Brits Are Coming

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© 2013 . All rights reserved.

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Published by AuthorHouse 12/21/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-5127-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-5128-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-5129-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012923814

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Preface

1.  Reminiscing

2.  Amilee

3.  Off to Pakistan

4.  Ami’s First Job

5.  First Meeting With Azim

6.  One More in the Kitty

7.  Yet Another in the Net

8.  Back to More Work

9.  Taming Azim

10.  Ami, a National Leader Overnight

11.  Zarina Killed but Ami Survives

12.  Back to London

13.  Home, Sweet Home

14.  A Hindu Per Force

15.  One More Interview

16.  With Love Personified

17.  Yet Another Lover to Manoeuvre

18.  The Big Test

19.  By Hook or by Crook

20.  Finally with the Big Boss

21.  Good bye Azim

22.  Piramal Down, Bentley Flat, and Kung Up

23.  Ami Kidnapped

24.  A Lesson in Spiritualism

25.  Off to Iran

26.  New Project, New Experience

27.  Death of Amilee Alike

28.  Return of the British

29.  Ami Back In England Once More

30.  Hunt for the Lady Begins

31.  Niazi an Iranian Mole?

32.  At Last a Large Production Unit

33.  Her Past Catching Up at Last?

34.  Off to United States

35.  Raam Raj in the Offing?

36.  U235 Separation Unit Ready

37.  Off to Namibia

38.  Change of Heinous Plans

39.  Execution Plan Executed

40.  Bali Hai and Back to London

41.  Back to Namibia

42.  A Win-Win Situation for All

43.  Off to Turkmenistan

44.  Striking Gold

45.  Knocked Out Ten Years Later

PREFACE

However dark and ugly looking a cloud might be, it can be laden with moisture and give rise to long-awaited rain, gladdening the heart of many a farmer. Weapons of mass destruction can kill millions but at the same time be a deterrent and prevent wars, be that out of fear.

In the same way, while a computer virus can ruin the stored data, it can occupy a whole continent without firing a single shot. This is what I have imagined in this book. This is the proverbial silver lining of a dark cloud. Even an adversity can become an advantage if used properly.

This book is the result of freedom of imagination. A fiction writer has to fly in an uncharted area, like a bird flying even without flapping its wings while taking advantage of a rising stream of warm air.

Will someone someday find a way of streamlining the affairs of countries affected by crime, corruption, and bad governance by using such methods? Computers and many other gadgets have already made life so much simpler.

Surely there are several uncharted areas that the rising stream of warm air of human brilliance can make heavens descend on this earth and make life a great spiritual experience.

Ramesh A. Bakshi

1st December 2012

1

REMINISCING

W hy doesn’t anyone invent an anti-ageing medicine or even some way to reverse the process? She thought, realizing how futile it was even to think about it. Now she passed into a reverie.

My God! Where has that youthful, vivacious, and flexible figure I possessed all my life disappeared to? Where are those full breasts that the generals wanted to touch at any cost? Where is that beautiful face, without a blemish? Where is that spring in the walk that used to put even Olympic champions to shame? And most of all, where is that sparkle in the eyes that represented a unique driving force to achieve whatever I wanted?

She looked at her fifty-eight-year-old body in a large mirror. She did not have a stitch on her and was petrified at the sight of the ugly sagging breasts, the wrinkles showing on her face, and the paunch she had started developing around her waist. She was sad and lonely, but still the ghastly look in the mirror horrified her. She started wondering if all the knowledge and expertise that she had acquired with great effort would also someday disappear. That, she thought, would be a much greater blow than losing her youthful figure. She was trying her best to keep up with the latest developments by reading the latest publications on subjects of her liking.

2

AMILEE

S he was a nuclear scientist from the best British universities of the world and had acquired a PhD at the very young age of twenty-one. This old man called Time had very cruel ways of levelling every human being, irrespective of how good looking and strong and intelligent he or she had once been, throwing everyone from a high perch above ground to the ground below. Here was Ami, one-time queen of hearts of so many war generals and strongmen, unifier of all the countries on the Indian subcontinent, darling of millions in Namibia, and a nuclear scientist par excellence. She was named Jameni by her mother at birth, but that lovely name became Amilee, which soon was shortened to Ami. This was how she was now known in a small town in Kalahari desert, not too far from the capital city of Windhoek. She had no choice but to remain incognito if she wanted to survive in this world. She had a nice little house in a rather inconspicuous locality, a medium sized car, a home theatre, a small garden, and all the basic amenities one needed for a comfortable existence. All the same, a desert is a desert is a desert.

