The Great Game

June 2048. New Delhi, India.

"All you have to do is to give us a tiny scrap of flesh." The voice
over the phone hissed.
"But what the hell are you going to do with that?"
"That's none of your concern. And in any case, you are going to be
paid handsomely for that."
"How much?"
"Sixty thousand dollars, now I don't see any reason for
complaints."
There was a silence on the other side. The offer indeed, was
tempting.
"Hey, are you there, Doc."
"Yeah, I am. Whose flesh do you need? Considering your offer, it
obviously, seems to be one very important one."
"That's right. We are talking about the Prime Minister of your
country."
The Doctor on the other side got the shock of his life.
"That's impossible. You have lost your senses. It's not going to
happen."
"Listen Doctor Mitra. You are the personal physician of the PM. We
also are aware that he is to undergo a minor surgery next week and you
would be the one who will remain all along with him. Its not a big
thing to do."
"I'm sorry. I am not going to do that------ Doctor Mitra."
"Even if we raise the offer to one lakh dollars."
There was a pause. Doctor Mitra remained quiet.
"Two million dollars and the deal are final."
"I have not said anything, yet----- Doctor Mitra"
"Well Doc, you are no longer in a position to say anything. It's yes
from you or we will kill you by tomorrow morning."
"Is that a threat"--- a shivering Doctor said.
"No, that's a fact".
"I need time to think over that."
"Your time has run out, Doc. Say, yes or no."
"Yes". Doctor Mitra said, wiping his sweat from his forehead.
Seven days later.
Mumbai. The PM of India was successfully operated upon. In the high
security zone that the entire hospital was turned into, denied visitors
unless they belonged to the selective hospital staff or those cleared
by the personal staff of the PM.
A few hours later. Security was greatly relaxed. A man dressed as a
ward boy entered the hospital with a small bag. He headed straight to
Room No9. He knocked.
"Come in, Dr Mitra said, as if waiting expectantly.
The man entered the room. "Is the consignment ready?"
"Its here in he flask------ Dr Mitra."
"Give that to me------- the man said."
"First the money."
"I have it here."
The bag supposedly containing money and the flask exchanged
hands.
"This has to remain a secret forever. No one should know--- Dr
Mitra."
"Thanks, Doc. I am going to make sure that it remains a secret between
the two of us."
The man sprang suddenly and locked the doctor's neck with his arms. And
before he could scream, the man had clamped his mouth. An injection to
the Doctor on the neck, made him slump on the table in the next thirty
seconds.
The man, in the guise of a ward boy, left the hospital with flask in
his hands.
A good twenty minutes later, a nurse came knocking on the gate of Dr
Mitra. With no replies coming, she got in, saw him slumped. She felt
his pulse. He was dead.

April 2051. Seattle, United States.

"We need a copy."
"Whose?'
"He is an important one."
"You wouldn't have come to us otherwise."
"We need a copy of the prime minister of India. Do you have it?"
"I'll have to check."
The MD of Universal Biotech, went into his cabin, got onto his computer
and typed the information, he was looking for. The computer began to
search for the required information and in four minutes, flashed an
image of the PM on the screen.
He called the unidentified caller and told him-" we have him."
"I would like to have a look."
The caller was shown more than twenty photographs of a man who seemed
nearly thirty years younger than the Indian PM. Yet, the resemblance
was strikingly 'positive.'
"Its good but looks much younger."
"We generally clone an imminent personality the moment he/she shows
signs of becoming important in the global arena. Obviously, you would
find time lag between the clone and the real one."
" However, we could still make this man suitable with a little bit of
disguise, can't we?"
"Disguises are a risky proposal in this hi-tech world which demands
perfection. We though are in a position to give you a perfect
match."
A pause followed.
"How do you intend to do that?"
"We would first make him bald. Then we will sew him on his head, the
correct colour and texture of hair that exactly resembles the PM's hair
as of now. We would then match the clone's appearance with the aged
looks of the PM. We would starve him, expose his face to heat and steam
so that his face develops wrinkles. By controlling these wrinkles
through heat, starvation and use of plastic surgery, it would become
impossible for anybody to distinguish between the original and the
clone.
"Do you think that the clone would suffer so much without creating
trouble? What is that going to motivate him?"
"Fear and our complete control over him. He does not have learnt to
disobey us and he would do everything we ask him to do."
"Are you having clones of other important world leaders as
well."?
"We at Universal Biotech do have clones of many global leaders?. From
politics, business, science and so on."
"So these clones are really your prisoners."
"Well, we call them intellectual properties."
"I believe I am convinced. But tell me if he is sent on some
assignment, how come we be sure that he would be obeying our
orders?"
"After you confirm your order by paying the full and final amount,
this copy will undergo a severe mental alteration programme. He would
start feeling that he indeed is the PM of India. At the end of it, he
will agree to do whatever you want. And in case he dares to deviate,
there are several gadgets sewn inside his body whose remote control
will be with you. The use of remote will cause extreme distress ranging
from pain, to epileptic tremors to bleeding and he would be forced to
obey your dictates. If he still decides to disobey, there is a device
that can kill him."
"What if is he is uncooperative? I mean he fails to follow our command
and we are made to kill him?"
"In that scenario, you would get a second copy, free of cost."
"You do have second copy too-------- the caller was surprised."
"The kind of business and money involved in these projects are, makes
it necessary that we maintain at least two copies. There may be
accidents, death of a copy, suicide; if one tries to escape? there are
a lots of possibilities. We therefore do not take chances."
"What if one of them whom you consider important but fails to rise.
Like a promising politician whose career ends due to a scandal or a
natural death."
"We kill that clone. For keeping him alive could be dangerous."
"You are ruthless and clinical in your approach?. Even by your
standards."
"That depends on how you view the clone. For you, he is a human being,
for us, he is merely a product."
"Now how much it is going to cost?"
"Thirty million dollars. You will have to pay fifty percent in
advance."
"When do we get the delivery?"
"Within sixty days."
"You will get the first installment by the end of this week?. and one
more thing, this deal should remain confidential."
"We would not have been in the business if we were not
discreet."

