medical facility, they did not have a video surveillance system. It didn't need that, according to Dr. Rao. He then politely invited Anil to his office at the EMR.
Anil opted to take a walk around instead. With Dr. Rao and John in tow, he strolled into the Cardiac EMR. He immediately realized that no one could have got in and hidden there, because it was an organized place. The area beyond the front hall was out of bounds even for the relatives, as it was the critical care area. Only patients were admitted there, and there was constant attention to everyone.
They then walked through the corridor to the trauma centre. This is where the cases with injuries, mainly from accidents were treated. This place was more chaotic. Victims from an accident that happened in the highway were being treated there. There was a small crowd of relatives of the victims, and policemen who took care of the legal processes. As they approached the main front area via the corridor that linked the cardiac EMR and the Trauma center, they found a few stretchers lined up near the wall. Corpses, apparently from the accident, were lying on them. The stink of blood, dettol and alcohol lingered in the air, which was nauseating. Some women, apparently the relatives of the victims, were sitting on the floor and wailing.
Anil and John took a look around, and turned back to go to the medical emergency area. They walked back through the corridor where the stretchers were kept. Dr. Rao was leading the way, with Anil and John following him.
Suddenly Anil felt a tug on his shirt. He turned around, enquiringly. He saw John make the sign for silence and tiptoe to one of the stretchers. After hesitating for a moment, he pulled back the white cloth covering the face of the corpse.
The dead man came to life, as he jumped down from the stretcher and bolted, making a commotion among the people at the trauma centre. John was not prepared for that, so lost a precious moment to try catching the man. All he could catch hold on to was his hand, which was quickly shaken loose. With surprising agility for his betraying appearance, John ran after the man with vigour.
He ran towards the exit of the trauma center. Someone standing in the way was unceremoniously pushed away and he fell sideways in a heap. John deftly leapt over the unfortunate man and continued the pursuit. Before the man reached the glass doors of the entrance, John leapt forward like a cheetah and tackled his legs. He turned around while falling and ended up in a half sitting position against the swinging door. His head hit the glass with force.
John broke his own fall by his right hand. He kicked the face of the culprit away and grabbed his hand. In one deft move he got him under control, face down and his right hand locked safely and painfully behind him. He turned and smiled at Anil who, by this time, had reached the scene.
Without any sign of breathlessness, John turned to the prostrate man and said. “Nice to meet you, Shenoy, aka Moorthy aka Bhat! Your game is up”
The man could only grunt in pain.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
Inspector Ajith Kumar looked at the woman sitting in front of him. The pale face had taken an un natural hue of grey, which was accentuated by the dark circles around her eyes. The copious amount of kajal used on the lashes and the brows made a heavy contrast to the rest of the face, and gave an eery feeling about her. A peanut shaped mole stood up prominently on her left cheek. The powdery kumkum spread on her forehead had spread around, giving some strange blush to the upper part of the face. The nose was shapely, but the wide mouth under that gave a comical effect to her weary smile.
“What did you say your husband's name again?” Ajith was asking, while scanning the petition in his hand.
“Krishna Kumar. He is also called Krishna Bhat sometimes.” She said in a feeble voice. Ajith had to lean forward and cock his ears to hear her.
“What is your name?”
“Shyamala” The voice was almost apologetic.
“Since when he is missing?” Ajith's eyes were still on the paper.
“It is written in the paper, Sir.” The woman ventured.
“So, what? Can't you say it again?” The rough police side of Ajith made a brief appearance.
“It has been six days, Sir.” She swallowed with effort, and wiped her forehead, spreading the kumkum even further.
“Did he tell you anything before he left?”
“He said he will go to Bangalore on business”
“Well, maybe the business took longer than expected there.”
“But he normally calls me from wherever, Sir. I am scared.” She was almost crying.
“Why scared? He is not an infant or something.” Ajith said nonchalantly.
“But a day after he left, our shop got burglarized, Sir. There is a case on that too.”
“Where was the shop? When did it happen?”
“It was on Roderigues Road. Someone broke in during the night.”
