RI#2: DoubleAgent-Part3/Page9 Dec5th'2013 - Page 4

OMG!!! I am so effing sorry Chhoti! I am so stupid! I though I already replied, but I hadn't:( SORRY! Kaan pakkad ke!

Thank you so much <3 For being the first to comment <3 I love you!! And thanks for the compliments <3 :D Mwahhh <3

Sorryy!

12:11 - My eyes fluttered open to encounter blurry images. My mother was hovering over me; her hand was holding my head. She was looking away, shouting at someone.

18:25 - This place was calm. I felt sleepy.

21:59 - Someone was sitting besides my bed. I moved my eyes to locate the broad figure, bent over my bedroom. His face was covered with palms, and his shoulders were shaking ever so lightly. I am dreaming. Mr. Saxena doesn't cry.

23:06 - A hand was clasping mine. Soft whispers of my mother filled my senses. "I am sorry Nia. I love you. I am sorry." Why was she sorry? It was hard to think. I can't think. My head hurts. I needed sleep. I wanted sleep. So I invited sleep.

3:04 - My senses were awake way before my body. My body felt tired, and worn out. My throat felt dry and raspy. My eyes were heavy, and I had a feeling unconscious tears and wetness had dried up on it's lids. My lips felt dry and sticky. I don't even want to think about my face and hair right now.
But worst of all was my head. Soon after I woke up, the numbness was gone and I felt heavy thumping somewhere inside my forehead. I raised my hand to press against it.

"Hey." My mother said, walking inside the room. Though she acted like it was normal for me to wake up in the middle of night after such unmitigated incident.

"It wasn't a test, was it?" I whispered, because I know my voice would be raspy, and worse than a croaking frog. Mother was silent for a moment, and looking at me, as if she can see my deepest, darkest secrets.

"No." She said then, sitting on the chair beside me.

"How is Kiya?"

"She is fine. Better than you have been. She took a hit on her rib bone, but thankfully it wasn't fractured."

"Who were they?" I asked. Mother shook her head with a sigh.

"We don't know yet, but we are working on it. You shouldn't stress about it right now. You should eat in a while now."

"How long have I been out?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to know the answer. The only answer I wished to know right now was that I doubt she can answer. My mother was one of the best spies I have ever met in 17 years. She was strong, quick, intellectual and impervious to emotions. Maybe that's why, she didn't try too hard to hide her love for me. Out there, they say a person's eyes speak what even their faces don't...but they haven't met Jiya Rai.

"Three days." She said, feeling out a glass of water on the side table. I tried to hide my shock as much as I can and sit up against the bed head, taking the glass from her hand like we had been talking about the weather.

And then for the first time, I noticed my surrounding. Notice things. The room was small, but warm. There were humming air filters on the ceiling, suggesting that the temperature outside was colder. It had to be, it is winter. Wooden furniture was looked old, but not worn out. The walls were clean and color was perfect, but it wasn't shining. There were no photographs, no frames nor any paintings on the walls, but right in front of the bed was a round grandfather clock, showing 3:11. There was a bookcase that held books of Historical accounts; old ignored stories and human mind psychology. There were few other that had no titles. The wood floor was clean and everything in the room was dusted. Over all, the place wasn't in constant use, but it was cleaned regularly.

"Is this place safe?" I asked, returning the glass.

"It better be," She said, "Mr. Saxena owns it."

I froze. (Because no matter how good of a spy you are, you can't stop the teenager--and the girl--in me die.)

Mr. Saxena own this house.

I am in Mr. Saxena's house.

"He owns it?" I wondered out loud. Then after a moment, I asked hesitantly. "Where is he?"

"He is out for a business." She said, smiling at me, like mother do. "He will be back."

I wanted to believe her, but there was an instinct that told me my mother was being a spy, not a mother. But I didn't ask her anything, because I don't ask question.

I find answers.

We had four more weeks before school reopens but I returned back to Royal because I needed to feel safe. And there is no place safer than Royal Institute, where I was taught to keep my country safe. I spent most of my time in bed, recovering from my fractured ribs and head that had gone to a very dangerous concussion. I even twisted ankle and received a hairline fracture on my arm.

By the end of the third week, most of my injuries excluding the ribs were healing. I was allowed to get out of my bed and walk around the school.

What could have made me happier?

On the last Tuesday before the school resumed, I was called on to the RAW office for interrogation.

"Am I supposed to tell them everything?" I asked unsure. My mother walked besides me towards the women's t-shirts section. She picked out a t-shirt that barely anybody would glance at and walked to the lady who was helping out a customer.

"Hi! I suppose you want a dressing room!" The lady grinned at us with a knowing face. She walked us to the fitting rooms, and opened the room number 103. "Have fun!"

We put our right palms on the glass, waiting for the warmness to creep inside.

"Yes." Her voice was barely audible as the glass slid from under our palms and we started to descend with the whole room. When we had reached the bottom, a dark screen stood before us, red digital letters blinking at us with a little keypad beside it.

RAW CASE ID NUMBER

My mother typed in the number and the screen pushed up. We walked down a complete white washed lobby. The ceiling, the walls, and the floor, everything was white. There were no ventilators, yet the room felt warm and cozy. I know for a fact that there are cameras here, undetectable. There are sensors that will start feeling up water in the room if the code isn't entered in under 30 seconds.

