BLOWBACK (27 page)
‘You mind explaining the programme to us?’
‘Sure I will, Imtiaz, but tomorrow morning. Right now, I have other stuff to catch up on.’ With that he hustled them away to their room.
Imtiaz didn’t take long to fall asleep. Iqbal lay in the bed next to his, trying to prevent himself from tossing and turning. The fact that he had managed to defuse the bombs didn’t bring the sense of relief that he had hoped for. Instead, something kept nagging at his mind. He was unable to put a finger on it, but he couldn’t push away the feeling that something was seriously amiss, that he had missed something critical.
Damn! Had it not been for this idiot,
he glared at the man sleeping on the other bed,
Colonel Anbu and his team would have been here by now and this operation would be over. Now, even if I manage to alert him in the morning, we won’t be able to take down that bugger, Mujib. All this effort will go to waste.
Suddenly, another thought struck him.
What if they stick someone else onto me tomorrow morning? Then how will I get word out at all?
This new worry was beginning to gnaw at him when he heard the main door open. He could hear three or four people moving in the courtyard and in the room where they had been making the bombs. Though he tried hard to make out what they were saying, the unseen men kept their voices very low. Iqbal fought the temptation to stand at the door and eavesdrop again. He knew that if they caught him, they would take him apart mercilessly.
The muted commotion lasted a good half hour before he heard them exit, and silence returned to the house once more. A moment later, he heard footsteps coming up to the door. He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep as the door opened and Asif looked in.
Asif examined the two sleeping men for a moment before he shut the door again and moved to the adjacent room. And Iqbal returned to his relentless fretting.
‘Rest is a weapon,’ Dhankar had told him more than once. ‘The body needs rest far more than it needs food. Make sure you give it that rest whenever you get the chance.’
Knowing that there was nothing else he could do right now, Iqbal closed his eyes and willed sleep to take over.
Tomorrow is another day, another battle. It will all be over tomorrow, Inshallah.
The loud, incessant knocking on the door woke Iqbal with a start. He opened his eyes to see that shards of daylight had crept into the room through the curtained window.
‘Come on guys, rise and shine. Time to get cracking.’ Asif’s voice was loud as he sauntered in. He was already dressed and looked all set to go. ‘You two have half an hour to get ready... and make sure you shave and put on your Sunday best. Remember, we’re going to church today.’
Twenty-five minutes later, when Iqbal and Imtiaz entered the kitchen, Asif was there with Khalid. He started off without any preamble.
‘Right! This is what we’re going to do. We’ll load one Christmas tree, a few dozen plum cakes and some chocolate fudge packets in each of the four Maruti vans parked outside. Also, one Santa Claus outfit each – make sure you carry one that fits you properly.’
‘You never said we would have to wear fancy dress!’ Imtiaz exclaimed.
‘Can you think of a better disguise?’ Asif shot back. ‘Just close your eyes and think of what you would say if you were asked to describe a man dressed as Santa Claus. And give some thought to how people react when they see a man dressed as Santa.’
‘I see what you mean.’ There was grudging admiration in Imtiaz’s voice. There was no doubt about it, all Santa Clauses looked pretty much the same and any attempt to describe one was not likely to go beyond red clothes, a red cap and a big white beard. And most people would view them with amusement rather than suspicion. ‘It’s perfect.’
‘I know it is!’ Asif said cockily. ‘Imtiaz, you’ll take the first van and drive to the Green Park church. Stop en route at a suitable place and put your Santa outfit on over your clothes.’
‘Why not do it right now?’
‘Just a precaution. I don’t want anyone associating the clothes with this house.’
‘I see.’
‘Park the van in the area I showed you yesterday. You must try to keep it as close to the church gate as possible. Get the plum cakes and chocolates out and head for stall number seven – that’s the second one to the left as you enter from the main gate. It has already been booked and paid for by one of our people.’
‘What if the security guards want to check the packets?’
‘Don’t wait for them to ask you. Instead, I want you to start opening the boxes and showing them to the security on your own... in fact, you could even offer one of the cakes or a box of chocolates to them... spreading Christmas cheer, as it were. Okay?’ He waited till Imtiaz nodded.
