Marcos Betrayal

by M J Anand

  ‘Tell me your name.’

  ‘You know it.’

  ‘Your real name.’

  ‘Sasha Rathore. Always been my real name.’

  ‘You were an Indian Intelligence Officer suspended for incompetence.’ He tried to rattle her.

  She gave no reaction.

  ‘We caught you with the terrorists responsible for executing Cortex.’ He waited to see her response; there was none. ‘Can you explain how you ended up with them?’

  She stayed quiet.

  ‘Do you know anything about Cortex?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Amjad realized Sasha wouldn’t relinquish without a fight, as expected. ‘You were caught with them. Fighting for them.’

  ‘I was forced to.’ She stared into his eyes with a resolve that wasn’t indicative of her captivity.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You killed my parents when I was five years old. All they had done was heal people, heal your people.’

  ‘No, we didn’t.’

  ‘Yes, you did. When you attacked Colombo. My parents were just doctors treating soldiers of both the Sri Lankan Army and the Tamil militias. Both sides respected them for their services until the night the Indians came in.’

  Amjad eyed her with intrigue. Was this a new spin? He wasn’t sure of the line between the truth and the lie. It was very difficult. He hadn’t picked up a single physical cue yet. She was very well trained. He looked at his pad; it was green. She was saying the truth, if the machine could be trusted.

  Major Prakash watched Sonia search through databases to corroborate Sasha’s story.

  Amjad stayed quiet and let her speak.

  ‘The fight between the Tamil Tigers and the Sri Lankan Government was straightforward. Sides were clearly defined, and humanitarian workers, like my parents, just did their job. Both parties gave us the space to operate.’ A teardrop fell down her cheek. ‘Until that fateful day of December twentieth, 1990. Your commandos came into our lands and attacked the LTTE, killing more than five hundred people overnight. In retaliation, they killed whoever they suspected to provide the Indians with any support. There were no lines any longer. There was only one right side for both sides.’

  ‘Why do you blame the Indians?’

  She stayed quiet.

  ‘It was a fight between the Sri Lankans and the Tamil militias. How did we kill them?’

  ‘Exactly. You had no business to interfere. My parents died at the hands of Indian forces trying to run away from the Tamil militias. They were killed for being good citizens of their land.’ Her story matched the records. Sonia located a certain Dr. Illembiar Kottaka and Dr. Irena Kottaka killed in the crossfire. The Indian forces attributed it to the Tamil militias, and the Tamil militias attributed it to the Indian forces. The Kottakas were covered extensively in newspapers for their philanthropic activities. Sonia found the many references quite easily. They had two kids. Sasikala Kottaka and Rumilia Kottaka. On that fateful night, both their kids were also reported to have been killed—or not really. Sonia studied Sasha again and ran a face match from one of the newspaper photos. It was Rumilia indeed. She had grown up to be Sasha.

  Amjad checked the pad; it was green. Surprised, he asked her the next logical question. ‘Who recruited you?’

  ‘No one. I recruited myself.’

  This time, the tab was red.

  ‘So tell me, who were you supposed to meet after the mission?’

  ‘God.’ She smiled. ‘We were meant to die with the mission.’

  ‘But you were trying to escape.’

  Sasha looked the other way. ‘I had a change of mind. We didn’t have a backup plan until you got there.’ It was a lie again.

  Amjad caught her blinking a little slower every time she lied. ‘I know you had to meet someone.’

  Sasha regarded him, stone-faced. ‘I have my own birds.’

  Amjad knew she was judging him, but she reveal any leads.

  ‘No one, I said. Good luck with your birds. But yes, we were fed our backup plans well in advance.’ She had flipped.

  Amjad noticed she had blinked slower this time. She couldn’t be lying both ways. The machine had lost it completely by now, and Amjad was more comfortable without it. Sasha was playing with him. She was trained to be a bland listener and a proficient liar. Amjad saw through it in amazement but realized the one constant in her flips. She was protecting her handler. ‘That’s it for today.’ He ended it abruptly, which surprised her. Amjad left the room and looked through the glass panels. ‘She is good. We need to find a way to break her.’

