Singh sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
‘Sometimes I wish I was still a spy,’ he said.
‘It was much better back then, wasn’t it?’ Mirza asked.
Singh shook his head and pushed open the door to Shukla’s room. Daniel was sitting in a chair next to him. He stood up as Singh and Mirza entered.
‘I’m not done with you, young man,’ Singh said, glaring at Daniel as he walked out of the room.
‘How’re you feeling?’ Mirza asked Shukla.
‘Better,’ Shukla said.
‘You want to tell me what’s been going on, Shukla?’
Singh said.
Shukla shifted in his bed before speaking.
‘Around three months ago, I was contacted by this person,’ he began. ‘Extremely cautious. Extremely paranoid. Never revealed his name or location. Called using different numbers every time. But he fed me some really good information about a couple of sleeper cells in Kashmir, which established his credibility. So I began to trust him.’
‘Okay,’ Singh said.
‘Then, a month ago, he called me up again. Told me that Naidu’s accident was not an accident. Even gave me leads about the truck driver’s whereabouts. It led me to believe he was in Mumbai, so I came down here to try and verify it. Sure enough, I found the truck driver where the guy had said he would be. Incidentally, Daniel Fernando, whom I’d worked with earlier, was engaged to Naidu’s daughter. I knew I could trust him, so I reached out to him. It took time and by then, Naidu was already dead.’
‘You should have come to me, Shukla,’ Singh said furiously. ‘If someone’s killed the former prime minister of the bloody country…’
‘I’ll come to that, sir,’ Shukla cut in.
Singh clenched his jaw but said nothing.
‘I passed on whatever information I had to Daniel. I had to get him to trust me, because we didn’t exactly leave things on a cordial note when we parted ways.’
‘I’m not interested in your history with Fernando,’ Singh said impatiently.
‘While I was waiting for Daniel to get back to me, something else happened.’
‘What?’ Mirza asked.
‘I have this arrangement with an agent in Kolkata. He uses a number only known to a select few, including Somesh Kumar. I’d worked with Kumar sir when I was running a few missions in collaboration with the BSF. It is one of my secure points of contact, a way to reach me and only me without anyone else knowing.
‘This agent informed me that a message had come in for me from Kumar sir. Because of the precautions I had taken, that message was routed through several other stops before it reached Kolkata and hence, it was received several days after his death. I switched off all my other phones and flew to Kolkata immediately. The message Kumar sir had left for me was short but shocking.
‘Way back, when military intelligence and the BSF were working together, we’d picked up someone in Kashmir. His interrogation gave us some really valuable information about a sleeper cell in Mumbai. As the cell was not active at the time, we decided to just watch it till their handlers made contact. Only a few people knew about it. Kumar sir, Naidu sir – who was the PM at the time – and I.’
‘And?’ Mirza asked.
‘And someone in our government had recently started trying to find out about that cell. We’d set up a system that would immediately trigger a silent alert to only one of us if someone tried accessing that information. Naidu sir got that alert and got in touch with Kumar sir, using a SIM card obtained under a false name. When Kumar sir found himself under attack, he passed on the information to me. I can only assume that he then managed to destroy his SIM card, even as his convoy was under attack,’ Shukla finished.
There was silence in the room.
Singh’s shoulders slumped.
He walked over to a chair and sat down. Mirza brought his wrist-mic up to his mouth.
‘Move in, please,’ was all he said.
The door opened and Daniel, Vikrant and Shaina walked in. All of them were armed with handguns. Silently, Daniel and Vikrant stood in a loose formation near Singh while Shaina locked the door from inside and stood with her back against it.
‘We just debriefed Ayyub,’ Vikrant said. ‘He told us that he was contacted by a nameless, faceless voice who helped him enter India through Bangladesh seven months ago. Once here, he met Rehmat and then contacted Dhanraj Shetty to set up the financing operation with Ghazi’s help. But the most interesting thing he told us was that this person would always talk to him from Qatar through a SIM box operation.’
Vikrant brought out a sheet of paper from behind his back.