‘Once you’ve got all your cakes and chocolates on the table in your stall, come back and take the Christmas tree from the van. With the tree already assembled, it’s going to be just a little too wide to go through the doorframe metal detector. Make a show of trying to push it through and then, with the right apologies, walk it around the detector.’
‘What if the cops don’t allow me to take it in, or want to check it properly?’
‘That’s the only thing you have to avoid. If they start insisting, then grumble about not wanting to spoil it and just cart it back to the van and leave it there.’
‘What happens to the plan in that…?’
‘Nothing,’ Asif cut him off. ‘Just allow me to finish.’
‘Okay.’
‘If you manage to get the Christmas tree inside, place it just behind the desk so that the top of the tree is visible, but you are able to dig out the phone from inside the pot and switch it on without being seen. Got it?’ Imtiaz nodded. ‘Good. Now, between 0900 and 0915 hours, activate the mobile phone in the pot, head for the bathroom, get rid of the Santa outfit and leave the church quietly. As soon as you’re out, head for the nearest taxi stand and get out of there. You got that?’
‘What if I haven’t been able to get the tree in and it’s still in the van?’
‘Even then, by 0915 hours you must get rid of the Santa dress, get back to the van and switch on the phone. But in this case, I want you to stop at the nearest phone booth and let me know.’
‘Okay! That sounds simple enough. Where do I go then? Come back here?’
‘No! You head back to Pune immediately. Your return ticket is in this.’ Asif tossed him a sealed envelope. Imtiaz was starting to open it when Asif stopped him. ‘No. You do that when you’re alone. I don’t want anyone to know anyone else’s escape route. That way, all of us don’t get compromised...’
‘…in case any one of us is taken,’ Imtiaz completed the sentence for him. ‘Yeah, yeah, we know that.’
‘Fine. Now you,’ he turned to Iqbal, ‘will follow the same procedure as Imtiaz here except that you will head for the stall on the extreme right, the one closest to the main door of the church. It has a yellow canopy and a signboard with “Cakes and Chocolates” tagged on the front. Any doubts?’
Iqbal shook his head after a moment’s thought, trying to visualize the position of the stall on the mental map he had of the church. ‘None,’ he said.
‘Fine. The rest of your drill is exactly the same. Now, are you both sure of your route from here to the target?’ Both Imtiaz and Iqbal nodded. ‘Even so, just to prevent any hassles, keep these.’ He tossed two Garmin GPS navigators at them, one for each man. ‘Both have been preset and your routes plotted on them. All you have to do is switch it on and follow the instructions.’ He leaned out and switched on the one in Iqbal’s hands. ‘Okay?’
‘Boy! You’re really well prepared this time, Asif,’ Imitaz said with a chuckle as he fondled the sleek navigation device in his hand. ‘Do I get to keep this after the mission?’
‘Keep it,’ Asif said with an exasperated sigh. ‘You guys have enough money on you?’ The two men nodded.
‘Fine.’ Asif handed over another envelope to Iqbal. ‘That’s your return ticket.’ He turned to Khalid. ‘And you already have yours.’
Khalid responded with a smug smile; obviously, he was the one who had booked the tickets.
‘Now guys, remember the key points; first, you have to get in early so that the parking lot is not full and you can park as close to the church gate as possible; second, make sure you put on your Santa outfit before you reach the church; third, be very polite and helpful, not just to the security staff but to everyone you meet there. Remember that you are supposed to be full of Christmas cheer and you’re selling this stuff to raise money for charity. Fourth, do
not
activate the phone in the tree till you are entirely ready to move out. And finally, the minute you get clear of the church, take the first available transport and get the hell out of Delhi.’
‘What happens once we’ve done our bit? Who does the final activation?’ Imtiaz was not one to stop till all his doubts were cleared.
‘Oh, it’s really very simple. At 0945 hours sharp, I’ll send a group text message to all four mobile phones. That will trigger off the explosions.’
‘But what good will that do?’ Imtiaz protested. ‘We’re using low-grade bombs and there’s no shrapnel in them. There will be hardly any casualties.’
‘Patience, miyan,’ Asif said with a broad smile. ‘They are not meant to cause casualties. The explosions will simply drive people in a rush towards the church gates. In the ensuing panic, there will be a stampede and not only will some more people get hurt, but the gates will get blocked. While they’re trying to get people moving away from the church, just a few minutes after the first explosion, I’ll send out the second text message and the bombs planted in the vans will go off. These are RDX-based and there’s enough masala in them to take out half the parking lot.’
