Switching back to current Rajasthan …
In Delhi – The NSA called Mr Mahal who was the chief of Internal Security and IB. They discussed the various incidences in detail and were half convinced that these were connected. They were yet unsure that there was a connection between these – they were spread all across India and it had to be a huge and organised effort to carry them out.
Who could run such an organized killing all over India? Who could be behind such an organized operation pan India? The thought was insane at the same time it was alarming. If somebody had managed to form a group that could operate all over the nation and yet remain unknown was a danger signal. They could do anything, create any sort of trouble and take control of the nation.
This couldn’t be done without collecting internal individuals with vested interests like money and power. Further, the people who were killed were against the central ruling party. Can central ruling party have a hand in these of crimes? Obviously, it suited them as their adversaries were being eliminated one by one…
The other problem was this group of people had killed members who were lesser known politicians, influencers and hooligans who belonged to various opposition parties. Were these separate incidences or was someone pulling the strings to make these happen??
Or could this be an act of an opposition political party who wanted to destabilize the current government to grab power at the centre… Or could it be that some external power like Pakistan be involved in destabilizing the country… The incidences were happening in India and so the concern…
Mr Mahal already had anticipated this investigation and had started placing his agents belonging to IS and IB in various parties and other social platforms. He made sure that they were well covered up. He also had some of his commandos in IB posted in various fields he thought were sensitive and could be dangerous in this mission – after all – people were being killed and in a professional manner – no clues left behind…
He knew of few reporters who were highly patriotic and will be difficult to sell out and asked them to keep a watch on anything that may be suspicious or outright treachery. Priya Singhal was one of those journalists who he could trust. She also had a wide network of informers at her disposal and had been of help when needed. She had worked for IB in such cases where sensitivity was a prime concern. Even she didn’t have any idea that this was the case IB was thinking to be a nationwide threat… He was yet to speak to her.
Then this happened – the traitor of a leader and a mafia don was murdered by unknown masked group who attacked and killed when he was being brought to Delhi for trial. The attack seemed extremely army professional and that had raised further alarm bells in the IB and NSA… He was a leader in one of the opposition parties.
Priya and Chaitanya started to move back to Delhi and their studio. It was a long journey and it was almost evening. They had a choice of stopping at a hotel in Jaipur and proceeding to Delhi next day. They took the option to stop over and rest before a hard day at the studio. They booked into a hotel and had their dinner. They said bye for the night and disappeared into their respective rooms. Next day, they proceeded to Delhi. They were travelling back extremely bored because that mafia don was dead and there was no other news than speculation…
“Hey stop the car.” she called out to the driver.
“Now – what’s the matter?” Chaitanya asked her stifling a yawn.
“Nothing I want to stretch my legs – they are cramped.”
“Okay – let’s get out of the car.”
They got out of the car and looked at the stretch of desert. Nothing except sand and few scattered bushes could be seen…
“Let’s explore this part of desert a bit…” she said taking a water bottle from the car, “that’ll enable some walk and stretch the legs further.”
“In this heat?”
“Ya – why not – let’s go…”
He shrugged and followed her keeping his camera in the car. They walked straight into the desert about a mile when she gave a mischievous smile. He didn’t see that smile and kept walking beside her – deep in thought as to who could have carried out such a daring assassination of the leader cum mafia don. Could it be some rival group?
“Let me do some modelling.” she said suddenly, “click some great pictures of me – I want to upload them on Instagram…”
“Are you crazy? In this heat you want to do some modelling? Can’t you find some beautiful spot and get your modelling done there?” the chain of his thoughts was broken.
“Come on – you are a photographer and look at me – am I not pretty and hot?”
“I don’t know about you but the Sun is pretty hot.”
“Don’t be a spoil sport – click some pictures of me as if I am reporting from this desert. They would make great posts on Instagram…”
“Why are you girls so obsessed with Instagram?”
“Click some pictures – I will also mention that you as a cameraman clicked these pictures and give you the credit and followers…”
“I’m not on any of social media platforms. I hate them. All false friends – nobody true you can rely on…”
“But I love to be socially active – just don’t think – click them.”
He shrugged again and started to click her photos on his mobile. He was irritated as she wanted to look at every picture he clicked and decide whether to keep it or delete it.
“From a cameraman’s perspective – we will have to go in a bit deeper into the desert and the background of that mound there will give you the perfect clicks you deserve and would like to be framed in…”
“Okay let’s go in a bit further as you suggest.” and they walked in still deeper till they were about half a furlong from the mound he had pointed. He asked her to stand in front of the mound and clicked some pictures which she approved. He was about to the click next one when he could see a faint smouldering smoke behind her.
“Hey what’s that smoke? It seems to be coming from behind you. Who could be burning something in this burning heat?”
“Come on – let’s find out…” she said, the investigative journalist in her coming to the fore.
They quickly covered the ground till the mound and started to climb it even as the smoke started to increase in its density as if something was set on fire. They climbed on the mound and to their horror saw 2 vans on fire. The third van started to drive away with brooms attached near its tyres so as to wipe out any tyre marks. The brooms were tied with a cloth which not only held the brooms but also covered the number plate of the van.
They quickly moved towards them to see if anyone was in those vans to be saved. There was nobody in the vans on fire…
“Priya! These are those vans which were used by the attackers yesterday. They are trying to erase their identity by putting these vans on fire.” and he started to click the pictures of the burning vans.
“Why are you clicking the so many pictures of these vans – one is enough for us to report it on TV…”
“You want to be an investigative journalist – right? This is your chance. We have to get clues to this event and push the investigation harder to know who was behind the killing – will be a great name for you – Priya Singhal the best investigative journalist … what say …”
She dreamed of the accolades for a moment, “You are right … let’s begin the investigation of the matter – on our own. I am with you.”
“Good girl. Now take that branch and break the window glass open – let’s see if we can manage to get the view inside the burning van.”
They tried in vain to take some pictures of the interiors but were unable as the fire raged still further. He realised that the van’s fuel tanks were close to the fire – he grabbed her hand and started to run. They had run far enough when the vans blasted throwing them off balance and they hit the sandy ground hard. They got up and brushed themselves off and watched the remnants of those vans burn and char.
They walked back to their car and called the police as good citizens that they had heard a blast in the desert. Then the car cruised on toward Delhi without any further incident…
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