The Phoenix Page 11

  Aryaman entered the interrogation room, holding the door open for the two Turkish officers to step out. He walked up to the wall, dismantled the CCTV camera and turned to Lior.

  ‘Good cop, bad cop.’ Lior smiled. ‘Cute.’

  Aryaman dragged his chair towards Lior, lit himself a cigarette and sat down.

  ‘You won’t find anything about this cute once I’m done with you.’

  There was a small cloud of smoke between the two.

  ‘I’ve already said what I had to.’ Lior shrugged. ‘I’m just a businessman.’

  Aryaman took a key out of his pocket and unlocked Lior’s handcuffs. He then knelt down and undid the chains that held Lior to the ground.

  ‘You’re in the business of selling death.’ Aryaman looked Lior in the eye. ‘I am in the business of saving lives.’

  Aryaman threw aside the key with the chains and cuffs. Lior stood up and spat on the ground.

  ‘So, let’s negotiate.’ Aryaman got up as well, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

  Lior rolled up his fists and began to throw punches indiscriminately at Aryaman. The blows hurt but not enough to take Aryaman out of the fight. Lior grabbed him by the neck and pinned him against the wall, tightening his grip around Aryaman’s throat.

  ‘It’s true,’ Aryaman said as his face reddened. ‘You really do throw punches like a businessman.’

  Aryaman summoned more energy and kneed Lior in the balls. Lior’s fighting style was haphazard, and Aryaman could kill him in an instant if he had to. But he needed answers, and the Turks needed Lior alive.

  Aryaman elbowed Lior in the face, sending him crashing to the floor. Aryaman picked up his burning cigarette and bent over Lior. He then forced Lior’s eye open and stubbed the cigarette in it. Lior screamed in pain. Aryaman crushed Lior’s fingers under his boot. Realizing this fight wasn’t his to win, Lior stopped resisting.

  ‘Good,’ Aryaman said. ‘Now you tell me what I need to know. And you’ll still live. One hand and one eye intact. A businessman needs at least that to count his money.’

  Lior was shaking in pain.

  ‘Tell me everything,’ Aryaman continued. ‘Or this ends here for you, and I go out and find things out anyway.’

  Later that night, Aryaman and Avantika made their way to a local bar and had a few drinks. Randheer had arranged for them a clean exit from Turkey. But what they had learnt from Lior shook them to the core. The clock was ticking, and they knew that if they didn’t act in time their country would face the most diabolical bioterrorism attack in recent history.

  15

  Aditya had managed to grasp the entire situation pretty clearly. His grandmother wanted to make sure that the young boy lived with no misconceptions about the world around him. His father, though a well-meaning man, was a mess. His mother was no more. His grandmother, too, would lose the battle to age in the near future. And his newest friend in Dehradun—the adorable little mutt, Chor—didn’t have the life expectancy of a human being.

  ‘Enjoy everything while it lasts,’ Aarti said, stroking Aditya’s head as he fed Chor yet another batch of the boiled chicken. ‘I want to be honest with you, Aditya. Your father is on a mission that may not end well.’

  Chor was lapping up the food. Aditya’s eyes slowly welled up as his grandmother’s words sunk in. He nodded and turned his face away, pretending to scan the books in the children’s section of the library.

  ‘Can we go for a walk?’ he asked her.

  Aarti agreed. They stepped out of the library and watched the Aroras relaxing on the front lawn. There were a few teenagers strumming their guitars and singing a soothing song nearby.

  ‘Just taking my grandson out for a walk.’ Aarti beamed at the Aroras. ‘Let him see the stark contrast between Mumbai and Dehradun.’

  Mr Arora grinned. ‘Oh, well! I shudder to think that people actually enjoy living there. Is Chor going along?’

  ‘Of course,’ Aditya said, holding Chor’s leash. ‘My little brother.’

  They all laughed.

  Aarti led him out, and the two of them—with Chor in tandem—walked down the winding roads as the evening set in. They spoke about many things, in a way they hadn’t when Jyoti was alive. They discussed the world of intelligence.