Iqbal felt himself go very still as he realized he had been outwitted. Screwing up the tree bombs would minimize casualties but not by much.
Through the haze enveloping him, Iqbal heard Imtiaz ask, ‘What if the tree is still in the van? Won’t that...’
‘That’s why you must let me know if you haven’t been able to get the tree into the church. In that case, I’ll simply activate the bomb in the van directly. Even that will be more than enough...’
The rest of the conversation was lost on Iqbal as he tried frantically to think ahead.
Khalid’s target is obviously a church in Punjabi Bagh since he is carrying a Christmas tree bomb too, so that shouldn’t be too hard to find. How many churches can there be in Punjabi Bagh? And it can’t be far from where we parked yesterday, since they were only gone a few minutes.
Iqbal visualized the route they had taken and the place where they had parked the van. The Punjabi Bagh Club signboard was sharp in his memory. He was confident he could guide people there easily. But Asif’s target remained a mystery to him.
‘Come on, Iqbal! Where are you?’ He came to with a start as Imtiaz thumped him on the back. ‘Let’s go.’
‘I was... I was just trying to figure out if there’s some other way to get the tree into the church,’ he said, trying desperately to deflect the attention from himself.
‘And?’ Asif was watching him closely.
‘No! Nothing!’ Iqbal shook his head lamely. ‘I think you’ve pretty much covered all the possibilities.’
‘Fine.’ Asif gave a satisfied smirk. ‘Let’s get moving then.’ A flurry of activity ensued as the four men selected their costumes, divided up and loaded their materials into the four vans parked outside. At precisely 0732 hours, the first man, Khalid, kicked off since he had the farthest to go. Iqbal went next, a few minutes later.
A
ccelerating out of the narrow Mohammedpur lane, Iqbal turned left on the main road and headed straight down Africa Avenue. After crossing Ring Road he would go past the old Chanakya theatre till he hit the T-junction at Ashoka Hotel. There he would swing right and continue straight ahead to Sansad Marg after crossing Race Course Road. As it was a holiday, the traffic was reasonably light and Iqbal made it in very good time. Even the traffic light at the Ring Road intersection was green, saving him a precious couple of minutes.
As soon as he had crossed the red light, he moved over to the kerb and brought the van to a halt. He climbed into the back and hauled out the mobile phone from the base of the tree. His fingers were trembling as he removed the cover, reversed the SIM card and powered up the phone again. He began to dial Anbu’s number.
You do not have sufficient balance to make this call,
an impersonal voice informed him. Cursing, he threw down the phone on the co-passenger’s seat and drove off again. He would have to find a phone somehow.
He was driving past the Chanakya complex when he spotted the familiar colours of a black and yellow ISD-STD signboard; it stood out prominently amidst the bilingual signboards on which Russian and English showed up with equal prominence. Taking a hard left, he pulled into the Yeshwant Place parking lot. Throwing a ten-rupee note at the parking attendant, Iqbal ran towards the telephone booth.
It was not open
.
Iqbal raced back towards the parking lot like a madman.
‘You have a mobile?’ he asked the attendant. The man nodded; these days, everyone had one.
‘Can I borrow it for one minute? Please! It’s an emergency. I can pay you.’ Iqbal reached for his wallet with shaking fingers, his chest heaving not so much from the exertion as from the rapidly escalating stress.
‘You can, but I don’t have any balance on my phone.’ The man pulled out his phone and held it up. ‘But maybe he has.’ He pointed at his assistant, who was hovering at the other end of the parking lot. ‘Oye, you have balance on your mobile? He has an emergency.’ He jerked his thumb at Iqbal.
‘Haan, I do, but very little.’ The man strolled up towards them casually and pulled out a mobile phone from his pocket.
‘It will do. I just need it for one second.’ Iqbal’s hands were shaking as he stuffed some money into the man’s hands, grabbed the mobile from him and dialled Anbu’s number.
Ring! Ring! Come on, damn it! Hurry up!
It was precisely 0803 hours when the phone began to ring and Anbu, who had been restlessly pacing the floor of the ATTF Ops Room, answered.
