It was a busy day after the weekend. Moutasim rested his head against the big leather swivel chair. He wasn't even through half of the work that lied in front of him yet. His peers noticed his unusually slow mechanism earlier in the day but nobody badgered him about it. As undercover cops, it was natural how one could get under mental trauma or anxiety for all the genuine reasons.
But it wasn't the current case that was haunting Moutasim. He had been through rougher times in the past and had fled off smoothly. Right now, he couldn't just get her face out of his mind. Though he had been closely following her through cameras and GPS trackers, he had actually seen her after two whole years!
The meeting was almost like how he felt when he was a teen. He didn't know what to say to her, he didn't even know if they were on the same page, as if they ever were. That is why he had kept the meeting strictly professional. It was supposed to be like that, anyways but emotions do kick in here and there no matter the code of 'conduct'.
He was awestruck at how she had pointed out being 'Mrs Moutasim Ali Khan.' It was unbelievable that she still considered their marriage to be something, leave alone herself as his wife. Their forced marriage was still struggling to thrive but it was alive even though it had drowned in countless storms over the years. That was something that hit him in the moment.
He didn't expect her to, nor himself. He was almost going to divorce her the time they were separating in Turkey. He had to stop himself from doing that because of the word he had given to Agha Jaan. He had done so, reluctantly, without wanting an inch of this marriage to Riya but he had done it because his grandfather wanted him to.
At the time of their Nikah, he had said, "Promise me something, Moutasim. No matter what happens, you won't ever turn your back on her. She has no one, except you or me."
"I promise, Agha Jaan."
He had promised his vulnerable grandfather for something he wasn't sure about, not at all. Nevertheless, he still abided by his decision. He didn't know why he had chosen him out of all the people. "I trust you." He had said. He could have chosen one of his other cousins or his own elder brother. Did Agha Jaan know that he loved her? Maybe he did, but he also knew that Moutasim lived his life on an edge!
Agha Jaan, his parents and siblings knew well that Moutasim was an undercover agent. The only thing his mother worried about was his safety among the scoundrels he worked with to get them behind bars. This could cost his life but he was pretty rock solid about it.
Why did he choose the profession that always had his mother worried in knots? He wanted to wipe out the evil from this world. And he could only do that by pretending to be evil himself.
His family had thought that he did it as he was furious at himself, for all the bad reputation the false statement had brought him because of Riya. They had blamed her for everything, they thought, she was the one who had got him in the state he was. Aggressive was an understatement.
Little did they know, that the aggression was to chase his dream. His childhood dream of becoming a hero. Riya's deceit had only given him a boost to work harder, he used it as a strength to achieve his goals faster, though furiously.
After he was falsely charged with the hit-and-run case, all thanks to Riya's father, a million bucks was paid by his own father as the blood money that the victim's family had demanded. He was thankful that his family knew what the truth was and upon his insistence, they didn't file a case back against his uncle. That would have certainly put Riya in a bad light and he would never have let that happen.
He hadn't been easily accepted in the intelligence bureau due to the recent case he had gotten out from. Still, they admitted him considering it an 'accident' and had put him under training right away. His instructors had observed his intense will to cope up with the tough routine that was about to follow. He had to quit university mid-way to solely focus on his career.
He was trained for about a year and a half and had been assigned to crack the drug dealers as his first graded project. He had started off trading drugs with local dealers on his own so that the dons could confide in him. He initially began as a small proprietor and gradually within a year or so, had made his place big in the underworld. He had left no stone unturned to make himself look as real as he could, trying to appear as a full-time gangster was no easy job.
His family had dissed him often for his appearance despite knowing it all. Torn, faded jeans and fluorescent gunjee tops over it, he used to wear his hair long just to add an extra element to his look. Sometimes, he even had to act like he was drunk or was on weeds; startling his brother a few times. He was that good at it. Though smoking came naturally to him so there was no need for any drama. He was a fashionable smoker.
