“We don’t have secrets from each other. I trust him to do what he judges best with what I tell him.”
“Good. Well, eat up, both of you. My wife made these specially for you.”
So far, other than admitting he’d passed on the ‘tip-off’, he’d said nothing that could have him brought in for questioning, let alone be charged for aiding treason. That admission was pretty incriminating, sure, but would be struck out as entrapment, and drag Shardul down too. But catching him out wasn’t the point. Had he heard enough to make those behind him interested?
We left a few minutes later, the conversation turned to harmless topics like children and the weather. Shardul relaxed as he climbed into his auto. “Think he took the bait?” I asked.
“Hard to tell. You sounded like the most rabid Kelon hater I’ve ever encountered.”
“Too much?”
“Perhaps not. Especially not now.” His emotions clouded with sadness. “There is so much hate around now, nothing seems extreme any more.”
“Unfortunately true.”
“So that will appeal, most likely. On the other hand, you did establish a propensity for betrayal.”
“Unavoidable, given my script.”
He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I know. Perhaps I should have thought about that, but then I wasn’t exactly consulted about the finer details, like us being lovers.”
“Yeah, I know. Um, listen...about that night—”
“I made that all up, yes. Don’t worry about that.”
His eyes were fixed on my jaw, where the transmitter had been fitted. Obviously he thought Captain Largosen might take him seriously.
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“There’s nothing else to talk about.” He turned away, gunned the engine and made the auto buck as it tore off.
“Be careful.”
“Then stop distracting me while I’m driving.”
“Shardul—”
“Are my wishes of so little importance?”
“No. Sorry.”
He drove towards the bridge. There was so much I wanted to say to him, to talk about, but it all fell under ‘too sensitive’ or ‘too painful’. So all I asked was, “What happens now?”
His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. “I’ll keep contact with him, encourage his interest. If the captain wants further information passed on, he’ll have to provide it.”
“Is Sanjeev connected to this killing last night?”
“I doubt it. That’s my next call—the parents of the accused.”
“You’d work for a cop killer.”
“Alleged cop killer, Javen, and yes. It’s my job. Always has been. I serve my people, not yours, and the law for both. I might have sold my soul for this...business...but I haven’t forgotten my ideals.”
“Neither have I. I need to talk to you about this, Shardul.”
“I can’t. Please...just don’t.”
I wished I could shake him, make him listen. Once we were so close, such good friends. Now it was like we stood on opposite sides of this bridge we were crossing now, able to see but unable to hear, or touch.
But what divided us wasn’t a river, but genetics, religion and history. And nothing could bridge that without both of us wanting it. He didn’t now, even though he might have once.
He dropped me off in town without saying another word to me and I caught a taxi to the station house. I’d barely left the taxi when an auto slipped into position in front of me. Captain Largosen leaned out of the open door and beckoned me in.
“I think that went well,” he said, sitting back as the auto drove on. “You think so?”
“You heard us talking. Shardul has some reservations. I can’t tell, since I don’t know the man.”
“Fair enough. I thought you two sounded convincing. But there’s clearly an unresolved issue between you. I’m concerned it might force Sri Shardul to stop cooperating.”
“It won’t, I promise.”
“It better not, sergeant. This is a hell of a lot more important than your dalliances with banis affairs. Keep it in your pants and stop provoking the man. We need him, at least for now.”
“And when you don’t?”
He narrowed his hawkish eyes. “What does that mean?”
“What will happen to him when this is over?”
“Nothing, of course. We have no interest in him.”
“Of course, sir. I was just concerned...that he’s carrying out acts which could be considered treason, even if under direction.”
“The recordings we’re making are his protection. I don’t appreciate the accusation, sergeant.”
“I apologise, sir. What will I be doing now?”
“Waiting, of course. Coming out in public if we need you. We baited the hook, now let’s see if it’s swallowed. Keep out of sight.”
“Yes, sir.”
He spoke to the driver and ordered him to pull over. “I have a meeting here. You go back to the safe house and lie low. Don’t argue with Sri Shardul. That’s an order.”
“Sir.”
No, not done with the humiliations yet. For a spoon of flour I’d take a knife and cut this bloody transmitter out of my jaw. Proof that the captain’s worry about what I could do to this mission with my stupid obsessions was completely justified. Grow up, Javen.
~~~~~~~~
A suitable punishment for my stupidity was a week’s isolation to contemplate it, and that was what I had—no contact from anyone except two food deliveries. I wasn’t needed to lay more bait, not yet, though I burned with curiosity to know what Captain Largosen was giving Shardul to feed to Sanjeev. All I had for company was the media feeds, and they made depressing viewing. I saw Shardul, videoed as he left the courthouse after his client was committed for trial for murder. He offered no comment despite the outrageous taunting by the reporters, the watching cops taking no action over the pushing and shoving he endured.
