BLOWBACK (20 page)

Two unexploded bombs have been discovered at…
the headlines screamed. Simultaneously the news anchor’s demeanour changed and he began to talk even more animatedly. Almost immediately, the shell-shocked sports commentator was banished to the sidelines.

Unexploded?
Asif’s face changed hues when the contents of the news ticker hit him. He turned to glare at Imtiaz, who was also watching the screen, confusion and bewilderment written all over his face.

Just then the train arrived on the platform and people began to scramble on board.

Another unexploded bomb has been discovered at… Just moments earlier, an email was received by various government officers and media channels, warning of a strike. The email was sent by the same group that had…

By now Asif’s face was tight with anger. Turning away with a final, disgusted look at the television, he strode into the crowd that was still fighting to board the train and began to push his way through, unmindful of the dirty looks and curses that were flung his way. Iqbal followed suit, relief fluttering inside him.

Even though their berths were in the compartment closest to where they had been standing on the platform, it took them a good five minutes to fight their way through. From their seats inside, they could still see the television screen. By the time the train pulled out of the station, all but three of the bombs had been discovered by the police. The news of this latest terror attempt had spread fast and heated discussions had broken out all around them. By now dozens of security personnel could be seen scouring the platform.

Unaware that the exercise was cosmetic and orchestrated solely for their benefit, Asif immediately moved to the upper berth that had been reserved for him. Stretching out, he covered his face with his arms, as though warding off the light, and pretended to be asleep. Iqbal happily did the same, thankful for the opportunity to be alone with his thoughts. He was, in any case, having a hard time controlling the exhilaration that filled him.

Poor Imtiaz!
Iqbal almost laughed out loud.
Asif is going to give him hell!

SIXTEEN

By the time they reached Pune, Asif’s simmering anger was waiting to explode. He turned on Imtiaz the moment they entered the hostel room.

‘What the fuck happened? Why didn’t they go off?’

‘I have no idea, Asif bhai.’ Imtiaz quailed before his fury. ‘I just…’

‘Are you sure you assembled them correctly?’

‘Of course!’ Imtiaz said indignantly. ‘I could have made a mistake with one or two of them, but not all of them. That’s not possible. It must have been some fault in the…’

‘What?’ Asif was almost shouting now. ‘What could have been faulty?’

‘Well, either the detonators or the ICs must have been faulty. There was nothing else that could have… I mean, it could hardly have been the explosives, right?’

‘You’re an arsehole!’ Asif would have continued with his rant but his phone rang just then. He stalked off to one corner and took the call.

‘Haan, Mujib bhai,’ Iqbal heard him murmur. ‘No! No! I’m sure! We did everything by the book. What? No, I’m very sure… yes, he’s reliable. There must have been some problem with either the ICs or the detonators.’

The man at the other end had clearly launched into a tirade; Iqbal could see Asif shake his head vigorously from time to time.

‘Could you at least speak with the guy in Kochi?’ Asif pleaded. ‘He could check the remaining ICs and detonators and see if there’s anything wrong… Yes, I promise I’ll investigate thoroughly at my end.’ Then Asif turned his back to the others and Iqbal couldn’t hear any more.

As soon as Asif had hung up, he began a detailed investigation of the fiasco. Everyone, including Iqbal, was questioned in great detail, then Asif pilloried the men in the other cities over the phone.

A couple of hours passed in Asif’s aggressive questioning, but the investigation was going nowhere. Asif was on the verge of putting an end to it when his phone rang again. He snatched it out of his pocket and glared at the screen. At once his demeanour changed. He scurried to a corner again as he answered.

‘Haan ji, bhai?’ The silence in the room ensured that his part of the conversation at least was audible to the others, though they all pretended not to hear. ‘Did he find out what was wrong?
What?
That’s not possible, Mujib bhai, something had to be…’

Whatever it was that the caller at the other end was telling him, it made Asif turn slowly and scrutinize each of the men in the room. His gaze finally came to rest on Iqbal and lingered there.

‘Only two, Mujib bhai, one from Pune and one from Delhi… the rest are all old-timers. They were all there in the previous operations.’ Iqbal felt a cold finger of fear crawl up his spine at Asif’s words. ‘Of course I’m sure. Yes, yes, don’t worry. I’ll do that.’

