BLOWBACK (29 page)

A short while later, the camera cut to the Hauz Khas police station, where a dejected Imtiaz was being taken out of a police jeep and into the building.

Terrorist captured from Green Park Free Church,
screamed the red and yellow ticker that scrolled at the bottom of the screen.

Moments later, the camera skipped to another location, a hospital whose name Asif was unable to catch. It showed the footage of an unconscious man being carried inside on a stretcher with a posse of armed cops all around him.

A second terrorist was captured from Punjabi Bagh church.

Then the camera returned to the devastation outside the Vasant Kunj church.

Asif watched carefully for several more minutes. There was nothing about the strike at the church on Sansad Marg or the capture of anyone there.

So! It’s that bastard, Iqbal... he’s the traitor.
Asif began to shake with anger.
I’ll make him pay. I’ll
set such an example that no one will even dream of betraying the cause again.
Realizing that his fingers had begun to crush the newspaper in his hands, Asif forced himself to relax.
I’ll make him pay if it kills me... Iqbal, you treacherous bastard, you are so fucking dead.

That was when he noticed a group of harried looking men enter the area and fan out in every direction. They had stress written large on their faces and what seemed like a photograph in their hands as they swept through the crowds. Forcing himself to stay calm, Ian Smith did what everyone else around him was doing. Turning to the elderly lady beside him, he began to discuss the latest bomb attack on Delhi. He was confident that his changed appearance would pass muster and no one other than Iqbal would be able to spot him after the changes he had made to his appearance; they were minor, but adequate for the purpose. Asif knew that the cops would not have had the time to computer-generate variants of the description Iqbal would surely have given them; variants that would have shown other appearances he could have adopted.

‘Isn’t that terrible,’ Asif said to the lady beside him, gesturing at the television, which was showing gory footage of the carnage at Vasant Kunj. ‘These days, you can’t step out of the house without wondering if you will return home alive.’

From the corner of his eye Asif watched a cop walk past him as the woman nodded vigorously. He kept his head attentively turned towards her, nodding occasionally as he engaged her in conversation.

‘W
hat was your planned escape route?’ Anbu’s voice came through tersely on the phone as Dhankar and Iqbal drove back towards Delhi Cantonment.

‘I was to catch the Jhelum Express from New Delhi railway station at 1020 hours, sir.’

‘So was the guy we caught from Punjabi Bagh, but he was going to board from the Subzi Mandi railway station.’

‘And Imtiaz? The one at the Green Park church?’

‘He was to take the Mumbai Rajdhani at 1630 hours, again from the New Delhi station.’ Anbu paused for a moment. ‘So I guess Asif had planned trains for all of you?’

‘He probably had, sir,’ Iqbal said hesitantly. ‘That’s what we normally did but then, this time he flew us all down.’

‘True.’ Anbu made up his mind, deciding to go with the law of averages. ‘I want both of you to get back to the railway station and keep an eye out for Asif.’

‘Which station, sir?’

‘You go to the New Delhi one. I’ll have the other stations and the airport covered by the other guys. Thanks to you, we have enough photographs of Asif.’

‘You’ll need lots of people, sir,’ Iqbal said worriedly.

‘Don’t worry, son. The ATTF has plenty of men. You go ahead and see if you can spot him. Focus on the trains heading towards Pune and Mumbai.’

‘What if he has managed to catch the flight back to Pune, sir?’ A sudden strand of fear clutched at Iqbal’s heart. ‘Tanaz is alone there. What if he…’

‘Good point, Iqbal,’ Anbu concurred. ‘I’ll get someone to her right away.’

‘But who, sir? The whole team is here in Delhi.’

‘Don’t worry, Iqbal. One of my paltan officers is posted there. In fact, he stays in Khadki, not too far from your apartment. I’ll tell him to deploy a couple of men to take care of Tanaz until you get there and we can get both of you out.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Iqbal heaved a sigh of relief.

Anbu got on the job right away.

‘Kapur,’ he said when the officer came on the line, ‘something urgent has come up. I need to have an important asset protected immediately.’ He quickly explained the situation and gave him the address. ‘It’s important that you get someone there at once. Her cover is almost certainly blown and she could be in grave danger.’

