BLOWBACK (21 page)
‘What should we do now?’ Tanaz whispered as they lay huddled in each other’s arms later that night. ‘How are we going to get word out to the colonel?’ Her unease was palpable. Before getting into bed, she had pulled out the .22 pistol that they kept hidden inside a shoe under the bed and placed it under her pillow.
‘I think we should activate the emergency contact procedure,’ Iqbal said.
‘Do we have any other option?’
‘None that I can think of.’
‘Then let’s do it.’
‘There is nothing else we can do,’ Iqbal whispered. ‘I’m sure Asif is not going to leave us alone until we move out for the strike tomorrow. By then it might be too late…’
‘Let’s activate it right away then. We’re running out of time.’
‘True. It’s almost morning.’
Iqbal got up silently and went across to the cupboard where he kept his clothes. He was careful not to make any noise as he slid open the well-oiled door and reaching inside, pulled out a slim black and brown leather belt from the back of the top shelf. The belt had one of those rotating buckles that are fixed on reversible two-colour belts. Iqbal rotated the buckle twice in a clockwise direction and then thrice counter-clockwise, activating the GPS locator embedded in it.
‘Activate this at the last possible moment, Iqbal,’ Tiwathia had warned when he gave him the belt. ‘The battery backup is minimal.’
‘What happens when I do that?’
‘Well, if you leave the signal on, then we know the emergency response has been activated, and we come in and get both of you out. However, if you move to intermittent mode, which you can do simply by waiting for a minute or so and then turning the buckle back counter-clockwise three times,’ Tiwathia demonstrated on the belt he was holding, ‘then we get the message that there is a problem and we need to initiate contact with you right away, but your cover is intact and the operation is still alive.’
‘And how do I shut it down?’
‘That takes time since you need to open it first. It has to be reset and the battery changed. And be careful, okay? It’s a delicate piece of equipment and needs to be handled with care. You go twisting it all over the place and it’s liable to break.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be very careful.’ And he was. Iqbal held the belt gingerly in his hand, unsure what he should do next. How long do I need to wait before I turn it again and move to the intermittent mode, he wondered silently. He decided to give it a couple of minutes.
U
nseen and unheard by Iqbal, the minute the GPS locator in the belt came alive, a small red beep began to pulse rapidly on the electronic map that glowed on the wall of the Force 22 Ops Room at Kasauli. Simultaneously, a text message alert beeped on the mobile phones of Anbu, Sami, Tiwathia, Khare and Ankita. Despite the unearthly hour, all five of them moved into action instantly.
At Kasauli, Anbu and Khare reached the Ops Room at the same time, both breathless. Khare’s fingers slid rapidly over the keyboard as he manoeuvered the map and homed in on Iqbal’s location.
‘They’re at the apartment,’ he confirmed to Anbu.
‘Get eyes on it,’ Anbu ordered as he turned to the phone. He was reaching for it when it rang.
‘Iqbal has activated emergency response, MS,’ said Anbu, his steady voice betraying none of the tension he felt.
‘We’re on it, sir. Dhankar is moving out with the extraction team in a moment.’
‘What was the last report from him? Any idea what’s happening there?’
‘We spoke this morning,’ Sami replied. ‘Iqbal said things were quiet since they got back from Surat. Asif had dropped out of sight, presumably to prepare for the next strike he told them about.’
‘That’s right! The ATTF tracked him to Kochi.’
‘Great! Did they manage to identify the Mallu?’
‘Yes, they did. He’s their main equipment supplier. They have him under 24x7 surveillance now. They’re clocking everyone who meets him. Hopefully, we’ll uncover that end of the network pretty soon. We need to know where he gets the stuff from.’
‘Fantastic, sir! And Asif?’
‘Unfortunately, they lost him in the city not long after he left the Mallu’s house.’
‘Crap!’
‘I agree, but these things happen.’
‘Maybe he’s back in Pune and that’s why Iqbal activated…’
‘No guesswork, MS, not after emergency response has been activated. We do this strictly by the book. I want you to…’
Just then, the light on the screen began to blink intermittently and the urgent red colour changed to a more sedate orange.
‘The signal has moved to the intermittent mode now, sir,’ Khare called out, sounding relieved.
‘Yes, I see that too,’ Sami said when Anbu told him.
