Bhagavad Gita: Searching In The Haystack

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Garrison, Morgan, Jubilee and Wanda finally get back together to discuss what they've learned.



Kane tossed his sunglasses on the table in the large tent, a section of the response camp set aside for the UN weapon inspectors and the FBI team. Duncan's real agents were working side by side with the UN inspectors, combing the local area and population for information.

His own team had been moving in and out of the area for days, chasing down individual contacts and leads, and finally just now all reaching back at the camp itself. Garrison dropped into one of the chairs and reached for a bottle of water, twisting off the cap and once again marveling in the madness around him.

The conservative estimate was that the final death toll, including current casualties and future diseases and cancers, could easily reach a million. This wasn't just a crime here, it was a world shattered for millions, and he was trying to wrap his mind around that. One by one, the three other mutants he'd pulled in to help appeared, finding seats at the table and showing the same lines of exhaustion that the long nights and endless days were causing.

"Glad that everyone made it back."

"Well, I contemplated getting shot, you know, for the experience. But it's so passe these days." Jubilee noted, a teasing light in her eyes despite the exhaustion.

Wanda shot Jubilee a look as she shoved her hair away from the back of her neck. She was looking run down and slightly sweaty as well but she was enjoying the cooler interior of the test. The bag she took with her on all her trips sat at her feet and she reached down to drag out her notes. "I would have been back sooner but my contacts kept me a little bit longer than I had anticipated," she said, leaning back in her chair.

Morgan was in the same borrowed body she'd left the States in. It probably wouldn't have been that hard to deal with in retrospect, but it had been easier to deal with some people as a man. Overall she counted it worth the effort. "I was trying not to get stabbed." She grinned and the look had that very male satisfaction of a fight in it.

"Just try not to get caught doing anything illegal with the FBI identities on you. Duncan's already stretched his career on the line for this." Kane said tiredly, leaning his elbows on the table. "So, what did you guys find out?"

***

Dr. Jane Watts had taken six hours to find, between a dodgy connection and upheavals in Afghanistan. But once she'd come on the line, she'd been a godsend to Garrison Kane. Saving someone's medical camp from being burned to the ground and all the people slaughtered at the hands of deluded mutant fundamentalists earned a lot of good will, and Kane was very happily trading on it to get her help in getting him some time with the person he needed: Burhanuddin Masood.

Masood had helped both him and the Russians against slaving elements, and once Adrienne had supplied a rough sketch of their suicide bomber, his strongly North Afghani features had set Kane's investigative processes in high gear. For all he might play the Hollywood throwback to the noble tribal elder, Masood was a canny leader and connected all over the country. He didn't know how Watts had convinced him to take the call, but he was glad that he did.

"Inspector Kane? I'm here with Burhanuddin Masood." Jane's no-nonsense voice came clear over the connection, a fact that Kane was grateful for.

"Elder Masood. I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me." Kane said, hearing Watt's translating for him.

"Inspector Kane. The doctor said it was a matter of some urgency."

"It is. You are aware of the situation in India?"

"An affront to Allah. Only fools seek the deaths of innocents in their mad jyhad. Srinager was not without followers of the True Faith."

"Elder Masood, I'm trying to trace back the group claiming responsibility. They call themselves the Sons of Bakr. According to the profile our people have on them, they've been responsible for attacks in Pakistan, Afghanistan and India, but at a very small level. I think the man who caused the explosion, the mutant, was from your region. Northern Afghani features, not like the other men in the video." Kane laid out his information. "Are the Sons of Bakr originally from Afghanistan?"

"Yes and no." There was a long silence, and finally Masood spoke again. "They claim to be a Pakistani offshoot of the Taliban, but in truth, their home madrasah is in Jalalabad, and the head of that school is a former student of Abdul Sabur Taraki."

"Taraki? The one involved with Markov?"

"Indeed. Taraki must have sympathized with their plans, and provided both a safe base of operations in Eastern Afghanistan, and spiritual support. Who's to say he didn't supply a few of his more promising gifted students to them as well?"

"Do they have any links with the Taliban?"