‘Don’t worry, sir, I’ll take care of it myself.’ Major Rajesh Kapur, who had once served in the battalion with Anbu, replaced the phone and ran towards the door. He knew Anbu was not the kind to cry wolf needlessly. He thought he would pick up a couple of guards from the quarter guard and go himself. Then he remembered that the quarter guard was on the other side of the unit lines, whereas the address given by Anbu was just around the corner.

Kapur turned around, rushed back to his room, grabbed his helmet and the keys to his motorbike and ran out again. A moment later he was on his way, his sense of urgency ensuring the throttle was wide open as he roared down the road. He didn’t notice the deep blue Toyota Corolla hurtling down the empty road. By the time he saw the car it was too late; its front fender caught the side of his bike almost head on, catapulting him over the handlebars. His head smashed against the concrete median dividing the road. The helmet cushioned the impact considerably, protecting him from otherwise certain death, but it was unable to keep him from being knocked unconscious. His last thought as he lost consciousness was
, I didn’t tell anybody about Anbu’s call…

M
iles to the north, unaware that the safety net he had thrown for Tanaz had not fallen into place, Anbu was immersed in the task of getting the ATTF to scour the airport and seal the several, oh-so-porous borders of the capital.

Asif had to be found, and taken. That was the least they could do to make up for the church victims. But he was nowhere to be found. The man seemed to have simply dropped off the face of the earth.
Damn! I wish I had at least activated the jammers a few minutes earlier
, Anbu thought, clenching his fist in frustration
.

‘Maybe he has gone to ground.’

‘Maybe he left Delhi by road.’

‘Maybe...’

There were just too many maybes. Though the vigil continued, by late afternoon the hunt had begun to lose steam. It was becoming increasingly clear to the hunters that their quarry had eluded them, at least for the time being.

‘Iqbal, I think you’d better get back to Pune,’ Anbu finally told him as the day wore to a close, ‘wind up there and both of you get back to base asap.’

‘Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do here, sir?’

‘I’m sure. We have enough people here to keep the city locked down tight. You go,’ Anbu reassured him. ‘Here, I am giving the phone to Ankita; she’ll tell you about the available flights to Pune.’

In the Ops Room just a few feet away, Ankita’s fingers had already begun to fly over the keyboard as she took the phone from Colonel Anbu.

Launching a new browser window, she swiftly logged into MakeMyTrip.com and checked the flights available from Delhi to Pune. ‘Where are you, Iqbal?’

‘We’re heading back from New Delhi railway station. We’ve just crossed Connaught Place.’

‘Okay.’ Ankita checked the time and then examined the flights available from Delhi to Pune. ‘If you hurry up, you can make the flight at 1845 hours. Head straight to the airport. I’ll book your ticket and text the e-ticket number to Dhankar’s mobile phone. Get a printout from the airlines counter at the airport. Okay?’

‘Fine!’

Ankita keyed in her credit card number and hit the enter key. ‘There! It’s done,’ she said a few seconds later. ‘I’m texting the PNR number to Dhankar’s mobile.’

‘Got it, thanks,’ said Iqbal as the text message chimed in. ‘We’re on our way.’

Dhankar accelerated when Iqbal gave him the flight time, but traffic was heavy and the first boarding call had already been made by the time Iqbal rushed up to the airline counter. By the time he had printed his e-ticket, checked in and navigated through security, final boarding had been announced. The aircraft door closed moments after he boarded. Exhausted by the rapid turn of events and the last-minute rush, he leaned back and allowed himself to relax as the plane began to taxi down the runway.

I wish I’d had the time to call Tanaz,
he thought.
She must have seen the news and will be worried sick. But I’m sure whoever Anbu sent to guard her has explained everything.

Despite the failure to prevent Asif from exploding the final bomb, Iqbal was smiling to himself as he leaned back and closed his eyes. It felt unbelievably good to be going home again. A few feet away, the aircrew began to serve snacks and beverages and the sound of the aircraft settled into a monotonous drone.

TWENTY-TWO

Iqbal jumped out of the prepaid cab as it drew to a halt at the gates of the Golden Heritage complex. There was a blaze of lights in the almost fully occupied Tower A, but Towers B and C were clothed in near darkness. Neither of the two elevators was on the ground floor when he reached the lobby of his building. Too impatient to wait, he turned and began to run up the stairs, two at a time. Despite the lack of sleep, the two hour flight and the exhaustion of the last few days, his body took it well. The training was paying off. He grinned to himself as he reached the third floor and walked through the corridor to his apartment on the extreme left. It was dark, the only light coming from the weak yellow bulb over the front door of Zubaida’s apartment at the other end.