  ‘What if we get Abhimanyu in there?’

  Amjad glared at Major Prakash for suggesting it. On second thought, he repeated that line to himself.

  ‘They were married after all, and there could be emotional chinks. We can exploit it,’ Prakash insisted to both Sonia’s and Amjad’s displeasure.

  Even if Amjad accepted it, Sasha was on her feet, but Abhimanyu wasn’t ready. It might be an option, if and when he heals completely.

  Sasha was still an unknown entity. How did she get out of Sri Lanka? Who was her guardian after her parents died? How did she become a spy for Pakistan? Who were her helpers in India? Amjad needed answers to many more questions before he could get ahold of her thought process. From what he had seen, she would break Abhimanyu emotionally, unless Abhimanyu was fully ready and back in his elements. Exposing Abhimanyu to her before that was not even an option.

  Amjad ignored the request for now but notated it.

  Prakash took Amjad to another room nearby and left them alone. Sasha’s room was down the same corridor, and Prakash went to inspect it.

  ‘Why don’t you check the control room? See if everything is okay there,’ Amjad asked Sonia, and she promptly left him. Amjad had to catch up with the aftermath in Delhi. He dialed in Shankar Menon, the national security advisor. ‘Did you get my message?’

  ‘Yes, shocking. We were looking in the mountains, and it sat amongst us all this while.’ After some thought, Shankar continued, ‘Amjad, you and your team have been through a lot. Why don’t you take a leave for some time?’

  As much as Amjad agreed with the first part, he couldn’t leave amidst such crisis. ‘You know I can’t. I dialed you to get some extra resources.’

  Shankar hadn’t expected any other response. Even though Shankar wished him a break, he was happy to have him around in the politically uncertain times to come and was more than happy to help. ‘Always on job. What do you need?’

  ‘I need to know everyone Sasha had spoken to, met, or interacted with in the entire time she was in India. For that, I’ll require people who are good at disguising themselves.’

  Shankar realized they had to be from outside the system. ‘How many?’

  ‘Around a dozen guys. We need to finish this as soon as possible, say, in a week.’

  It was a tall ask, but Shankar needed to close all the loose ends before anything leaked to the media or the public, which was only a matter of time. ‘My office will get you a list of civilians working for us along with all the security clearances. It shouldn’t take more than a couple hours.’

  ‘Thanks, Shankar. I’ll see you soon.’

  ‘Amjad?’

  ‘Sir.’

  ‘Are you okay?’

  It was an unfair question. So was life. Unfair. Amjad centered himself quickly, for it was a genuine question out of concern. ‘We have to live with it, Shankar. Like most other things in life.’

  Shankar acknowledged the hardships, and they signed off. Amjad closed his eyes but couldn’t stop himself from imagining the magnitude of the breaches. He recognized his behavior was bordering paranoia. Shankar was right; he desperately needed a break.

  The sun was blinding, but he went to the window to get some fresh air. The expansive security apparatus at the military hospital was moving through its motions like a well-oiled machine. The massive manpower and advanced technology deployed came in sync with eac
h other fluidly. All the security, setup, and technology was still no match for a simple human breach. Amjad had learnt it the hard way. Just one person in the right place at the right time could compromise the place. I need the identities of all the men working at this hospital, he messaged Prakash.

  Amjad watched a grocery truck enter through the checkpoint, followed by another army convoy which was checked thoroughly with dogs and sensors despite it being their own. Next was the commanding officer’s Jeep; no exceptions were made either. The security was comprehensive. An ambulance entered with a few patients. Another refrigerated truck for the deceased followed. Amjad noticed the logo on the ambulance also adorned the refrigerated truck. It wasn’t army’s. The dogs checked the vehicles.

  Major Prakash interrupted his thoughts. ‘Abhimanyu is awake.’

  ‘Can we talk to him?’

  ‘Yes. His body is responding well to the medicine now.’

  Amjad nodded; he had another query to clear. ‘Tell me, since when did we allow civilian trucks inside the military hospital?’