“Oh, the freight agent office. I thought you didn't loose anything valuable from there.”
“That is not true sir. All the files and papers were gone.”
Ajith sat upright.
“Is that so? Was that recorded in the FIR?”
“No, sir. The Headconstable said there was nothing valuable, and refused to mention that in the FIR.”
“Oho! I will look at that.” Ajith shook his head and sat there, deep in thought.
“What was your husband's line of work? Did he have any enemies”
“He had many businesses. Real estate, commission agent, freight booking etc. I don't know about any enemies Sir, but businessmen will have some, won't they?”
“Why did he go to Bangalore? What business he has there?”
“I don't know Sir. I knew nothing about his businesses.”
“You are his wife. You should know”
“He never told me anything, Sir. He will scold me if I ask.”
“Do you suspect anyone?”
“No, sir. I don't know anything. I am scared. If something happens to him...” her voice trailed off and ended in a sob.
“Do you have children? Who else is there at home?”
“God didn't give us children, Sir. We live alone. I eloped with him seven years ago, Sir. Now I have no one else in the world, other than him.” She again sobbed.
“Does he have relatives?”
“Yes, sir. There are some up north, but he was not in good terms with them. We had no contact at all, Sir.”
Ajith nodded, and sat in thought for a moment.
“Sir, please, be kind to make an investigation and find my husband, Sir.” She started weeping.
“Ok, I will look into it. Let us hope for the best. We will try to find him. Ok?” He consoled the woman and let her go.
After she left, he took his cell phone and dialled a number.
“Anil Sir, Shenoy's wife came in with a missing person petition on him. What should I do?”
He was not happy about what he heard from the other end.
“What did you say your husband's name again?” Ajith was asking, while scanning the petition in his hand.
“Krishna Kumar. He is also called Krishna Bhat sometimes.” She said in a feeble voice. Ajith had to lean forward and cock his ears to hear her.
“What is your name?”
“Shyamala” The voice was almost apologetic.
“Since when he is missing?” Ajith's eyes were still on the paper.
“It is written in the paper, Sir.” The woman ventured.
“So, what? Can't you say it again?” The rough police side of Ajith made a brief appearance.
“It has been six days, Sir.” She swallowed with effort, and wiped her forehead, spreading the kumkum even further.
“Did he tell you anything before he left?”
“He said he will go to Bangalore on business”
“Well, maybe the business took longer than expected there.”
“But he normally calls me from wherever, Sir. I am scared.” She was almost crying.
“Why scared? He is not an infant or something.” Ajith said nonchalantly.
“But a day after he left, our shop got burglarized, Sir. There is a case on that too.”
“Where was the shop? When did it happen?”
“It was on Roderigues Road. Someone broke in during the night.”
“Oh, the freight agent office. I thought you didn't loose anything valuable from there.”
“That is not true sir. All the files and papers were gone.”
Ajith sat upright.
“Is that so? Was that recorded in the FIR?”
“No, sir. The Headconstable said there was nothing valuable, and refused to mention that in the FIR.”
“Oho! I will look at that.” Ajith shook his head and sat there, deep in thought.
“What was your husband's line of work? Did he have any enemies”
“He had many businesses. Real estate, commission agent, freight booking etc. I don't know about any enemies Sir, but businessmen will have some, won't they?”
“Why did he go to Bangalore? What business he has there?”
“I don't know Sir. I knew nothing about his businesses.”
“You are his wife. You should know”
“He never told me anything, Sir. He will scold me if I ask.”
“Do you suspect anyone?”
“No, sir. I don't know anything. I am scared. If something happens to him...” her voice trailed off and ended in a sob.
“Do you have children? Who else is there at home?”
“God didn't give us children, Sir. We live alone. I eloped with him seven years ago, Sir. Now I have no one else in the world, other than him.” She again sobbed.
“Does he have relatives?”
“Yes, sir. There are some up north, but he was not in good terms with them. We had no contact at all, Sir.”
Ajith nodded, and sat in thought for a moment.
“Sir, please, be kind to make an investigation and find my husband, Sir.” She started weeping.
