The Zero-Cost Mission/The Wily Agent

by Amar Bhushan

  That evening, Kabir reported to Jeev on his meeting with the source.

  ‘Sir, the meeting went well. He spoke very fondly of his association with Sohrab, but sir, his opinion of you was not very flattering.’ Kabir paused before continuing. ‘He thought you were too stiff and businesslike and could not be a friend. He particularly disliked the manner in which you admonished him for talking to Sohrab.’

  ‘I am not surprised. All my sources think alike. In fact, I thought that I was being too cordial,’ Jeev remarked.

  ‘Sir, he also said that for the risk that he was going to take, your offer of three hundred dollars was peanuts. He expects to be paid at least five hundred dollars a month.’

  ‘Did he hand over a report?’ Jeev asked.

  ‘He has submitted nine cables. He gave them to me of his own accord. I didn’t ask for them because it was our first meeting,’ Kabir said and then passed Jeev a folder.

  Jeev glanced cursorily through the cables before placing the folder on the side table.

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Sir, Rehman wants us to know that he will be able to collect and share only those messages that pass through his desk during his eight-hour shift. He will have no access to cables that are received either outside of his hours of duty or by his eleven other colleagues.’

  ‘Did you ask him whether he could motivate his colleagues in the cipher section to work for us in the near future?’ Jeev asked.

  ‘Yes, sir, but he asked me to be patient. He claimed that everything was possible, but he would not subvert his colleagues or steal cables from them unless we committed to pay him a substantially higher amount,’ Kabir said.

  ‘I hope he is not exaggerating his potential. Try not to commit anything for the time being, but if he insists, tell him that everything will depend on what kind of information he provides,’ Jeev cautioned.

  ‘Sir.’

  ‘Did you work out the operational drill?’

  ‘Yes, sir. It was Rehman who selected our meeting places and the drop boxes and finalized the mode and frequency of our communication both during normal times and in emergencies. It almost seemed as if he was my running officer and I was his source. It is sometimes scary to hear him speak about how to defeat surveillance and what counter-measures I have to take when approaching the drop boxes. Sir, I have never met a source like him before.’

  ‘I also feel that he is too smart for any operative’s liking. Your skill in running a source will be fully tested this time,’ Jeev remarked.

  He then called in his secretary and dictated a cable for Aroop Das. He gave the details of his initial discussion with the source and Kabir’s meeting with him and provided the highlights of the contents of the nine cables. He also mentioned that Rehman would probably not work for less than five hundred dollars a month as his salary.

  A week later, Jeev received a biting communication from Aroop.

  ‘I read your cable. Two hundred and fifty dollars is the maximum that can be sanctioned for the trash that the source has provided. I am not interested in learning about political developments in other countries from him. You are a senior officer and should have known better.’

  Jeev seethed with anger and wasted no time in sending a strong rejoinder.

  ‘Rehman is a gold mine. It will be a mistake to lose him due to our petty squabbles. This is his first set of messages. Who knows what he will bring to us in the future? I cannot understand this constraint of money. We seldom blink an eyelid in sanctioning huge sums to sustain bogus operations. As for my seniority, I am not sure if twenty-two years of service is enough for being called “senior” since I am still being dictated to by all and sundry. Please have a fresh look at this prospect.’

  Jeev waited for a venomous response, but it did not arrive. Barua, however, called. He confided that Aroop had been furious after reading Jeev’s reply, but had decided against sending a scathing response for reasons best known to him. He had, however, claimed that he had shown the cable to Rajamohan who, according to him, was upset and had assured Aroop that he would pull up Jeev for his behaviour.

  ‘Aroop is lying as usual,’ Jeev said. ‘Rajamohan spoke to me only this morning seeking my advice on an operational matter concerning one of his assets, but he mentioned nothing about my cable.’

  There was silence for a few seconds.

  ‘Sir, Aroop is adamant on sanctioning only two hundred and fifty dollars a month to Rehman and not a penny more. Since he knows that you will protest, he has taken Mr Rajamohan’s approval on file before he conveys the decision to you,’ Barua updated him.