August 2051.

The clone of the Indian PM was shipped to undisclosed location in
Europe. The men, who carried out the operation, took special precaution
to ensure that the clone was properly disguised and is not seen by
other persons. It was too risky for their mission.

February 2052. Gauhati, capital of the Indian state of Assam.

The motorcade of the PM was on the national highway on its way to meet
the victims of a major fire occurred at the oil refinery near the city.
The fire took place due to unknown reasons, leading to the death of
more than 100 people. While on the way, at a remote spot, road beneath
the cars exploded, possibly by remote control, killing the PM and all
his security personnel immediately.
Within a couple of minutes, three people pushed the clone of the PM
from his hiding place near the wreckage. The clone was injured and
bleeding profusely. The body of the dead PM was removed instantly and
clone was left lying in the wreckage.
The three men disappeared in the nearby jungles.

There was jubilation all around. It was touted as another 'victory
against terrorism' and the 'resilience of the Indian democracy.' PM had
survived with minor injuries.
Three hours and twenty minutes later, there was a phone call to the
Press Trust of India, Gauhati office. The caller identified himself as
a member of a well-known terrorist outfits and claimed responsibility
for the attack-The PM will not survive our next attack, the man shouted
and put down the phone. He was smiling.
The PM recovered soon. There was an emergency meeting of the Cabinet
Committee on Security (CCS) at the 7 Race Course Road, New Delhi. The
meeting was attended by the home, finance, defense and external affairs
Ministers, besides the National Security Advisor, Onkar Behl. The PM
briefed them about the attack and how 'he could not recall what
actually happened at the time of terrorist attack.'
The leaders from the other major parties came in for an emergency
meeting with the PM a couple of days after. The mood was grim and the
'doves' obviously were not ready for a 'showdown.' The PM addressed the
meeting-"for long we offered the peace option to our neighbours but
they have perceived it to be a sign of our weakness. They have gone to
such an extent of trying to kill the PM to destabilize the country. I
have said this before, but today I honestly feel that time has come for
action. We need to show them that they are no match for us and the
early they realize this, the better.
There were a couple of voices that spoke of restraint and utmost
caution. But the PM was angry and adamant. A forceful orator, he made
everybody fall in line and soon the entire political stream, cutting
across party lines, gave the PM to deal with the matter in the best
possible manner, as he deem fit.

December 2052.

Four of the frontline state-of-the-art Indian warplanes crossed the
line of control (LoC) and bombarded the terrorist camps across the
border. The neighbouring country panicked and retaliated with the
launch of a full-scale war across the Indian states of Punjab,
Rajasthan and Jammu &;amp; Kashmir.
14th December 2052.
An anonymous caller, claiming to be close to the intelligence circles,
made a phone call to The Times of India, New Delhi office. The caller
said that the enemy under retreat on most fronts and with tremendous
pressure and fear of losing the war, has decided to resort to the
'first strike option.'
The call created no surprises, as that was the official line being
maintained by the neighbouring country for years.
The news made it to the front page all over. Television channels
repeated the news throughout the day; Internet splashed the news the
world over.
There was a great deal of panic. Indian stock markets crashed, chaos
and confusion reigned supreme. People in the border towns and big
cities were under tremendous pressure, thinking that they are going to
be the first target of enemy retaliation.

