by Amar Bhushan
‘So, there is a pattern to your initial meeting.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Going by the drill of your previous meetings, the worst-case scenario would be that Rehman meets you at the stairs and takes you to a rigged restaurant where he hands over classified cables in the presence of waiting CEU officials and the entire proceeding is videographed. Subsequently, you are apprehended and taken away for interrogation. Let us take this as a serious possibility and work out our strategy accordingly,’ Jeev said.
‘Sir, so you still think I should keep the appointment?’
‘Yes, but I will also join you in this mission,’ Jeev said.
Kabir was taken aback. He knew his boss’s propensity to take needless risks, but he didn’t think that he would go this far.
‘How long do you generally have to wait before he arrives at the meeting point?’ Jeev asked.
‘Sir, he always gets there before me. As soon as he sees me approaching the stairs, he makes contact and we quickly leave for wherever it is we decide to conduct the meeting. We then exchange money and cables and discuss anything relevant,’ Kabir said.
‘Fine. Both of us will go separately to the mosque and wait at different locations till Rehman shows up at the stairs. I will be somewhere in the garden, keeping an eye on the mosque’s entrance. You will watch the stairs from the handicraft store near the Bata shop. You will not move unless I ask you to, but keep informing me of his movements over the walkie-talkie. Remember to strictly follow the drill of communicating. In case he walks away and you are unable to contact me, leave immediately without waiting to reach me and follow him discreetly,’ Jeev explained.
‘Sir.’
‘You will not contact Rehman at the stairs under any circumstances. It will be interesting to see how he behaves if he does not find you for more than an hour. We have forty-eight hours before we embark on this trip. Let me know if you have any ideas on refining the plan,’ Jeev said.
That night, Jeev told Manini that there was a high probability that he would be expelled from Dhaka and would have to return to Delhi before completing even a quarter of his tenure.
‘How soon is this going to happen?’ Manini enquired.
‘Within the next two weeks.’
‘That sounds good. I don’t like this place, particularly the unending stream of diplomatic parties. And it will be nice being with our girls again. They will be thrilled to hear the news. I know you will regret losing the foreign allowance, but I am sure you can keep us adequately fed in Delhi with your salary.’
‘Will you have no regrets that your husband was thrown out ingloriously?’ Jeev asked.
‘Not at all. I know you won’t be withdrawn by headquarters for financial or moral improbity. If Dhaka finds you too hot to handle, you should be proud of your expulsion. Let me know when I have to start packing,’ she said and switched off the light.
Kabir’s wife Mula, however, was devastated. She would miss her daily evening visits to the fish market, her group of local friends and her thriving small-scale business of selling Jamdani saris at a good margin in Calcutta, which she sourced directly from the village weavers.
‘Why can’t you wriggle out of your operational commitment?’ she prodded. ‘You still have four months left to complete your tenure. Please do something to ensure that we stay here till then. It will help us pay for our son’s boarding school fees at R.K. Mission in Calcutta as well as pay off the remaining three instalments for our Salt Lake flat.’
‘I cannot let Mr Jeevnathan down. I would never be able to forgive myself if he were to be expelled and I stayed on to complete my tenure. I know he won’t relent whether I join him or not,’ Kabir said.
Mula fell silent, but she couldn’t sleep that night.
As they had planned, Jeev arrived at the venue at 6.30 p.m. and stood at a vantage point from where he had a clear view of the stairs leading to the mosque. Kabir went inside the handicraft shop but had to beat a hasty retreat as it was about to close for the day. He walked a few yards away and took up his position between two kiosks, some ten metres away from the staircase. At 7.10 p.m., Jeev spotted Rehman emerging from the mosque. He went and stood near a lamp post and looked around as if he were expecting someone. Ten minutes later he came halfway down the stairs, stood there for a while and then climbed back up to the main entrance of the mosque. There, he started pacing back and forth until, finally, a man approached him at 7.45 p.m. and handed him an envelope. Rehman opened it, looked at the contents, took out something from his pocket and gave it to the man. After chatting for a while, they came down the stairs together and were quickly swallowed up by the crowd. Jeev looked at his watch. It was 8.10 p.m. He called Kabir on the walkie-talkie.