"No. Or at least, I would doubt anything significant. The Sons of Bakr follow a regional message, and calls for strict implementation of Islamic law. Even the Taliban would be considered too corrupt and weak for their means."

Kane made frantic notes. "Thank you, Elder Masood. This is a great help."

"Find them, Inspector Kane, and then force them to face trial under the laws of Islam. They will find no mercy from the Faithful or Allah for their crimes. Assalaam-o-alaikum."

***

It was a bar. Wanda paused outside of it so she could double check the address she'd scribbled down. It had been a stroke of luck that just a few weeks ago Kali Durga had seen something she'd published and had tracked her down. They'd been classmates, and shared a flat, back at Cambridge but had little contact after graduation.

Now here she was after getting in touch with him again, needing help. She hadn't...been expecting the bar, though. Shrugging, she opened the door and headed inside.

The bar's interior was a shocking contrast to the rather shabby outer shell. There was an almost audible hum of the computers, and the gigantic television screens glittered over the walls, surrounded by the enigmatic-looking electronic paraphernalia.

The clientèle paid the newcomer little attention as the men dressed in elegant suits mingled with heavily tattooed teenagers, the cacophony of Hindi, English, Urdu and myriad of other languages blanketing the bar.

Wanda blinked, slightly dazed, and looked around trying to find Kali in the anarchy of the hackers' hangout. She grinned absently. Doug is going to eat his heart out.

"HEY!" The shout from a girl covered in piercings and black leather startled Wanda into almost dropping her briefcase, since it was being screamed right into her ear - probably a necessity in this din. The girl was grinning at her, the pink Mohawk bobbing. "YOU MADE IT!"

Wanda stared for a moment, trying to take the woman she saw in front of her and mesh it with the man she used to know. "Well..." she said slowly, an amused smile curving her lips as she glanced downwards, "those are new."

Man, woman - it really didn't matter beyond the moment of shock. And Kali had probably been waiting for that moment of jaw dropping, anyway. Her former roommate had always had a wicked sense of humor, Wanda thought as they embraced.

"Follow me, " Kali shouted to her at a marginally lower volume than before and tagged Wanda by the sleeve, gesturing impatiently at one of the waiters to take her place behind the bar.

The two made their way through the throng, with a few detours as some of the customers grabbed at 'KD'as she was apparently known here to settle the ongoing disputes.

Eventually however the pair reached the office, in the back of the bar and Wanda sighed in slight relief as the closed door cut off the noise.

Kali plopped herself into the bedraggled chair behind the desk and grinned at her former roommate, the canines filed to points glinting in the light of the setting sun. "So, babygirl.... What's up?"

It was a more than a bit jarring - Kali had always talked about, potentially, going with the change but to see it...Wanda shook her head as she ran her hands through her hands. "I wish I could say this was a social call," she said, the apology heavy in her voice. They hadn't seen each other in years and she was bringing potential problems to Kali's door.

She dug through the controlled chaos in the briefcase before bringing out a handwritten stack of notes. "I think you can guess what brought me to town," she continued, "and you are the only person I really know in this area. Do you know anything about the Sons of Bakr?"

The last time they'd seen each other, Wanda was heading off to begin a lifetime of travel, research and writing papers. She realized that looking into this was probably the last thing any of her old friends would expect out of her.

The grin slid of KD's face, leaving a blank mask, the dark eyes suddenly shuttered and almost hostile. She stared at Wanda for a long second, before her hand snaked out with surprising speed, the bracelets slinking softly around the slim wrist, and punched the intercom button and barked a series of commands in Hindi.

Her stare never wavered from Wanda and she closed the circuit, she asked in a carefully neutral tone that made the question that much more jarring. "Did your father send you?" At that, Wanda's eyes narrowed into hard slits and they glittered in the dim light of the office. "As much as I have changed over the last decade," she responded, at once sounding cold and hurt, "I can assure you I have not fallen so far as to become my father's messenger girl."

She didn't look away as she continued, "I am trying to save lives, not end them or twist them around to my advantage. You have my word on that."

Kali did not reply, the slender fingers tapping softly against the desk as she waited with cobra-like patience for something. She perked up as the door to the office opened and a somber looking kid in ripped jeans and a vest walked in. " Scuse me."