The white wall parted, as if it were door, and behind it was a silver elevator styled door.

"VISITORS NAME AND CONFIRMATION PLEASE."

The robotic audio voice prompted.

"Jiya Rai, Defense Intelligence and Clandestine Server." The she looked at me.

"Neesha Rai, student at Royal Institute."

The doors slid apart, revealing the most beautiful, most covert place I have seen only once before. And once again, I was hit by the reality of my life.

The room was vast, and almost empty. The floors were black and white check boxes, as if someone had set it to play life size chess. Two stairs rounded up to the first floor from the other end of the room. I swept my gaze around and noted the number of security cameras that glared down at us. Seventeen. We passed from under the giant chandelier that held fine sensors that can easily detect any unknown face and when confirmed, it triggers an alarm that spots the person on every camera and holds him caged.

(I wasn't suppose to know that, but after my visit last time, Panchi was pretty curious, so she hacked into RAW's system.)

But the most beautiful part of this room was the large built in the center of the room. The capital of King Ashoka, The Emblem of India. The four lions stood in its glory, looking in all four direction, keeping an eye on everybody that crossed it's path. It was built out of gold, shining explicitly with beautiful texture. The words "Satyamev Jayate" spelled out in Sanskrit under it, and on the pillar where it stood, words "Dharma Rakshit Rakshitha". It was stunning.

"Mrs. Rai." A man dresses in corporate suite walked towards us with a smile on his face.

"Mr. Jamaal." Mother's smile was small.

"Is this your daughter?" He turned to look at me. "My, my. You have grown so much, young lady. I couldn't recognize you. It has been what, thirteen years?"

Yes sir, I am kind of, human too.

"Yes Mr. Jamaal." My mother said, her face calm and cool. "I am afraid I must have you know my daughter some other time. Director is awaiting our arrival."

"Oh! Of course of course! Don't let me waste your time." And with that, he strolled off towards an office behind one of the glass walls on the left.

"Who was that?" I asked as we started to climb up the steel and glass stairs.

"An old acquaintance that likes to run in people's business." My mother said with a straight face, but I couldn't help but giggle, and was happy when my mother cracked a smile too.

Something was bothering her, that's for sure. I am sure it wasn't because I was almost killed by an unknown group of people, because that was taken care of by keeping me inside Royal for weeks now.

Mr. Saxena has still not come to meet me. I shouldn't be disappointed, but I had hoped he would come. I admit it or not, he was closest to my father figure. (And even to my father, actually.)

When we were outside the Director's plush office, my mother turned to me.

"You will be alright." She said, giving me a light hug. "I have some work here. If I am not back by the time yours is over, let Mr. Garewal in the office there know, and he will take you home." I frowned, looking at Mr. Garewal's office, and nodded.

When I entered the office, the Director of RAW, was sitting on the head of a conference table and gestured me to sit at the other end. I nodded and sat down, as slowly as I could, making sure my rib doesn't hurt much.

He was an old man, with greying hair. His skin was a bit wrinkled, mostly due to stress. But his eyes held power.

"Where were you when the incident took place." He asked, his eyes on me.

"Underground parking lot of Hotel Elite." I replied.

"What were you doing there?"

"We were going to the eighteenth floor, but the elevator went down instead."

"You figure it was wrong way?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you take the route back?" I didn't answer and stared at the man in the eye. He knew everything that goes on under his agency, well, almost everything.

"Because I am trained to face obstacles, not run from them. I am here to protect my country, not myself." The guy in corporate suite, for the first time since I entered, looked a little surprise at my answer.

He asked me some more questions about the way they were dressed, and any sign of symbols. I answered them and told them there were no symbols. When I exited the room, I looked around for my mom, but there was no one, so I headed for the office of Mr. Garewal at the end of the corridor. Mr. Garewal was a young man with bright face. A smile never left his face and talked to me like an old friend as he escorted me out towards the mall.

"You're a bright young lady, just like your father." He told me, and I couldn't help the smile that formed on my lips at that.

"Thank you." I mumbled. He left me after the car that was supposed to take me back to school took me off. The night had already fallen and it was 8:00PM. I sighed and laid back on my sit, trying to forget he bandage that felt like a hard cage around me. I drifted off to sleep due to the calmness and warmness that surrounded me, taking the thoughts off my mind.

"Shit!" The driver cursed, jolting me awake. I flinched as a shot of pain went through my chest due to the jerk.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't get out of the car." He instructed, and ran out before I could protest. I tried to sit as silent as possible as the sirens of police cars surrounded the place. Out of curiosity, I rolled down my window, and tried to look around, without exposing myself. Maybe they came back...

The place was dark. There was no electricity anywhere. And I meant anywhere. The buildings around us, the street lights, the shopping centers, the huge city advertisement boards--everything was dark. The only lights were that came from the car's headlights and police sirens. I frowned. What the hell was going on? I quietly rolled up my window, stopping myself from getting out of the car.

It was just then a thought struck me. Royal girls are trained to do a lot of things. They can merge into any culture, speak almost any language and can convince a military agent to turn over their weapons. They can kick, punch and walk over ropes.

But there was one thing that we were bad at.

And that was, doing nothing.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a hand clamped my mouth. I tried to struggle as much as I can, but the broken rib cage isn't very helpful.

"Sh." Was only thing that was whispered in my ears, and that was the only thing I needed to stop struggling.

Ayush.