PERSONAL JUSTICE by Ramlee Awang Murshid

30

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

9 October 2000 - 10.00 a.m.

DALJIT stepped out of New York Hospital feeling disappointed. He was not allowed to see Hilman and Jeslina. A NYPD policeman had ordered him to leave the hospital immediately. In fact, the officer threatened to throw him into jail if he didn't obey his orders. The reporter wasn't allowed to take any photos of Hilman and Jeslina. Least of all to write a story on them. Totally forbidden! The orders were given by Dr. Cohen himself. 

Daljit heaved a heavy sigh. His heart protested in disappointment. There was not a single reporter outside the hospital. Whereas, the news was published in yesterday's Washington Post. Why wasn't there any follow-up story? It was suppose to be a big story! Daljit played the questions and answers in his mind. 

Just then, a car, coming from the direction of New York Avenue, stopped. Daljit was taken aback. He stepped backward to avoid the car as it stopped directly before him.

"Daljit! Get in!"

"Gabriel?" Daljit was surprised. 

"Get in quick!" Gabriel raised his voice. 

Daljit rushed in. The car sped off and turned right toward First Avenue. Moments later Gabriel turned into Second Avenue. And from there Gabriel went on to South Manhattan.

"When did you arrive?" Daljit asked. 

"Last night."

Gabriel face leftward, looking at Hotel Tudor opposite Ford Building and the UN Plaza-Park Hyatt. Immediately, someone appeared in his mind. 

"Gabriel?"

Daljit followed Gabriel's direction. Nothing strange except for the hotel building, vehicles and lots of people. 

"Oops... sorry," Gabriel smiled. 

"I've to tell you something, Daljit," Gabriel continued.

"What about?"

"Me," Gabriel said.

"Good." Daljit said in a monotone. 

"I'm... actually an M.I.A. agent."

"M.I.A?" Daljit frowned. 

"Malaysian Intelligence Agency," Gabriel explained. 

"You're a Malaysian?" Daljit was really surprised, 

Gabriel nodded.

"Gabriel Pereira... nice to meet you Mr. Daljit." Gabriel offered his right hand to Daljit.

"Yeah... nice to meet you, too, Mr. Gabriel."

Daljit smile wide. At last, Gabriel exposed his real identity. 

"Just call me Gabriel... as usual." He smiled back at Daljit. 

"Oh God... you really look like a Caucasian!" said Daljit in his Malaysian English accent.

"What's there to wonder... a Malaysian could represent any race in the world! There are Malaysians who look like Caucasians, or Japanese, Arab, Indon, Bangla... in fact, some even look like American Blacks. Indeed, Malaysians faces are global. Even you, without the turban, look like an Afghani!" Gabriel joked. But Daljit didn't even smile. Instead his eyes were opened wide in disbelief. 

"So... a Malaysian agent could operate in anywhere in this world without using a mole?" Daljit assumed. 

"No comment! Err... we're here in New York for the same reason, Daljit. The only differences are our motives. You're looking for a story while I'm looking for evidences," Gabriel said.