This is what I precisely loathe about my job. For someone who has engaged in political spying and official bureaucratic espionage for over seven years now, not permitting to own a car for personal or official use is a fucking sadistic joke. Sure, I get it when I need it but having the power to decide when I'd need it clutched in the hands of my superiors is ludicrous. And these buses that drive on the roads full of water-logged potholes like an ever pausing old man trying to ride a milf makes me feel the ones denying me my vehicle are evil. That's the price I'm paying for requiring to be so anonymous. But deep inside, I blurt the joy of a patriot. Joy of a loyalist who believes his work has been of some significance to the country.

Muddy bus station and the drizzling rain almost instantly had me call a taxi as I alighted. "Sharif wasn't exaggerating, it sure is a beautiful place", I concurred. The little town of Vihanta, sitting quietly on the slopes of Western Ghats has a serene beauty to it. Beauty of an angel who's elegant enough to not spoil it with futile cacophony. Of a lady who knows to and when to act. I wonder what kind of espionage drill Mr.Sharif wanted me to undertake in this tiny, tidy, unsullied place. May be it has its share associated with all the fucking nuisance from Sunar, the nearest big city, home to crooks of a thousand kinds.

"Hi, this is Magnesium", said I, as I called Sharif from the little yet decent room of Mayanta Lodge I just arrived at.

"Good to see you. Welcome to Vihanta. Take rest tonight. We'll meet tomorrow at 10 in the city police station", he said. The same firm voice, no bullshit in his words. Amanulla Sharif had a reputation of being one of the honest officers in the department. A background check enabled me know he had already got his doze of half a dozen transfers for taking on the bitch that is bureaucracy.



When the rain stopped, I stepped out for a stroll, my usual habit - a spy's natural tendency to look around, talk to people, get a hang of the place. Folded umbrellas, mothers taking their children home from school - nothing remarkable until at least half a mile. Or until -

"I didn't realize we had a lot of government projects going on here", I said.

She turned around, still biting a few last bits of her hot maize from the roadside.

"Umm. Well. Here we are."

She looked lovely. Her long shiny hair hung over her shoulder one side kissing her breast. In her dark blue jeans and white tee, she made it so hard for me to believe she had over ten years of experience in Intelligence Bureau. She could easily pass for a teenager, I thought. Laid away the compliments as it would be dangerous and in some rare cases illegal to flirt with an officer on duty, if at all she was.

"Do you speak the local language", I asked.

"Not really, no. A bit of it. Just the basics."

"Like 'how are you'"?

"Only the ones I need."

I gave an interrogative look, upping my eyebrows.

"Like 'son of a bitch', maybe."

Chuckled. She was a hard nut - something that made her so efficient. I knew her name really well, at least a dozen of them. Smitha, Shubha, Lucia and what not.

"So," I continued, "what university this time? USC? UCLA?", I laughed.

"I'm Vasudha.", she replied.

That was her linguistic quirk, if you'd like. She chose her name for every case with an international university acronym in it. She had some weird reason for that habit that never really impressed me.

"Nice to meet you, Vasudha. Was a pleasant surprise".

"Same here I must say. The city looks too small to have multiple ongoing espionage cases."

"My thoughts exactly.. So, are you on diet?"

"Yeah. Not sure if I'm following it properly, though".

"Not sure if I understood".

"Never mind", she sniggered.

That was our way of asking if someone was working on a case or was there some room for a small talk, may be a smoke, or a drink if you may - 'Still on diet?'.

She didn't make it clear if she was indeed on diet or not, so I assumed I better be leaving.

"Any who, got to go. Nice meeting you, Vasu. Hope to see you soon."

"See you", her indifferent tone was a bit disappointing to me but one can never take anything at face value in our business.

"Hey listen", she called back. I was all ears.

"What about you? Dieting?"

"No, not really. Not yet."

She just smiled as though it was nothing more than a question for the sake of fucking formality. The last word 'formality' is significant.

Back at my hotel, I had literally nothing to prepare for the case. Sharif had not told anything about it, nor was Vihanta a boiling pot of political conspiracies. Watching some cricket highlights on TV while having dinner sure wasn't the most interesting way to spend the evening. I went down to the hotel bar after dinner keeping in mind the 10 AM appointment the next morning, but was up for another abrupt surprise.

"Aah. And I thought you were on a diet", said I, as I went and sat next to Vasu.

"Give me a break", she laughed, "did someone book the room in this hotel for you?"

"No, I did on my own.", I told.

"I see. Well, it's sure a small town isn't it?".

"Indeed. Just this and a couple of other good hotels. So, you're not on diet."

"I don't know. I don't really know if I'm.", she looked perplexed.

"Kinda same here. Why don't we take a bottle of JD, go up to my room?"

"Would have loved to. But got to go to work tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning? Come on, I won't last till morning"

She laughed as we got up to go. I told the waiter to bill the bottle and her dinner to my room.

"What's your name anyway?"

"I don't know yet. I don't get to christen myself unlike you. My superiors do."

"Poor you". I could already see the mischief in her eyes.

"What's for the hotel records?"

"This Neelanjan Chakraborthy".

"Oooh, the vicious Howrah connection".

I recollected this wasn't our first time. At all. We had worked together before on several cases. I must say she was as bossy on bed as she was outside. She apparently knew what she wanted out of it - sometimes pleasure, sometimes information. Nothing sexier than a smart lady high on JD, I thought. Except for revealing certain obvious information, which room I stayed for example, it was mostly just pleasure. She didn't seem to be on a 'spy-sex'.

As we lay down naked in each other's arms in the cold Vihanta drizzle after all the act, she did start her routine questioning.

"So, what are working on here?"

"You!".

"Very funny. Which case?"

"You know what's amusing? You seem to ask these questions so casually, like you believe I'll just tell you everything".

"Of course you'll.", said she with a wicked raunchy smile of hers, damn, that just invited me to put on a fresh round of condom.

"As a matter of fact", I answered after about twenty minutes or so, "I don't know yet. Just arrived today. This guy Sharif, SP at the city station has some stuff to be done." "Amanulla Sharif?", she woke up instantly and sat on the bed resting on its frame. Her naked body shone more glaringly than ever before even in the dim light of the night. "Yes. What about him?"

"Nothing. He's the same chap that recommended IB to send me here."

"Really?", I was startled. "So, are we going to be working on the same case?"

"I don't know. What time are you meeting him tomorrow?"

"Ten in the morning. And you?", I asked.

"Ten. Yes, me too. You seem to be right". After a brief pause as though contemplating something, she continued. "Well, let's not let him know we know each other. I'll go at ten. You make it a bit late, say half an hour late".

"As per your orders, ma'am", said I, as we hugged each other so tight it ignited our inner fire.