by Mainak Dhar
'The man was an Afghan whose name I don't know, but he told us there was a big mission to be launched deep in India, to strike at the heart of the Indian government. I volunteered, hoping to get some real action. We were infiltrated into India and sent to Delhi, where we were asked to lay low for the next few weeks till we were contacted. I was beginning to get bored when a meeting was called. There were the five of us, and three men I didn't know, who seemed to be Afghans or Pashtuns. Their leader was a scary son of a bitch, and told us that the five of us would have to cover them in the mission, and neutralize anyone who got in their way.'
'We began drills, meeting in a new location each time, and we were looking forward to the action, though we had no idea what the mission was. I thought it was to attack some Army or government building, since the Afghans kept talking among themselves about entry routes and neutralizing guards.'
Arnab had so far said nothing but now interrupted.
'Look Arif, I don't know what you want from me, but give me one reason why I shouldn't just bust you now and haul you to the police as a terrorist.'
Arif looked at Arnab and smiled, 'Because I can help prevent many people from being killed.'
'And why would you do that? Or does a cold blooded killer suddenly develop a conscience?'
Arif didn't take the bait, and stayed calm as he replied.
'My fight was with the Indian police and government, and all I wanted to do was to avenge my father. I've never killed a civilian and had no intent of doing so. A few days ago, I overheard the Afghans talking about the mission. I didn't catch everything, but I did hear one of them mention blast damage, and the other say something about likely civilian casualties being in the thousands. That's when I knew this mission was more than just an attack on a government or Army installation and I bolted.'
Arnab asked him why he hadn't gone to the Police.
'Are you crazy? They would kill me and with just the information I have, they wouldn't be able to do much about the attack. Plus, as I said, I have no love for the Police, but I thought I could help prevent a massacre of innocents.'
Arnab looked at Khan to see if he had any ideas, but the old man shrugged his shoulders.
'Look Arif, I can't do much with what you have. I need more information. Where are they planning to attack, when, what is the nature of the plan? Without that, I can't do much either. Why don't you join your friends again and find out more?'
Arif shook his head.
'It's too late for that. I was scared and ran. Now I'm sure they suspect that either I've chickened out, or worse, that I've changed sides. Those Afghans are cold-blooded killers. They won't bother asking where I was, they'll probably just kill me to be sure'
'Then what's the point of calling us? What do you expect me to do?' Arnab asked in exasperation.
'I've read the papers. I know you are special. I know that you could stop them. I can get more information but don't know how to pay for it.'
'Pay?' Arnab didn't know what he meant.
'I asked around, checking with old mates still in Kashmir, and one of them has contacts in Pakistan who may know more. But in our line, as in anything else nowadays, money talks. His contacts want ten million Rupees to get the information. For all I know, my mate is taking his cut, but that's what he told me.'
'You stupid bugger, where do you think we can get that much money from?' Khan exploded.
As Khan and Arnab left, Arnab was deep in thought. On the way back home, Khan sensed his contemplative mood.
'Arnab, are you thinking of how the hell we could arrange that ridiculous sum of money?'
Arnab just nodded. In fact, he was thinking about the quandary in which he now found himself. On the one hand, he could just forget this meeting had ever happened, and get on with his life. Take up the bank job, start a settled life, get married someday, have a family-all the things his mind told him he should focus on. Or he could embark on this crazy crusade, which may be nothing more than a wild goose chase, and re-enter the world he had vowed never to enter again.
As for the money, it was the least of his concerns. He knew where he could get that kind of money. The question was, whether he was willing to pay the price needed to get it?
TEN
When they got back to Arnab's apartment, it was past midnight, and Arnab had said no more than a couple of sentences during the one and a half hour journey. Khan could sense just how agitated Arnab was, and did not try and bring up the evening's meeting till Arnab was ready. At one level, Arnab was furious with Khan for having dragged him back to a side of his life that he wanted to leave for good. At another level, he realized that it was silly to blame Khan. The old man had just done what anyone else in his position would have considered the right thing to do. It was not Khan's fault, but that did not make the dilemma he faced any easier to deal with.
Khan stood by his door, waiting in silence for Arnab to say something. After a few minutes, Arnab sighed and looked straight at Khan.
'Khan chacha, I can't blame you for asking me to accompany you. But I need some time to decide what I do. I hope you understand.'
To his surprise, Khan did not try and persuade him. Instead, he clasped Arnab on both shoulders and said,
'Arnab, take your time. I have no right to make any demand of you, but all I will say is that when all is said and done, sometimes thinking too much about an issue does not lead to any solution. Just clear your mind and go with what feels right. I will respect and understand whatever you choose to do.'
The next morning, for once, Arnab was glad to be at work. Just being around the comforting familiarity of the bookshelves, listening to Jayantada crib about how the Principal was being slow in releasing the promised funds, and wrapping up his project before he left, almost made him forget that there was another world out there. A world of corrupt policemen, selfish politicians, ruthless criminals and a mysterious terrorist called Arif. A world that he was trying to forget and consign forever to the dustbin of forgotten memories. A world which the meeting with Arif threatened to pull him back into.
