Due to a certain unfortunate incidents the owner of this Blog had taken an abrupt leave. In the meantime I a GERMAN girl from Lüneburg (part time CIA undercover agent) have taken over. My name is PIA. Yeah yeah I know what you all are thinking....there are zillion songs in India with that name but fyi its a Italian name too. So now you know my name and slowly and gradually you will get to know bit more of me and I will get to know a bit more about you all.
I landed in Kolkata just few days back on a private jet. I was picked up from the airport by a junior agent and he took me to this safe house in Southern Avenue. What little I got to see of Kolkata on my way from the airport- out of the tinted glass was lots of people and lots of lights. It seemed a tremedously busy city atleast compared to where I come from. I have seen busier cities in my life but this one felt different.
Tuk Tuks which you all call Auto here is like evil bumble bee. It swarms out of control and stings. Dodging bullets are more easier than dodging Tuk Tuks. The Porsche that I was almost got a scratch. Now the Porsche is not mine its owned by the agency but if my ass is in it then it becomes my headache.
The place where I was taken it was not so crowded and it had lots of trees near it. I checked the topography on my i phone (a model which is custom made for CIA and will never get launched) and it seemed interesting. But by default rather than enjoying the place I started checking out the escape options. Its my bad habit but believe me this habit saved me from a lot of tricky spots.
At the safe house I was greeted by this Bengali family. They family name is Basu. The old Mr Basu is a professional masseur and Mrs Basu is a housewife who is also world's best dry ice bullet maker the same type of bullets which killed Trotsky. As a matter of fact it Mrs Basu's mother who made that particular one bullet for that comi (at least that what we were taught at CIA school). They were very warm people and they offered such lovely hot food. Both the Basus are brilliant cook. After dinner I spent some leisure time and chated with Mr Basu about different types of Massage Oil. His knowledge of the 'Spots' amazed me. After he offered his services to me I politely told him 'may be later' and retired for the night.
I waited till I heard the Basus snore and then in the dark I opened my i pad (again custom built by Steve himself). Well I didn't come here for holiday, I was on an assignment. I was given a face and the url to this blog. I tracked all details that I could get from the blog and within two hours I found this blog's owner's name, address, account numbers ...everything. My mission was to find him and take him out. He seemed a easy target but the problem was that I had to make a very clean job. In and out with no witnesses. I chalked out a plan in my head and went to bed. The Basu cooking wonderful was not agreeing well with my stomach. No wonder in my brief it was mentioned 'BEWARE OF GAS'.
Ohhh damn it..... my superior is calling me. I have to report in. Will write more... the story has just started so stay hooked on to this I'LL BE BACK........
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| THATS ME WHEN I WAS IN CIA COLLEGE FRESHERS PARTY :D |
Tuk Tuks which you all call Auto here is like evil bumble bee. It swarms out of control and stings. Dodging bullets are more easier than dodging Tuk Tuks. The Porsche that I was almost got a scratch. Now the Porsche is not mine its owned by the agency but if my ass is in it then it becomes my headache.
The place where I was taken it was not so crowded and it had lots of trees near it. I checked the topography on my i phone (a model which is custom made for CIA and will never get launched) and it seemed interesting. But by default rather than enjoying the place I started checking out the escape options. Its my bad habit but believe me this habit saved me from a lot of tricky spots.
At the safe house I was greeted by this Bengali family. They family name is Basu. The old Mr Basu is a professional masseur and Mrs Basu is a housewife who is also world's best dry ice bullet maker the same type of bullets which killed Trotsky. As a matter of fact it Mrs Basu's mother who made that particular one bullet for that comi (at least that what we were taught at CIA school). They were very warm people and they offered such lovely hot food. Both the Basus are brilliant cook. After dinner I spent some leisure time and chated with Mr Basu about different types of Massage Oil. His knowledge of the 'Spots' amazed me. After he offered his services to me I politely told him 'may be later' and retired for the night.
I waited till I heard the Basus snore and then in the dark I opened my i pad (again custom built by Steve himself). Well I didn't come here for holiday, I was on an assignment. I was given a face and the url to this blog. I tracked all details that I could get from the blog and within two hours I found this blog's owner's name, address, account numbers ...everything. My mission was to find him and take him out. He seemed a easy target but the problem was that I had to make a very clean job. In and out with no witnesses. I chalked out a plan in my head and went to bed. The Basu cooking wonderful was not agreeing well with my stomach. No wonder in my brief it was mentioned 'BEWARE OF GAS'.
Ohhh damn it..... my superior is calling me. I have to report in. Will write more... the story has just started so stay hooked on to this I'LL BE BACK........
