Assassins (46 page)

*   *   *

Ravinder felt a jolt of pain as the metallic bulb of the microphone landed on his cheekbone, just short of his left ear. Blood spurted, a large dollop of it into his eye, half blinding him. The shock of the blow drove Ravinder back and down. That proved to be the saving grace.

*   *   *

Leon was now in a tearing hurry to drop Ravinder and make a run for it: aware he would have a fighting chance of escaping if he could get to the car park. There were enough people milling around and they would provide him the distraction he needed, as well as make it hard for Ravinder or any of the guards to open fire indiscriminately. He saw the gate guards had taken note of the scuffle. They seemed undecided between intervening and holding their positions. But Leon knew this was at best a temporary respite.

Driven by his desperate need to get away, Leon swung again with all his might. However, reeling from the first blow, Ravinder had been pushed backward and down. The second blow missed completely, its momentum throwing Leon off-balance.

Realizing he had missed the window of opportunity surprise had won for him, Leon cursed, swiveled, and ran. A few quick strides and he was across the road. A look over his shoulder and he saw Ravinder was rising; though one hand was pressed to his left cheek and he looked dazed. The need to keep Ravinder down a while longer mated with his desire to destroy him.

Leon threw the microphone at him, simultaneously reaching for the clicker in his left coat pocket, trying to arm it
and
at the same time trying to increase the distance between them.

But he was trying to do too many things at the same time; everything slowed down. To make it worse, the clicker snagged in his pocket.

*   *   *

Ravinder sensed more than saw the microphone fly at him. He could not make out what it was, but instinct made him drop the pistol and reach out with both hands to catch the incoming projectile and stop it from striking him.

Fired from hardly ten feet away, the heavy microphone came in fast, cartwheeling through the air. There was a meaty thwack as it slammed into the palm of Ravinder's hands. It was a catch that would have made the Indian team captain proud. It also caught one of Ravinder's fingers awkwardly, sending pain shooting through him.

*   *   *

Leon saw Ravinder catch the microphone and knew half his job was done. The microphone was now inches from Ravinder's face. Another few seconds and the man who had condemned him to this bloody life would be dead.

But the clicker was still caught in his coat pocket.

With a furious snarl, Leon tore it free. The pocket ripped out with it; the piece of cloth was trapped between the clicker buttons and his fingers.

*   *   *

Ravinder realized what it was the minute he caught it. The microphone he had found near Vishal's body leaped into his mind. He did not know the relationship between the two, but his instincts were screaming, warning him that the microphone did not just happen to be with Leon …
that the microphone was bad news
.

Without thinking, Ravinder flung it back in the same motion, straight at Leon, who had pulled something out of his coat pocket. Ravinder lunged forward.

*   *   *

Leon lost another vital second to toss off the torn pocket, flick the on switch of the presenter, and then depress the pointer button to arm it.

One, two, three …

Five seconds had never seemed so long to Leon before.

Five.

Finally.

His thumb fumbled to locate the slide-forward button on the clicker, to trigger the microphone.

Found it!

Leon was thumbing down the button when he saw Ravinder fling the microphone back at him. He managed to stop himself from triggering the sarin, but was unable to duck out of the flight path. The microphone hit him hard below the chin, smack on his Adam's apple.

The blow was hard enough to stagger him and left him winded. By time he recovered, Ravinder was upon him.

*   *   *

Ravinder closed in on Leon as he staggered back and lashed out with a flurry of savage blows. Only two connected properly, but both had been delivered with the pent-up fury of a man out to avenge his wife.

The first blow struck Leon on the side of his chin, almost knocking him out. The second landed a trifle higher, half on Leon's cheekbone and half on his eye.

“Got you! You filthy bastard.” Ravinder did not realize he was screaming.

Cursing that he had dropped his pistol, Ravinder raised his fists to strike again.

*   *   *

Leon, though now down on the ground, was still very much in the game. He was aware the game was tilting against him very fast. If he didn't break free, the gate guards would be upon him in no time. Rallying, he retaliated with a sharp, well-aimed kick.

*   *   *

Ravinder felt a sharp jab of pain as Leon's kick landed on his shin. Then a second one, a little higher, on his kneecap. The pain was pulverizing and this kick hard enough to fell him. Ravinder felt himself falling backward.

He spun sideways to try and break the fall.

That is when Leon's third strike landed. Another powerful kick, delivered with all the desperation and hatred swirling through Leon. It destroyed Ravinder's attempt to break his fall.

Ravinder fell badly, hitting the road hard. He was stunned by the impact.

*   *   *

Leon saw Ravinder go down, falling backward, away from him. Simultaneously he saw the guards at the gate rush forward, guns drawn, and realized he would not get away alive.

Not this time.

Leon was seething, that his hated enemy had bested him again. The desperate urge to get even energized him.

I will not go down alone.

Leon was beyond pain now. Anger and despair had coalesced into a confused, furious mass. His finger again located the trigger button on the clicker. Raising it high, with a final, scornful look, Leon triggered the Sarin.

*   *   *

Ravinder was trying to scramble up when he saw Leon's face twist into a smile that reeked of scorn and hatred. For a moment, Ravinder thought Leon was going to say something. Instead, raising the presentation clicker in his hand mockingly, like a champagne flute offered in disdainful toast, Leon pressed one of its buttons.

Unseen by either man, sarin exploded out of the microphone lying on the road between them. It fanned out in a deadly cloud.

*   *   *

Leon, three feet away, felt his lungs constrict. A gigantic wave of pain smashed at him. His lungs screamed as oxygen vanished. A tsunami of pain blanked out everything else.

