Chapter 29 #2
“The third was an explosive. I am not sure where it went off because there was already smoke and stampede.”
“Two out of three were close to you. Is it now safe to assume, to the best of our collective wisdom, that the missiles were targeted at you, Chief Minister Kaul?”
“You can assume as you wish, Justice Thakur,” Zorji interrupted again, just as pointed. “My client will not voice any assumption out here in an inquiry that is weighing his every word.”
“Very well, Advocate Rasool. Will your client tell us how he escaped the crime scene?”
“It’s a daring story.”
Low chuckles reverberated. Atharva glanced up, and four out of five of his interrogators were hiding their smiles.
“My cars were already lined up behind the mosque. The security used standard protocol in stampede situation. I was bubbled and escorted to the car. The convoy sped out of the alley. Everybody was accounted for and safe.”
“I don’t find anything daring in this story.”
Zorji was just smirking at her. Atharva didn’t know what he was doing but he trusted the old fox with more than his life.
“What did you do as soon as you were safe, Chief Minister Kaul?”
“I convened my Private Secretary and Head of Security.”
Justice Thakur’s brows went up. Atharva blinked, quiet.
“And?” She pushed expectantly.
“He is ex-SFF,” Lieutenant General Sharma laughed. “He does not answer more than asked.”
If Justice Thakur found this amusing and annoying all at once, her expression did a decent job of not showing.
“Chief Minister Kaul, to set the precedent for our conversation going forward — when I ask a question, I expect an answer like a responsible head of a civilian office.”
“Noted, ma’am.”
“What did you do after convening your Private Secretary and Head of Security — in detail?”
“I briefed my Private Secretary, and my Head of Security gave us a rundown of the incident. Their counsel was to establish contact with the Home Ministry of India and relay the incident.”
“You did not do that.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Why?”
“Because informing the Home Ministry that a sitting Chief Minister of an Indian state had been under attack in a foreign country would have meant relaying an act of war. As Chief Minister of Jammu & Kashmir, I was privy to the delicate situation on our various borders. A fitting response would have to be given. It would not have stopped at that. And my state would have been caught in the crossfire. Moreover, the country is on a path to unprecedented economic progress. A conflict would set us back.”
“That decision was not yours to make.”
“That’s a grey area.”
Justice Thakur’s head cocked, as if he were being an arrogant asshole.
“Please explain.”
“I was the victim, I was also substantially informed about situations surrounding a potential conflict. The state I govern was sitting in the crossfire, with already disturbed internal issues. I made a decision then to keep quiet, finish my engagements and fly out immediately.”
“You did not stop at keeping quiet. You altered your travel memo.”
“I did not alter it. I refrained from mentioning this incident.”
“That’s altering facts. On a constitutional position, you held back vital information.”
Atharva stared at her. What did she want him to admit? That he was not dumb enough to plan to hide the incident and then go and write a memo about it?
“There is one other discrepancy on that day,” Justice Thakur glanced down into her notes.
Atharva held his breath.
“You sent your plane back to India that night?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“My son had a bad bout of diarrhoea and was severely dehydrated. He wasn’t able to stomach his usual brand of milk powder. We needed the one that suits him while on stomach ailments, as well as his medication.”
“You do know what the cost of sending a private plane is, don’t you, Chief Minister Kaul? That’s public money you are bleeding.”
“I funded that trip.”
Justice Thakur stilled, taken aback along with the rest of her colleagues. Zorji pulled out a stapled bunch from his file and offered it to them — “Here’s the payment record.”
Ashfaq Khan strode to Zorji and accepted the stapled bunch. He passed it to Justice Thakur and they all huddled together, reading through it.
“Why wasn’t this submitted to the committee before?” Lieutenant General Sharma questioned.
“It is in public record. The summons for files did not ask for the plane trip specifically,” Zorji answered.
The five of them settled back on their seats.
“It’s strange, Chief Minister Kaul,” the NIA officer leaned in. “That you did not send the plane back to Srinagar but to Kargil.”
Atharva looked him in the eye — “That’s the shortest route.”
“But Srinagar to Kargil is a long way by road. You want to tell me that you sent milk and medicines from your home, which I presume is in Srinagar, to Kargil by road, and then had them picked up from there?”
“At that short notice, we weren’t sure if Srinagar Airport would have a landing slot.”
“Did you check?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Kargil is relatively empty, air traffic-wise.”
“And if you sent a plane on an emergency, how did you get milk and medicines so quickly to Kargil from Srinagar? It’s a good day’s journey.”
“Kargil has pharmacies, sir. And now they stock more than just essentials.”
He had no further questions then. Atharva felt his internal heat settle.
But then the RAW started its set of grilling — the same set of questions, asked in different ways, with different contexts.
Atharva knew how it would all come. He knew the tactics of interrogation, had been on the other side of it on numerous occasions.
Today, as he sat under the scanner, compelled to repeat the same story five different ways, all the while making sure he was treading on a fine line, he felt the tick of every second in his bones.
“Any questions before we wrap up, gentlemen?” Justice Thakur finally cued her colleagues. They all rested back, shaking their heads.
“Chief Minister Kaul — do you have anything to say?”
“No, ma’am.”
“You do know that this is a preliminary hearing and with the way you have divulged all facts, we may not call you again.”
“I do, ma’am.”
“My suggestion would be to make your defence at this point, son,” Lieutenant General Sharma cued him again. “You may not get another chance.”
Atharva glanced at Zorji. No expression. No nod. No shake of his eyes.
Give it to them straight.
“As a soldier of the Special Frontier Forces, I am trained to take quick, informed decisions that have the least liability for my country. Sometimes in the middle of battlefield. Sometimes at the moment marking the end of a mission. I was caught in a place on the 27th of October 2016 where I had to call upon that training to not only save myself and my aides but also save what could potentially turn into a war.”
“It can still turn into a war once the final report of this SIT is released.” Lieutenant General Sharma pointed. “An attack on a sitting CM is still an act of war, even if revealed a year later."
“Then that is a responsibility you shoulder with me, sir,” Atharva nodded at them all. He felt the proud intake of breath from beside him.
“If that is all, I will bring this hearing to an end,” Justice Thakur got to her feet. Atharva pushed his chair back and stood. “Thank you for answering our questions, Chief Minister Kaul.”
Atharva nodded. He picked up his phone, looked at Zorji, and began to stride to the door. It opened and heavy sunlight hit his eyes. How long had he been inside here? He checked his phone screen and it was 3 pm. That had lasted 9 hours?
His phone had blown up with messages and emails and calls as usual when it went unattended for this long. His thumb pressed down on the only one that mattered.
IRAM
New word unlocked
……..
Atharva hit play on the voice note.
“Thava… Babaababa thava… Who is Atharva? Babaaaa… Who is Baba, Arth?… Thava!”
Atharva blinked, turned to the gate. His security, Altaf, Zafarji, all fell around him. He had mapped all exits, but the main one was open for him, the tricolour flying high over it.
“Traitor! Traitor! What are you hiding?!”
“CM Kaul — RESIGN! CM Kaul — RESIGN!”
He took one step, then another, then another, and strode out with his head held high.