  ‘There is no place where espionage is not possible,’ Aarti quoted Sun Tzu as they stopped for coffee. She ordered black coffee, as her son would have, and Aditya went for a frappuccino.

  ‘Granny,’ Aditya said tiredly. ‘Enough of this spy business. Let’s talk about something kids my age are expected to talk about?’

  His grandmother laughed heartily. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know what it is kids your age talk about,’ she said, sipping her black coffee and taking short but steady steps ahead on the empty street. ‘Would you rather I talk to you about how harmful smoking and drinking is?’

  ‘You could,’ Aditya said snidely. ‘But it didn’t seem to work with Dad.’

  Aarti was distracted by something. She looked over her shoulder and said, ‘I think we should get back home now, Adi.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘There are a couple of men following us,’ Aarti said. ‘I don’t think it’s anything alarming. They could be some people your father has sent to keep a watch on us.’

  ‘Well, then we are safe, aren’t we?’

  Aarti turned around yet again. The two men turned right, towards a market. Amateurs, she thought. Had they known the art of tailing someone well enough, they would have continued walking down the road confidently and tried to come across as regular people. Instead, they had made things more obvious by disappearing like this.

  ‘One can never know,’ she said. ‘Let’s go back home and call Randheer.’

  IRW headquarters, New Delhi

  There was no point holding anything back from the officials. Especially now. It had been a day since Aryaman and Avantika returned from Turkey. Aryaman felt a strange sense of resentment as he walked through the familiar corridors of the IRW headquarters. Randheer knew exactly what he was putting him through when he’d asked him to return, face Sharma and the other officials, and come clean about all that had happened since he had stepped out of prison.

  Bipin Sharma hadn’t guaranteed that any of Aryaman’s actions wouldn’t warrant another punishment. But Aryaman had an ace up his sleeve. He was going to negotiate with Sharma before they could send him back to that dreaded prison island.

  In the lobby, Aryaman met a harrowed-looking Randheer, who reeked of cigarettes and stale perfume.

  ‘Your mother gave me an earful.’ He chuckled nervously, trying to lighten the atmosphere. ‘I had kept a two-man team for surveillance on her and the boy. She spotted them and shook them off. She has asked for them to be replaced.’

  Aryaman paced towards the room where the meeting with Sharma was supposed to happen. His mind wasn’t on his family for now. He had larger concerns—like the safety of his country. He paused right outside the door and took a deep breath. Randheer gave him a reassuring look and thought, Aryaman would hate to admit it, but he is fucking nervous.

  Randheer pushed the door open and entered first. He saw Sharma sitting alone. There was nobody else in the room. Of course, they would be recording the entire conversation. Aryaman walked in and stood before Sharma.

  They looked into each other’s eyes unwaveringly. Ignoring Sharma’s outstretched arm, more of a formal gesture than an olive branch, Aryaman went straight to his chair.

  ‘Good evening,’ Aryaman said. The closest he could get to being formal was with these two sharply uttered words.

  ‘Tell me,’ Sharma said. ‘What do you know?’

  ‘Lior Meirs, international gunrunner, was the guy who told me what I am about to tell you. A bioweapon is on its way to India. He told me it’s being shipped in by a couple. Probably funded by the PIA.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Only that the attack will happen as soon as it is in the country,’ Aryaman said. ‘They ha
ve planned this out meticulously. And they are ready to die for their cause. Beyond this, he told me nothing about the couple or about what they want.’

  Sharma was silent for some time. Then he rubbed the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes and spoke.

  ‘The idea was to create a bioweapon that we could have for dire circumstances,’ he said. ‘And now it’s come back to bite us in the ass. I should never have sanctioned Operation Vishaanu.’

  Aryaman scoffed and turned away. Sharma noticed a wry smile on his face.

  ‘You find that funny?’ he asked Aryaman.

  ‘Of course, I do. A weak leader questions his own decisions. A strong one, like Amarjyot Sir, would have had more conviction and made sure he saw things through to the end, even if it meant righting his own wrongs.’

  Sharma didn’t take this well. He leaned forward, trembling with rage.