‘I can no longer see them,’ Jeev informed him.
‘Sir, the source is standing near the bangle shop, but the stranger is nowhere in sight.
‘I am listening,’ Jeev said.
A couple of minutes later, Kabir updated him. ‘Sir, Rehman is sitting on a wooden bench.’ Five minutes later came the next update. ‘He is now moving towards the entrance of the mosque; he’s looking carefully in all directions. I think he’s waiting for me, probably to hand over the envelope.’
‘Has he ever waited for you for more than ten minutes at a public place in the past?’
‘No, sir. Maybe he’s waiting it out, thinking that I may be stuck in traffic.’
‘Perhaps. But if the envelope is meant for you, why did a stranger hand it over to him in an open place? I suspect he is from the CEU and couldn’t hand over the doctored document earlier. What intrigues me most is why Rehman would ask you and the stranger to meet him at the stairs at the same time,’ Jeev said.
‘Sir, maybe the stranger is Samad.’
‘Maybe.’ Jeev did not sound convinced. ‘Let the source wait,’ he instructed.
‘Sir.’
‘But keep covering him until he leaves. I am no longer in the garden and have left the mosque complex,’ Jeev said and disconnected.
After ten minutes, his receiver beeped.
‘Sir, Rehman is coming down the stairs, followed by the stranger. They have gone behind the bangle shop,’ Kabir reported hurriedly.
‘Follow them,’ Jeev said.
After a few minutes, Kabir reported that he had lost the source. ‘Should I remain in the area to see if he returns?’
‘No, I doubt he will. Go home.’
The wait for her husband’s arrival had never been so long for Mula. When he finally got home, she burst into tears of relief.
After dinner, as they took their daily stroll in the neighbourhood park, she told him that someone had called in his absence and given a number for him to call back on. Since the number was not familiar, Kabir rang up the following day from the office. It was Rehman who answered the call.
‘Why didn’t you come last evening?’ he enquired.
‘I did, but when I saw a man handing over an envelope to you, I got suspicious. This has never happened before. We always meet alone,’ Kabir reminded him.
The source laughed loudly. ‘Check drop box 4 tomorrow and leave my salary,’ he said and disconnected.
The following day when Kabir checked drop box 4, he found an envelope containing nine cables, four reports from the foreign office, a medical prescription and a note.
‘The man whom you saw was my contact in the foreign office. I had brought him along to introduce him to you; since your boss is reluctant to meet him, I thought you should meet him instead and assess his worth. You may then be able to persuade your chicken-hearted chief to run him as a regular source. He did not hand over any document but a medical prescription. He wanted your help in getting some medicines from Calcutta. I paid him two hundred dollars yesterday for his inputs. I hope you will reimburse this amount. Will your boss be free to take me out for dinner at Kasturi tomorrow at 9 p.m.?’
Jeev read the note. ‘I guess we underestimated his capacity to keep us on edge,’ he remarked wryly.
The following day, Kabir tried to contact the source but failed. Later in the evening, he left a note in drop box 4, confirming Jeev’s availability for dinner four days later, on Saturday.
A day prior to the dinner, Kabir went to check whether the source had collected the message. The drop box was empty, which meant that Rehman had picked up the note. At 6.00 a.m. on the day they were to meet, Rehman phoned Kabir to let him know that he had reserved a table for five at Kasturi. In addition to Kabir, Jeev and Rehman, there would be a new contact from the home minister’s office and a cipher assistant.
‘I don’t know why he is contacting so many officials on his own,’ Jeev said, annoyed, when Kabir briefed him on his conversation. ‘He may think that he is helping us in a big way, but he doesn’t realize that the more he tries to recruit government employees, the greater is the risk of his exposure. He should first discuss his contacts with me and only if I agree should he set up a meeting. In any case, inviting all of them together is a serious mistake. If he needs more money, I am prepared to give it to him, but there is a professional way of building one’s network of agents.’