‘Excellent.’ Anbu felt some of the stress recede. ‘Place the extraction team on standby and activate the milk run.’
‘Good idea, sir!’ Putting down the phone, Sami swung into action at once.
T
he irritating buzz of the doorbell shattered the early morning calm in the apartment. Even though he had been expecting someone to arrive, by the time Iqbal opened his bedroom door Asif was already out of his room and halfway across the living room. He was either a light sleeper or had already been awake. Though it was slack by his side and almost out of sight, the pistol in Asif’s hand gave Iqbal a cold shock.
Why am I surprised? Of course he would be armed!
Peering through the peephole, Asif carefully surveyed the area outside the door. Then he turned to Iqbal and whispered, ‘Seems like the milkman. Doesn’t he just leave the milk outside and go away?’
‘That’s what he normally does,’ Iqbal replied, matching his decibel level.
‘Then why is he...?’
The doorbell buzzed again.
‘Open the damn door before he wakes up the whole world!’ With an exasperated glare Asif motioned to the door with his pistol and took position to one side, from where he could cover the door if required.
Although Iqbal had expected one of the Force 22 officers, he had to fight to contain his surprise when he opened the door and saw the man who waited outside. ‘Yes? What is it? Why are you ringing the doorbell at this time?’
‘Sorry, sahib, but I need the month’s payment. Memsahib told me to collect it today.’ The accent was typical of the bhaiyya from the cow belt, but the careful observer would have noticed that this particular milkman was well-built and well-fed, almost as though he consumed more milk than he delivered. Luckily, from where he was positioned, Asif couldn’t see beyond the doorway.
‘How much is it?’ Iqbal allowed his exasperation to show, the normal reaction of any person woken up so early for such a tiresome task.
‘Four hundred and eighty-two rupees, sahib. I had given the details with the bill to memsahib and...’
‘Okay, okay! Let me get it for you. Wait.’ He closed the door and turned back to Asif with a shrug. Asif had heard the exchange and returned the pistol to his ankle holster. ‘Pay the idiot and get rid of him,’ he muttered as he returned to the spare bedroom.
Iqbal went to his bedroom and quickly pulled out his wallet and extracted five hundred-rupee notes from it. He used the special pen Ankita had given him to scribble a short message on the currency note in the middle. Returning the pen to his cupboard, he went out again.
This is the best way for you to pass on messages even in the face of the enemy. The writing will only be visible under a special lamp.
‘Here, this is five hundred.’ Iqbal opened the door and held out the money. ‘Put the balance in our account.’ He kept his tone normal, keenly aware that Asif was listening to every word.
‘Thank you, sahib. Here is the milk.’
Iqbal took the milk and was closing the door again when he stopped and said, ‘Oh, why don’t you give me one more litre? We have a guest today.’
‘No problem, sahib.’ Iqbal took the second packet held out by the milkman and closed the door. He went into the kitchen and put the milk in the refrigerator. He was heading back to his room when Asif called out, ‘I don’t drink that much milk, you know.’
‘That’s fine, Asif, but you know how it is with tea and all.’
‘Thanks, but there isn’t much time for tea and all, Iqbal,’ Asif said with a mysterious smile. ‘We leave in two hours.’
‘Oh.’ Iqbal contained his dismay. ‘Then I guess I’d better get my stuff ready and tell Tanaz to give us some breakfast.’
‘Do that.’ Asif stepped back inside and closed the door to his bedroom.
I
qbal had just begun to throw his things into his backpack and Tanaz was in the kitchen getting breakfast ready when the incongruous milkman returned to his destination. He held out the five notes to Ankita, who began to scan them under the special lamp kept beside her laptop. She found the note with the message immediately.
Asif here. Another strike today. We have no comm.
She was reading it aloud when the door reopened and Dhankar, who had gone out with the extrication team, entered. Sami was with him. The two of them read the note as well.
‘So that’s where Asif is!’ Sami exclaimed. ‘I guessed as much. Let me get the Old Man up to speed.’ He turned and headed for the phone.
‘You’re looking good, Vikram,’ Dhankar said with a chuckle as he watched Tiwathia climb out of his milkman’s attire. ‘You may like to consider this as a career option once we retire you.’
‘Right!’ Tiwathia grinned back at him. ‘Good to know I won’t starve when the time comes to hang up my boots.’