*   *   *

Ravinder had fallen backward and thus was farther from the microphone, about seven feet away. He was almost out of the effective range of the gas. Almost.

He felt a wave of nausea and was suddenly short of oxygen. Pain began to numb his brain.

His last sight was of Leon's face contorted in agony.

Then a massive wall of pain slammed down on Ravinder's chest. And the lights went out, as though someone had turned off the mains.

 

EPILOGUE

 

 

 

Jasmine sensed Ravinder was conscious before she felt him stir. Before she could decide whether to ring for the nurse or reach for him, Ravinder's eyes flickered open. He checked her out. Satisfied she was okay, he took in the rest of the room.

“It's good to see you smiling, Princess.” He sounded scratchy.

“Is your throat hurting?” Delighted he was coherent, Jasmine grabbed his arm with both hands. She was beaming with relief.

“A bit”—he looked at his arm and smiled, a wicked smile—“but not as much as my arm.”

“Oh!” Releasing it with a start, Jasmine jumped up and rang for the nurse. “I'm so happy to see you up and about.” A cloud passed over her face. “They kept telling me…” She broke off, suddenly tearful.

“How long have I been unconscious?”

“Five days.” Tears were now welling up in her eyes, threatening to brim over. “Five
horrible
days, Dad.”

“Oh, well. That's behind us now.” Ravinder tried to sit up. Abandoned the attempt as a wave of nausea racked him. “I'll be fine soon.”

“Thank God,” Jasmine exclaimed, putting on her bravest face.

“What about Leon Binder?” Ravinder was unable to stem his curiosity any longer. “Did he…”

Jasmine shook her head, suddenly somber. “No. He is dead. I don't know the details, but…”

So I did not fail.

Ravinder felt a wave of relief swirl through him; suddenly everything seemed so much lighter and brighter.

The door opened and Mandeep hurried in, with a couple of nurses in tow.

Ravinder saw Jasmine suddenly perk up. She smoothed out her clothes and quickly hand-combed her hair. And she was smiling broadly. Her behavior seemed …
strange
 …

Ravinder had never seen Jasmine like this. He studied both of them as Mandeep and the nurse fussed over him, one checking the monitors and the other him.

“Your vital signs seem stable, sir,” Mandeep commented. “How're you feeling?”

“A bit queasy, but not too bad.” But Ravinder could not get his mind away from Jasmine.

“Dad, I can't tell you how helpful Dr. Mandeep has been the last few days.” Jasmine gave him a tender look, realized Ravinder was watching her, started and stuttered on, “He looked after you personally and kept my morale up.”

Realization kicked in. “Thank you very much, Doctor,” Ravinder murmured, feeling mischievous.

“You're very welcome, sir. You were really lucky.”

“What was it that put me down?”

“Sarin,” Edward Kingsley said from the door as Kurup and he entered. “God knows how the blighter managed to get hold of it.”

“It was a variant the Americans had tried to develop for tactical use,” Kurup added. “But all that is behind us now. You pulled it off, Ravinder, against all odds.”

“All a team effort.” But Ravinder flushed with pleasure.

“You're too modest.” Kurup pulled up a chair. “I really think you should consider coming to work for NIA full-time.”

“No way.” Jasmine leaped in like a tigress defending her cub. “Not today, not ever. You're so not going back to any kind of police work, Dad.”

She was so vehement that everyone laughed. Everyone except Mandeep.

“Not a good idea,” Mandeep elaborated solemnly. “Your nearly fatal exposure to sarin will have some permanent effects like nausea and headaches. They are liable to occur without warning and especially if you are stressed. Oh, and they can be severe. Whenever you feel them coming on, lie down and rest.”

“Seems like they have to put you out to pasture, old chap,” Kingsley chipped in with a grin.

“I don't know about that,” Mandeep rewarded him with a severe look, “but you will certainly be coming in for checkups every week till you're stable.”

“I will ensure he does.” Jasmine had the familiar, determined, Simran-like scowl. “To ensure that, I'm going to stay home and take care of you, Dad.”

“You're going to America to study, Princess.”

“I can do that next year, Dad. It's not as though they are shutting down law schools any time soon.”

“Unfortunately, no.” Ravinder grinned.

“Very funny.” But Jasmine looked delighted to see him smiling.

“But you will not put your studies on hold, hon. I can look after myself.”

“I agree with Mr. Gill. I think you should go. Not everyone gets admission to Duke University School of Law,” Mandeep added. “I promise to keep an eye on your dad.”

“Do you now?” Ravinder murmured.

“But of course, sir.”

“Yes. I have a feeling we will be seeing a lot more of you, Doc,” Ravinder said softly, but his gaze was riveted on Jasmine. “And I'm wondering how much of it will be professional,” he added with an impish smile.

Jasmine went bright pink as she caught his drift. Mandeep now got it, too. He suddenly found something noteworthy in the medical charts.

Neither Kurup nor Kingsley missed a thing; both spymasters were grinning.

Ravinder reached out and gave Jasmine's hand a squeeze. Their eyes met.

“He's nice,” Ravinder whispered.

Both smiled.

“I wish Mom were here,” Jasmine whispered back. “It would have been perfect.”

Ravinder knew Simran would have been delighted. He also realized how badly he was missing her.

But Simran has completed her life's journey.

Ravinder pushed away the pangs of melancholy threatening to overwhelm him.

“I cannot wait to get home, Princess.” Ravinder caught Jasmine's hand and smiled. He was incredibly sad Simran was gone. Yet he felt at peace after a very long time.

 

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