‘Quite hard to travel under the radar, isn’t it, sir?’ he said to Singh. ‘When you’re the NSA of the country? Your travel records are always easily available, due to all that red tape and protocol.’
‘You were the source, weren’t you, you bastard?’ Shukla growled. ‘You planned the whole thing. You were the one person who had access to every bit of information that every agency has about sleeper cells in the country.’
There was nothing except a stony silence from Singh.
‘But you also wanted Ayyub and Rehmat to fail. That’s why you called me at the last minute, informing me about the plan to kill the DRDO team. You even knew exactly where Rehmat would be. Because she was in touch with you throughout. That’s why I had to take a chopper from Kolkata. I was supposed to find Rehmat and kill her.’
Mirza spoke up.
‘That’s also why you splashed Ayyub’s face across the news. Mazhar was supposed to see it and come to us. You contacted Ayyub and offered him a chance to avenge his brother’s supposed death. You knew we would use the fact that Mazhar was alive to our advantage and turn Ayyub over to our side. And as a fail-safe, you passed on Rehmat’s whereabouts to Shukla as well.’
‘Not just that,’ Vikrant added. ‘Even Sopan Patil’s escape was planned. You wanted us to find him, not just learn the truth about Naidu sir’s death from Shukla. You wanted us to get as much information as we could. I’m willing to bet that you created all that chatter on the dark net about Al Barq as well. Those DRDO scientists were never meant to be harmed.’
‘Or,’ Mirza said, ‘maybe Rehmat’s orders were to take them alive? Keep them hostage? So you could once again leak their whereabouts to us and get them rescued?’
Singh finally spoke.
‘Good luck proving any of that,’ he said.
‘Is that a challenge, Yusuf?’ Mirza asked scornfully. ‘Look around you. This is a team of the finest people I have. Some are investigators. Some are soldiers. Together, we’ll bury you so deep you won’t even know which way is up.’
‘We’ll start with your travel logs,’ Vikrant told Singh. ‘We’ll go to Qatar and trace your movements. And I don’t think it will be too hard to establish exactly who was in a position to know about two sleeper cells in Mumbai, the two in Kashmir that you told Shukla about and Kumar sir’s visit to Mumbai the minute it was finalized.’
‘And then,’ Mirza added. ‘There’s also that small matter of the DRDO scientists. Apart from them, only you, me and the PM knew that they were coming to Mumbai. And with the kind of work those guys do, they’re under constant surveillance anyway, so good luck trying to pin the leak on any of them.’
Singh looked at Vikrant and Mirza, and then looked away.
‘Still feeling smug, asshole?’ Daniel asked.
Singh was silent.
‘This was all based on my report, wasn’t it, Singh?’ Mirza asked, looking furious. ‘The report I’d turned in all those years ago about sleeper cells? That’s where the idea came from?’
Singh shrugged.
‘We should have acted on that report then,’ he said. ‘We didn’t. So I put it to good use.’
Vikrant quickly moved in and stood between Mirza and Singh, and for good reason. Mirza looked like h
e was about to punch Singh in the face.
‘What was this about?’ Shaina asked, disgust written all over her face. ‘You wanted to look like a hero for preventing a major attack? Was this about reelecting Desai?’
‘Desai?’ Singh said scornfully. ‘That spineless bastard? He didn’t even have the guts to sanction a new surveillance technology. This attack, even if it was prevented at the last minute, would have changed his mind.’
‘Wait,’ Daniel said. ‘This was about the surveillance technology that Amarsons was pushing? Naidu uncle died for that?’
‘That technology would have taken us to the bloody next level,’ Singh snapped, righteousness seeping into his voice. ‘We currently have no resources to track calls made through VoIP or SIM boxes except random interception, which doesn’t work half the time. Amarsons were pushing a technology to add voice capturing to the already existing CCTV network. We could have picked up lakhs of calls, even if one-sided, every day. Plus, non-telephonic conversations. Look at the US. Look at what they did with the same technology.’
‘The US,’ Mirza said, ‘has become a monster with scant regard for the privacy of its citizens.’