The PM was huddled in a conference at the Operations Room, New Delhi.
Intelligence chiefs, and armed forces chiefs were making their
presentations to the PM.
"You say, you are not ruling out the possibility."
"Yes, but we do not have any evidence to substantiate that? I think, we
need a couple of days to make more accurate assessment."
"And in between our cities would be razed to the ground. We will not be
able to show our faces to anyone in his world."
There was a pin drop silence in the room.
"What are the options we do have--- one of the officers asked?"
"A preemptive attack on their nuclear installation would do, another
said."
"What? We could not be seen as aggressors. We would not be in a
position to face the world after resorting to the first strike
option?"
"And what we would do if they did the same to us beforehand?"
"It's a tough choice, but I believe we have to go for the first strike
option?. We cannot let this thing linger at this dangerous moment. We
have to do this--- PM said thoughtfully.
"But sir, I think we need to give our intelligence a little bit of time
to establish this firmly-the navy chief said.
"I too feel that using the nuclear option would destroy both of us and
surely there would be no winners. Not using the first option at least
ensures world support for us-the Joint Chiefs of Staff (CoS) General
Rodriguez said.
"General, I believe, you are talking out of context. It's a question of
our survival. And when the US destroyed the Japanese cities hundred
years ago, there was an outcry and that allowed US to emerge as the
undisputed superpower of the world?. The memory of the world is too
short to work on these 'trivial' matters-PM.
" I have decided. We are going to move ahead with the 'first strike
option'. I take full responsibility of the consequences?. PM
thundered.
" Though I disagree, I would follow your orders, Sir-General Rodriguez
said."
"That's what you should do General?. PM said."
Everybody came out of the room in silence and got into their
cars.
The Chief of Army staff (CoAS) talked to the CoS-"I don't think we are
moving in the right direction. But since the attack, the PM has been
very angry and perhaps his personal anger is being reflected in this
decision."
"But this could have been tackled diplomatically-Air Chief Marshal
Kohli said."
"Well, only history will judge whether we have been right in reacting
like this? CoS said."
1.36 a.m., 16th December 2052.

Four of the top IAF fighter jets carried out nuclear attacks on the
neighbouring country's capital. Another bomb was dropped on the biggest
city of the country and within hours, there was complete chaos and both
cities had been devasted completely.
The enemy still though had a few surprises up its sleeve. Nuclear
missiles had already been relocated to other safer places and within
twenty hours, six surface-to-surface missiles were sent over Amritsar,
New Delhi, Ahmedabad and Mumbai. Two of them were intercepted while the
remaining four dropped their warheads and brought complete destruction
of the cities.
The PMO was gutted completely. Although there were contingency plans to
send the PM in steel bunkers, he fed on the false information that the
enemy was not in a position to retaliate, refused to do so. The clone
in the guise of the PM of India, was trying to project a heroic image
at the bidding of the agency that controlled him.
He however, was unaware that his masters had 'other designs.'
With the death of the clone, all signs and evidences of a 'conspiracy'
obviously had been destroyed.

February 2053.

India used two more bombs while four more bombs contaminated Indian
soil before the enemy was completely roasted by India. Most of the
biggest industrial plants, oil refineries, R &;amp; D centers and
industrial clusters were finished. The other country moreover, was on
the verge of extinction. Indian economy, from being the world's third
largest, had gone back to one hundred years and was reduced to a third
world developing economy from being one of the top four powers of the
world within a span of two weeks.
Public and media criticized the wisdom of Indian PM, both within the
country and abroad. The military regime in the neighbouring country
denied that it had even considered of using the "first strike option.'
The ruling government in India dismissed the claim as 'yet another
gimmick.'
Who was right? Who was wrong? Nobody knew the truth but the people of
the two countries already had paid the price.

March 2053, Seattle, United States.

"India's destruction, I understand Sir. But why the other country was
made to pay. It was our ally, after all?." The young man asked his
senior.
"It was a pawn in chess game, an expendable pawn. We always had India
in mind. Its been growing economically, scientifically and militarily
and could have emerged as a serious challenger to our authority in the
years to come. With its inherent strength in human resources and
intellectual abilities, it would have very soon made its mark on a
global scale and we could not trust her to be our ally?. The senior pro
responded."
"So we sacrificed a smaller country to destroy India."
"You can put it that way and the world that is living in great illusion
would never come to know of the real story. As for us, it is our
occupation to thicken the web of illusion in which is ensnared all
humanity."

June 2063, Washington DC, United States.

"We need a copy." The man in the dark brown suit said quietly.
"Whose?" asked the MD of the Universal Biotech.
"Someone really very important."
"I realize, you wouldn't have come to us otherwise."
"We need a copy of the President of the US. Do you have him?"
"Of course, we do have. Can you afford him?"
"I would like to have a look."
The man was showed more that twenty photographs of the VIP. Though the
resemblance was striking, yet the man looked very young to the
president of the US.
"We will remove all the observable differences, the Chief said
confident ally.
"What's the price?"
"One trillion pounds. Non-negotiable and till the deal is worked out,
you will have to remain our guest."
"I though this was free business?."
"Not in case of the most powerful man in the world?."
"Fine, so it's a deal---- the man said.
"Yes, it's a deal?. The MD of the Universal Biotech said."

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