  Prakash looked through the window and recognized the logo. ‘Oh, that is just complying with the new rules of bureaucracy. Outsourcing is the mantra. We have outsourced our medical supplies to third-party vendors. Saves a ton of cost. Some babu in the defense ministry gets finance ministry off his back, and some other babu in finance ministry gets his KRA ticked.’ He looked at Amjad. ‘Don’t worry. These are empaneled vendors. We do a thorough background check.’

  ‘Of course.’ He had heard that many times before. The truck cleared the three security gates one by one as Amjad recalled Abhimanyu. ‘Have you also outsourced anything in the army intelligence wing?’

  ‘Not a chance. Too sensitive.’ The bureaucracy had creeped in far too deep into the military.

  Amjad was setting up his priorities as the NIA Director already. Finance ministry couldn’t decide on security matters. It had to stop.

  *****

  Abhimanyu was awake. They slowly opened the door and walked to his bedside.

  The nurse checking his vitals left the room as they entered.

  ‘Doctor says you’re recovering well,’ Amjad said, breaking the ice.

  Abhimanyu smiled and looked toward the window.

  Leaving the two to themselves, Major Prakash swiped his fingers on the scanner in the door and left.

  ‘Every room has a scanner. Lot of security in here.’ Amjad tried some small talk despite knowing he wasn’t good at it.

  ‘Can you believe it?’

  ‘I really can’t.’

  ‘I couldn’t see through her at all.’

  ‘To be fair, none of us did.’ Amjad tried to lighten his load.

  ‘I married her, slept with her, dreamt of a family with her, and was even planning to retire for her.’

  ‘It’s not your fault. Don’t be too hard on yourself. We never doubt the people closest to us. It was the system’s failure. It should have recognized her traces long ago.’

  Abhimanyu gave no reaction. He did not need sympathy.

  ‘Well, at least the silver lining is you won’t retire now.’

  Abhimanyu finally grinned. ‘Yes, that’s definitely out the window now.’ He spied the kettle.

  Amjad poured him some water.

  ‘Do we have her?’

  Amjad nodded.

  ‘Do we have anything on her yet?’

  ‘Did you know her upbringing was in Sri Lanka?’ Amjad quietly settled in his chair.

  ‘No. I thought she was an Indian. Anything else?’

  ‘I’m afraid, not yet. She is good.’

  Abhimanyu couldn’t wait to sit across the table and quiz her. The game had changed colors, and he wanted revenge now. ‘She is well trained?’

  ‘Yes. One of the best.’

  Abhimanyu smirked.

  The lights flickered a few times and eventually went out. After a couple moments, the backup power lit the room.

  ‘That’s weird.’ Amjad looked around. It was eerie in an army facility.

  ‘What’s next for you?’

  ‘NIA.’

  The lights flickered and tripped again. This time, it took longer for it to come back.

  ‘Something is wrong.’ Amjad stood, and his phone rang; it was Major Prakash. ‘Why are the lights flickering?’

  ‘We’re under attack. Gunmen, perhaps fedayeen.’ He had never heard a soldier’s voice so frightened. ‘They’ve breached the gates and are inside the army intelligence hospital wing.’ ‘Where is the firing happening?’

  ‘G1 block.’

  Amjad frowned. ’Sasha. They’re here for her.’

  ‘You have to go,’ Abhimanyu said.

  ‘I can’t leave you behind.’ Amjad would not take chances.

  A thunderous knock sounded at their door. Two masked gunmen looked through the door window.

  Amjad looked back at them and unholstered his pistol.

  The gunmen shot at the door, but the room was bulletproof. Each door, made of a ton of steel, could only be opened with due authorizations.

  Amjad shouted into the phone almost in a panic, which was very unlike of him, ‘They are into the military wing as well!’

  The gunmen shot at the glass, but it held up.

  ‘My men are on their way. Don’t open the door. Stay there,’ Prakash said, but Amjad wasn’t sure how long the glass would hold.

  Amjad realized he couldn’t stay there for long either. He had to be out there, fighting the fedayeens.

  ‘You have to go, Amjad.’