  ‘And you do know how that ended for him, don’t you? Suicide. An escape route only a coward would take.’

  Aryaman stood up and slammed his fist on the table. But Randheer held him. ‘We have a problem to deal with,’ Randheer said, pushing Aryaman back into his chair. ‘What’s done is done. Let’s fight over that once we overcome this fucking situation!’

  A long pause ensued. Aryaman unscrewed the cap of a water bottle. He downed the water, crushed the empty bottle and flung it aside.

  ‘What do you propose, Aryaman?’ Randheer restarted the conversation.

  ‘These people killed my wife,’ Aryaman told Sharma. ‘They have made it personal. And nothing you do will stop me from ending them. That’s a promise I’ve made to my son.’

  Sharma didn’t speak, and Randheer realized there was nothing he could do to contain Aryaman.

  ‘You must be thinking you’ll pull another fast one on me and send me back to prison,’ Aryaman continued, gnashing his teeth in rage. ‘But that isn’t going to happen. I have something that we absolutely need to win this battle.’

  ‘And what is that?’ Sharma asked, a hint of condescension in his tone.

  ‘Dr Advani’s cooperation,’ Aryaman said. ‘As of now, she is the only one who can effectively produce the antidote. Without her, even if the attack happens, you won’t be able to stop it from spreading and killing our citizens.’

  ‘You and Dr Advani can both go to jail together for pulling that stunt. Stealing the antidote.’

  ‘Well, you should protect areas of such importance better then,’ Aryaman said. ‘Especially if an out-of-the-game spy and a frightened scientist can waltz in and out of them like that!’

  Sharma stoically suppressed his urge to respond in kind and said, ‘So how can we work on this now, Aryaman? Give me a plan that you think will work.’

  Aryaman looked at him and said, ‘Patronizing, as usual.’

  ‘Not this time.’

  ‘Is this conversation being recorded?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Two things then, before I start.’

  ‘Shoot.’

  ‘One. I want a copy of this conversation as proof. The videotape. Or else you will turn on your word and say this never happened.’

  ‘Can be done.’ He looked at Randheer. ‘Please give him the tape. All of it, including his misbehaviour.’

  He turned back to Aryaman, ‘And the second thing?’

  ‘You protect my family through all of this,’ Aryaman said. ‘I want agents posted around them at all times. And also around Avantika’s next of kin. There’s a strong chance we’ve been exposed through a leak to the PIA after the Turkey incident. Deal?’

  Sharma responded immediately, ‘Yes. It’s a deal.’

  Aryaman rolled up his sleeves.

  ‘We need another facility up and active,’ Aryaman said. ‘We get Avantika to produce as many batches of the antidote as possible. The problem is she doesn’t know how effective these will be. There’s no knowing when it’ll start to fight the virus and how long a human will take to recover after being injected with it. The scientists started dying before they could test all of this, as you may be aware.’

  Sharma nodded. ‘Done, we bring Avantika in then.’

  ‘Good,’ Aryaman said. ‘Lior admitted that the weapon is being shipped from Turkey. We aren’t sure if the cargo comes to us directly or moves to another ship at any other port. Or if it comes by air.’

  ‘I will alert the security officials at each possible . . .’

  ‘No,’ Aryaman said. ‘We don’t know how deep the conspiracy is. If there are any leaks, the PIA can plan this around in a way that would give us no leads. Let them play out their plan until the weapon is in our country. And then we catch them.’

  Sharma stared at Aryaman incredulously. ‘So we bring a weapon of mass destruction into our country?’

  ‘We allow it, yes,’ Aryaman said somewhat nervously.

  ‘That’s ridiculous. This sounds like something your defunct Phoenix 5 group would do. Not me.’

  ‘Listen, sir,’ Aryaman said. ‘This is our only shot at uncovering the conspiracy. We don’t even know if this is PIA acting alone or if there are other elements at play. And they might just have joined hands. My point is, we don’t know what we are up against. So we need to wait and assess the situation before we act.’

  ‘This sounds like something Amarjyot would do,’ Sharma said.

  This asshole is still making it about him and Amarjyot Sir, Aryaman thought, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair.