“Ok, I will look into it. Let us hope for the best. We will try to find him. Ok?” He consoled the woman and let her go.
After she left, he took his cell phone and dialled a number.
“Anil Sir, Shenoy's wife came in with a missing person petition on him. What should I do?”
He was not happy about what he heard from the other end.
-
Dileep
- BRF Oldie
- Posts: 5890
- Joined: 04 Apr 2005 08:17
- Location: Dera Mahab Ali धरा महाबलिस्याः درا مهاب الي
Re: Spy Story
“Why don't we send her up there, and lock both of them up together?” John asked with a wink.
“Sure. A happy reunion!” Praveen smirked.
The team had assembled back at the home base. Shenoy had safely arrived at Delhi, and was under the expert care of the specialists of the agency. It took some time and a CAT scan to find the memory card, and more time and a lot of laxatives to retrieve it. It was a small consolation that the experts found that it was the real deal, the same one as Lt. Raja Mohan had given him.
With a little motivation, Shenoy had agreed to co-operate with the agency. He was a good businessman, and was perfectly able to figure when the bets are off. He would give all the l information about the links he had with the enemy operators, in exchange for a life at a far corner of the country, under surveillance.
The top brass of the agency was disappointed that they had to take drastic action, upsetting the network and foreclosing any hope of containment. Anil had to argue that it was the only way out, since vital information was already out in the open, and its safe retrieval was of paramount importance.
They had to agree.
But the hornet's nest was already stirred. It warranted action. The only viable course of action was elimination. Huang Wei and his network must go. It is going to be nasty, but it need to be done.
“Time being she will have to deal with her sorrows. We will see what can be done after we deal with the rest.” Anil said with a sense of finality.
“The good thing is, our friend Adung will stay safe.” John said with a mischievous smile.
“Why is it a good thing, John?” Anil asked, pretending innocence.
“I get to watch the lady forever” John laughed.
“Sorry to disappoint you. You and Arjun are moving to Vishakhapatnam”
“Thank god!” Praveen crossed himself.
“Arjun!! This Arjun Rai!! Why don't you tie a stone around my neck and push me into the river, Sir?” John cried in mock anger.
All of them had a hearty laugh.
The naga maanikyam was safe where it belongs, and the forces guarding it was alert and in full readiness. Darkness fell, but the watchful eyes sans lids never slept.
The End.
“Sure. A happy reunion!” Praveen smirked.
The team had assembled back at the home base. Shenoy had safely arrived at Delhi, and was under the expert care of the specialists of the agency. It took some time and a CAT scan to find the memory card, and more time and a lot of laxatives to retrieve it. It was a small consolation that the experts found that it was the real deal, the same one as Lt. Raja Mohan had given him.
With a little motivation, Shenoy had agreed to co-operate with the agency. He was a good businessman, and was perfectly able to figure when the bets are off. He would give all the l information about the links he had with the enemy operators, in exchange for a life at a far corner of the country, under surveillance.
The top brass of the agency was disappointed that they had to take drastic action, upsetting the network and foreclosing any hope of containment. Anil had to argue that it was the only way out, since vital information was already out in the open, and its safe retrieval was of paramount importance.
They had to agree.
But the hornet's nest was already stirred. It warranted action. The only viable course of action was elimination. Huang Wei and his network must go. It is going to be nasty, but it need to be done.
“Time being she will have to deal with her sorrows. We will see what can be done after we deal with the rest.” Anil said with a sense of finality.
“The good thing is, our friend Adung will stay safe.” John said with a mischievous smile.
“Why is it a good thing, John?” Anil asked, pretending innocence.
“I get to watch the lady forever” John laughed.
“Sorry to disappoint you. You and Arjun are moving to Vishakhapatnam”
“Thank god!” Praveen crossed himself.
“Arjun!! This Arjun Rai!! Why don't you tie a stone around my neck and push me into the river, Sir?” John cried in mock anger.
All of them had a hearty laugh.
The naga maanikyam was safe where it belongs, and the forces guarding it was alert and in full readiness. Darkness fell, but the watchful eyes sans lids never slept.
The End.