The Linchpin

By Neeraj Ashok

'Every friendly interaction between India & Pakistan is followed by a terrorist attack on the former,' the thought reverberated in Kabir’s mind as two shots were fired at the Indian Prime Minister in an election rally in Amritsar.

An event which brings two neighboring countries on the brink of a war.

An event which drags Kabir into a web involving CIA, ISI, R&AW and local political vendetta by the PM’s biggest political adversary, Mrs. Tara Singhania.

Would the PM survive or would the history repeat itself, wherein the tenures of India’s most promising Prime Ministers have been cut short under mysterious circumstances?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Neeraj Ashok
• Release date: Nov 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370536122

Book preview

The Linchpin

By Aniil A Pamnani

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons and institutions, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

It is always good to have a list of people to thank for attaining a milestone in one’s life, but truly blessed are those who have a list so big it cannot possibly be penned down. It is to my extreme good fortune, I can proudly claim to be a part of that blessed category for this book. Heartfelt appreciation to all my friends, colleagues and even acquaintances in some cases for their invaluable feedback on this story and the editing inputs. For, without their support, I would not have had the confidence to finally take the plunge and share this story with the world.

Special thanks to my dear friend, Rahul Dudani, for a very creative and an insightful cover. Sincerely hoping, the cover and the story do justice to the great genre of political thrillers.

Prologue

You need to be present at the venue tomorrow and ensure the job is completed if others fail. Imtiaz instructed as soon as the man at the other end answered his phone.

I don’t understand. Why are we not calling it off considering the word has got out?

All I can tell you is the chief has asked you to be there and finish the job, if need be. Imtiaz responded.

Once you reach there, call in on the number I just sent you. Imtiaz added before disconnecting the line.

Chapter I

Yes, I just reached the venue. The package has not arrived yet, Kabir shouted into his phone, as the chanting around him turned deafening.

Well-built, but at 5’7 he was shorter than almost everyone in the crowd. Clean shaven with a perfectly cropped undercut, faded jeans and a light colored tee compared to the locals around him clearly suggested he was a tourist visiting the city.

Oza, Oza, Oza, the crowd went on without missing a beat, as Kabir made his way towards the front row in the VIP section while closely scanning everything around him. The venue, Bhagat Singh stadium teemed with 175,000 people, well over its official capacity of 150,000. Never before in the history of the city of Golden Temple had anyone seen such a huge turnout at successive political rallies. The election fever was at its zenith in the Sikh state of the country, as the Assembly elections had entered into the crucial third of five phases. Based on the early ground reports, if this phase also went in favor of the ruling Hindustan Prajatantra Dal (HPD), which was also the central government of the country, their victory would be all but certain.

This venue is a sniper’s paradise. Kabir said into his phone with a smirk as the noise from the chanting subsided in the front rows of the VIP section.

Exactly where you come into the picture. Keep me posted about your progress. Kabir’s handler instructed, before disconnecting the line.

This rally, like many others before, was to be addressed by HPD’s most charismatic leader and the current Prime Minister (PM) of the country, Mahendra Oza. As a result, the otherwise thriving and busy city streets wore a deserted look. Even the famous Golden Temple saw a lighter turn out of devotees as people rushed to catch a glimpse and hear their PM at the newly created cricket stadium, which was hosting a political rally even before it served its actual purpose of hosting an international cricket match.

The place is really good, and ideal for a rally hosting PM Oza. Kabir overheard an elderly couple seated next to him.

But it has been a nightmare for the security personnel. No one was allowed to even take a walk around here for the last one week. I am sure the security arrangements are impenetrable now. Kabir continued to listen attentively.

We will find out soon enough, Kabir thought to himself.

The excitement amongst the people at the venue, however, was unabated despite the strict security checks. They were eagerly waiting for the man of the hour.

Very punctual. Not bad for a ruling PM, Kabir thought to himself as the PM arrived at the stage to a thunderous welcome from all around. He was amongst a very rare set of politicians who could garner such a response from the Indian diaspora, who otherwise reserved their support and enthusiasm for cricket matches and movie-stars. Equally famous for his impeccable wardrobe and choice of attire for each occasion, he carried the half-sleeved shirt and a sleeveless jacket with an unmatched charisma. Subtly trimmed white beard topped with designer spectacles ushered in a fashion riot in the otherwise mundane wardrobes of Indian politicians.

As the applause subsided, the PM started his speech with his signature opening – Mitron….. which ignited yet another roaring acknowledgement from the crowd. After a brief pause, the PM started his address and went on covering the successes of his party’s government in the state so far and his plans for the future, once they win the current elections.

*****

400 kms away in the country’s capital city of New Delhi, beads of sweat formed on her forehead, even though she was dressed in a white cotton sari in her