It took a little more than half
an hour drive to reach Honnavar but before I could head to the bar where the
missing agent had scheduled an appointment with Agent Ram the previous evening,
I had to drop off Ram’s all-in-one who was busy chewing his tobacco and
spitting it all the way till Honnavar, almost marking a red line to the side of
that road. If it was not for my cover and the mission critical to the level of
a life hanging in midst of the air, I would have had him either stop spitting
or get down from the car.
To gather information, in many cases, spies use advanced microphones and
cams that are smaller than a house fly and are hidden in places where it is
impossible to imagine and in some other cases spies just stick to their places
holding a high power binoculars doing lip reading. But there are few times when
all that a spy needs to do is just blend into the environment, act a bit, get
the information and skip away.
I had learnt from Ram that he
could gather no information from the bar where the meeting was scheduled
neither the police were involved to interrogate anyone from the bar in fear of blowing
up any cover. It was now time for a small spy act to gather any information I
could. I strongly believed that if the missing agent had scheduled his meet
with Agent Ram in that bar then he knew the bar and its safety completely and
if he felt the place safe it meant only one thing – he had visited the bar
multiple times and scouted it for its safety. If he had visited the place
multiple times then he must have left some scent to be picked up, it only
required the right nose to smell it.
As soon as we reached Ram’s shop,
I turned to his assistant and said, “I need your T-Shirt and a tobacco packet”
“What?” he yelled shocked by what
I said.
“Yes, I need your T-Shirt and a
tobacco packet and also your slippers” I repeated.
“But why?” he asked.
“Don’t ask. I have some work
locally. And don’t tell your boss that I took it. Here take this 500 note” I said
and winked at him.
Seeing the Rs. 500 note his mouth
opened so wide that not another word escaped through it. He quickly removed his
T-Shirt and gave it to me along with a tobacco packet from his pocket then gave
his slippers.
Before he got out of the car he
again said, “Sir I don’t know who you are and why you need my shirt and
slippers but you are mad” and grinned.
“I know that. I am so mad that I
will take back that note if you stay here for a minute more”
As soon as he walked into the
shop I drove towards the bar. Within a few meters away, I quickly changed into
his greasy and oily T-Shirt and his slippers. Though a percentage of the scent
of the deodorant I had sprayed was still there, the extra smelly T-Shirt
cleanly defeated it with no doubt. Putting the tobacco in my mouth, spoiling my
hairstyle to look like it was never neatly combed, I put on his slippers, got
down from the car and locked it. Taking a bit of mud, I applied it randomly on
my jeans. Within seconds, I quickly walked into the local bar that Agent Ram
had mentioned, chewing the tobacco as quickly and as wretchedly as I could.
Even though few things in the life of a spy depend on the type of the
mission, the place, the undercover lifestyle he has chosen, there are few
habits that he keeps to himself and finds most comfort in doing few things in
his own way. Ways of communication and choice of meeting places are one of
those.
The entrance of the bar was a
narrow passage with only the light from the door lightening it. Once inside, it
was as dark as it proved to be night anytime of the day. I saw two aged men
standing at the counter and talking to a person who seemed in charge of the
whole bar. None of them cared to look at me. I walked straight, passing the
counter, and into a hall that was separated from the passage by a curtain
helping the room to gain more darkness. The sudden darkness and a strong smell
of local alcohol gave me jolt with few hairs on the back of my neck standing
up. Slowly as I got habituated with the bar and its environment, I saw few zero
watt bulbs were glowing at the corners. Most of the tables were open except for
two that were kind of lonely separated from other tables by a wooden
compartment. I bet the agent used these tables and walked to them. Both of them
were empty and I sat on the corner one that gave view to the whole of the hall.
Even before I could take a neat look at the whole room, a boy, no more than 20,
walked to me and shouted, “What you want?”
“One kingfisher beer”
He left not even waiting for my
next order and within minutes I heard the sound of a bottle thump onto the table
as I was taking look at the hall. It was not so big hall and had two tables separated
into compartment, one out of which I was sitting. There were six more tables
neatly spread out in two rows of three tables each, one behind another. The
wooden pane that separated the two tables from rest was till my shoulder when I
sat, that left a clear view to the entire hall from corner side of the table. Almost
every part of wall below my ankle was either painted in tobacco splatter or
something else. All my worry of the deodorant smell giving up my cover as a
local worker went away with the strong alcohol smell that roared in the air.
I was still busy taking in the
environment and studying three more people, two together and one alone, busy
drinking local whiskey and another bartender when he asked if I wanted anything
else. I signaled him a wide NO and got busy in serving myself. Time was running
away and with it taking my chances of gathering the info. I yelled again for
the boy and he came in few minutes with the same frown on his face.
“You don’t give any free chips?”
I yelled, behaving a bit drunk, already.
“No”
“I don’t care. Bring me a chips
packet. I will pay today.”
He went away and came back in
minutes with a plate and a packet of chips.
“What’s the hurry man?” I asked
“I have other customers” he said
and almost had stepped away blabbering, “Why do people drink when they can’t
handle, that too at noon”
“Hey come here brother” I yelled
again.