‘Citizens don’t get to enjoy privacy and security at the same time. Sacrifices need to be made.’
‘You don’t get to decide that, you son of a bitch,’ Daniel said. ‘That is a call that the people of the country get to make.’
‘The people of the country are bloody fools who like to air their opinions on Twitter and feel good about themselves. It’s us who have to fight so that they can continue to do so!’
‘And are you telling me,’ Mirza said quietly, ‘that if I go through your bank accounts, I won’t find a hefty payout from Amarsons in exchange for pushing their agenda?’
34
Vikrant was sitting by himself in a remote corner of the base, smoking, when Shukla came over and joined him.
‘Care for a smoke?’ Vikrant asked
‘Naah, I quit a year ago,’ Shukla said, sitting down next to him.
The storm had died down. Singh was formally placed under arrest by the IB and taken to an undisclosed location for interrogation. Prime Minister Desai had hemmed and hawed but ultimately accepted that Singh’s sins would have to be revealed to the world. It was a blow that the country would take time to recover from, but it could not be avoided.
Ayyub had surprised everyone by saying that he would voluntarily waive off any chance at getting immunity in exchange for his cooperation. Vikrant had broken the news to Mazhar, who looked crushed, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Mirza had let the brothers have one last day together.
Daniel had left the base half an hour ago. He had to have a very difficult conversation with Vaishali. Now that all the facts were out in the open, he knew he could not delay it any longer.
Both Vikrant and Mirza had offered to go with him, but he only shook his head.
‘I’ve broken the trust she placed in me,’ he said. ‘This is something I need to deal with on my own.’
Vikrant and Mirza nodded their understanding.
‘Plus,’ Daniel said with a slight grin, ‘I still haven’t forgiven you for cutting me out of the action and making me babysit Ayyub instead.’
Vikrant pulled Daniel into a hug.
‘Madman Dan,’ he said. ‘Stay mad.’
‘Toothpick Vik,’ Dan responded, patting Vikrant’s shoulder. ‘Stay safe.’
Daniel turned to Mirza.
‘Any advice?’ he asked.
‘With Vaishali?’ Mirza replied. ‘Do I look like I have any expertise in that department?’
Daniel chuckled and left.
Shaina had left as well, announcing her decision to take a break.
‘I seem to need a break every time I cross paths with you people,’ she said to Vikrant and Mirza before leaving.
Goyal and Jaiswal had gone back to their postings in Mumbai. They had invited Kadam for a drink at Jaiswal’s place that night, and he had happily agreed. They had a lot to talk about.
Ramesh Pawshe, Sopan Patil and Dhanraj Shetty had been officially arrested and charged with waging war against the nation under the Indian Penal Code.
MOSSAD had agreed to not pursue their grievance with Mirza and Vikrant in light of the larger crisis they had to deal with. Plus, Vikrant had told Solo and Samuel that every bit of intelligence gleaned from Ayyub that was pertinent to MOSSAD or Israel would be shared with them on a priority basis.
Before he left, Solo had shaken Vikrant’s hand and said, ‘You and Mirza have my respect. And that’s saying something.’
Only Mirza, Vikrant, Mankame and Shukla remained on the base. Shukla and Mankame because they were recuperating, Vikrant and Mirza because they were overseeing the wrap-up of the case.
An uneasy silence prevailed between Vikrant and Mirza. They spoke only as much as necessary and avoided each other the rest of the time.
‘How much do you know about Mirza, Singh?’ Shukla said, settling down on the ground in a more comfortable position.
‘What?’ Vikrant asked. The last thing he wanted to talk about was Mirza.
‘I worked with him in Kashmir, you know,’ Shukla said. ‘When he was young and I was younger. Everybody knew he was going to be a star even back then.’
‘Oh, is that so?’ Vikrant asked stiffly.
‘That was till 2001. He ever tell you about that?’
Vikrant said nothing.