  ‘I don’t know why Rajamohan listens to him. Tell Aroop that you spoke to me and I want him to know that I will continue to pay three hundred dollars a month to the source. It’s for him to decide whether he reimburses the bill in full or in installments. I cannot let this operation suffer because of him.’

  ‘Sir, he has also decided to review the operation after three months. After that he will let you know whether the source needs to be dropped or maintained on a nominal sum.’

  ‘Let him do what he does best, which is conspiring. Reviewing the work of officers and assets objectively has never been his forte,’ Jeev said in disgust and hung up.

  For the next three months Rehman regularly submitted secret and top-secret cables to Kabir. In every meeting he asked for an increase in his salary, claiming that he was putting his life at stake, and in return receiving a sum that was not even enough to buy groceries for a week.

  ‘Sir, Rehman continues to push for an increase in his salary. This time, he threatened to stop working if it wasn’t hiked to seven hundred and fifty dollars immediately,’ Kabir briefed Jeev on his latest meeting with the source.

  ‘And what did you say?’ Jeev asked.

  ‘I told him that every effort was being made to meet his financial requirements, but he dismissed my reassurances. He said that unlike you, Sohrab wielded significant clout with officers at headquarters and never had any problems in obtaining funds for his assets. He thinks that because of your domineering attitude you cannot get officers at headquarters to support you. He called you a lone wolf and is not sure whether his association with us can last more than a year.’

  ‘I guess he’s right,’ Jeev said, smiling. ‘For now, try and pacify him as best you can.’

  However, this time Jeev took Rehman’s threat a little more seriously and wrote a more measured and persuasive note to Aroop, underlining the potential of the source, his monetary expectations and how he proposed to utilize him.

  Aroop refused to even acknowledge the communication.

  But once again, Barua called. ‘Sir, he showed me your letter, but he is neither going to act on it nor reply.’

  ‘Has he shown it to Rajamohan?’ Jeev enquired.

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Is he in the habit of not putting up papers received from the field if they are not to his liking?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Actually, you should have sent your requirement via a cable, as all cables are seen by Rajamohan and the Chief.’

  ‘I see. And what has he done with the quarterly review of Rehman’s performance?’ Jeev enquired.

  ‘Usually the branch carries out the review and sends the draft to him. But in this case, Aroop himself reviewed the output of the source and has assessed his performance as below par. He has dubbed almost all his reports as insipid, sketchy and routine. We sent you his remarks yesterday,’ Barua said.

  ‘Thanks. I will read his report when it comes, but tell me the gist of what he has written.’

  ‘Let me read out the relevant portions from the original file,’ Barua said and began reading:

  ‘Evidently Rehman has not been properly briefed on our priorities. That is why he is offering vague and generalized reports on countries that are of no concern to us. If the source is not squeezed hard in the beginning, he will not make any effort to procure hard intelligence in the security and strategic areas. There will be no increase in his sa
lary till the next review.’

  ‘Aroop is merely repeating himself,’ Jeev said. ‘He has conveniently ignored the fact that Rehman has also provided information on Dhaka’s recent interest in the acquisition of military hardware from Islamabad, the proposed visit of the Bangladesh Army chief to Pakistan and how Dhaka plans to corner India on its repeated allegations that Bangladesh is sponsoring insurgency from its soil.’

  ‘Sir, in our internal discussions prior to his writing the review, I reminded him of these very points, but he brushed them aside,’ Barua confided.

  ‘You have done what you could. You can’t chisel sand.’

  Jeev was caught in a dilemma. He had to find a way to keep Rehman motivated to continue providing reports without being distracted by his insatiable greed for money, and to make Aroop understand that there was enormous benefit in retaining the source even at a high cost. He decided he would first tackle the source and handle Aroop later and asked Kabir to set up a meeting with the source sometime during the following week.

