A man in his mid–twenties was sitting in a lounge of Indira Gandhi International Airport. The man was neither fair nor dark, as most of the Indians are. He was wearing a black jacket and blue jeans. He was waiting for a message to come. The man was inside the airport since seven am, and now the time was ten am.
He walked out of the lounge and sat on a steel chair in a distance. He found no one sitting there except a man who seemed to be in his forties. Soon his phone beeped. He had received the message it seems.
TARGET IS BESIDE YOU
He turned his gaze towards the man beside him. That man was staring at him too. He was in a blue T–shirt and a denim jacket on it. He had his hands inside his jacket.
The young Indian understood that the man beside him was ready to pull out a pistol from his pocket and shoot him.
The young Indian stood up, smiling. He deleted the message he had recently received and threw the phone in a blue dustbin beside the steel chair. He walked away, taking out a new cellular phone. It was Samsung Galaxy A30s. The young Indian sent a message to his colleagues:-
HACK THE CCTV
A few seconds later he received another message:-
DONE
The young man smiled and took out a palm sized remote from his pocket. He pressed a red button on it.
After he moved out of the area, the man with pistol stood up. He was surprised to see the Indian's strange attitude. The man with pistol opened the dustbin and took out the thrown cell–phone. There was a virtual blue button displayed on the screen of the cellular phone with 'RAW's classified information' written in italicised text above it. RAW, Research and Analysis Wing is the Intelligence Agency of India.
The man with pistol sneered at the virtual button and clicked it. Suddenly, the phone started sparking. The man crossed his eye–brows. There came a sudden noise and the man fell down unconsciously.
The young Indian was watching everything, hiding, from a distance. Then he typed a message back in his phone.
TERRORIST HAS FAINTED
He again pressed the red–button of the remote he had and walked towards the fainted terrorist. He picked up his phone and kicked the pistol out of the pocket of the terrorist.
"He has a gun!" he cried to a guard who had just appeared. The young Indian detective had to act hysterical.
"What?" the guard cried and rushed to the fainted terrorist.
The young Indian walked out of the area.
"Hello? Control room? I need the CCTV footage of the area outside the lounge near gate twenty four B of the Terminal 3", the guard spoke in his walkie–talkie.
"Sorry sir," a voice came from his device, "we can't get access to the CCTV. They aren't working."
"How the hell?" the guard snapped.
The young Indian detective was now out of the terminal and back to his Benz. He had just received a reply from RAW:-
GREAT JOB AGENT
NOW WE ARE BLOCKING YOU FROM OUR CONTACTS
The Indian man put his phone back in his pocket. He pulled out a paint–can which was below his seat in the car. The can contained a thick skin coloured paste. The Indian took out a brush and painted the paste on his hair. After he was done, he looked bald. He pulled out a fake moustache from his pocket and placed it below his nose.
"Mission accomplished", he sighed gleefully and drove his Benz away from the airport.
When he was far away from the airport, a soft low-pitched voice came from the back–seat of his Benz. "Meow!"
The young detective smiled and leaned back. "Hey, Crunchy, I forgot you're here!"
Crunchy the cat is his full–time partner in all the missions he has to go. Crunchy is a cute white furred cat with a brown coloured woolen cap on his head. With the cap, he looks like a detective. The cat is chubby and has a locket with 'CRUNCHY' written on it. Crunchy is not the pet of the young detective. He's more like a brother for him. Unlike most of the domestic cats, Crunchy likes not to be cleaned. He has long and sharp nails which are really valuable. His nails come in handy in most of his missions.
"Mew mow?" Crunchy asked.
"Actually, no," the young detective replied. He's the only one who understands what Crunchy wants to say, as he has been living with him since his childhood. "We don't have any other tasks for the day."
YOU ARE READING
The Cursed Shell
Mystery / Thriller"It will start from the end...the end will start from it......" World's best known Sanskrit scholars are dying, one-by-one. Detective Ritesh Dhawan and a talented young boy have to find the person behind the deaths before the killer targets more peo...
