more than he had ever imagined, and more than most people would ever bother doing, in terms of sticking his neck out to help others. And what had he got in return? A tattered reputation, being ambushed and left for dead by those who were supposed to be upholding the law, and being courted to use his services to rig elections. That was a world he could do without. As for Arif, perhaps there was a terror attack being planned. Perhaps it would indeed happen soon. But so what? There was no real concrete information to act upon, and it wasn't as if another terror attack would be the end of the world, was it? Hardly a day went by nowadays without a bomb blast or attack somewhere and if the government and police were helpless to prevent them, one man's chasing a mirage of another supposed attack wouldn't make much of a difference, would it?
By the time he returned home, Arnab had more or less made up his mind to call Khan and tell him that he wanted nothing more to do with this affair. He had respected Khan's request to go and meet Arif, and hadn't Khan himself told him that he could back out if he wanted? Arnab was both surprised and pleased to see Khan waiting for him outside his apartment.
'Khan chacha, I was just thinking of calling you. How long have you been waiting? Why didn't you just call me?'
Khan had a sombre expression on his face.
'Arnab, its something I felt we should talk in person. I wanted to ask if you would come with me.'
Arnab had no idea what Khan was talking about and asked what he meant.
'To meet Arif.'
Khan said it casually, but those three words threw all of Arnab's plans into a tizzy.
'Khan chacha, I was planning to tell you that I didn't want to pursue this any more.'
Khan smiled, but his eyes were sad, as he answered.
'Arnab, I thought that was a possibility. That's why I came to check if you would accompany me. I am going to meet him now. He called and said he wants to meet urgently.'
Arnab was taken totally aback by Khan's plan.
'Khan chacha, why are you getting involved in this? What can you possibly do? This could get very dangerous. Please don't…'
Khan cut off Arnab's objections.
'Arnab, I can't sit back when I know I could help stop innocent people from getting killed. I am an ordinary man, and can't do much by myself, but if I find out enough information, I could pass it on to the police.'
With those words, Khan left Arnab standing speechless at his apartment door. Arnab opened the door and walked in; trying to convince himself that he had done the right thing. He changed his clothes and turned the television on, trying to distract himself. He sat listlessly for more than an hour, but soon realized that he could not do this. No matter what problems he had had to face, no matter how betrayed he had felt, nothing could justify his allowing Khan to walk into harm's way. He had no idea what Arif wanted, but he knew the old man could be totally bull-headed and would not back down. That left Arnab with only one possible course of action.
Khan was about to enter Arif's room when he felt a gust of wind blow past him. When he turned around, he staggered back in surprise as he saw Arnab, wearing his sweatshirt, with the hood covering his face. Khan smiled broadly.
'Next time, I'll ask you to carry me instead of taking the bus. So you decided finally to come here to meet Arif?'
'No Khan chacha, I came here for you. Let's see what Arif has to say.'
They found Arif sitting with a suitcase and a backpack at his feet.
'Going anywhere, Arif?'
By way of reply to Arnab's question, Arif got up and walked towards them. Arnab was shocked to see how much the man had changed in the few days since he had last seen him. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, and he looked visibly weak, as if he had not eaten properly for some time.
'They know that I escaped, and will come for me. I'm getting out so that I can at least ensure that Rashid and his family don't get caught in the middle.'
'Where will you go?'
Arif shrugged.
'I don't know, but what's important is that I don't have much time. I got in touch with my friend, and he told me that if we want any useful information, I need to get the money within seven days. After that, the operation may go into execution phase, and it may be too late to do anything. If you want, please contact me at this number.'
He handed the slip of paper to Arnab, who had made up his mind not to get involved, and was flinching at the repeated demand for money.
'Look Arif, there's a bloody bomb blast every other day. What's so bloody special about this that anyone would want to pay ten million to know more?'
Arif came even closer, and seeing the haunted expression in his eyes made Arnab unconsciously take a step back. Arif was terrified of something, and looked like a man on the verge of losing his sanity.
'I would have thought the same, but I did learn something about this operation.'
'It better be something good to have dragged us here. Look, I don't honestly care if your Afghan friends kill you, but I do hope you can do some good to redeem yourself.' Khan spoke for the first time since he had entered the room.
'I learned the code name of this operation.'
Both Arnab and Khan rolled their eyes, figuring they were in for some useless information as Arif continued.
'It's called Operation 5HT.'
Khan snapped at Arif, 'That's what you have for us? Do we care if it's called Operation Batman or Operation Underwear? How the hell does that help us?'
Arif continued in an even tone.
'It stands for Five Hundred Thousand.'
Both Arnab and Khan looked at him blankly as Arif continued, this time his voice trembling a little.
'That stands for the number of casualties they aim to cause in the attack.'
***
That night, Arnab tossed and turned in his bed before falling into an uneasy slumber. He kept trying to convince himself that he still could walk away, that he could just get on with his life as he had planned. After all, there was no reason to take what Arif had said at face value, was there? What if what he was mistaken? What if the code name for the operation was just bluff and bluster, and in reality turned out to be yet another ordinary bomb attack? As he lay half asleep on his bed, he stopped himself with a thought.
Since when had be become so self-centred and callous that he could consider an attack that would kill even one innocent person 'ordinary' and not worth stopping?
When he did finally fall asleep, he found himself in a strange dream. He was in a car, being driven somewhere, and for some reason he was desperately trying to call Mishti on his cellphone. No matter how many times he tried, he just couldn't get through. When he did finally get through, he was telling her that he would get there as soon as he could, that she shouldn't worry, but she sounded terrified. She was in some sort of danger, though he couldn't later remember what it was. All he did remember was that he was trying his best to get to her, but unable to do much except scream out his impotent rage as he realized that he would never be able to get to her in time. He woke up covered in sweat, his heart beating so fast it felt like it would burst. When he checked the clock, he saw that it was just three in the morning, but no matter how many times he tried to go back to sleep, he found he could not. As he lay there, he began to realize what his dream was trying to tell him. It had told him just what a frightening and overwhelming thought it was to have even one person he knew and cared about in danger. If he were in a position to do something about an attack that could threaten hundreds or even thousands of innocent people, would he ever be able to live with his conscience knowing he could have done something to stop it but had chosen to walk away? Could he deal with endless nights of dreams of the sort he had just endured?
When Arnab got up in the morning and looked at himself in the mirror, he saw no hero, just a scared young man who was being forced into a course of action that he would rather have avoided. He closed his eyes, and was surprised to find them filling with tears. As he stilled his mind, he thought back to the incident on the bus where it had all begun. He didn't really have a choice to make now. He had made his choice that day so many months ago-
