Lying For A Living

4

It had been years since Vansh had taken up the name Ishitwa Singh. All of his previous contacts had helped him gain this new personality. Born in Kolkata, Ishitwa Singh was a perfect law abiding citizen, who taught martial arts for a living. Vansh had lived incognito for years, and when the man in front of him took his real name, he was almost uneasy, as if he had uncovered a layer of existence Vansh had decided to bury years ago.

The men sat in silence for a few minutes. Vansh noticed the counter snipers and armed agents positioned all over the place. They were out of plain sight, but if you looked carefully enough, you could catch the glint of the sniper's scopes and the men weren't exactly hiding. He wouldn't exactly be surprised if the snipers had drawn beads on his head and were patiently waiting for him to do something suspicious, so that they could put a bullet through his head. Careful with the trigger, gentlemen he thought.

Balakrishnan broke the silence. "Why were you here last night, Vansh?"

"Reminiscing," he replied.

"Some people find it very suspicious that an ex agent who was declared rogue and assumed dead was near a place where the PMs of two countries were tried to be assassinated," The PM said.

"I had nothing to do with it," Vansh clarified.

The man looked at him sceptically for a second and then nodded. "I believe you, but some particularly important men don't."

"Even I wouldn't if I were in their place," Vansh admitted.

The man again looked at him, astonished. Then his features relaxed and said, " I guess your past has finally caught up with you."

Vansh sighed and said, "I've tried to outrun it, but I believe I had always known this day would come sooner or later."

The PM exhaled and said, "Who?" he asked.

"I have no idea, but I don't think that this is all they have planned," Vansh replied.

"Something more than the assassination of the German PM? Let's hope not," the man said.

"I believe you want me to be a part of this investigation?" Vansh asked.

"Yes, and I wanted to give you some insight on what just might be going on here," The PM said.

Vansh nodded, signalling the man to continue.

"We're having problems with our northern neighbours recently," the man began.

Nothing new here, we always have problems with them, Vansh thought, but kept quiet.

"They have been brainwashing innocent people for years, but now they have taken sudden interest in our youth, and that's a big problem," he paused, waiting for Vansh's comment.

"So you mean that the more people they 'recruit' the weaker we become as a nation," Vansh said.

"Precisely. You can post soldiers on borders, or spies in foreign conspirators, but how do you fight your own people?" The man looked troubled. Vansh wondered how many briefing papers he had to thoroughly read to understand this.

"We also have reasons to believe that there was a bigger motive behind the bombing of the German PM," he said.

Vansh nodded. "We are emerging as the sole leader in Southeast Asia. The more international problems and fights we get involved into, the lesser chances we have to get into the UNSC and other things," he deduced.

The PM looked taken aback by his nimble deductions. "Yes, very much and all of our hard-work goes down the trashcan. When the Germans bring this into the UN or God forbid, the International Court of Justice, we're screwed, because we have no groups or people to blame," he said, studying Vansh in a whole new light.

"What do I have to do?" Vansh asked.

"Get to the root of this, Vansh. You are the only man who can." He took a quick look at the wisps of white in Vansh's hair.

"I'm not what I was, obviously," Vansh said. "None of us are, Vansh. None of us are," the man said.

"I am astonished you trust me," Vansh said.

The man looked at him quizzically.

"After I killed him," Vansh said quietly.

Both the men knew who him was. A man named Samarth Balakrishnan. Brother of the man sitting beside Vansh, dead, directly because of him.

The PM sighed. "A part of me hates you for that, and yet the part of me I listen to believes that you were correct in doing what you did," he said. "He was selling the country's secrets. He was a traitor first and then my brother."

Vansh nodded and said, "I respect you for that sir. Where do I report?"

"Tomorrow, at RAW's headquarters. I will inform Vikram Markande that you are coming. You can meet your partner tomorrow."

Vansh got up and began to walk away as the man behind him said, "Why do you do it? The war, espionage, killing? I know not for money. But you could have opted for any other profession. You have more IQ than a genius. Country and patriotism, then?"

Vansh turned and looked the man in the eye. "It is both more complicated and yet simpler," he said.

The man raised an eyebrow.

Vansh said, "So that I can keep a high head on Judgement Day."

...................................................

Vansh Rathore walked out of his house in his best two piece Louis Philippe covering his waist holster which held his old pistol safely. He went to the garage where his Royal Enfield was parked. He had an income that barely supported his life, but he had decided to keep a vehicle. He had always wanted to become a bike racer as a child. He smiled at the strange recollection. He rode his bike down the streets of the city and came to a stop outside a massive structure constructed very recently at the outskirts of the city. The HQ of RAW was a set of three massive buildings placed in a triangle. US has the pentagon, we have the triangle, he thought.

Entering the building, Vansh was requested to submit his sidearm. The man who had taken it looked at the pistol curiously. "Which model is it, sir?" He enquired. Vansh smiled and asked, "How old are you, son?"

"Twenty-three, sir," the man answered, astonished at the question.

"Then you wouldn't know it. Because it is older than you are," Vansh replied with a smile and walked towards the escalator.