Once he started working for Panther and many other small gangs, there was no turning back. He was a skilled worker, sincere individually to all of them. Panther had regarded him as a special treat to his clan, he often found himself at his mercy for his sharpness at work. Unfortunately, his cover was badly blown when he was in Swat while he had been dodging to stop the sugar containers to be shipped to Saudi Arabia.
Udayl, his co-worker and a very close friend was also undercover and had been reporting to him about Panther's activities while he was away for the wedding. His life was taken away because Panther had got through them both. He had killed Udayl first and then was after Moutasim.
He had scanned the globe for Moutasim and when he did find his exact location, he sent his men trudging through the mountains of the Kalam Valley. That's when Riya had encountered some masked men behind the bushes when she had gone too far riding on her horse. They had actually been there on a scheme to shoot Moutasim in the head but missed their golden chance.
When Panther had been informed that Moutasim was all set to get married, without knowing the real circumstances of the forced marriage whatsoever, he decided to kidnap his newly-wed bride so that Moutasim would obviously follow and it would be easier to trap and kill him.
The plan had worked in full swing; exactly to the core of Panther's mind. Moutasim didn't care about what would follow or what would become of his career as an undercover cop. He had taken off, leaving all risks looming on his head like a dagger, just to get Riya safe and sound.
After a couple of days of playing hide and seek in Istanbul, he had a master plan. The father of all plans ever made by anyone.
He put everything at stake to send her home safely through the Turkish civil services. His job as an undercover agent had already been tarnished. Nothing was left, really. He was going to be killed anyway.
But, he was one of those who would cling on to hope like a loose dangling rope, all tattered and broken but the light of taking one last risk still burnt in him. If not, he knew he will be dead, so why not still die but in his own style?
First, he made sure that his plan to send Riya home worked. Her insistence to go shopping in Taksim square was a bonus factor to his already built plan. He had gone out into the open deliberately leaving Riya alone for a while just to see what their next step would be. It was exactly as he thought it would be; they were tapped!
Once that was done, he planned to make his death look like an accident or a suicide, but that was what he wanted the world to believe. He wasn't even in the hut when it exploded. He was near not in it, but for Panther who was chasing, it was made to seem to him as if Moutasim were inside.
Later, his department asked him to move away somewhere safe, until Panther could really be found for once and for all. Over the course of the period when Moutasim had worked for him, he had been successfully able to obtain most of his private details. Bank account details, types of transactions, funding sources, his net worth, all of it. This is why Panther was so adamant to kill Moutasim. Though, there was a doubt if Panther ever believed of his 'death'. NIB had to be ultra-cautious at handling this wanted devil even more from then on.
Moutasim, along with his family moved to Norway. According to the records, that was kind of the only place where Panther didn't have any influence. While he was away, he had put Drake on the job to guard Riya at all times and just recently, he had also asked him to get himself hired as a regular employee in the same office, to be very careful.
Just a month ago, he returned only until he was informed by his team that there was an odd exchange of information between the law firm where also coincidentally Riya worked and an unknown party. He knew where this all would lead to. They would make sure that Riya would get exploited to redirect all the cases and charges against the real culprits, through her boss. They'd use her as a puppet. He had smelt the trouble long before it even touched Riya.
He had to be there to make things look like they were coming out according to a plan they had made but it was actually going to be according to his. Moutasim had returned to Dubai again. To put a stop to everything that had gone out of control a lot of years ago. He just had to before it was too late.
There was a knock at the door.
His secretary told him that Riya was waiting in the lobby. His face softened. So she had finally decided to come after all the banter over the phone. She had refused to come and bickered to give in to him when he had called her and asked her to drop by in his office.
He stretched and cleared away some of the mess from his table, "Send her in."
She entered, looking somewhat humane since their last meeting where her face had turned to ghost white.
She smiled at him.
That was refreshing to see but he was doubtful because she always had something up her sleeve.
Riya burst out laughing.
"This isn't working, Moutasim." She said gasping between giggles.
He coughed and straightened up in his chair, not having any idea what she was talking about. God knows how he was able to manage a straight face when she was twisting with laughter.
