If they were successful, the benefit to India would be incalculable. Perhaps a movie would be made about them. Knowing her siblings’ love of cinema, that would probably impress them even more than a medal presented to her in secret.
Not that any of that made any difference. That wasn’t why she had signed up with RAW.
Before landing, she pinned up her hair, changed into the Defense Security Corps uniform that had been hung on the back of the lavatory door, and checked the name tape on her uniform to make sure it matched her ID, which of course it did.
She secured her Glock inside the waistband of her fatigues, hiding it under her “jacket,” as the camouflage uniform shirt was called, and rejoined Gupta in the cabin. There was one last question she wanted to pose.
“Tell me about Raj’s son,” she said.
The older man shrugged as he packed his pipe with tobacco. “There’s not much to tell.”
“Until today, I had believed he and his wife were childless.”
“Which is exactly what they wanted people to believe. Even if they’d had ten children, no one would have known. Our attachments—the people and things we care about—are what make us vulnerable in this line of work.”
“What was the cause of the boy’s blindness?”
“I don’t know,” said Gupta. “He doesn’t talk about it.”
“Where is his son now?”
“He has a job, in a small workshop in Ghaziabad. It’s an easy drive from New Delhi, so they’re both able to visit him on a regular basis.”
“How old is the boy?”
“The boy is now a man. Twenty-five. He has a fiancée. She’s nineteen and works in the same shop weaving chair caning. They’ll be getting married in the spring. They want to have children.”
“Raj and his wife must be very happy,” said Asha.
“For the first time in a long time, it would appear,” he replied. Then, fastening his seat belt, he gestured for her to do the same.
Minutes later, they touched down at Sulur, India’s second-largest air base, responsible for protecting all of the country’s ocean territory. It could handle both fighters and transport aircraft—the only air force station in India capable of doing so.
The weather was overcast. A thin fog lingered over the airfield.
“Ready to go?” Gupta asked as he accompanied Asha to the forward door and a crew member lowered the airstairs.
She nodded.
“You’ve got this,” he told her. “And we’ve got you.”
“Alltwoof you.”
Gupta held out his hands. “If you think you can pick two better, you know how to reach us.”
Asha pulled the cell phone she’d been given from her pocket and shook it. “You’re both on my speed dial. In fact, you’re the only ones on my speed dial.”
“Relax. You’re going to do a good job. Raj has faith in you.”
“Just Raj?”
The older man smiled. “Faith involves trust. Trust is based on experience. And experience is arrived at over time. I look forward to developing faith in you,” he said, lighting his pipe and stepping back so she could descend the stairs. “The clock starts now.”
Asha smiled back and shook her head. It was an odd pep talk. She didn’t have any time, however, to dwell on it. Waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her was a green Maruti Gypsy—a jeep-like vehicle popular with the Indian military. Standing next to it was a young Defense Security Corps soldier.
After saluting her, he raised his voice so he could be heard and introduced himself as Lance Naik Kamal Khan.Lance Naikwas the Indian Army’s equivalent to a lance corporal.
Asha returned his salute and handed him her backpack, which he placed behind the Maruti’s passenger seat.