Behind Enemy Lines......

The press convention room was abuzz with a lot of unusual chatter and activity. Media personnel were being shown into the sixty seater hall after being put through rigorous frisking and security checks. The camera men were busy mounting their microphones on the orator’s podium. Occasionally there would be hushed snares and glares among the men as they vied for the spots that would command the most space on the international telecast of the event that was to air to the view of the entire world in just a few minutes.

Young journalists, many of whom who had never been to the historic parliamentary press room where just taken aback by the sheer majesty and architectural grandeur of the hall; even as they themselves were somewhat nervous about the happenings that was to follow. Besides them, experienced veterans sat with an air of petty confidence and calmness but they too would be lying if they claimed they weren’t anxious. And why wouldn’t they be. It was, after all, the biggest political sand storm that had kicked up after the 2004 beheadings of three Indian soldiers belonging to the border security force that manned the volatile Indo-Pak border. Though Pakistan had explicitly denied the hand of their armed forces in that brutal tragedy; it was nevertheless an open secret and every third grade dimwit in India knew the truth. The opposition had pounced upon the opportunity and every minister in both Houses of the Parliament left no stone unturned in declaring the government impotent and incapable of defending the nation. The government though, for their part had claimed that they were doing everything they could possibly do through diplomatic channels and that it was not in the nature of international protocol to take up arms and act in haste over such incidents without tangible proof. The media went berserk over all these developments and the fire that ensued lasted for over a month.

Now, after almost a decade, a controversy similar in nature but more grotesque in pattern had emerged. But the tide and in which they emerged were different. The opposition was the government and the then government had been reduced to a miniscule minority in the House. The new ruling order was seen as more authoritative and stronger than the older one and it was expected that this time, India’s response would be threatening. But the situation itself was delicate and not as simple as three servicemen being killed in combat. It involved a topic which no country on the face of the earth was comfortable talking about, though it was something which every country did and had to do for their own defence and survival; to maintain internal security and peaceful integrity of their international borders and to some extent play political hopscotch. The topic was espionage.

The sounds in the press hall were silenced immediately as the Prime Minister’s official media spokesperson Nirupama Roy entered the hall and went straight to the podium. She climbed the dice coolly like she had done countless number of times in the past, dragging her long embellished sari beneath her feet. After adjusting the microphone she began addressing the assembled journalists.

“Good morning everyone. I will keep this short. As you all are aware, this press conference was called by the Honourable Prime Minister in view of the alleged infiltration remarks by Pakistan in which it was claimed that the Pakistani Army had captured a secret agent working for the Government of India in an undisclosed location along the Pakistani side of the LOC. As scheduled, the PM will present his statement shortly. And he will not take any questions so I would request you to refrain from asking him any. Thank You.”, saying this, Roy cleared the podium and left the hall as fast she had appeared.

The ‘no questions’ clause let out a collective sigh of despair among the assembled media wolves who had spent their whole adult life jumping up and down at the opportunity of asking questions. Nevertheless, they would still try to incense him with blazing one liners and hope to make him feel compelled to answer atleast some of them. The issue was contentious and had ignited heated debates on international spy networking and insurgency. It nevertheless was expected by the general masses that the government would come out in full support of the captured agent and try to extradite him and get him back to his country and honour him with the highest gallantry medals. But this was just public, layman fancy – imbecile, foolish and driven by passion over brains. It didn’t work that way in the real world. There was no scope for patriotic sentiments or public opinions. The only thing that worked was diplomacy and every foreign relations expert in India knew what the PM’s response would be. So there were no surprises why the reporters felt deprived or even marginalized at not being allowed to question him on such a politically significant affair.

The doors opened and the bulky frame of Yudhishtir Sinha, the fourteenth Prime Minister of India stepped in holding a manila envelope in his hand. Giving his usual courtesy smile, he moved on to the podium clustered with innumerable microphones belonging to different news corporations. After having settled the envelope which contained the statement on the desk, Sinha took one long look at the assembly. His eyes swept through each and every reporter in the room, identifying some, being intimidated by some, and recording some new faces to his memory.

After taking a long, deep breath, he opened the envelope and pulled out the four page statement drafted by his expert team comprising of speech writers and eminent political advisors. Even though Sinha knew everything written on the statement by heart, he ignored the text at the last moment and began speaking extempore.

“As the Prime Minister of India, and as its numero uno representative, I hereby categorically deny all the allegations of espionage labelled by the Ministry of External Affairs, Pakistan as completely unfounded and baseless. The individual in question, Mr. Jasif Jamshed, has not been found to be part of any military or paramilitary regiment or troop under the command of the President of India. At the most he is an Indian citizen who has erringly wandered off into Pakistani territory. I assure the country that all possible means would be undertaken to get the concerned individual back to India safe and sound. Thank You”. Sinha stepped away from the podium and briskly walked towards the exit door even as he could hear those journalists hammering him with nasty questions like a group of hyenas attacking an infant deer.

Yudhishtir Sinha walked straight to the Parliamentary exit and out into the huge lawn where his official vehicle the BMW X5 – fortified, armoured and solidly bulletproof – waited for him flanked by guardsman belonging to India’s elite Special Protection Group, the force responsible for protecting PMs, former PMs and the President of India and their immediate families. The SPG was instituted after the assassination of Rajiv Gandhi by LTTE militants of Sri Lanka. Experts felt the need to have a dedicated protection force for the Prime Minister analogous to the American Secret Service. The selected individuals were cherry picked from various sources like the Armed Forces, the Police and sometimes even the Navy and the Air Force. Traditionally, the SPG is headed by an officer belonging to the Indian Police Service or the National Security Guards. As Sinha moved towards his SUV, he was flanked by two of these guards on the either side, alert and holding their MP5 submachine guns in a combat ready position, and they trailed him till he had entered the vehicle and closed those huge armor plated doors.

Once inside, Sinha picked up his secure handset rigged with speed dials to his most important official contacts. Not being a man too fond of technology, he began dialling a number out of his memory. A number he had called atleast fifty times in the past few days. After a few rings, Jai Rajeevan, a 1977 batch IPS officer and the present chief of R&AW, the Research and Analysis Wing, answered the phone.

“Yes, Mr. Prime Minister.”, the voice was bold and intimidating and the words spoken with a tone of awareness.

“The press conference is over Jai. Go ahead with the operation and call me back with the news that you have acquired Agent Jamshed back”, Sinha hung up the receiver back where it belonged and rested his head back on the seat. 

That was all that was needed to be said. He had just ordered an operation to rescue the same Indian citizen who had ‘erringly wandered off into Pakistani territory’; though he knew that was a statement far from the truth and that agent Jamshed had gone there as part of an infiltration attempt; as part of the many counter insurgency operations that are carried out by R&AW against Pakistan and ISI. And Jamshed was a son of the soil. Disowning him was never a choice. His service to the country can never  be repaid; but by bringing him back from the fangs of torture from under those ISI bastards, the country would have shown its own small gratitude towards him.