He listened in silence for another minute before he ended the call. All the while, his unflinching gaze was fixed on Iqbal.

Iqbal waited until Asif had hung up and then stepped forward. ‘May I borrow your phone to call my wife?’ he asked, his tone nonchalant.

‘Where’s yours?’

‘You made me leave it at home.’

‘Okay. Here.’ Asif handed it to him. It was a black Motorola phone with a full-fledged QWERTY keyboard, similar to the one Iqbal had seen Sami using. Pretending unfamiliarity with its functioning, Iqbal pressed the green dial button and looked at the last few calls that were displayed on the large rectangular screen. He committed the last incoming number to memory before he dialled Tanaz’s number.

Iqbal could feel Asif’s gaze on him, so he kept the call short. ‘Take care of yourself,’ he said loudly. ‘I should be home soon.’

Then he handed the phone back to Asif with a murmured thank you. He was about to turn away when Asif reached out and touched his arm – lightly, but still it felt like a threat.

‘When I left the stuff at your place that evening, did anyone come home?’

‘My place? No! In fact, I took my wife to the doctor just after you left and we went for a movie later that night. Why?’

‘Did you open the case and fool around with the things inside?’

‘No, Asif, why should I? That stuff scares the hell out of me.’

‘Does it now?’ His gaze was still fixed intently on Iqbal’s face.

‘You know that.’ Iqbal gave an embarrassed laugh.

‘No, I don’t.’ Asif was unrelenting. ‘
You
say it does.’ He looked him in the eye. ‘Are you sure, Iqbal?’

‘Of course I am,’ Iqbal said emphatically. ‘Why are you asking me all these questions, Asif bhai?’

‘Someone tampered with the material, that’s why.’

‘Well, it wasn’t me. Why don’t you do what Imtiaz suggested – check with the guy who supplied them; maybe he screwed up.’

‘I’ve already done that. The Mallu has checked all the other items from the same set and they’re perfectly fine.’

‘The Mallu?’

‘The guy in Kochi. He has been supplying us right from… never mind,’ Asif broke off suddenly, realizing he had said more than was necessary. ‘Only this lot malfunctioned. That’s why I’m sure that whatever was done to it was done after I got the delivery. In that case, there are only two possibilities – you, or Imtiaz. No one else could have done it.’

‘Well, then, I suggest you ask Imtiaz,’ Iqbal said with a shrug. ‘I know nothing about bombs and I never touched them. The suitcase was put under the bed in my house in front of you and taken out by you. Nobody touched it while it was there.’

Asif continued to hold Iqbal’s gaze, his hand on his arm. Then his phone rang and he walked over to a corner again.

Iqbal could tell from Asif’s deferential manner that it was Mujib bhai’s call. Asif seemed afraid of him, or at the very least, watchful.

This time Asif kept his voice really low and Iqbal couldn’t hear a word. As soon as the call ended, Asif turned to them.

‘Right guys, we have a new target!’ he announced.

‘Already?’ Imtiaz asked, his question mirroring the surprise they all felt. ‘So soon?’

‘Yes, we have to make up for this fucked up operation, so we leave in a couple of days. I suggest you all go home now and make your presence felt in town.’ He called after them as Abid, Imtiaz and Iqbal trooped out, ‘And be ready to move soon, maybe even the day after tomorrow.’

They went out onto the main road together, where they flagged down three autorickshaws and went their separate ways.

Iqbal thought about what he had just heard as his autorickshaw accelerated into the traffic.
The explosives come from some guy in Kochi and the person who called Asif from that outstation number, someone called Mujib, designates the targets.

He recited to himself the number he had memorized.

I must pass on all this information to Captain Sami as soon as possible. They need to get working on it immediately.
Another city was on the hit list. He wondered which one it was.

Iqbal fought the mounting anxiety he felt as he began to mentally format the report he would send out to the Force 22 officers as soon as he got home. Things were moving too quickly for comfort.

I must warn them to be very careful
, he thought.
Asif is suspicious as hell. I wonder what he’ll do. Perhaps he’ll put me under observation.

The questions plagued Iqbal as the autorickshaw trundled towards his house, finally coming to a halt outside the now familiar gates. As usual, he couldn’t be bothered to wait for the lift and ran up the stairs, two at a time. Seconds later, Tanaz was in his arms. And for a while, all the worries and questions faded away as her warm fragrance filled his senses.