Wanda blinked but did not otherwise react as he wove the electronic sweeper along the contours of her body and the briefcase before turning toward KD and shrugging. "She's clean. And Sati says there doesn’t seem to be anything weird outside. She's still walking the frequencies, though..."

KD nodded, relaxing slightly. "Thanks, Ranjit."

Both women waited until the youth closed the door behind himself and turned to look at each other. The pause stretched, almost becoming uncomfortable before Kali spoke again. "So. What's a Bulgarian anthro student doing snooping around mutant terrorism in India?"

"Like I said before," Wanda replied, rubbing the space inbetween her eyes, "trying to save lives. There are days I still wish I was elbow deep in some dusty old tome. I am hunting down a lead and these Sons of Bakr might be the key we are looking for." She frowned, taking in the operations around her. "You seem, ah, more involved than I was expecting, as well."

Kali bared the filed teeth in an almost-smile. "Nice dodge." She bounced out of the chair and pulled down a giant city map from under the table, the canvas splashed with red splotches - as if the city was bleeding. "Riots. Cops have gone into siege mode. Islamists have been torching Hindu temples. Times like these, we data-monkeys stick together - and dig. Information is power."

She stared at Wanda carefully, visibly considering her options. "You haven't really told me shit, have you babygirl? But I'm kind of stuck, so what the hell... Besides, data wants to be free." She slid back behind her desk, coming up with a small flash drive after a second's rooting around. The silver cylinder flashed as she threw it toward Wanda in a careless arch. "That's all my pretties found so far. It's not much. Just a couple of names, bank accounts... We are still looking. And don't kid yourself - as soon as we figure it out, we are taking it to the papers and TV."

Kali slumped suddenly, looking exhausted. "Be careful, all right W? People have been disappearing. There's badness all around this." She sighed. "And do drop by some day, not on business."

KD looked up and grinned wanly. "And trust me, next time I'll know exactly who you're working for."

***

Jubilee moved quickly out of the way of the Pedi-cab and crossed the street. She'd spent some time earlier reading up on the files she'd been given on the incident and now simply needed to do some nosing around using the contacts Remy had graced her with. She'd dressed casually for this, clothes that she could move about in fairly easily, although she'd always be somewhat visible here.

Checking the number, she matched it to the address from her memory and smiled. Looks like she'd managed to find it without getting hopelessly lost, afterall. Now she just had to make enough of a good show that she'd get the information she needed. Reaching up, she pushed open the door to the business and walked in with a confident gait.

The business in the small shop stopped as she stepped through the door, and was scrutinized carefully by the three men inside. Remy had been very clear on her role; he'd sent word along, and she was to act mostly as a courier of the information they found. He'd also impressed on her strongly that if she did anything stupid, or somehow tipped off to anyone that these men and this shop was anything but an importer of cheap electronics, they'd likely cut her throat and leave her to die in a gutter somewhere.

"Ah, young lady. From Suchow, yes? You must be Ang's cousin."

Jubilee stepped forward, moving further into the shop and held out her hand with a smile.

"That's right. The name's Yeng zu, Ang said you'd have the DVD player for me to pick up?"

"In the back. Ang said that you could get me iPods from your Chinese vendor at their cost. Is that true?" He stepped out from behind the counter and gestured her to the back. "I could use iPods. The taxes here make them too expensive for my customers, but from China, and no import taxes..."

"Hmm, it's possible." Jubilee replied, tone non-committal as she walked toward the back of the store, out of the eyes of the public. "How many would you be looking to buy?"

"How many are you able to provide?" He said jovially as they went through the door. The expression suddenly changed, and a gun was being pressed into Jubilee's side. "If you want to live, you can tell me where Yusef and I vacation."

The question was abrupt, but Remy had carefully schooled her. With many of the contacts, they used a series of coded phrases, as a mental one-time pad, in order to ensure that information was properly relayed. Counterintelligence would only be able to access the response if given to them by the other party, and even then only if they knew to ask for it.

The identifiers in the conversation out front; key words like Suchow and iPod had confirmed her identity initially. Now it was the final level.