The two men laughed again, but their hearts were not in it. They were both thinking about the woman and the man who were at that moment carrying the bombs, literally.
They didn’t know which city would be targeted, where and how the operation would go, and how they would stop the terrorists. This time they wouldn’t be able to sabotage the bombs to stop them from going off. They would have to find and defuse them, and do it in time.
It was almost six in the morning when the 1033 Darbhanga Express from Pune pulled into Varanasi railway station the next day. As usual, Asif was first off the train and he led the way into the city. Despite the early hour, there were enough rickshaw-wallahs hanging around and they didn’t have any problem reaching their destination near the Banaras Hindu University.
It was yet another ubiquitous, tiny two-room apartment, the kind often rented by students. Both rooms were bustling with an assortment of young men when the quartet from Pune entered. Iqbal was cursorily introduced to the four men who had not been with them during the Surat strike. Instinctively, Iqbal committed their faces, names and whatever else he could glean from them to memory. By now he was confident that a few moments were enough for him to churn out an Identikit picture and a reasonably accurate personal profile even several days later.
‘Come on, Imtiaz,’ Asif called out as the others settled down. ‘Let’s get this stuff together.’
‘You’re going to help me assemble them?’ Imtiaz asked, sounding surprised and not too pleased.
‘Sure! Any problem?’ Asif held his gaze in a clear challenge.
‘So!’ Imtiaz could not contain his anger. ‘You think what happened in Surat was my fault?’
‘I didn’t say that, Imtiaz,’ Asif said brusquely, ‘I just need to be sure that we get it right this time.’
‘Fine! Suit yourself.’ Throwing down his duffel bag, Imtiaz stalked across to the table where they would be assembling the bombs. The two of them began to work in uncomfortable silence.
From across the room, Iqbal watched the interplay between Asif and Imtiaz with interest. He was glad to see that the mistrust was no longer directed at him alone.
The fiasco at Surat must have really messed things up for Asif,
he thought, feeling pleased.
That Mujib bhai, whoever he is, must have really taken his trip… I wonder where the Force 22 team is.
I
qbal, and because of him Asif, had been under surveillance from the time Iqbal had initiated emergency contact. Dhankar had followed them all the way from Iqbal’s apartment to the railway station and onto the train. When the train pulled out of the platform, Dhankar was seated just two compartments away in the same bogie. The GPS locator in his mobile phone was powered by the phone battery and would keep working even if the phone failed for some reason.
Ankita was squashed between Sami and Tiwathia in a chopper flying a dozen miles to the right of the train. The chopper was too far to be seen or heard by anyone on the train, yet close enough to sweep in and deliver them to the desired destination, wherever and whenever Dhankar disembarked.
‘It looks like they’re heading for Varanasi,’ Ankita said as the train swept past Allahabad, the last major city on that route. ‘There’s no other big stop en route.’
Sami leaned forward and studied the map. ‘You’re right. That sounds logical.’
Tapping out a fresh string of commands on her laptop, Ankita pulled up a detailed city map of Varanasi on the screen and began to study it intently.
‘Is there anything special happening in Varanasi that we need to know about?’ Tiwathia mused.
‘Let me find out.’ Sami reached for the horn and began to communicate with Khare at Kasauli. Finally he turned to the others in the chopper. ‘In addition to the usual pilgrimage rush, the CBSE and ICSE board examinations are going on. Otherwise, it’s just business as usual.’
‘Fine! In that case, let’s focus on the major temples,’ Ankita replied. She studied the map quietly for a few minutes and then looked up. ‘Damn! There are so many of them here.’
‘Of course, didn’t you know that? Why do you think they call it the temple city?’ Tiwathia laughed grimly. ‘Let’s wait and see where these guys go to ground. That should give us a pretty decent idea of what they’re planning to target.’
‘Right! Meanwhile, let me activate the local ATTF and have them standing by with the BDS.’
‘And with plenty of bomb blankets. This time we don’t have GPS locators to help us find the bombs, so it’s going to be touch and go. We need to be prepared for the worst case scenario.’
‘True!’ Ankita added sombrely. ‘Let’s just hope we’re able to find the damn things in time.’
Silence fell upon the inmates of the chopper. Professionals that they all were, each one knew that in live operations things seldom went the way they should.