The news analysis now made no pretense at balanced reporting. Dad was taking a lot of hits for not being hard-line enough, while his political opponents rampaged all over the debate, advocating little short of organised genocide as reprisal for the assault on ‘national pride’. The council of governors had approved a series of emergency measures, and night-time curfews were now in place for all Nihan and registered mixed-race individuals. Random ID checks, increased stop and searches, raids reported every night—as a cop, I knew how useless these things were in catching real criminals, and how much extra work and resentment they caused. Putting on my concerned citizen’s mask, I could see how they might offer a frightened Kelon population some hope that the unrest and violence would end. It wouldn’t work. Dad would know it wouldn’t work. But politicians had to be seen to be doing something, and so they did what they could. The damage might never be repaired, if this continued.
Dad didn’t call, but I couldn’t expect him to. I hoped Mum might, but she’d have her hands full with Dad and her duties as the governor’s partner. I could only wait, watch, and fret. I became very good at fretting.
The week stretched into two. It had taken too long. Sanjeev couldn’t have fallen for the bait. What had we done wrong? And would we get a second chance?
I was probably half a day from breaking Captain Largosen’s order not to contact him except under a life-threatening emergency—and somehow, I didn’t think he’d counted ‘about to go mad from stress and anxiety’ as ‘life-threatening’—when Shardul called. “We need to meet, and soon.”
I bit back the sarcastic “Hello, Shardul, how lovely to hear from you,” and said, “I need permission.”
“Already obtained. Captain Largosen ordered it, in fact. Ordered you, not me. I merely agreed.”
“What’s happened?”
“Things are moving. The captain will have you brought to the meeting this evening, at eleven.”
“Sanjeev took the bait?”
“Someone did, at least.”
“Great. How are you? I saw y
ou on the news reports the other night.”
“Things are difficult. Don’t concern yourself.”
“Of course I concern myself. You’re my friend.”
A shadow of pain passed over his face. “I don’t know how you can still say that. I’ll see you this evening.”
“Shar—”
But he’d closed the call. Seconds later, Captain Largosen’s name flashed up on my phone. “Sergeant, you’ll be collected tonight just before eleven. We’ll meet and then you’ll spend the night at Sri Shardul’s home. There’ll be an early departure—no need to pack, I’ve got that arranged.”
“Yes, sir. Won’t it seem suspicious if I’m seen leaving his place when I haven’t done so before?”
“It would, but I’ve taken care of it. Be ready.”
“Sir,” I said and he disconnected.
“Taken care of it”? How...but then I realised. Kawildin. They’d been using Kawildin to set up a cover, while I’d been stewing in this bloody apartment and going slowly mad. Why, for sanity’s sake? Why not use me? I had literally nothing better to do.
Shardul must have insisted. I fingered my jaw where every word I uttered was recorded and transmitted to Captain Largosen’s monitors. Maybe once the device was removed, Shardul would feel less inhibited. On the other hand, it might make no damn difference at all.
Sounded like the ‘undercover’ part of this mission was about to start. I wished I could talk to my family. Captain Largosen would keep Mum and Dad informed, I hope, but hearing their voices would be reassuring.
The three hours until my ride turned up dragged like three days, though I tried to kill time by rereading the briefing reports. I had the names of suspected players, the connections, and the possible methods of attack burned into my memory now. But there was nothing solid, nothing to say “this is the one who is behind it, that’s the one who will carry out the next attempt on a judge’s life”. There was too much information, too few specifics. I’d never hand something like this over to a client.
Finally my phone beeped and I went down to the basement where another anonymous auto waited to take me to the meeting with Captain Largosen and Shardul. Other than his somewhat irritating insistence on referring to me by my rank, Largosen’s way of doing things was decidedly non-military—and non-force either. But maybe that was the secret of his success—weaving through rigid protocols to get exactly where he wanted to be. Why he didn’t piss people off while he did it, was a mystery.
The building was new to me, and shrouded in darkness. Inside, the lighting was just as subdued, and the small office where Shardul and Captain Largosen waited for me had all its shades drawn.
“Sir.” I snapped off a salute, then nodded at Shardul, who nodded back, his expression blank, his emotions dark and tangled, jumping a little with shock and disgust as he registered my features. That didn’t last long, but he clearly didn’t want to be here, or doing this, whatever ‘this’ was.
“Take a seat, sergeant. Things are on the move, as undoubtedly Sri Shardul indicated. Sri Sanjeev has arranged a meeting with individuals I believe may be at the heart of this insurgency. Your instructions are to gain their trust, and offer to make yourself useful. The recordings of your conversations will be crucial evidence, and if we can identify these people, that will give us our chance to crack the ‘Justice for Nihan’ group.”
“Yes, sir. Will I be able to communicate with you?”
Shardul coughed. “Sanjeev specifically said we were to leave readers and phones behind. All weapons too, of course.”
“Yes, and without the signal booster you’ll be out of range to transmit the recording. We’ll track your position, sergeant, but essentially you’ll be on your own, so tread lightly.”
I frowned at him. “Sir, I’m not happy about putting a civilian in danger.”
“Neither am I,” he replied coolly, not even looking at Shardul, “but the meeting can’t happen without Sri Shardul. He’s agreed.”
“Without pressure?” I turned to him. “This could explode in our faces, and I won’t be able to protect you.”
“I know. But if you can face the risk, so can I.”