Iqbal wondered why Tanaz had not switched on the light outside their front door
.

He was about five feet from the apartment door, his hands reaching in his jacket pocket for the house keys when he noticed that the door was slightly ajar. He halted for a second, his mind trying to process this information.

Maybe one of the guards sent by Colonel Anbu has stepped out... but why would he leave the door open?

His heartbeat escalated as Iqbal reached out and gently pushed open the door.

M
ujib sat at the far end of the room, just out of reach of the solitary light that had been switched on near the living room door. He was in almost total darkness whereas anyone entering the room would be caught squarely under the light. The large, well-padded armchair had been turned to face the door and the .38 Smith and Wesson pistol in Mujib’s hand was trained on Iqbal’s chest when he entered, the bulky silencer fitted on the barrel adding to its menace.

Iqbal’s fingers itched for the .22 pistol that Tanaz kept buried under the cushion of the red three-seater sofa about six feet to his right, but his mind reined him in. He knew that such an attempt would be nothing short of suicidal; Mujib would cut him down before he was halfway.

As he cast around for the options available to him, Iqbal realized that Tanaz was nowhere in sight. He felt a sudden nauseous churning in the pit of his stomach.

‘Come in.’ Mujib’s voice was laconic. ‘We’ve been waiting for you.’

‘Who are you?’ Iqbal brushed away the panic building inside him. He would have to retain his composure if he was to fight back and get Tanaz and himself out of this situation alive. ‘What are you doing in my house?’

‘Come in and close the door.’ Mujib’s voice was tight with anger.

Iqbal shut the door and threw the latch before he turned to face Mujib again. ‘Who are you?’ he repeated mechanically, trying desperately to figure out the situation.
Who else is inside? How many? Where is Tanaz?

‘You don’t know who I am?’

‘I’ve never seen you before.’

‘It doesn’t matter. We know who you are now.’

‘What do you mean, you know who I am? You…’

‘Save it, Iqbal.’ Mujib waved the gun at him dismissively. ‘We know! Your woman talked.’ He laughed. ‘She’s a tough one, I’ll grant you, but she talked. Everyone talks after a point.’

Iqbal felt his mind shut down as fear wrestled with rage. ‘If you have so much as harmed a hair on her…’ He took a step forward. Mujib brought his gun hand up menacingly, forcing him to a halt.

‘Oh, we’ve done much more than that,’ he said almost conversationally, his words chilling Iqbal to the bone. ‘You have no idea of the pain she took before better sense prevailed and she decided to talk.’ The words hissed out venomously. ‘And you are going to suffer far worse, as will everyone who betrays the cause.’

Just then Asif and another man whom Iqbal had never seen before emerged from the bedroom to the left. Both had large splotches of blood on their hands and clothes.

‘That’s it, bhaijaan. I don’t think she knows any more...’ Asif was saying when he noticed Iqbal in the room and his tone changed. ‘So! The traitor is back.’

The sight of the two men sent a tidal wave of fear through Iqbal. A red haze began to shroud his eyes, blanketing his mind to everything else. He felt only the need to kill… to kill and to save Tanaz. His body tensed for action. Then he looked at Mujib and realized that neither the man’s gaze nor his gun had wavered even an inch.

I can do nothing for Tanaz if I behave stupidly and get myself killed. I need to be calm if I have to get us out of here.

‘What have you done to her? Can I see her… please,’ Iqbal forced himself to plead. Every fibre of his being ached to find his beloved Tanaz and save her from the pain these soulless bastards must have inflicted upon her.

‘Sure!’ Mujib replied as Asif sniggered. ‘You must see for yourself the death that awaits all those who betray the jihad. Go!’ The pistol gestured towards the bedroom door.

‘She is just inches away from death,’ Asif said with a dark smile. ‘After you’ve seen and suffered the pain she has gone through, you’ll follow her straight to hell.’

Iqbal sprang to push open the bedroom door, then froze at the sight that met his eyes as he entered the room.