Chapter 71

CHAPTER 71

THE VEIL LIFTS

Monami sat down on the couch, fiddling with her hands in her lap. She looked up at the psychiatrist when she sat down, hesitantly giving her a small smile when she offered a smile.

"Monami", Vamika started, leaning forward. "Main picture pehle hi clear kar deti hoon tumhaare liye so you don't have any shocks baad mein. You have about 9 to 10 months to learn to manage your triggers. Agar tum kar paati ho, you will be allowed to continue training. Generally, hum log- as mental health professionals- healing par koi time limit set nahi karna chahta hain because it stresses the patient out but..." Monami nodded. She was lucky to even have this much. "So, there might be times jab tumhe apne aap ko push karna padhe but jo tum nahi kar sakti, ya zyaada hi stressful hai, bolo. Agar nahi bataogi, toh it'll only hurt, not heal. Do you get me?"

"Y-Yes." Her voice came out slightly scratchy and she cleared her throat, glancing around.

"Yeh lo." Vamika kept a glass in front of water. She sipped the water gratefully. "Koi evaluation nahi hai ab. Jo bhi tum mujhe ab bataogi, I would not tell anyone unless mujhe lagta hai tum apne aap ke liye ya auron ke liye threat ho. Tumhe jis baare mein baat karni hai, even if it's not relevant to your trauma, then tum kar sakti ho. Personal relationships, professional relationships. Trainers par khundak nikaalni hai", she threw in. Monami smiled, chuckling slightly. "Jo baat karne ka mann hai, tum kar sakti ho. Kabhi bhi aa sakti ho even agar therapy scheduled nahi hai."

She nodded. "Thank you."

"Do you want to start ya thoda time chahiye?"

"We can... We can st-start."

Vamika smiled, picking up the notebook. "Is there anything you want to talk about, in particular?" She shook her head. "Let's start simple. Can you tell me ki... tumne aaj kya kara?"

Monami bit her lip. "Abhi S-Sir ka f-funeral tha aa-aaj. W-Wahan gayi. With... With K-Karan Sir and F-Faizi S-Sir. Phir... n-nahaayi, thodi d-der baaki c-cadets ke s-saath rahi and then ab... yahan."

"How did going to the funeral make you feel?"

'Aaj baby girl aapki Mumma ka antimsanskaar hai.'

Her nail dug into the side of the thumb of her other hand, and she looked up, studying the psychiatrist. Honesty. Therapy should have honesty. "It m-made me th-think of M-Mumma", she admitted softly. Vamika sat patiently, staring at her. "Main... Main un-unke f-funeral par nahi jaa p-paayi thi b-because... I was in c-captivity. Do... Do you kn-know e-everything?"

"All the official facts, yes. Mission Pari ke baare mein and tumhaare baare mein jitni bhi details official files mein hai, I know those." She nodded."Does that bother you?"

"No. It's... It's g-good. Mere p-pichhle therapists... I had to ex-explain certain th-things."

"Did that bother you?"

"It m-made me sp-speak of c-certain things that I w-wasn't r-ready to sp-speak."

Vamika leaned forward. "Monami", she said softly. "Yahan par, you don't have to speak anything that you aren't ready to speak. There is a difference between not wanting to talk about someone and not being ready for it. Do you understand that difference?"

"Yes. It's the d-difference b-between pushing y-yourself and h-hurting yourself."

The older woman smiled. "You are a smart girl, Monami. You'll be a good commando."

---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Monami looked at the city quietly. The world seemed quiet. Still. There was a strange lingering silence in the academy that leaked through the laughter of the agents, the noise of the mesh of talking voices and screamed in the quiet hallways of the academy. She looked across to the other pillar of the parapet, just a few feet away.

'Can you sit with me for a little while? Tumhaare saath rehkar mujhe achha lagta hai.'

He sat there. Quiet, smiling. Alive.

She closed her eyes, leaning her head back. She took a shaky breath, looking down at her shivering hands. She curled them into fists, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Itna bura tha therapy ka session?" A voice asked. She turned her head away. Karan. "Not in the mood to talk?" She shook her head quietly. "Okay. I won't intrude." Footsteps.

Monami turned her head. "You can st-stay", she said quietly. He turned around and she turned her head away before he could see her teary eyes. "If... If you w-want, that is."

