“What reaction do you expect from this act... of assassination?” Borg questioned, knowing that such a plan was always an alternate solution, but never implemented. In fact, Borg gets a weekly report on the activities of Pakistan army and intelligence wings from his own implants. He was always liberal with such small investments. When they pay off, returns are manifold and massive.

Pasha looked at the wall before him. In a monotonous tone he started explaining. “We expect the killing of opposition leader will trouble the Government. If they cannot protect opposition leaders, how can they protect the nation? If they could protect but choose not to, then it means a conspiracy on the part of Government. As they are a practising democracy, one unstable Government goes and a new one comes in. We repeat our act again,” Pasha was enjoying the talk, which he knew was utter nonsense. The more he irritates the sponsor, the sooner he would be informed of new designs.

Borg looked at the others. Switching off the microphone, he commented, “Without external brains and support, the Pakis can never stand up against India. All they want is to take out knives and go to Delhi and kill everyone like Prince of Persia,” he sighed. “I am tired of listening to the same parroted lines from medieval age stories.”

He enquired of Sami, who was playing with his robes, “Was Arabian Nights a medieval age story?”

Without lifting his head the Arab replied, “Borg! Please continue your discussion with that fellow. I need to return to my Oasis.”

Borg spoke into the microphone. “If there is a better plan, are you ready to adopt it?” he questioned Pasha. On hearing no response, he flicked the microphone on and repeated the question.

“Why not?” came an immediate reply.

“Plans may be available. What is needed is conviction to execute them precisely. There are some schemes that may cause irreversible changes to the geography and polity. But, they demand capabilities of high precision and calibre so that the desired consequences are accomplished. My point is—Do you have a team that can execute such a plan—Or you suggest I send a team of my own?”

After a long pause, Pasha responded cautiously, “It is not a matter of the team’s capability. It is about selecting a team for the scheme being considered. If I know the details, only then, I can talk about the team and executing precision.”

Jules Borg closed his eyes. He spoke slowly. “Ashraf, listen carefully. I want you to get hold of a nuclear explosive and arrange to detonate it under the Himalayas. India will lose its natural protection from cold northern winds. It affects the country permanently.” He paused and opened his eyes to see reactions from his associates. Chowchow was sleeping and thus void of any reaction. Ramirez, without moving a muscle, glanced at Borg questioningly.

Sami was shuffling in the cushion. He was shocked at the brazenness of the plot. He never expected someone could be capable of such a brutal idea that changes the geography of the planet. Yes! It is not about the mountains or about one country. It is not that he is biased for or against any country, India in particular. As a regular person of so many evil plans being made by various factions of divisive forces, including some of the world’s most notorious groups, he witnessed several plots that resulted in devastating large sections of many cities or countries. But, this is for the first time he heard such a crazy plan, albeit no details were so far discussed. Irritated, he shook Chowchow and woke him up. Yawning, the Chinese looked at him questioningly to know the reason why he was disturbed.

Pasha, in the other room, was stiff like a wet log. He was staring into space without blinking.

Impressed by the reactions to his words, with a smile on his face, Borg continued, “Pasha? Are you OK?”

“Yes, Sir,” Pasha struggled to regain composure. This time, he took the bottle and drank a mouthful to get rid of the dryness in his throat. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A few seconds later, he opened his eyes, leaned forward, and implored Jules Borg to reveal the details.

“Plan is simple. All you need to do is—get hold of a nuclear device and blast it at the base,” he waited again for a moment before continuing further, “Get in touch with Qadar and enquire. He knows of many sources from where you could get one. In fact, this is the easiest part of the job. You need to find an intelligent guy—probably a nuclear scientist with fanatic leanings—to volunteer to detonate the bomb. This is the difficult part. Getting people to die for a cause is not a problem. Such people are dime a dozen. But, getting a scientist or engineer means your catchment area is small.”

Pasha listened and deliberated to himself. After a while, he asked about where the detonation should take place. “That, you need to scout and find out. I can, however, suggest a broad location. It would be inside Afghanistan, close to the border of Pakistan.”

“What?” Pasha sat upright. “Which country were you talking about razing? I thought I heard you saying it was India. But it seems you were planning to decimate Pakistan, my own country.”

Borg laughed loudly, “Pasha, My dear! Do you really think you are a Pakistani? I thought your family migrated from ... Bihar? Anyway, you were born Pakistani. But, you have simply responded to my suggestion, without scrutinising it technically. Do you think I have not evaluated the consequences? If the centre of the earthquake is in the northwest of India, Pakistan would get more protection from the new mountain ranges that emerge on such an event. And losses of lives are at minimum as the northwest of Pakistan is sparsely populated. It is a fact, nobody loves the Afghans; so no need to worry about their lives. I got this scheme studied and analysed by a team of geologists. In fact, a new river would flow parallel to Indus through the west lands of Pakistan and another one will flow into Afghanistan, towards the northwest. The lands are going to be fertile and the new generation will be growing food in abundance, as the magma changes the constitution of the soil, improving it. Other lands will be enriched with minerals and industry can grow. I expect you to thank me for this.”

The long explanation, though not fully understood by Pasha, had its effect, and Pasha thanked Jules immediately for improving the conditions of his country while destroying the enemy.

Before Pasha could reply, one unseen door opened at a corner and a small Indian lady dressed from head to toe in white entered, pushing a trolley filled with refreshments. The hot and sweet aroma escaping from the closed bowls reminded him about the primitive needs of his body, and the lady is also stunning—at least capable of making him forget Jules Borg and his team, apart from the manmade earthquakes.

Seeing the obvious, Borg advised him over phone to eat something before further discussion. Borg was watching Pasha ravaging the dishes heavily supplemented by the wine. After nearly a quarter of an hour, Pasha finished with the trolley and it resembled a battlefield post war. Sami sensed the satisfaction of the heavy meals from the sleepy eyes of Pasha.

Once the waitress left with the trolley, Borg continued, “Pasha, I suggest you meet Mr Qadar and talk about getting the weapon. Go for a trek and look for a suitable location for the blast. Get hold of an educated jihadist to execute the job. Spread the word in the groups that you are setting up a research facility by jihadists. You’ll get a lot of references and resumes. It is like any other recruitment. Budget is not a problem. Be in touch with me, and you have to file weekly updates, without fail.”

He continued, “And remember—this is your ticket for any and all the things you want. I hope you all won’t disappoint us. Good Luck!”

Thus, the meeting was over.

                                                             * * * * *