  He nodded. ‘And you will come with me,’ he said to Abhimanyu, gently removing all the intravenous connectors then helping him get onto the window. Amjad knew the safest place for Abhimanyu. There could be no safer place than the underground bunker now, and every floor had access to it. He helped Abhimanyu through the window railings and followed him through.

  Thanks to the shadows between the buildings, no one had a direct sight of them. Once they reached the corridor, Amjad kneeled forward to check. Two men lay dead—medical staff. There was no other noise. Amjad helped Abhimanyu to the lift at the end of the corridor. The lift would take him to the underground bunker directly. ‘Stay there. Don’t come out.’ He gave him his Glock 26.

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’ll manage.’ He pressed the lift button.

  Abhimanyu was secured.

  Amjad turned back and took the stairs. After crossing two levels, he heard shots. The terrorists were approaching the fire exit. They couldn’t access the lifts, so they were using staircases to move from one floor to another. They were coming to him. Amjad hid behind the wall and waited for them. He heard two distinct footsteps. As the boots neared, Amjad took a deep breath and stopped breathing.

  The first of them opened the door and moved forward. He was laced with grenades, ready to sacrifice his life.

  Amjad let the second gunman behind him enter the corridor. He was in a dark spot behind the door—a blind spot to the fedayeens. As soon as the second gunman entered, Amjad emerged with his hands first and pounced on his wrists. After a three-finger press, he directed the gun at the first gunman who was right ahead and shot him in the head before he could turn back. Amjad hit the second gunmen at his knee, and, as he fell to the wall, he shot him in the head. Amjad grabbed their semi-automatic and left.

  He rushed from wall to wall and entered the army intelligence wing. He swiped his card and went straight for the control room to Major Prakash. Amjad planned to take a contingent and secure Sasha. Amidst sporadic gunshots, Amjad strode from one alley to another, which were completely empty. Everyone had locked themselves inside the steeled rooms. Finally, he reached the control room. After a credential check, the door opened.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Major Prakash asked.

  ‘Barely. How many of them are there?’

  ‘Twelve. We’ve launched two assault teams. Four of the terrorists have been neutralized.’

  ‘Why have they come here to die?’
>
  ‘I don’t know. They seem to be withdrawing. They’ve formed a cordon and are pushing toward the parking area. If they have an exit plan from there, our snipers will take them out as soon as they emerge.’

  ‘And what about Sasha?’

  ‘Safe and secured. Still inside her room, locked down.’ He put her on the screen.

  She lay on her bed calmly and seemingly unperturbed by the shooting.

  Amjad didn’t like the smell of it. ‘They didn’t come in here to die then only try to escape now?’

  ‘I don’t know why they’ve come in here. But they’ve surely chosen a wrong target.’ Prakash’s confidence was in stark difference to Amjad’s paranoia.

  ‘Sir, firing at the officer’s mess.’

  The sharp voice disturbed Prakash greatly. His confidence vanished in thin air, and a pale expression crossed his face. At least fifteen unarmed officers were inside the officer’s mess. Without wasting any time, Prakash grabbed his transceiver. ‘Team Alpha and Team Charlie, move to the officer’s mess, secure the mess. I repeat, secure the mess. Unarmed officers under attack.

  I repeat, unarmed officer’s under attack.’ If they were to die unarmed, it would be an unforgivable disaster.

  All eyes were on the mess now. Amjad watched attentively. Things were moving too fast. He looked at the screen with Sasha.

  She was still on it, lying down with the calmness of a monk. She stood to have a glass of water.

  Amjad studied the screen, trying to see the time on the clock in the background. Everything became as clear as the sky to him. ‘Prakash, get your men right down in G1 block now! The video feed is doctored!’

  Panic struck the control room.

  ‘What do you mean doctored?’

  ‘Look at the time. It says ten a.m. It is an old feed.’

  They had been played. Prakash was shellshocked and stood there motionless.

  Amjad shook him. ‘Send in a team, Prakash. Now.’

  Prakash regained his consciousness and to the transceiver. ’Team Charlie, come in! Team Charlie, come in! Move in to secure G1 block, immediately! Get me the real feed, now,’ Prakash demanded as his men scurried to ascertain the problem.