More footsteps. He was walking closer. He hauled himself up, swinging his legs over to the other side. He didn't offer a word. Monami wasn't sure whether that was good. Perhaps a little talk could distract her. But she didn't dare to get the words past the lump in her throat.

A hum. Monami's eyebrows furrowed. It was low, and for a moment, she wanted to pass it off as the wind. But the hum grew stronger, a little uneven, deep and soothing. She turned her head, swallowing the lump in her throat. Karan was humming.

'Usually, S-Sid m-mujhse b-baat karta hai. Ya e-even b-better, he h-hums a s-song.'

Was he... humming for her? He turned his head to her, his humming growing a tad bit louder. Yes. He was humming for her. The lump in her throat grew and she attempted to swallow it, only for the feeling to return a mere second later.

He paused, his eyes not wavering from hers. He opened his mouth before closing it, staring at her quietly. She turned her head away, unable to get herself to stare back into his eyes. "You know", he said softly. "Fictional characters ke alaawa bhi kisi ke jaane par ro sakti ho tum."

The words seemed to be the stones that broke the gates of the dam. Monami closed her eyes, unable to stop her tears from dripping. She reached over, gently snaking her arms around his arm. She rested her head on his shoulder, sniffling. A sob escaped her mouth when he kept a hand over her head, patting gently.

"It's okay", he whispered softly, gently running a hand through her open hair soothingly. "Tumhe rona hai, toh ro sakti ho. It's just me, Monami."

She buried her face deeper into his shoulder, sniffling. He hummed softly, the sound delicate enough to almost get lost in the wind. But it brought comfort all the same, and she found herself become a crying mess before she could even consciously give herself permission.

Abhi was... dead. Gone. Nothing would ever come back again. Not his enthusiastic smile, his over the top actions, his bold declarations of his feelings. All those things had already happened for the last time.

'I wanted to ask if you could... spend some time with me.'

'It... It hurts so bad.'

'The more I spend time with you, the more I feel for you. I... I love you. I love you so much.'

Long after she had been drained of the energy to sob, silent tears now dripping down her cheeks occasionally, she still clang onto Karan's arm, her head resting on his shoulder and he still gently ran a hand in her hair. And not even a hum was needed for comfort.

---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Karan stared at the still of the blurry figure of the spy, taking a long sip of the coffee. He heaved a sigh, rubbing his face. What was he looking for, anyway? It was too blurry to catch any details.

"Hume Abhi ka replacement bhi dhundna hai", Faizi said quietly.

Karan looked away from the board, finding the older agent staring at his laptop screen. "Kisko soch raha hai?"

"Dekh rahe hain. Samajh nahi aa raha Sanket se puchhna chahiye ya nahi."

He hummed, looking back at the board. "Prem ji aur Parikshit ne woh list mail kari kya? Of the agents jo uss time par camera par dikhe."

There were a few clicks. "Haan, tumhe bhi kari hai."

Karan grabbed his phone, glancing down the list. "Sanket aur Mridul dono ka naam nahi hai." He sighed.

"7 logon ka hai. 20 mein se..." Faizi paused. He shook his head. "19 mein se 7 suspects less. 12 left."

"Better than 19, I guess", Karan conceded reluctantly. "Inn sab ko aaj shaam interrogate karte hain. Bahut ho gaya. Ab clues nahi mil rahe hain toh we need to confront. Subtlety ka time nahi bacha."

"Hume ek baar Abhi ka room dobara dekhna hai." Karan looked at him with confused eyes. "Hume feeling aa rahi hai kuchh milega."

Karan looked at him. "Main chaloon?"

Faizi clicked his tongue. "Bas feeling hai. Tang kar rahi hai isliye jaa rahe hain. Hume nahi lagta wahan kuchh milega. Tum kaam karo."

He nodded. He grabbed his phone, sending a text to Sanju and Param about the interrogation. He looked back at the board. The most suspicion should be interrogated first. They have to slam them with as much surprise and shock as they could. 4 interrogators. 12 suspects. Now, who to put where?

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and he covered the board, pulling it open. Siddharth?

"Hi", the cadet said. "Mujhe Monu se milna hai."

Karan blinked. "Yeh... uska kamra nahi hai, Siddharth. Are you... lost?"

"Nahi. Woh apne kamre mein nahi hai. I thought she might be with you. Woh aapke saath kaafi rehne lagi hai toh..."