‘Sir, I did question him on the wisdom of inviting his contacts. He assured me that he would not talk of work at the dinner. It was entirely up to us, how we approached them and guided the discussion. But he was certain that you would find them extremely useful and have no reservation in enlisting them as sources. He also said that to avoid his friends suspecting that he was working for the Agency, he would pay the bill, which we could reimburse later,’ Kabir said.
‘I am still not comfortable with meeting his friends over dinner. If he calls you, ask him to come alone. Also tell him that you will not be there. I want to have a one-to-one meeting to discuss a few sensitive matters,’ Jeev advised.
‘Sir.’
Later in the day, Jeevnathan cabled Aroop informing him about Rehman’s offer to introduce two officials and his reservations about meeting them. He wrote that Rehman had taken on the self-appointed role of talent spotter. The source apparently had no fear of being caught despite knowing that the prevailing surveillance situation was not conducive to even normal source work. He had therefore decided to continue using Rehman as a courier for his contacts, meeting them only later, over a period of time.
Aroop replied within hours that more than the cables that Rehman submitted, it was the reports from his contact in the foreign office that provided insightful and actionable intelligence. The cipher assistant handling China, he opined, would be a better bet than Rehman and he offered to pay any amount to buy his loyalty. In a rare gesture, he approved a reward of five hundred dollars for Rehman for his efforts in locating both officials. He also counselled Jeevnathan not to be overly concerned about the safety of Rehman and wondered why he failed to see the benefits of recruiting the other assets.
‘He is a fool,’ Jeev muttered as he finished reading Aroop’s response. ‘I am not going to encourage Rehman to go around bribing officials in sensitive positions to work for the Agency,’ he decided.
Kabir was unable to contact Rehman to convey Jeev’s insistence on a personal meeting. However, Rehman called at 6.45 that evening. He apologized that the dinner at Kasturi would have to be called off as he now had to work the night shift as well. He suggested that they could still meet at Haji Biryani at 8.00 p.m. for a quick dinner.
‘But my boss wants to brief you on some operational issues. He may not like to come merely for dinner,’ Kabir pointed out.
‘Okay. Then I can meet him on some other day, but you must come tonight. I will introduce you to my colleague from the cipher section. I haven’t told him about our working relationship. You will find him very useful. Quite a few of his colleagues are placed in sensitive positions in various key ministries. If you can recruit him, the Agency will eat out of your hands.’
Kabir agreed and went to clear the plan with Jeev.
Jeev thought Rehman was seriously risking his personal safety and acting in a cavalier fashion. He was also not happy with Kabir for allowing Rehman to speak of operational matters on an open line.
‘You should have discouraged him from mentioning the time and place of your meeting and disconnected as soon as he began talking of introducing the cipher assistant,’ he reprimanded Kabir.
‘I am sorry, sir. But he was speaking from a public booth and had no time to meet me in person.’
‘I don’t think you should meet him. He has made a habit of cancelling our meetings. He is taking us for a ride. But my greatest worry is that he refuses to take the threat of being watched seriously,’ Jeev remarked.
Kabir remained silent.
Jeev sighed. ‘Very well. If you still want to take a chance, I will come with you. While you meet the source and his contact at the restaurant, I will keep an eye on the watchers. But you will enter the restaurant only after Rehman arrives and we have a chance to assess the situation. Keep your walkie-talkie in your jacket. The moment you hear it buzz, leave the area, fast,’ he said.
Although Kabir felt that Jeev was making a simple operational meeting far too complicated, he did not protest.
At 7.30 that evening, Kabir parked his car behind the vegetable market near Haji Biryani and took a rickshaw to the restaurant. But he didn’t enter, instead positioning himself outside so that he could observe the entrance without being seen. Ten minutes later, Jeev also arrived at the meeting place. He asked the taxi driver to park the car in front of Haji Biryani and waited. At 8.00 p.m., a white Toyota Corolla stopped barely five metres ahead of his taxi. A man emerged from the car and went inside the restaurant. Moments later, Jeev spotted Rehman outside the restaurant, talking to a man in a grey shirt and blue trousers. They chatted briefly and the man gave Rehman what looked like a newspaper from a distance. The man then left and Rehman entered the restaurant. At 8.15 p.m., Kabir called.