‘There was this informant we were working with jointly. A teenage girl. As lovely as the valley itself and so bloody passionate. She would work with her brother at a kahwa stall they ran in one of the more troubled parts of the place. She’d make the tea in the kitchen and he would sell it. She would overhear tons of information the entire day while the customers interacted with her brother, who was a bit on the extremist side. She learned to operate a radio, mastered the Morse code in no time. The brother would get high on Kashmir’s finest hash every night and pass out, and she’d pass on the day’s information to us.’
Vikrant said nothing.
‘That was till the day some of her brother’s friends, who were even more involved in the separatist movement than he was, started suspecting where the leak was coming from.’
‘What happened?’ Vikrant asked finally.
‘Some men paid them a visit in the middle of the night. Found him passed out and her on the radio. Carved out their internal organs with kitchen knives and left them strewn around their hollowed-out bodies. Neighbours later told us that the screams kept them awake the entire night.’
Vikrant said nothing. He couldn’t.
‘Forget that the entire village closed its doors to us after that night. Forget that we faced a lot of flak internally. After that night, Mirza changed. He never said anything, but his methods changed completely. Earlier, he would always take an interest in the personal lives of his informants. Take their family situations, their needs into account. He would actually have a separate dossier about them and had a team to take care of their needs. After that night, he dissolved the team. He changed so drastically, it was scary for the rest of us to watch.’
Vikrant was holding his head.
‘The next time I saw him smile after that was when I met him at some conference. He was telling me about you, and he was genuinely happy.’
‘Don’t,’ Vikrant said.
Shukla let out a deep breath.
‘Do me a favour, Vikrant,’ he said. ‘The next time you see Daniel, please tell him I’m genuinely sorry for the way things went down in Baramulla. Tell him it was essential, but I’m not proud of the way it happened. He’ll understand. At least I hope he will.’
Vikrant only nodded.
Shukla stood up with some difficulty and walked away. Vikrant lit one more cigarette.
He had almost finished it when he became aware of a presence behind him. He didn’t have to tur
n around to know it was Mirza. The older man sat down beside him just as the sound of sirens reached their ears. Vikrant turned to look at the gate and saw a convoy of three vehicles entering.
‘I had Mankame’s fiancée driven down,’ Mirza said before Vikrant could ask. ‘Figured they needed to have a chat, what with Mankame calling her up and telling her she should move on and what not.’
Vikrant looked at his mentor with a mix of affection and mock surprise.
‘What?’ Mirza asked a little sourly.
‘For a moment,’ Vikrant said, ‘JUST for a moment, I almost thought I heard a heart beating in there somewhere.’
‘I will put a bullet in your kneecap, boy …’ Mirza growled.
Author’s Note
There are many who ask me what makes my fiction so engaging. My answer is always the same: it isn’t fiction, it’s ‘faction’ – a mix of fact and fiction.
There are several incidents and issues in The Endgame that are rooted in fact. For instance, the negligible verification conducted by cellular service providers while selling SIM cards is a well-known fact and an often-lamented hurdle when it comes to the investigation of crimes. The sheer number of SIM cards that a criminal element or, more importantly, a terrorist element could have at their disposal because salesmen who sit under umbrellas outside retail stores are only concerned with meeting their targets, has been a fear expressed by many a cop to me.
Similarly, the SIM box technology is something that has law enforcement agencies across the country sitting up and taking notice. In 2019 alone, the Mumbai Crime Branch, the Maharashtra ATS and the Delhi Special Cell, to name a few, have busted such rackets in various parts of the country.
As much as we’d like to turn a blind eye to it, years of persecution and the resultant bitterness among minority communities is also very real. So is the fact that radicalization is now much easier because of the Internet and the developments in the online space. One has to only read up on self-styled preachers like Zakir Naik to see what kind of reach and effect such people might have on the young, uneducated youth who has better access to 4G Internet than proper education. Gullible Muslim youths have been travelling to Iraq and Syria to join ISIS to establish a global caliphate. I did not dwell much on the issue, but it is something which parents and elders have to be vigilant about. Several hundred youths including teenage girls from Kerala and Maharashtra got radicalized by the unfulfilled promises of paradise.
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