He tilted his head. Was it? Did they spend that much time together? "Mujhe nahi pata woh kahan hai. Maine use drills ke baad nahi dekha hai."

He sighed. "Okay. Thank you."

The figure sprang in his mind. Perhaps... he could help clean it up. "Siddharth. Andar aao."

The younger male blinked in surprise but stepped in. Karan closed the door behind him, before uncovering the board. He stared at it with big eyes, taking it in. The agent grabbed the blurry photo of the spy, handing it over. "Yeh kaun hai?" The cadet asked.

"The spy."

He looked up, his cheerful gaze immediately darkening into an almost malicious one. He looked down. "It's very blurry."

"I know. Can you clean it up?"

"Maybe. I'll have to try." He stared at it. "Face dikhna thoda mushkil hi hoga. Par I'll try to clear it as much as I can."

---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Faizi opened the drawer, inspecting it. The room was pretty much clean now. Abhi's things were handed off to his family and Mridul had requested a change of room, which Karan had granted without much thought. Some of his stuff was lying around mindlessly, things that he was yet to shift.

The drawer was almost empty, random nuts and pieces of things lying abandoned. He sighed, closing it. He rubbed his face. He moved to the cupboard, pulling it open and running his gloved hands through the back of it. He tapped and poked, but it sounded filled. Nothing concerning in there. Just wood.

He shook his head. There was nothing there. Why was he even there?

He opened the drawer in the cupboard, patting the floor of the drawer. He paused. That... wasn't the texture of wood. He stared carefully, patting a little. A... transparent sheet? He gently picked it up, holding it against the light. There... were some dots. Random dots. What?

The door creaked. He turned around. No one. He glanced around, shaking his head when no movement greeted him. It was just the wind probably. He turned back to the sheet, watching it carefully. What were these dots supposed to be?

Faizi paused again when he heard the slightest of noises. Directly behind him. Something pressed into his spine before he could turn around.

A gun.

---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Karan paced in front of the board, glancing at Sid who was working quietly on his desk. He peeked over his shoulder, looking it over. "Abhi zyaada kuchh nahi hua", Siddharth said.

His eyes caught on the slight speck of red on the figure's waist. He glanced at the board. That wasn't there in the original picture. A little too blurry. "Yeh red..."

"Haan, thoda sa neeche ka clear hua hai. Colors separate hue. Although kuchh zyaada nahi pata chal raha."

"Thoda zoom karna."

A few clicks and Karan was staring at the figure's belt. An... identity card. Weren't identity cards coded with colors for departments? What was the code?

He grabbed his phone, dialing his brother's number. "Bhaiya", he said. "Red kis department ke identity card par hota hai?"

There was a pause. "Security", he answered after a moment. "Kyun?"

Karan cut the call, throwing the phone on his bed and moving to the board. Mridul and Raghav. He stared at Mridul's photo. Did he fit the bill with circumstantial evidence? What did they have on Abhi?

The beads? The chocolate? Sanket's work?

'Yeh bracelet... kisi aur ke saath par bhi dekha tha maine.'

'Mridul, mera best friend, woh bahut jealous tha ki main tumhaare liye itni saari chocolates laaya hoon. Toh maine use aadhi de di.'

'Abhi Sir ji hamesha Mridul Sir ji ko bahut kuchh bataate the.'

All evidence was circumstantial. And the circumstances fit Mridul just as well, if not more. Karan closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Was all this really pointing to Mridul or was he grasping at straws?

'Hume Abhi ka room ek baar dobara dekhna hai. Hume feeling aa rahi hai kuchh milega.'

His eyes snapped open. Faizi! He didn't happen to run into Mridul in that room, did he?

---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Faizi stared at the man quietly, sitting on the bed, staring at the barrel of the gun. His eyes travelled from the gun to the man's face.

Mridul.

So... he was the spy. He let out a exhale, studying his face. Sayed. His name was Sayed. He was a member of the EFR. He killed Laxman. He killed Abhi. This man wasn't his friend. He was a spy, a traitor, a terrorist. An enemy.

"Kis kisko pata hai?" Mridul- no, Sayed- asked.

He tilted his head. "Tumhaari gaddari ke baare mein?"

"Gaddar nahi hoon main", he growled. "Main ek mission par yahan aaya tha. Main apne beliefs par loyal hoon. Tum faujiyon ne humaare ghar, humaara-"

"Spare me your whining", Faizi snapped back. "Hume koi interest nahi hai yeh sab sunne ka, Mridul." His eyes narrowed. "Tum kya prefer karte ho? Mridul ya Sayed?"