‘Sir, I saw a man establishing contact with Rehman outside the restaurant. I think he could either be Samad or the cipher assistant.’
‘Yes, I saw him too. But I don’t think he is the cipher assistant or his contact from the foreign office. You must have seen that the man has already left. He couldn’t therefore be the person whom Rehman wanted you to meet. I think he has called you to meet the man who came in the Toyota and is now waiting in the restaurant,’ Jeev said.
‘Sir, now that Rehman has also gone inside, should I join them for dinner?’ Kabir asked.
‘You can take a chance. In any case, I am situated close to the entrance of the restaurant. If I see anything suspicious, I will immediately alert you, as we discussed. I wish you the best of luck,’ Jeev said and disconnected.
Forty-five minutes later, the man who had arrived in the Toyota Corolla emerged from the restaurant, got into the car and drove off. Rehman came out next and stood outside for a couple of minutes before leaving. Kabir was the last to appear. He quickly spotted Jeev.
‘Sir, I have brought some kebab for you,’ he said as he got into the taxi. The kebab was in reference to the information provided by Rehman. Jeev kept quiet, firmly discouraging Kabir to say anything further in the taxi. They got dropped off on the main road near the vegetable market where Kabir had parked his car.
‘Did anyone else join you and Rehman for dinner?’ Jeev enquired after they got into the car.
‘Yes, sir. The man who came in the Toyota. He is a serving colonel in Bangladesh Rifles. He was pleasant, and quite talkative. We did not discuss any intelligence matters nor did he show any interest in my background. He spoke mostly about the current impasse in Indo-Bangladesh relations and kept lecturing me on why Bangladeshis dislike Indians. After he left, Rehman told me that he had briefed the colonel about the Agency’s requirements and was sure that he would be willing to help us. He claimed that the colonel abhors Pakistanis, Jamaat, ISI and the current army dispensation in Bangladesh. He has strong pro-League leanings and could be a great asset for neutralizing anti-India activities on Bangladeshi soil. Rehman, however, believes that all
this will be possible only if you handle him deftly and pay generously.’
‘Was he not supposed to introduce his cipher assistant in this meeting? What happened to him?’ Jeev enquired.
‘Rehman lied to him that the dinner at Haji Biryani had to be cancelled because I had taken ill. Actually, when the colonel confirmed that he would be able to meet, he thought that it was more important for me to meet this officer. The cipher assistant could wait,’ Kabir said.
‘Did you ask him about the man in the grey shirt and blue trousers who met him outside the restaurant?’
‘Yes, sir. He said that he was his brother-in-law.’
‘He’s lying. I saw them exchange newspapers, which is an unusual thing to do with a brother-in-law in the middle of a market at 8.15 p.m. I suspect he was the cipher assistant who had come to hand over papers to him.’
‘Sir, I confronted him with the same doubts. He laughed and showed me the newspaper, which carried a news item with photographs of Rubeiya participating in a function at the school where she teaches. Both came to the market from their respective offices; Rehman to meet me and his brother-in-law to buy vegetables.’
‘Did you know that Rubeiya is a schoolteacher?’ Jeev asked.
‘Yes, sir. She teaches in a private English-medium school.’
‘Did Rehman again ask for more money?’ Jeev asked.
‘Yes, sir. He wants a thousand dollars more every month to keep his contacts productive. He is also keen to meet you to discuss how best to exploit the colonel in case you do not agree to handle him personally,’ Kabir said.
‘I don’t know why he is on a recruiting spree. What if someone betrays him over lower or delayed payments? The greed for money can bring out the worst in even the most virtuous. I will have to tell him to go slow when I meet him, but till that happens, I suggest you avoid meeting him and use only the drop boxes to receive reports and deliver pay packets,’ Jeev advised.
By this time they had reached Jeev’s residence. Jeev bid Kabir a good night and went in.