As the day unfolded, Arnab realized that there was nobody else who could help him make his choice. As he made his way home, he realized that he had no need to feel guilty about just getting on with his life. He had done more than he had ever imagined, and more than most people would ever bother doing, in terms of sticking his neck out to help others. And what had he got in return? A tattered reputation, being ambushed and left for dead by those who were supposed to be upholding the law, and being courted to use his services to rig elections. That was a world he could do without. As for Arif, perhaps there was a terror attack being planned. Perhaps it would indeed happen soon. But so what? There was no real concrete information to act upon, and it wasn't as if another terror attack would be the end of the world, was it? Hardly a day went by nowadays without a bomb blast or attack somewhere and if the government and police were helpless to prevent them, one man's chasing a mirage of another supposed attack wouldn't make much of a difference, would it?
By the time he returned home, Arnab had more or less made up his mind to call Khan and tell him that he wanted nothing more to do with this affair. He had respected Khan's request to go and meet Arif, and hadn't Khan himself told him that he could back out if he wanted? Arnab was both surprised and pleased to see Khan waiting for him outside his apartment.
'Khan chacha, I was just thinking of calling you. How long have you been waiting? Why didn't you just call me?'
Khan had a sombre expression on his face.
'Arnab, its something I felt we should talk in person. I wanted to ask if you would come with me.'
Arnab had no idea what Khan was talking about and asked what he meant.
'To meet Arif.'
Khan said it casually, but those three words threw all of Arnab's plans into a tizzy.
'Khan chacha, I was planning to tell you that I didn't want to pursue this any more.'
Khan smiled, but his eyes were sad, as he answer
ed.
'Arnab, I thought that was a possibility. That's why I came to check if you would accompany me. I am going to meet him now. He called and said he wants to meet urgently.'
Arnab was taken totally aback by Khan's plan.
'Khan chacha, why are you getting involved in this? What can you possibly do? This could get very dangerous. Please don't…'
Khan cut off Arnab's objections.
'Arnab, I can't sit back when I know I could help stop innocent people from getting killed. I am an ordinary man, and can't do much by myself, but if I find out enough information, I could pass it on to the police.'
With those words, Khan left Arnab standing speechless at his apartment door. Arnab opened the door and walked in; trying to convince himself that he had done the right thing. He changed his clothes and turned the television on, trying to distract himself. He sat listlessly for more than an hour, but soon realized that he could not do this. No matter what problems he had had to face, no matter how betrayed he had felt, nothing could justify his allowing Khan to walk into harm's way. He had no idea what Arif wanted, but he knew the old man could be totally bull-headed and would not back down. That left Arnab with only one possible course of action.
Khan was about to enter Arif's room when he felt a gust of wind blow past him. When he turned around, he staggered back in surprise as he saw Arnab, wearing his sweatshirt, with the hood covering his face. Khan smiled broadly.
'Next time, I'll ask you to carry me instead of taking the bus. So you decided finally to come here to meet Arif?'
'No Khan chacha, I came here for you. Let's see what Arif has to say.'
They found Arif sitting with a suitcase and a backpack at his feet.
'Going anywhere, Arif?'
By way of reply to Arnab's question, Arif got up and walked towards them. Arnab was shocked to see how much the man had changed in the few days since he had last seen him. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, and he looked visibly weak, as if he had not eaten properly for some time.
'They know that I escaped, and will come for me. I'm getting out so that I can at least ensure that Rashid and his family don't get caught in the middle.'
'Where will you go?'
Arif shrugged.
'I don't know, but what's important is that I don't have much time. I got in touch with my friend, and he told me that if we want any useful information, I need to get the money within seven days. After that, the operation may go into execution phase, and it may be too late to do anything. If you want, please contact me at this number.'
He handed the slip of paper to Arnab, who had made up his mind not to get involved, and was flinching at the repeated demand for money.
'Look Arif, there's a bloody bomb blast every other day. What's so bloody special about this that anyone would want to pay ten million to know more?'
Arif came even closer, and seeing the haunted expression in his eyes made Arnab unconsciously take a step back. Arif was terrified of something, and looked like a man on the verge of losing his sanity.
'I would have thought the same, but I did learn something about this operation.'
'It better be something good to have dragged us here. Look, I don't honestly care if your Afghan friends kill you, but I do hope you can do some good to redeem yourself.' Khan spoke for the first time since he had entered the room.
'I learned the code name of this operation.'
Both Arnab and Khan rolled their eyes, figuring they were in for some useless information as Arif continued.
'It's called Operation 5HT.'
Khan snapped at Arif, 'That's what you have for us? Do we care if it's called Operation Batman or Operation Underwear? How the hell does that help us?'
Arif continued in an even tone.
'It stands for Five Hundred Thousand.'
Both Arnab and Khan looked at him blankly as Arif continued, this time his voice trembling a little.
'That stands for the number of casualties they aim to cause in the attack.'
***
That night, Arnab tossed and turned in his bed before falling into an uneasy slumber. He kept trying to convince himself that he still could walk away, that he could just get on with his life as he had planned. After all, there was no reason to take what Arif had said at face value, was there? What if what he was mistaken? What if the code name for the operation was just bluff and bluster, and in reality turned out to be yet another ordinary bomb attack? As he lay half asleep on his bed, he stopped himself with a thought.
