Vansh had described the guy perfectly. Kabir had decided to take a detour before heading back home. He knew the only place in the whole city where you would get a pistol to carry. It was near midnight, but the city almost never slept. But the place he was headed to was awake only at night. He walked through intricate lanes anyone would get lost in if they didn't know the way. But Kabir could never forget it. He walked over to a small building which was in such a rusty condition that it was surprising that it did not collapse on its own when a crow sat on its ledge. Kabir entered the building, carrying himself with such confidence that none of the men smoking hookah tried to stop him. He walked over to small room at the end of the corridor on the first floor and knocked politely on the door. A man swung the door open and looked at him in a disinterested manner. "Who are you?" He asked.
"I wish to speak with the mudarris," Kabir replied.
"He does not see people like this, without a proper appointment," the man replied.
In response, Kabir kicked the man in his abdomen and as he fell back, caught him by his collar and said, "Learn your place brother."
"You haven't lost your temper, son," a voice said from a bed place in the corner of the room.
Kabir turned to see the man. "When did you start hiring incompetent people?"
"Ver recently," the man replied, a hint of humor in his voice.
Kabir walked over and sat at the man's feet. "Was one of your men near the Victoria Memorial a few nights back," Kabir asked.
"And what would be the repercussions if I refused to answer the question?" The man asked.
"RAW knocking at your front door," Kabir replied curtly.
The old man sighed. "Yes. I now believe that his timing was most unfortunate," he said. At this, Kabir raised an eyebrow. "We're not terrorists, Kabir. We like to do things our way, and the government does not like it, so we do it secretly. Have we not helped RAW countless times before? Getting them weapons? Information? How many children have we lost for their cause? Only to be now suspected as traitors?" The man said, a hint of anger in his voice.
Kabir processed this. He knew the brotherhood well enough to know that betraying was not in their habits. They were too self respectful for that. But if one of their men had been near the Memorial, it could have meant something. The brotherhood may not be untrustworthy, but it could not take the guarantee of all it's members. "Why was he there?" Kabir finally asked.
"Investigating a lead RAW itself had given us. A woman."
Kabir nodded. "Can I talk to the man?"
"Sure. Aftab, call Basheer. Tell him to be here fast." The man ordered the person Kabir had kicked. The man scurried off.
Minutes later, Basheer was sitting across Kabir, sipping kahwa.
"What were you doing there, Basheer?" Kabir asked.
"Following a woman, brother," Basheer said calmly.
"Did you hear or see anything suspicious while you were near the park?"
"Nothing other than the convoys of the PMs."
Kabir nodded. "Anything suspicious the woman did? Why were you asked to follow her?"
"I believe you are better equipped to answer that particular question, brother. Your agency assigned me to do the job."
"I would like to hear it from your mouth, Basheer," Kabir said with a smile.
"She was causing problems, brother, and if your people have not told you about it, I guess I shouldn't either," he replied.
Kabir nodded. He would have to convey this to Vansh. Why the hell was RAW spying on it's own agents? And if they knew about the woman being a traitor, why did Markande not inform this to them?
He got up to leave with a troubled mind. As he opened the door, the old man called from behind, "When will you come back, Kabir?"
"What tells you I ever will?" Kabir asked rudely.
"Well, a lost lion always returns to his jungle. A child always returns home," the man said with a smile.