She was not very keen on mixing with neighbours, hardly going out except to nearby malls and drug stores when absolutely necessary. In many respects, she lived the life of a recluse. What a fall from the darling of millions to a persona non grata. Whenever destiny deals a blow for one’s past misdeeds, however a noble cause it might have been, it leaves one in a state of reminisce or self-pity. Ami hovered between these states. Ami’s father was a Pakistani Muslim, whilst her mother was an Indian Muslim. They had met in England when her mother had just joined as a student at London School of Economics. Her father was just about to finish at the same school. They fell in love the first time they met. She was young, brilliant, and vivacious, and he was a well-built, handsome young man. They were both devout Muslims. However, they had found ways of meeting secretly and even went out together to see famous sites of London. On the day of his graduation, she accompanied him for the ceremony. They had lunch together to celebrate the important landmark of his career. He then shyly suggested that they go to his room nearby to discuss future plans, gently reminding her that this could be their last meeting for some time. She became emotional and started weeping. He calmed her down, held her hand, and drove her to his room. They went on talking through the afternoon and late evening. He asked her to marry him, assuring her that he would wait until she too had graduated. When she replied in the affirmative, they embraced and kissed each other for the first time. He held her in his embrace for a long time, and in her naivety, no precautions were taken as the atmosphere intensified.

They met in his room every weekend, and one day she told him she was pregnant. He was secretly worried but told her he would meet her parents and ask for her hand in marriage. They got married that winter according to Muslim customs. Ami’s grandfather did not attend, as he did not accept the marriage among persons of different sects. Her grandmother’s strong nature overpowered her husband, who finally had to accept Abdul as his son-in-law. Ami’s mother gave birth to Ami without leaving her studies. Despite this, she obtained her degree with honours in Economics. They both worked in London, whilst Amilee’s grandmother looked after the baby. They had jobs that kept them very busy and they could hardly meet, mostly late in the evening. She soon became pregnant again, giving birth to a boy whom they named Rafiq.

They moved into a larger house in a better locality, now that they both had well-paid jobs. Amilee was now known as Ami, and was growing into a very pretty child. She was very brilliant for her age. She had long dark hair and a fair skin. She started to go to school and did extremely well in her studies. At the age of seven, she cleared fifth grade, and at the age of fourteen, she had completed her ‘O’ levels, standing at the top of her class. No one could believe it when she graduated in Physics at the age of sixteen and got her PhD in Nuclear Physics at the age of nineteen. Her thesis on ‘Industrial and Medical Applications of Gamma Rays’ created a sensation in the scientific world. In the meantime, her brother, who too was brilliant, got into medical school and started to work for his PhD. Ami was very proud of him.

Ami came in the limelight of the British media, and this attracted the attention of Lord Patterson, the Minister for External Affairs in the British Parliament. He called her to his chamber to have a talk with him, and she readily accepted the invitation. During their meeting, he surprised Ami by asking her, Ami, can you keep a secret? Are you prepared to sign an agreement of confidentiality, agreeing to keep all that transpires between you and any authorized government agent confidential? If so, please sign here on this document, with these two gentlemen as witnesses.

Ami was completely nonplussed and wondered what was to come next. She read the document and signed. Lord Patterson heaved a sigh of relief and said, Ami, we want you to work for the government in one of our intelligence departments, a job which, in common parlance is known as spying. We have investigated your background thoroughly and come to the conclusion that you are the right person for the job we have in mind. Mind you, it will be full of risks and thrills. You will be trained for two years. That will include training in use of arms, in communication skills, and in handling of extremely difficult situations. Whilst you will be in a men’s world most of the time, you will also use your knowledge of nuclear physics and computer science. Some of the world’s best brains will interact with you and impart advanced training in these subjects. Are you ready, Ami? Do you need time to think it over? Of course you cannot discuss this with anybody and take their advice.

I am ready, sir, and I feel honoured to get this opportunity to serve my country, she said immediately, without giving much thought to what was going to be her future. That was typical of her. She was always game for any adventure, and this was right in her lane. She had no idea of what awaited her.

Lord Patterson had an imposing personality, and at the age of fifty-five years, looked young and fit for his age. He instructed Ami, Ami, go and tell your parents that you have got a job with a firm supplying information and designs for nuclear power plants all over the world. Tell them you may be located in any foreign country and may not be able to come home for a long time. Tell them that this could be a confidential placement and that you may not be able to contact them often. Finally, we need to ensure that you are not violating any condition of the document that you have just signed. Therefore, we have asked Mrs Zimmermann to fit a tiny transmitter in a pendant that will allow us to monitor your conversation from anywhere in the world at any time we want. We use a special spy satellite for this purpose. We might take this off when we next meet, just before the start of your training programme. Please note that it is waterproof and you may take a bath or even swim with it.

Mrs Zimmermann asked her to remove all her clothes and remarked how pretty she was. She removed all her own clothes too, which Ami thought was meant to make her feel less shy. Miss Zimmermann was distinctly ugly and looked like a sour woman who had become very plump by sitting on her fat bottom all her working life. Now she started running her hands all over Ami’s body inappropriately. Ami shrank and shivered like a butterfly that had just come out of its cocoon. She took Ami in her vast expanse and kissed her all over the body. Ami objected to her lesbian advances rather violently, using her skills as an athlete and trained karate black belt.

Mrs Zimmermann responded in an efficient manner. Oh, I am sorry. I thought you were an experienced lesbian too. Ami, please do not misunderstand me. This was a part of your training. Just now that was a female who did this to you, but in your career as a spy, there will be generals and prime ministers fondling you. For extracting vital information or for getting favours for the country, you may have to play their game.

