(Cont'd from Prey, Recommend you read it)
He was seated comfortably at the recliner, watching her intently. And the show that was unfurling.
"How the hell did this person get in?!" the supervisor yelled at her, pushing an unassuming looking person out of the gate.
She was caught unawares. She suddenly got back into attention, her eyes moving from the kid to her supervisor. Her fingers instinctively played behind her back. Which was more to do with her feminine response than that of a trained CAIF personnel.
"Sir, I was at that end, I didn't see..." she mumbled
"PRECISELY!!! You didn't see. You weren't paying attention and people walk in from the side gates, the ones which you are manning!!!" said the supervisor. His dark Moustache twitching as he stood to his full 6'3 heights, obviously enjoying the spot in which he had caught her napping.
" Sir magar,..." she switched to Hindi, hoping to get to a more emotive level.
" Do your work and stop dancing around!!!" said the supervisor, as he turned around and marched back into the security check area.
She looked down and waited for him to vanish. The only person who had the authority to pull her up for any misdemeanor was her reporting officer. She checked the revolver at her side, which was secured by a clasp that made it secure, no smarty could pull it out without her knowing. Of course, if she let the so said individual come up so close.
He smiled. He had seen one of the top security forces in the country so easily distracted. He thought it was a good moment to utilize.
At that very moment, she noticed him. He sat in the front row. He wore a prayer cap, wore spectacles which were probably a guise, and had a long flowing beard. He was dressed in a flowing white kurta over a dark blue jeans. He was reaching for something in black back pack, and was in the process of standing up. He had a nasty scowl on his face.
She had just been reprimanded on letting in non passengers into the waiting area. Maybe there were others, she had the right to check against a boarding pass.
"SIR!!! Can I see you ticket please", she called out.
No response. The man was still reaching for his Black bag.
"SIR, I need to see your boarding pass or ID, now please" She called out again as she moved towards him.
The man stood up, without looking at her, and his bag was now in front of him, one hand in the bag reaching for something.
"SIR, I NEED TO SEE YOUR PASS NOW" She raised her voice, now hardly 10 feet from him.
He looked up at her. His brow was sweaty, and his face showed panic, as he brought his bag with his arm inside it to a full stop right in front of him, almost taking aim.
Her instincts took over. In a flash, the clasp was off, the security lock released and the revolver in her hand pointed right at him, shouting out loud, "SIR STOP", The 'SIR' not leaving her manners even at this point.
The man panicked, the bag fell off his arm, exposing the black devise that was gleaming.
She Fired. It hit him right in the chest. The Second shot took hardly a second, and as he reeled back from impact, the bag fell from his arm. Blood spurted from the shot as he collapsed without a gasp.
His camera tumbled on to the floor. His Press ID hanging from the back of the camera, now covered in blood.
The next day, the headlines screamed the violent side of the CAIF, and how an innocent press reporter was shot in the airport for behaving suspiciously and trying to take unauthorized photos
M
He was seated comfortably at the recliner, watching her intently. And the show that was unfurling.
"How the hell did this person get in?!" the supervisor yelled at her, pushing an unassuming looking person out of the gate.
She was caught unawares. She suddenly got back into attention, her eyes moving from the kid to her supervisor. Her fingers instinctively played behind her back. Which was more to do with her feminine response than that of a trained CAIF personnel.
"Sir, I was at that end, I didn't see..." she mumbled
"PRECISELY!!! You didn't see. You weren't paying attention and people walk in from the side gates, the ones which you are manning!!!" said the supervisor. His dark Moustache twitching as he stood to his full 6'3 heights, obviously enjoying the spot in which he had caught her napping.
" Sir magar,..." she switched to Hindi, hoping to get to a more emotive level.
" Do your work and stop dancing around!!!" said the supervisor, as he turned around and marched back into the security check area.
She looked down and waited for him to vanish. The only person who had the authority to pull her up for any misdemeanor was her reporting officer. She checked the revolver at her side, which was secured by a clasp that made it secure, no smarty could pull it out without her knowing. Of course, if she let the so said individual come up so close.
He smiled. He had seen one of the top security forces in the country so easily distracted. He thought it was a good moment to utilize.
At that very moment, she noticed him. He sat in the front row. He wore a prayer cap, wore spectacles which were probably a guise, and had a long flowing beard. He was dressed in a flowing white kurta over a dark blue jeans. He was reaching for something in black back pack, and was in the process of standing up. He had a nasty scowl on his face.
She had just been reprimanded on letting in non passengers into the waiting area. Maybe there were others, she had the right to check against a boarding pass.
"SIR!!! Can I see you ticket please", she called out.
No response. The man was still reaching for his Black bag.
"SIR, I need to see your boarding pass or ID, now please" She called out again as she moved towards him.
The man stood up, without looking at her, and his bag was now in front of him, one hand in the bag reaching for something.
"SIR, I NEED TO SEE YOUR PASS NOW" She raised her voice, now hardly 10 feet from him.
He looked up at her. His brow was sweaty, and his face showed panic, as he brought his bag with his arm inside it to a full stop right in front of him, almost taking aim.
Her instincts took over. In a flash, the clasp was off, the security lock released and the revolver in her hand pointed right at him, shouting out loud, "SIR STOP", The 'SIR' not leaving her manners even at this point.
The man panicked, the bag fell off his arm, exposing the black devise that was gleaming.
She Fired. It hit him right in the chest. The Second shot took hardly a second, and as he reeled back from impact, the bag fell from his arm. Blood spurted from the shot as he collapsed without a gasp.
His camera tumbled on to the floor. His Press ID hanging from the back of the camera, now covered in blood.
The next day, the headlines screamed the violent side of the CAIF, and how an innocent press reporter was shot in the airport for behaving suspiciously and trying to take unauthorized photos
M