“Shardul, I’m a cop! You’re—”
“Sergeant, be quiet.” I faced my boss with a glare. His hawkish expression promised a world of pain if I did not shut up now. “Sri Shardul understands the situation as well as or better than you do. We don’t have time for this. This meeting is precisely what we’ve been working towards, and it’s a little late to scruple about his safety.”
“Sir,” I bit off, angry as fuck.
“Then read the briefing notes, and I’ll answer questions. Sri Shardul, can I offer you chai? Or something else?”
“No, thank you, captain. I think...I’d like to wait elsewhere while Javen reads, if you don’t mind. Is there another office?”
The captain pulled out a keycard. “Next door. Let me know if you need anything.”
Shardul nodded and left the room, while I sat slightly amazed at the almost warm exchange. Neither man particularly liked the other, but the manners had improved a lot.
Captain Largosen waited for the door to close, then growled. “What the hell are you doing, sergeant?”
“My job, sir. Protecting civilians, and in this case, a friend.”
“My job, sergeant. Your job is to follow orders. Are you going to do that, or shall I pull the plug on this whole mission?”
“Sir...if Shardul is hurt or even killed, the effect on the current tensions would be catastrophic. He’s not just any Nihan.”
“I’m painfully aware of that, Sergeant Ythen. Any more bloody obvious things you want to say?”
His eyes bored into me, and his contempt made my head throb. “No, sir.”
“Then read. I’m going to find chai.”
I restrained myself from cursing, aware I would be heard, but I swore silently anyway. If either of us slipped up at this meeting....
If I slipped up. Because Shardul was good. I’d seen him in action. But this kind of faking was foreign to me, a huge leap beyond the playacting I used on the job to win the trust of targets. This was a 25/8 act I had to carry out, and the very opposite of what I was in reality. Shardul only had to draw on his darker instincts and emotions to portray someone ready to collude in terrorism. I had to go against years of training, and my whole background.
But I could do it. At least I hoped I could.
Captain Largosen returned shortly after I’d read the sadly brief briefing file from cover to cover and committed the important facts to memory. He set cups of chai down for both of us. “Questions?”
“Tools, weapons, escape plan, sir.”
He bent down behind his desk and pulled up a small blue case, which he opened. “In the boots in that pack over there by the wall, you’ll find spaces in the heels. Use them to store these.” He set out a compact multitool and showed me the knife, scissors and wire saw it contained. “And this is a basic medical kit, with painkillers, waterproof dressing and skin seal. It’ll let you move on a broken leg or stop you bleeding to death, but that’s about it.”
Not a hell of a lot to work with. “Backup?”
“We’ll get as close to your location as we dare, but if a firefight breaks out, we won’t get there in time to help. Your best protection is not to let that happen. It is, of course, the most desirable outcome in any event. Talk, sergeant. Talk, get intel. That’s all you have to do. Sanjeev hasn’t indicated that these men will want anything more than information passed on a timely and regular basis. You will naturally agree to that.”
“And if they want proof of bona fides?”
“Sri Shardul and Gafur Kawildin have been passing information for the last two weeks. By this stage, your ability to act as a mole won’t be questioned.”
“In that case, do you know why they want to meet? Are they planning something big?”
“That would be my guess, but we really don’t know. That information could be critical.”
“So, a weekend visit—that’s all?”
“One night, that’s what Sanjeev said. I trust you can handle that without getting into an argument with Sri Shardul? Because we need him, sergeant.”
“I don’t have a problem with him, sir.” I let the stiffness of my tone tell him how annoyed his question made me. “We have matters to sort out, and the...implant makes that difficult.”
“Then you’ll have to wait until this is over. Until then, stop aggravating the man. That’s an order.”
“Sir.”
The chai in the cup in front of me probably dropped ten degrees from the frost in my voice, but the captain ignored it. “Fine. Tomorrow you’ll travel to Darwil and meet Sanjeev. He’ll take you both to the meeting point. We don’t have any information on where that is, or indeed how he plans to get you there, so be ready for anything.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Check your pack, then you’re done.”
While I did that, he fetched Shardul from the other office. Shardul was calmer than before, but still subdued. I looked up from the pack to his blank stare. “Okay?”
“Of course. Are we leaving?”
Captain Largosen dismissed us with a curt “Good luck”, and we headed down to collect Shardul’s auto. “Sorry you have to be imposed on,” I said lightly as we rode in the elevator.
“Kawildin’s been staying at my place every couple of nights,” Shardul said, not looking at me. “To be frank, I’d have preferred you.”
I stared at the back of his head, and decided asking more about it would constitute ‘aggravating’. “Me too,” I said. “Been a boring couple of weeks.”
“I imagine.”
And he said nothing more as he went to his auto, let us in, and drove us back to the Nihani neighbourhood. No one was around. The indigenous curfew was still in force. “How come you can come and go?” I asked as he parked behind his office.
“Permit. Kawildin doesn’t need one,” he added with a touch of bitterness.
“Don’t like him?”
“He’s Kelon.”
“Ah. So am I.”
He turned and gave me a brief, humourless smile. “Not as Kelon as he is, trust me.”
Different Senses Page 53