"How was Sravanabelagola? I've heard it's a perfect time to visit the temples there this time of year." she replied, voice devoid of any quiver or emotion, her shoulders relaxed.

The pressure from the weapon relaxed and he slipped the gun back into his waistband. "Kumar Rayasahib. You can tell Gambit that my prices have just gone up. It's safer to juggle hand grenades than talk to the military right now."

"Is that something you really want to do?" Jubilee asked mildly. "I mean, you and I both know the guy, you think he's going to take kindly to being gouged like that?"

Trading on Gambit's reputation was probably slightly bolder then Remy would've liked her to be but she assumed just bowing under to a request for more money would be seen as a weakness anyhow. These things required negotiation most of the time, she just hoped she had read the guy right, if she hadn't, well, she figured she'd be dead long before Remy got a chance to kill her.

"I don't really care what Gambit thinks. If he wants information that is going to get me shot in the head, he can pay the price for it." Kumar reached into a desk and pulled out a data stick for her. "Two days before the bombing, a bribe was paid to a sentry unit on the border to allow a group of men to pass unmolested between over the border of Pakistan and into India. They did not get a look at the men, but there were at least five of them. That's all that I've been able to find out."

Jubilee pulled out a small portable data device from her inside coat pocket, being careful to go slow so Kumar didn't think she was going for a gun. She took the data stick from him and plugged it into the device, transferring the information before handing him the stick back. "I'll have the money wired into your account by the end of the day. Is there anything you can tell me about the ones doing the bribing? Did they ever meet with them, or have any identifying information on them at all?"

"Don't be stupid. These men were not fools." He ushered her back into the store front. "Fifty by the end of the month. If the price is good, double next month, and you get a nice little commission." He smiled and took up his seat again, the mercurial ability of a spy. It was almost impossible to think only a minute ago he'd had a gun on her. "My best to your cousin!" He said as she walked out the door.

***

They'd been at this for twenty minutes now and Morgan was ready to use the strong hands of her borrowed body to snap the fucker's neck, "There's not a bleeding codeword you tosser. Did Eamon look like a wee boy of eight last you saw him? No, he didn't so there's no fucking 'What's the secret word?' 'Your mum's knickers, teehee' and the bloody door opens."

He flinched slightly at the tone of the man he was dealing with, but the contact didn't appear too keen on giving in yet. He'd have felt more comfortable with a codeword. Without one this guy could have been anyone. Sure, he was told it was someone with a connection to Mág Ealga who should be trusted but he didn't know that since Eamon had failed to tell him anything about the person he was supposed to be meeting, only when and where to meet him. "How do I know you're not the one who was supposed to come but the one who killed the one who was supposed to come?" Morgan resisted the urge to growl and instead pulled out a mobile phone and hit a single button. "What are you doing," the man asked with obvious anxiety. Morgan only held up a hand for him to wait.

"Aye, Thom, where's Ea?"

From the other end of the line came a distinctly Irish, and surprisingly genuine, accent. "He's about. You've business with him?"

"Yeah."

"You one of ours?" He was fishing because he didn't know which name she was using.

"Aye, Ness." She never went by her birth name, not since Aleister had bought her from Madame, but it was the easiest way to identify herself. Vanessa would give her away in a male body and ask too many questions, but Ness could be short for anything from Vanessa to Nestor. And it was the only name that never changed.

She heard shouting on the other end until Eamon came on the line with a gruff, "Morgan?"

"Aye, mate. What's this contact of yours name?"

"Vinod?"

"Aye," she nodded and looked at the troublesome man. "Vinod?"

He looked genuinely surprised. "You know my name?"

"Yeah, I'm bloody psychic, you git." Morgan turned her attention back to the phone. "Can you give the wanker a fucking secret code word or summat? I'm wasting time I haven't to waste."

Eamon sighed. "I knew he'd be an idiot. We dealt with his boss last time we were around those part, Sendhil."

"Aye, where's Sendhil now?"

"Dead."

"Bollocks."

"I know." Morgan heard him groan on the other end. "Give him the phone, would you?"