  The meeting turned out to be a nightmare. At 1.30 p.m., Kabir took Jeev to the designated meeting place, a restaurant in downtown Dhaka. The place was Rehman’s choice; he had told Kabir that it was famous for its kebab and keema roti, cooked by chefs who traced their culinary expertise to their forefathers who had served in the court of Nawab Siraj-ud-Daulah. It was located in a dingy and crowded lane some hundred and twenty metres away from the main road. It was tiny, the smell of food and sweat was overwhelming, and it was so packed that Jeev had to turn and twist his way through, only to find there was no table available. The walls were painted a garish green, the curtains were filthy and the tables were covered with cheap printed plastic sheets. Several people were standing outside, waiting impatiently for a table, and those inside were mobbing the lone man who was taking orders, receiving payments and directing guests to tables. Suffocated, Jeev decided to leave after fifteen minutes, chiding Kabir for selecting such a dreadful place for a source meeting.

  ‘Sir, I knew you wouldn’t like it. I had the same reaction when he brought me to reconnoitre the place. I repeatedly told him to shift the venue to Lemon Grass, but he was insistent. He said that it was safer to discuss business in a crowded place rather than in a quieter restaurant in a posh locality,’ Kabir clarified.

  ‘Rubbish. How can one discuss anything in this chaos?’ Jeev asked in annoyance as he shouldered his way out.

  Both waited outside the restaurant for another half hour, but there was no sign of Rehman. Fed up, Jeev told Kabir they were leaving.

  ‘Sir, I’m surprised Rehman didn’t show. This is the first ever miss by him; he usually keeps his appointments and if for some reason he can’t, he has always let me know in advance,’ Kabir said, trying to soothe the ruffled feathers of his boss as they walked towards the main road.

  Jeev said nothing.

  ‘Sir, it is possible that he was caught by the CEU watchers,’ Kabir continued.

  ‘Let’s not flirt with nightmares,’ Jeev snapped. ‘For all you know, he may have just forgotten.’

  ‘Sir, there is definitely something wrong. He may appear to be very brave, but he is actually timid. He keeps talking about his contacts in the NSI and Special Branch, probably to reassure himself that nothing will happen to him. He is the kind of person who will crack easily and spill everything the moment he is tackled hard.’

  By now they had reached the main road and Jeev was looking for a rickshaw. Suddenly, he saw Rehman. He was right behind Kabir. He tapped Kabir on his right shoulder and quickly slipped a piece of paper into his back pocket. Before Jeev could question him, the source was gone. Kabir pulled out the typed message and read it aloud to Jeev:

  ‘Our meetings will have to be brief in future. I suspect I am being followed by CEU watchers, but I may be wrong. I will, however, continue to fill the drop boxes. Bring my enhanced salary when we meet next.’

  ‘He is playing games with us. No one is watching him,’ Jeev said. ‘This note is his way of reminding us that we need him more than he needs us and that we therefore have to follow his dictates. I suggest you skip one or two meetings deliberately and when you see him next, tell him that you will choose the venue for meeting in future.’

  Strangely, there was no word from Rehman for the next two months, but he kept filling the drop boxes with cables and collecting his salary from them. Then, one day at 4.30 a.m., he called Kabir.

  ‘Sorry to wake you so early, but I’m on the night shift and took the opportunity to call you,’ he began. ‘I don’t have much time, so I’ll keep this short. If it is convenient for your boss, we can dine at Jharna Grill in the Sonargaon Hotel on Friday at 8.30 p.m. They serve excellent authentic Bangladeshi seafood.’

  ‘I’ll speak to my boss and confirm.’

  ‘Okay,’ Rehman said and hung up.

  Kabir tried to sleep but could not. Something about the call bothered him. The timing, date and place of the meeting were suspicious. In the past, the source had always met him during lunch hours at crowded eating joints and that too only on working days. Jharna Grill, on the other hand, was not only expensive but also exclusive. Was it possible that the CEU had discovered Rehman’s involvement in espionage, taken him into custody for interrogation and had then forced him to set up the dinner to find out who his handlers were? But if that were so, how was it that he had continued to deliver cables to the drop boxes? Could they have been doctored?