  ‘So, we wait for how long exactly?’ Sharma asked.

  ‘Monitor all chatter,’ Aryaman said to Randheer. ‘Look out for any keywords on the Internet. Video games, social-media sites. Anything. And of course, the physical entry points have to be under scrutiny.’

  ‘Yes,’ Sharma said. ‘The needful will be done. But, Aryaman . . .’

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘Are you certain about doing it this way?’

  ‘Is there any other way?’

  After a brief spell of silence, Sharma conceded.

  ‘Well,’ he said, smiling ever so slightly. ‘At least you called me sir.’

  Aryaman pulled out a cigarette and leaned forward. He knew he couldn’t smoke in there, but he didn’t care about insubordination anymore.

  ‘We’re not friends,’ Aryaman said. ‘We can never be. I’m here for my wife, for Amarjyot Sir and for my country. Not necessarily in that order.’

  Aryaman stood up, walked out of the office and lit his cigarette.

  16

  Dubai

  It wasn’t the best hotel around, but it would certainly make do. Dubai had some of the most lavish places to stay at. But all Asra and Eymen wanted was a modest bed and some freshly cooked food, especially after the terrible journey that had made them seasick. They had successfully carried out most of their plan by transporting the weapon to India. But it wasn’t over yet.

  Asra’s handler, Ashraf Asif, had personally taken charge of the consignment that held the vials. He was there to usher them to safety when the cargo ship arrived at the port. He didn’t tell them how he would get the vials transferred, but he did tell them when and from where they would have to pick them up. That was all they needed to know, he assured them.

  Asif told Asra about Lars Christiansen’s death and the mishap in Turkey. She was scared. Someone was on to them, and they needed to act fast. Their plan had functioned like clockwork thus far. They just had to keep it that way now. Ashraf instructed Asra not to tell Eymen about this. Eymen was just working for them and did not need to be privy to such information. ‘Besides,’ Ashraf added, ‘Eymen is committed to his cause to a fault. Let him believe we have the upper hand, unless we think we need to call off the mission altogether.’

  They retired to their hotel (run by Pakistanis, unsurprisingly) later that evening. Asra and Eymen, between them, had smoked forty cigarettes since morning. In the room, they were mostly silent, unwilling to converse. They only spoke about work. But there was still one question that Asra wanted to ask. Why was Eymen this commit
ted to the cause? He had never answered this question directly. Her boss probably knew why, but Asra didn’t. She thought, Do I need to know his motivations? Does it matter?

  Eymen lay slumped on the sofa with his eyes shut. From the bed, she looked at the awkward posture of his body, rolled up uncomfortably.

  ‘I can take the couch,’ she offered. He half-opened his eyes to look at her and smiled politely. That was the first time she had seen him do that.

  ‘Come on, get on the bed. There’s enough place for you, Eymen.’

  ‘That’s fine.’

  ‘I insist.’ She smiled back. ‘I don’t bite.’

  Eymen stood up sluggishly and walked towards the bed. Asra was eyeing him invitingly. He got in and covered himself with a blanket, avoiding Asra’s stare.

  ‘Why are you so driven to do this, Eymen?’

  He was silent.

  ‘Destabilizing India is my duty,’ she prodded him further. ‘I’m doing this for myself, to rise through the ranks of the PIA.’

  Eymen scratched the grey stubble on his bald head and fixed his eyes at the ceiling. She leaned in closer towards him, touching his shoulder delicately.

  ‘But there’s a feral madness in you. And I can’t place it. Sure, my bosses have asked me to help you on this mission and I will. But you are willing to wear that vest yourself and detonate it? Why?’

  ‘Is that why you called me to the bed?’ he said. ‘So you can try to get me to talk about my motives?’

  She began to stroke his arm delicately. ‘Is it working?’

  ‘Only if you tell me, first, what your PIA handler took you aside to tell you. At the port. I saw you guys talking as I went to the washroom.’

  She paused for a bit and then lay her head down on the pillow.

  ‘Is it something to worry about,’ he asked flatly. ‘Is our plan still on? His body language was one of a worried man.’