W
hat Asif did next caught Iqbal totally by surprise.

Two days later, Iqbal returned from the institute to find Asif waiting for him at the Golden Heritage gates. He had a suitcase with him, just like the one he had been carrying the previous time, perhaps even the same one. This time he also had a small bag slung over his shoulder.

‘Oh, hi, Asif!’ Iqbal’s greeting was rather tentative, as the apprehension built within him.
What did Asif want now?

Asif simply nodded. ‘Come on, let’s go up to your place.’ Nothing more was said until they were inside the apartment.

I hope Tanaz is not home, Iqbal prayed as he let himself in; he loathed the thought of exposing her to Asif. Unfortunately, she was.

Tanaz emerged from the kitchen when she heard the door open. The warm smile on her face faded abruptly when she saw Asif. Quickly covering her face with the chunni around her neck, she murmured a subdued salaam and retreated into the kitchen, unnerved by the long, appraising stare that Asif directed at her.

‘Please sit down, Asif.’ Iqbal gestured at the sofa. ‘Would you like to have some tea?’

‘I would like that.’ Asif gave a sly smile. ‘In fact, if it’s okay with you, I’ll spend the night here.’

‘You want to stay over for the night?’ Iqbal couldn’t contain his surprise.

‘Is there a problem if I do? You have a spare bedroom, don’t you?’

‘No, there’s no problem. Of course we have a spare bedroom. It’s just that…’

‘Yes?’ Asif was watching him keenly.

‘No, nothing. You can stay over.’

‘Good!’ Asif gave a smile of grim satisfaction. ‘It’s only for one night. We all leave tomorrow in any case.’

‘We do?’

‘Yes. We have to make up for the fiasco at Surat and this time I want to make sure I don’t let the materials out of my sight even for a moment.’

‘Oh! Okay!’ Iqbal shrugged, trying to keep the dismay off his face. ‘Sure! Why not?’ His head whirled as he tried to work out a solution to this unexpected twist.

With Asif in our face the whole night, how do I get word out to Force 22? Which city are we going to hit? How the hell am I going to prevent the bombs from going off this time?

‘You seem preoccupied.’ Asif was watching him closely. ‘Any problem?’

‘No, no. None at all.’ Iqbal pulled his mind back to the present, aware that Asif’s attention was entirely focused on him.

D
espite Iqbal’s best efforts, dinner was a silent, morose affair. Mercifully, the television offered some respite as Asif spent almost two hours completely absorbed in some song-and-dance reality show that was being telecast. Tanaz kept out of the way, mostly confining herself to the kitchen while Iqbal kept Asif company in the living room. Both Tanaz and Iqbal were plagued by a single thought – how to get information of the forthcoming strike out to Force 22. Asif’s presence in the tiny apartment made it impossible for either of them to use the phone or the laptop.

They were about to retire for the night when Asif threw the next googly.

‘May I have your laptop for the night, Iqbal? I need to use the internet.’

‘Sure, there it is.’ Iqbal pointed at it. ‘The data card is plugged in.’

‘Great!’ Asif walked across and picked it up.

Crap!
Iqbal cursed wordlessly.
There goes my
chance…

‘And listen, may I borrow your mobile phone too? I’ve forgotten my charger and I need to make some calls.’

‘Oh! Okay!’ Iqbal handed it over. ‘Just give it back when you’re done.’

‘You need it at night?’ Asif raised a questioning eyebrow.

‘Not really, but sometimes we get calls.’

‘That’s okay.’ Asif grinned. ‘I’ll let you know if any calls come in. Are you expecting anything important?’

‘No no, it’s not that, but you know how it is when the wife is pregnant… all kinds of relatives call in all the time.’

‘Not a problem, Iqbal. I’ll give it to you if there are any important calls. It’s just that I need to coordinate stuff for tomorrow and I’d like to keep my battery going as long as I can.’ Asif’s tone was bland, but Iqbal sensed the unsaid.

The bastard is making sure we are totally incommunicado. How much does he know?

From their bedroom Tanaz and Iqbal could hear Asif moving around in his room. Every once in a while they could hear him talking on the phone. They were both aware that the tiny apartment did not afford real privacy, either to them or to him. Only much later at night could they have any meaningful conversation.