"Look, I know this is your job but this whole thing had blown my mind away yesterday. It really did. For a moment its like I'm in a dream and in another, it's quite overwhelming to know that it's you for real. I didn't know whether to cry or be happy that you're actually alive."
"If we see our past records, you should cry. Don't you think?"
She looked at her nails and smiled solemnly.
He waited for her to say something but she didn't. He noticed that it was a major change in her, she had become pretty calculative about what she said now. For the most part, her verbal diarrhoea had disappeared.
"So, what did you do?" He pulled her out from her thoughts.
"I don't know. I didn't cry nor did I dance, I just slept when I went home."
He chuckled, waving his hand in the air, "And why am I not surprised about that?"
"I feel grateful."
He gave her a thoughtful look, "For?"
"I am really very grateful that you're here, Moutasim. I couldn't have asked for more."
Their eyes locked. His eyes were so different in moments like these, softer than she knew eyes could be. The professional man was gone and instead it was the eyes of one who loves deeply. If it were anyone else she would have dropped her gaze, but with him, she was drawn in closer.
Then he said the words perhaps she needed to hear, "We're okay, you and me. Okay?"
She just nodded, taking in every moment for her memory, knowing it was the medication she had been missing these days. In all the world there wasn't another like him, or her for that matter; they were two souls who felt like once upon another reality they were soul mates, eternal flames.
He tried changing the electrons around him that were going wild with static, "Riya, I know how hard it must have been for you. All the interrogations, pressure and what not. I'm sorry you had to go through all that alone." He thought that his sweet sympathy sounded lame. What more could he say?
She shook her head out of the trance, "I'm glad I had to. It made me a better person."
He could see that but if Riya had anything in her mind that Moutasim was going to give her what she seemed to need, then she was dead wrong. They had to professionally collaborate and there would be times that she'd expect something off from him, considering they were still married. For that, he'd have to clear the air completely so they could work together efficiently, keeping the personal shenanigans at bay.
He opened his mouth to clarify things when she said, "Okay, so where do we begin?"
She was being smart. Not once had she got in his way to make things come together. She was cooperating more than he had expected and that was all he ever wanted.
She was opening a notepad to take things down to start away instantly. He let it go and logged in his computer to show her a flowchart of all the wanted criminals and other suspects.
For about an hour of explaining and getting her familiar with the NIB plan, he put his pen down. "Alright, that's it for today."
"But, you still haven't revealed the major suspected murderer of the case I was working on." She nibbled at the end of her pencil, looking impatient.
"Take it easy, we'll do it one step at a time."
She didn't look convinced. He liked how she was so eager to know details and was taking her work sincerely.
Propping her elbow on the table, she leaned her face in her palm, "So, why did you ask me to quit my job?"
"You don't have to really quit it." He said without looking away from the screen.
She looked around at the decor of the office. It was simple yet elegant. "Then?"
It was painted grey, and it had only one floor-to-ceiling window, which faced the main road. On the grey desk sat a desktop computer, a notebook lying open, and a stack of papers sitting under a turtle-shaped paperweight. In a corner, the air conditioner was blasting at medium, and there was a high length table in the centre of the office with a pendant lamp hanging low over it. A bookshelf, bursting with books was in a corner, with yet another stack of papers under a paperweight that was shaped to look like a tuft of grass. She loved how the sunlight was streaming without any filters with the curtain blinds completely open. There was a gentle yellow tint in the room which glowed and felt fresh in the mind.
"You'll go there, but you'd have to work for me instead of your boss."
Her eyebrows furrowed, "But I get paid by them."
He stopped tapping on his iPad and looked up, "You'll also get paid by me."
"Why are you turning me into a secret agent? I'm a legal researcher and hope to become a lawyer one day." Her eyes shone with the sparkle of her dreams when she spoke.
"I know but I need your help." It was almost a desperate plea.
He was asking her for help for the first time ever. If this was some years ago, Riya's pride -o- meter would have shot off the actual radar, but right at that second, why wouldn't she give in to the one person who had given so much to her all her life?
"I'm ready to help you in any way I can." She knew she could never repay him but at least she could try.