He blinked. "You..." He shook his head. He took a step closer. "Kis kis ko pata hai?"

"All the people who should know."

"Karan Shergill?"

Faizi smiled. "Aisa kab hota hai ki jo cheezen hum jaante hain woh Karan nahi jaanta?" He leaned forward, his forehead touching the cool barrel of the gun. "Tum yahan se zinda bachkar bahar nahi jaa sakte ho, Sayed. You have made too many mistakes. You are stuck. Agar apni jaan pyaari hai, toh surrender kar do."

"Abhi toh bandook ki nok par-"

A bang. Faizi's head snapped up, as the door was thrown open.

Karan.

He looked back at Mridul, finding him startled by the sudden entry. A swift punch and the gun clanged noisily to the ground. Faizi reached for his gun, drawing it and cocking it in an instant. Sayed took a step back, looking between the two armed men.

"Mridul", Karan said quietly. He inspected him quietly. A bitter chuckle escaped him, shaking his head. "You killed... Abhi?" He took a step forward. "Uska murder karne ke baad uski family ko comfort karne ki besharami rakhte ho tum?"

"I didn't want to kill him. Use kitni baar samjhaaya tha ki chup chaap apna kaam kar, idhar udhar zyaada dekh mat. But he didn't listen to me. Pehle, it was easy to play him. Mujhe jo bhi kaam karna hota tha, main usse nikalwa leta tha. Every small thing. Woh gullible tha, trusting tha. Lately, usko jab shaq hona shuru hua, he became paranoid. Mujhse bhi cheezen chhupaane laga. I had to do it. I had to kill him. Mujhe genuinely bahut bura-"

"Spare it", Faizi growled. "Hume tumhaara meaningless regret nahi sunna hai. Hume yeh batao ki tum log bomb blasts kab aur kahan karwaoge?"

Mridul lifted his chin stubbornly. "Tumhe kabhi nahi pata chalega."

Karan sighed. "Sabko yeh hi kyun lagta hai? Tumse khud ki identity toh chhupayi gayi nahi. Poore bombs chhupa loge?"

"I'll rather die", he growled, lunging at Faizi.

The agent pulled the trigger instinctively, and after the deafening sound, there was a thump as his body hit the ground. Unmoving. Still.

Mridul was... dead? Just like that? It was... It was over?

Faizi stared at him, his gun smoking. Blood slowly seeped out from underneath him, spreading out around him.

He was dead. He killed him. He exhaled. He killed him.

---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Koel stared at the agents quietly, her gaze travelling to her boyfriend who sat silently in a corner, nursing a drink. He hadn't uttered a word.

Her gaze travelled to the picture of Mridul on the agents' board of information, staring at his smiling face. He was a terrorist? A spy? She stared at his soft eyes, his joyful smile. All this was a lie? All of it? He was Abhi's best friend. That was a lie?

She looked back at Faizi, who reached for the bottle, pouring himself some more alcohol. He rarely drank. He drank when he was stressed. Or sad. Or had a lot on his mind. Was he... friends with Mridul? She looked at Karan, hoping for some reassurance that he was fine- just angry or sad, she hoped he would tell her silently- but she found him nursing his own drink, staring at the ground, almost... lost.

The spy was caught. But the academy was solemn, instead of celebratory. So quiet. So disturbed. It was easier to swallow martyrdom- think of it as an honor- but after the greatest dishonor- of being exposed a traitor- do they grieve the friend he pretended he was or hate the enemy he really was?

"Faizi", Koel said softly, gently walking closer when the briefing had ended.

"Hume koi baat karni nahi hai", he said quietly. "Please yahan se chale jao."

"Par-"

"GO", he snarled, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. She took a step back in shock, staring at him. What the hell?

"Faizi", Karan warned quietly. "Aaram se." Faizi looked away, taking a deep breath. The younger agent grabbed her arm, gently dragging her out of the room. "Koel... please bura mat maanna. Mridul uska achha dost tha. And... he was the one who pulled the trigger. Usko... thoda time chahiye in sab cheezon ke saath deal karne ke liye."

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. He was grieving, in pain. She shouldn't hold it against him. She jerked her head down in a nod, turning around and walking away.