“What?” he asked in a tone that
clearly showed his frustration and a hint of anger.
“What did you just say? Do you
know why I am drinking today?” I asked him taking few continuous gulps of beer.
“I don’t know. I have lots of
work to do” he quickly stepped back, sensing something wrong.
It’s always tough to act and it’s
always toughest to act a drunkard. You act too much drunk and you scare people
away; you show you are not too drunk and people don’t have interest in you. The
best thing to do is start a friendly conversation on a local topic that gets
people interested in what you talk or exchange a few heated words that can
start off a battle of words and might even involve some hits and punches but
will get people involved.
“Hey come here. Who the hell did
you call drunk?” I yelled and thumped the bottle loudly on the table.
While I heard a few murmurs I did
not care for anything. Spilling a little beer on the T-Shirt, I stood up and
again started yelling for the boy. He came out of the kitchen door and walked
towards me.
“What the hell is your problem
man? This is the same attitude you showed to my brother? And when he asked you
to behave properly you hit him with beer bottle?”
“I dint hit anyone. You are drunk,
sir” he said.
“Who the hell do you think you
are? You call me drunkard?” I raised my voice and stepped out of the table
almost to reach his collar but stumbled a bit at the edge and took support of
the wooden pane.
“You are drunk. I will call the
manager.” The volume of his voice had come down and now he was on the edge of
deciding either to get involved in a fight or to settle everything calmly.
“Haha. Call anyone. I am calling
the police. My brother is in hospital. I will put you in jail. Who the hell do
you think you are?” I yelled, taking a few hiccups.
That was the final brick in the
wall. Hearing the word police his eyes turned big and he turned silent. I saw the
second bartender walk out of the kitchen door and before he could turn the things
worse I yelled at the top of my voice, “Manager. Manager. I want the manager. I
will call police now”
No matter what place it is and no
matter who and where we are dealing with, managers or owners always try to keep
police out of their business places, especially when customers are present and
especially when a sight of few policemen can obstruct the business. The first
thing that they try to do is calm down the situation, and then try to calculate
the situation and the benefit of supporting the sides. If it is not serious
then they scold their own side and wrap up the scene. If it serious then they
take the matters in their hands and turn everything upside down.
The manager walked in quickly and
by now the other customers had gathered beside my table. The other bartender
was ready to pick up a fight and I was trying my best to steal the attention of
manager on my side before something worse happens and I turned up with few
punches on my face.
“This boy from your bar beat up
my brother yesterday and now my brother is in hospital. He hit him on his head
with a beer bottle” I said to the manager, trying to walk towards him.
“No sir. It cannot happen. This is
the best boy we have in our bar and moreover there was no fight in our bar
yesterday” the manager said, calmly.
“No. You don’t know sir. This
boy, yes this same boy who was yelling at me few minutes back hit my brother
with a bottle on his head. He is bleeding in hospital. If you don’t take action
now I will call police”
“No sir. You are drunk and not
able to identify the right person I guess. There must be some misunderstanding
I believe. Please sir, do not shout and calm down” the manager said to me as
already the boy was pleading not guilty to the manager.
When I realized I could no longer
drag the scene peacefully, I took the shot. Taking out the photo of the missing
agent from my wallet given by Ram and showing it to the boy I asked, “Ok then
tell me who hit my brother? You serve him beer daily right?”
“Do you know this guy?” Manager
asked the boy.
“Yes this person comes daily and
sits in this same table” the boy was saying when I interrupted, “See I told you
sir. Someone hit my brother. This boy hit my brother. I will call police and
get you arrested.”
“I did not hit anyone. He just
comes here and drinks a beer daily and sits quietly. Only sometimes he comes
with someone.”
“Oh so that rascal hit my
brother. Thank you thank you” I said trying to hold the hand of the boy but
slipped again and he too moved back.
“No. He was alone yesterday. But
from last few days another man was coming and sitting in that table” he said
pointing at a table exactly opposite to this one, but in the far end of the
hall, and continued, “yesterday I saw your brother go up to that table and talk
to him and then he scolded him something and walked away. I remember because he
had still not completed his drink”
“Oh so that rascal hit my brother.
I won’t leave that bugger. He won’t see tomorrow’s sunrise. Who the hell was
he?” I yelled carelessly.
“I do not know but he was coming
since few days and sitting in the same table. He was wearing the same green
T-Shirt all days. He is long and has thick beard. I do not know anything else”
the boy blabbered out quickly.
“Sir, now that you know our boy
has nothing to do with this, please doesn’t create a scene here” manager added.
“Yes yes. Sorry sorry” I said
turning at both of them as the customers walked back to their tables.
Quickly exchanging few more
apologies and trying to hug the boy, I paid my bill with some tip and yelling loudly that I would take revenge on the person walked out of the bar.
Finally there some information
about the missing agent but yet it was nowhere near the unraveling the mystery
and yet it was just middle of the long long day…
To be Contd…
Vishal…
Very very good. Explanation is superb .
ReplyDeleteThanks! :-)
Delete