He was pleased, "Thank you."
His smile sent butterflies to her stomach. What was happening to her? Maybe, it was just fatuation. She was practically drooling over a very handsome looking intelligence officer who also happened to be her husband?
Moutasim was the kind of agent who looked like he had been born in a suit. If he wasn't Riya's cousin, it would have never looked like to her if he was ever a baby or an infant. He was a serious man with a serious gun who rolled off the assembly line in NIB, United Arab Emirates. He had the standard issue bronzed face with a spiky bearded stubble and the ubiquitous square shoulders and squarer chin.
He spoke with a baritone voice and clipped legalistic words. Life seemed to have no colour for him, no shades of grey either, it was all black/white, right/wrong, legal/illegal.
She had known him all her life but how come it was only then that she was finding him exceedingly attractive?
She pulled the brakes in her mind and quickly asked him something before she could do anything stupid. "Wouldn't these "people" notice about my visit to your office?"
He knew what she meant. The murderer was definitely having a watch over where she was going in and out, they were tracking her calls too so she wouldn't go overboard and inform about the suspicious activities in her office. That is why he had called on her landline phone earlier.
"We're taking care about that but when you exit, just use the elevator on the right-hand side."
Was he asking her to leave? She was a little disappointed but she nodded and stood up to leave anyway.
Gathering her things, she asked, "How do we stay in touch?"
It surprised him that how engrossed she had become in the part she was going to play for the next couple of weeks. There was definitely no need to explain her with every single detail. She was grasping things quickly and sharply implying them wherever it was needed up till now.
He opened a desk drawer and handed her a phone, "This will come in handy."
"Thank you."
She turned and neared the door to leave when suddenly, she tilted her head and asked, "How's Aunty Kashmala? We rarely hear from her."
He leant back in the chair and swept his hand in his neatly cropped hair, "Mom is too pissed at me for returning to Dubai. She wouldn't answer my calls since I got here."
He looked pretty concerned but started glancing at the papers in front of him, again.
"You can't blame her Moutasim. She's always been worrying for you."
He didn't look up and she quietly slid out of the door.
When she finally exited the premises from the side elevator that Moutasim had asked her to use, she found pushcarts and people casually strolling in with kids dashing inside from the entrance on the front.
Now a detective working agency would definitely not have this sort of an environment. She didn't know what was going on.
Puzzled, she came down the steps and looked up to the huge signboard that read: 'Farmland Grocers'
What?
An intelligence agency is located at the back of a grocery store?!
She remembered that she had entered from the back side of the building surrounded by high-end walls and it looked like what any normal office lobby would look like. Though she had noticed that it quite didn't give the likeness of NIB or any other bureau that one could picture. There were no strange men going in and about or heavily weaponed cops. Everybody who was present there was in a suit, including Moutasim. Maybe, that's how it actually looks like.
Still thinking about the absurdity, she got into her car, reversed it to hit the main road when she noticed that a black sedan was following her.
"This is why NIB has to disguise locations to keep enemies off the barriers."
To the ones who were keeping an eye on her, they were absolutely in a transfixion that she had come out of a grocery store. No one could guess in a million years that she has had a meeting with the chief officer of NIB.
NIB is smart, she thought with a smirk.
She adjusted her rearview mirror and caught Drake's car following her too. She rolled her eyes at the thought of having a bodyguard 24/7 whenever she was out of the house but it did become a necessity after the attack and her being followed by evil men. She couldn't take a chance to be on the lose.
Although, her being a danger to the culprit was totally off the question otherwise, but that was not the case now. They were just on the verge of the cliff to be pushed into the dungeons of punishment they deserved.
Riya felt satisfied to be collaborating with NIB; with Moutasim Ali Khan. He was that safe zone she had always took refuge in but had never confessed to herself. Today, she was doing it and she wouldn't feel it a crime to confess it to anybody in the world.
She glanced in the rearview and saw those two cars still racing down behind her, the bad ones were oblivious of Drake's existence.
She was in between the war of two worlds.
Mafia vs NIB