  When he shared his fears with Jeev, the latter agreed that while anything was possible, he would nonetheless not dump the source without first going to Jharna Grill.

  ‘Maybe for a change he wants to eat in decent surroundings at my cost. I think we should bite the bait. As a precaution, tell him that we will be going there only to enjoy the food. There will be no discussion about work, no documents will be exchanged and no payments will be made,’ he said.

  Kabir later put a note conveying Jeev’s directions in drop box 4.

  The meeting at Jharna Grill never materialized. At 8.15 p.m. on Friday, Jeev entered the restaurant and sat at a table facing the entrance. He told the waiter that he was expecting a friend and ordered an onion soup and prawn bites to bide the time. But neither Rehman nor Kabir turned up. Finally, at 9.30 p.m., he paid the bill and left.

  When he reached home, Manini was having her dinner. He joined her at the dining table and served himself some vegetables and salad.

  ‘Weren’t you supposed to have dinner with your source or whoever he or she may be?’

  ‘The man did not turn up,’ Jeev said.

  After dinner, he sat in the living room to watch the news while Manini went to instruct the servants to shut the windows and doors as a storm had begun, lashing the trees in the compound, and a downpour seemed imminent. Suddenly, she heard someone knocking on the front door. She went to answer it and found Kabir standing there. She invited him in and directed him to the visitors’ room. Jeev joined him there after a few minutes.

  ‘What happened? Why didn’t you come to the restaurant?’ Jeev demanded as they settled down.

  ‘I am sorry, sir. Rehman caught me in the lobby of the hotel as I was heading to the restaurant. He seemed flustered and asked me to follow him discreetly. When we got to the parking lot, he finally told me that at the last moment, he had learnt from a friend that Jharna Grill was commonly used by foreign handlers to meet sources, and it was on the CEU watchers’ radar. I wanted to go back inside to inform you, but Rehman insisted on leaving the hotel immediately. We ended up at a small eatery called Star,’ Kabir explained.

  ‘If he knew that the place was unsafe, why did he choose the hotel to meet us in the first place?’

  ‘He said that he thought he’d take a chance and went to reconnoitre the restaurant before we arrived. However, when he spotted a couple of suspicious-looking men, he decided that it wasn’t safe for us to meet there and waited outside the hotel to whisk us away. But he must have missed you. When he didn’t see us, he went inside, where I me
t him,’ Kabir said.

  ‘This is all nothing but his theatrics. He is creating this surveillance scare to make us believe that he is endangering his life for us and that is why he needs to be paid more.’

  Kabir remained silent.

  ‘What did he have to say about his long absence?’ Jeev asked.

  ‘His mother-in-law died and he had to leave for the village to arrange for the funeral services.’

  ‘He is lying. It doesn’t take several weeks to arrange and attend a funeral service. Besides, if he really did leave town, he wouldn’t have been filling the drop boxes with cables every week,’ Jeev pointed out.

  ‘I am sorry, sir, that didn’t occur to me. In fact, I sympathized with him,’ Kabir said, mortified.

  ‘Clever sources often try to invoke pity to extract the handler’s indulgence. Avoid reacting to his personal problems as best as you can. Anyway, did you tell him that I was waiting at the Jharna Grill?’

  ‘Yes, sir. He said that he was very keen to meet you, but not at the cost of your safety. He also wanted to know why his salary had not been hiked and hinted that he might stop working for us. He also had some hot news, which he was keen to hand over to you personally. He asked me to check if a meeting on Friday at 12.30 p.m. at Haji Biryani would suit you,’ Kabir said.

  ‘That’s fine with me, but I doubt he will make it,’ Jeev said. ‘Where is the hot news that he claims to have gathered?’

  ‘Sir, he was initially hesitant to give it to me but later changed his mind.’

  Jeev went through the copies of the cables that Kabir handed to him. They were indeed hot, covering Dhaka’s directions to its ambassadors in Saudi Arabia and China about the Bangladeshi president’s forthcoming visit to those countries.

  ‘I knew he would come good one day,’ Jeev said, almost to himself. ‘How did you get here?’ he then asked.