Since when had be become so self-centred and callous that he could consider an attack that would kill even one innocent person 'ordinary' and not worth stopping?
When he did finally fall asleep, he found himself in a strange dream. He was in a car, being driven somewhere, and for some reason he was desperately trying to call Mishti on his cellphone. No matter how many times he tried, he just couldn't get through. When he did finally get through, he was telling her that he would get there as soon as he could, that she shouldn't worry, but she sounded terrified. She was in some sort of danger, though he couldn't later remember what it was. All he did remember was that he was trying his best to get to her, but unable to do much except scream out his impotent rage as he realized that he would never be able to get to her in time. He woke up covered in sweat, his heart beating so fast it felt like it would burst. When he checked the clock, he saw that it was just three in the morning, but no matter how many times he tried to go back to sleep, he found he could not. As he lay there, he began to realize what his dream was trying to tell him. It had told him just what a frightening and overwhelming thought it was to have even one person he knew and cared about in danger. If he were in a position to do something about an attack that could threaten hundreds or even thousands of innocent people, would he ever be able to live with his conscience knowing he could have done something to stop it but had chosen to walk away? Could he deal with endless nights of dreams of the sort he had just endured?
When Arnab got up in the morning and looked at himself in the mirror, he saw no hero, just a scared young man who was being forced into a course of action that he would rather have avoided. He closed his eyes, and was surprised to find them filling with tears. As he stilled his mind, he thought back to the incident on the bus where it had all begun. He didn't really have a choice to make now. He had made his choice that day so many months ago-the choice to not look away any more. The choice to finally worry about something other than his self-preservation and self-interest. He had made that choice, and the events it had unleashed had set in motion a course of action that perhaps he had no choice but to now follow and see through to its logical conclusion. When he opened his eyes and looked up at his reflection, tears rolled down his cheeks, but his eyes shone with a newfound resolve. He didn't care any more whether it was his destiny or indeed a curse. It was something he had to do. Once he was done, he would think about getting on with the bank job and the life he had intended to pursue.
That morning, Jayantada kept coming over to check on the progress of the computerization project, but Arnab had little progress to report for the day. He lied, blaming it on the slow computer, which seemed to satisfy Jayantada, who walked away grumbling about how technology never worked and how in his day he had managed a library of ten thousand titles with a handwritten catalogue. Arnab felt a bit guilty about the lie, but he was formulating a plan in his mind, trying to see how he could take the next step in trying to stop the attack Arif had mentioned.
By evening, he realized that there was no other way out and he called Pravin Aggarwal, using the SIM card that he had reserved for his nocturnal operations. Aggarwal picked up on the third ring, and to Arnab's surprise, seemed to have either remembered him or saved his number.
'Well, it's our own superhero, isn't it? So tell me, how can I help?'
Arnab had been brought up in a culture where asking for something for oneself was not considered good form, so he stammered out, 'Sir, I wanted to know
if you….you still wanted to strike a deal?'
Aggarwal's deep laughter bellowed over the line.
'I told you my friend that everyone has a price. I'm glad you came to the same conclusion, but I'm afraid it may be too late.'
'What do you mean?'
'What I mean, my friend is that your value lay in your spotless reputation. Now that you're perceived by the common man as yet another person out to make a quick buck, your image has, how shall I put it, been on a bit of a decline. If you want to deal with me, you need to get your reputation cleaned up.'
Aggarwal's response was not one that surprised Arnab, but now he realized he had no choice other than to make a deal with the very people who had set out to destroy him and his name. It was infuriating, but he realized even his powers had their limits. He could run faster and hit harder than any man alive, and he could see in the dark, but he was powerless before the machinations of Balwant Singh and his ilk. He debated with himself for a while, but came to the conclusion that there really was no other way out. Figuring that he did not have the time to waste on going through P.C Sharma and the Minister's other minions, he sent an SMS to Sharma asking for an urgent meeting with Balwant Singh himself, saying that he had something that could be of use to the Minister in the coming elections. He had read in the papers about how Balwant's party was suffering reverse after reverse in the build-up to the elections that were just a few days away, and gambled that this was an offer that Balwant would find too tempting to pass on.
When he set out at the appointed time later that night, he realized that he was taking a big risk. There was a fair chance that Balwant would still be angry with him, and could bring Upadhyay and his men to ambush him and finish what they had failed to accomplish the last time he had encountered them. Not willing to trust Balwant, he reached the meeting point, near the small pond in front of the Old Fort, about thirty minutes early, not as the superhero who wanted to strike a deal with Balwant, but as Arnab Bannerjee, seemingly out for a late night walk, carrying a novel. He sat down on a bench, pretending to read under the streetlights, scanning the area for any sign of activity. After a few minutes, he saw Balwant and Sharma appear, but there was no sign of any other person. He waited a few more minutes to make sure, and then satisfied that Balwant had laid no ambush, walked behind some bushes, emerging a split second later wearing his hooded sweatshirt and gloves. He approached the two men from behind, and when he called out to them, both of them turned to face him.