She put on her clothes and gave Ami the pendant, turned it on, and tested it. She recorded all her biometric data and got her examined by a doctor, who opined that she was still a virgin. She dressed her in a bikini and photographed her from different angles.

Throughout this experience, Ami was very shy and Mrs Zimmermann constantly reminded her of how important her job was going to be for the British Empire. When the session was drawing to a close, she said, Ami, I will be your mentor throughout your training period and maybe even later. You have now to go to Lord Patterson. He is waiting for you and will initiate you in the first lesson of your training. He will then hand you over to the person in charge of the training. Put on this robe, go down to the garage, and enter a waiting vehicle. You will be driven to proper place.

She winked at her whilst wishing her good luck, and a totally confused Ami, not knowing what awaited her, was led to a waiting vehicle closed from all sides. She was led into a room with a large bed. Lord Patterson was dressed in a bright nightgown and reclining in a chair. He had a large cigar in his mouth and was sipping beer from a large beer mug.

Ami, you are starting your training right now. Are you scared? he asked.

No, sir. I am ready for the first lesson, she said a little nervously.

Look, Ami, Mrs Zimmermann — in fact, Dr Zimmermann — tells me that even at the age of nineteen, you are still a virgin. Is that right? he asked unabashedly.

Yes, sir, I belong to a devout Muslim family and we keep ourselves away from men until the first wedding night. Our men are proud to marry a virgin. Whilst this condition is imposed on us, they could well have cohabitated with many women before marriage. Our religion allows them to have a maximum of four wives at a time, she said.

Oh! How wonderful! I wish I were a Muslim. Of course I am joking. I have read a lot about your great religion, and perhaps you are not being fair in your comments. Now let me come to the point. In the service of the Empire, you have to lose your virginity right now, and I would help you do that most politely and carefully. Are you ready?

Even he himself was a bit amused when he said that. Ami was quiet for some time, all the time fidgeting with her robe. Here we go. Men are men irrespective of their religion or age. They will always find an excuse to have fun with women, she mumbled. If that is needed in the service of my country, I shall have to agree, my lord, she said. And the good lord wasted no time in disrobing himself and Ami, who kept watching his massive expanse. She wondered if he was radioactive and spewing out gamma radiation. Dr Zimmermann now entered from another door and examined her.

What a horrendous bitch and pimp this Zimmermann is, she mumbled. The lord came to his senses suddenly, as he had not noticed the doctor’s entry, putting on his clothes rapidly as the doctor took away the lady. Tears were running down Ami’s cheeks. She had the feeling of having been robbed.

Next, she was introduced to her trainer. He was a man of robust build and quite athletic looking. Obviously he was very fit and agile. She was certain the man would give demonstration of his sexual prowess several times during the training under one excuse or the other, which he did. She was trained in use of different types of arms and making and handling explosive devices. Soon she became an expert karate fighter and knew exactly where to hit so that the victim became unconscious or was even killed. She was trained to run forty kilometres at a stretch if needed. This improved her lung capacity. She was trained to be an expert swimmer. She was a changed person after six months’ training under this man.

She was now sent to an expert beautician who was also a plastic surgeon. She filled her up with silicon fluid in right places, and then she trimmed her hair, giving her the look of a young girl, that everyone would like to ogle. She was taught how to dress under different situations.

Next came the communication experts, who taught her the art of saying sweet nothings at the dinner table. They made her read books on communism, capitalism, world history, geography, and different cultures and religions of the world. At the end of it all, she was an accomplished conversationalist. They deputed language teachers to teach her Urdu, Arabic, and Hindi. She wondered why she had to learn those languages.

Now came the last part of her training. She was introduced to a group of three lovely ladies who were to teach her to be a cupid par excellence. The main stress was on enticing men to part with military secrets. This was an extremely tricky business, but these ladies were past masters in the art. They taught her how to extract information by art of conversation more than by offering her physical assets. Whilst they demonstrated the art of lovemaking, they stressed that physical assets were only the final weapon in her armoury and to be used very sparingly and discretely. If she was not careful, men would use her but give away nothing.

Finally, Lord Patterson summoned her. He was stunned by her new looks and wanted to ravish her one more time but resisted the temptation. In a businesslike manner, he handed her over a passport proving her Pakistani nationality, explained where she was to live and what her ‘cover’ in Islamabad was. Her new name was Zarina, and her surname was Khan, which was the most common surname there. Two ladies entered with a burqa and dressed her up as a perfect Muslim lady. They made her aware of common customs followed in Islamabad area. She was handed over a one-way ticket to Islamabad for departure exactly a month later. She spent one month with a staunch Muslim family, who taught her various customs followed in the Muslim world. Three days before departure, she was told that her job was to make her way to the top generals and ministers and get to know about the programme to manufacture and use the nation’s nuclear arsenal. She was made aware of the identity of three contact persons, all females, who were to be used for passing on the information and the passwords to be used to ascertain their identity. She was asked to rely totally on her memory and nothing was to be written down.

3

OFF TO PAKISTAN

F inally, the day of departure dawned, and she boarded an early morning flight to Islamabad by Pakistan International Airways. She was apprehensive about what was in store for her future in a country she had never visited before. For that matter, she had never visited any country other than