"Aye, mate, cheers." Morgan held it out with a raised eyebrow to Vinod. The expression didn't translate as well on the face of the FBI agent. "It's for you. Go on, it's not going to explode." She wiggled it at him a bit until he took it.

The conversation was short. There was a few "Yeah"s and a number of "Yes, Sir"s and a lot of nodding with appropriately coinciding grunts. Then the phone was then held back out to Morgan. "Am I going to get cooperation now?"

"You should," came a slightly weary voice.

"Should?"

"If he doesn't cooperate," Eamon paused as he considered, "you can shoot him."

"Aye? Really? I can shoot him?" Vinod looked a lot less happy at her excitement over that. This guy was an informant, not a warrior. He traded information, dealt with a lot of mercenaries and hit men, but he wasn't a great fighter himself.

"Yeah, pet, you can shot him in the fucking balls. When're you coming back?"

"Don't know yet."

"You'll let us know?"

"Aye, 'course."

"Don't get dead."

"You either." The line went dead and she turned to glare at Vinod. "Well, my bossman says your bossman is dead, so who took over for Sendhil? I liked him, decent bloke, upfront about killing you in messy ways if you fucked up and the like." She held up a hand to stop him from actually telling her who had taken over. "So, in the name of Sendhil's memory here's how I'll do ya. You're going to tell me what I want to know. If you don't then my bossman, that'd be Eamon the bloke you just spoke to, says I can shoot you. Aye? So I don't feature you wanting to end in a messy way, aye mate?" There were three guns strapped to Morgan. Those were just the visible ones. "I'll start with your shoulders or elbows or hands if I'm feeling nice. And then I'll go to your knees and then I'll shoot your fucking bollocks off and send them home in a box with your ring finger," she nodded to his left hand, "to your wife. Aye?"

He nodded.

"Cheers!" Morgan broke out into a grin. The face she wore had this very self-satisfied look about it when he smiled. She liked that about the body. "So, now that you've wasted nearly a half hour of my time, I'd appreciate this getting over quickly. There was a merc job up here recent-like, yeah?"

He nodded.

"Who hired them?"

"Don't know."

"Don't know? How the fuck do you sodding not know? Who were people answering to in order to bid on the job?"

He shrugged. "It went through this guy. He died in the blast. Low level, just a flunky that worked for anyone. Word was there were another two people things went through before reaching the actual employer."

"Fucking lovely. Who took it on?"

"New crew. Israeli, ex-Army. All of them came onto the merc circuit within the past year, fresh from active."

So they did the job for cheap and probably didn't ask question. Just what she needed, morons. "They do anything of note before this?"

Vinod shook his head. "Not really. They'd been in combat a lot, but not really a lot of mercenary stuff. Just the standard. Most spent time somewhere or other in Africa."

"So what was the target?"

"A building."

Morgan pulled out a pistol and cocked it. "What bloody building, mate?"

Genuine fear was suddenly in Vinod's eyes. He didn't know who this guy was he was dealing with but he sure as hell looked like he was going to shoot him over this. He was really fucking fond of his balls, too. "I don't know! I swear! The specifics of it were only given to the crew. It was Pakistani."

Well that was something, so she pointed the pistol to the sky instead of at his knee where it'd been aimed a moment before. "What sort of hit? They take anything out? Blow the fucking thing up? Kill everyone inside?"

"They just hit it. Killed some people, probably. No one knows. They kept their mouths shut and they haven't been seen since. Nothing was reported, most just assumed they didn't do the job and split instead."

"So their gone?"

"Likely, yes."

That made her fucking cranky. She put the safety on and slid the pistol back into its holster. "Aye, thanks mate. Next time a little more cooperation up front, yeah?" Vinod shook his head emphatically. "Good. You find out anything you contact Ea, aye?" More nodding. Well, that was...mostly fucking useless, wasn't it?

***

Kane nodded as Morgan finished, and looked at the notes he'd jotted down in front of him. There was no doubt that this had a larger connection and support than just a group of fanatics. He needed to get the information to Emma, Leo, and Farouk as soon as possible. This was looking worse every moment.

"Thank you all. Let me get in touch with the others, and we'll figure out the next step."