KALYUG (35 page)

Raghav had been gone for just a couple of minutes – although it seemed infinitely longer – when a staccato burst of gunfire erupted close enough to make us jump out of our skin. Richa clutched me tighter, her nails almost cutting into the skin of my forearm, and I pulled her closer to me. It struck me then that, to my knowledge, Raghav had been the only one with a gun in the room. Unless Nelson or Jagannath – or, as incredible as it may seem, GK – were packing, it meant that we were completely defenceless. I chose to keep that bit of knowledge to myself.

We heard running footsteps in the corridor. Before we could react, however, the door was jerked open and two men – foreigners – tumbled in. An older man followed by a younger one. I leaned towards Richa and whispered, ‘What’s this? The UN?’ She slapped my arm.

‘So sorry to drop in on you like this,’ said the older man with a smile. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

‘How did you guys get out?’ Jagannath asked, locking the door behind them. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘I had specifically asked the guards to hold you there until it was time for you to come.’

‘Ah, well . . . don’t blame those chaps,’ the Englishman – I guessed from his accent – said. ‘That explosion knocked out the electronic locks on the door and the two guards went to check out some commotion at the end of the corridor. When they failed to return, we decided to take matters into our own hands.’ He looked around at the rest of us. ‘I’m Sir Harold Holmes, by the way, and this young man with me goes by the delightful name of Llong Cox. He prefers Jack, of course.’

‘Of the British Secret Intelligence Service?’ Gyandeep butted in, extending a hand. ‘I owe you one, in that case. Without that letter your ambassador wrote when you disappeared, I doubt we would have managed to locate this place so easily.’ They shook hands. ‘I’m Gyandeep Sharma, by the way, and this is my – boss. We call him Chief. He likes it.’

Richa and I shared a look that conveyed our thoughts. It was almost vaudevillian, the way the two men were talking, and in another place and situation, I might have even cracked a joke or two myself. As things were, however, it was kind-of off-kilter.

The balance of the Universe was restored a few seconds later when the door slammed open and three armed gunmen burst in, holding AK-47s. A fourth joined them once we had raised our hands. All of them wore masks but the fourth one removed his when he saw Gyandeep and the chief.

‘Ah, Jacob!’ Gyandeep said, dropping his hands. One of the gunmen was about to object when Jacob stopped him. Gyandeep walked over to Jacob. ‘What took you so long?’

The explosions inside his shoulder finally roused Qureshi and he rolled to his side, groaning as he felt the clot grind against his skin. Sitting upright, he checked his torso for further damages and was relieved to note that the armour had protected him. Whoever it was had fired a three-round burst, and two of those had been stopped – just barely – by the Kevlar he was wearing. The third had punched through his arm just beyond the shoulder-straps of the armour.

He was lucky to be alive, though he certainly did not feel that way. He coughed up some blood again and spat it out, feeling his lungs clear a little. Every breath he took reminded him painfully of the fact that he had almost been stopped from taking it.

He counted to ten before he got up into a crouch and walked over to the gate, peering out in both directions. He saw an armed gunman on each side, both of them staring up at the burning roof of one of the buildings. Qureshi smiled grimly – he had warned Jagannath the day after the raid on the safe-house that the headquarters had its own vulnerabilities.
Prophetic.

Just as he was about to take aim at one of them, he heard a whistle. Both gunmen turned to their right immediately and Qureshi pulled back just before anyone caught sight of him.

‘
Idhar!
’ he heard someone shout.

He pressed himself into the recess behind the opening and waited until he had heard the footsteps cross him before he risked peeking around the edge. A third attacker had joined them, he saw, and was waiting for the one walking towards them.

Qureshi was computing the chances of taking on all three of them with a quick full-clip burst from his H&K MP5 when he saw the third attacker whip a knife out of his hand and stabbed the one closest to him. The man who had moved towards them from Qureshi’s left froze for an instant and that was all that the attacker needed.

Quick as a snake, he threw the belt of his AK-47 over the other man and rotated the gun, creating a basic – and just as effectively deadly – version of a noose. He pushed the other man back and turned him around before kneeing him in the back and knocking him to the ground, the belt still pulled tight against his neck. Before his victim could recover, he slammed the palm of his hand against the back of the skull.

The fight went out of the man. His body relaxed. He was out for the count.

Qazi stood up and felt the first wave of revulsion hit him. He stared at the two bodies at his feet, at least one of them definitely dead. He did a quick mental count to distract himself. The two here, plus the two he had knocked out just a few minutes ago, and the four he had sent to tangle with the snipers . . . one more left. Qazi asked himself if it was worth the time and effort to take that terrorist out of the equation as well.

Just walk away
, he thought.
No one will stop you.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Whatever they had hit, he was sure it was a civilian location – and that meant unarmed people, ordinary citizens who had nothing to do with him. Who had never meant him harm, never even knew he existed, probably did not even care because it meant nothing to them. But he could decide their fate, and doing nothing sometimes was the same as doing irreparable harm. So he cared. Enough not to be able to walk away.

And that meant that he had to put the final jihadi out of action as well. He didn’t want to risk leaving a gunman behind who could pick him off from a well-entrenched spot on his way out. It also meant the window of opportunity that he had created for himself was drawing to a close with each passing second.

He had taken a couple of steps towards the gate when he saw the other man. They pointed their guns at each other at the same time.

‘It’s wonderful when a plan comes together as designed, isn’t it?’ Gyandeep asked the chief. ‘Look at this. Did I not promise you that I would have all these people lined up and ready to pay for their crimes?’

The chief did not look as pleased as I would have expected him to. He cast a furtive glance at Jacob who, in turn, seemed to be focusing on Llong. I looked at Llong too, catching him just at that instant when he realized that there was something familiar about Jacob.

‘And look! We’ve even got the president here. Jacob, you should give me a cut this time – look how easy I’ve made it for you. Shoot him, now. Come on, shoot him.’

I watched GK stagger back in shock as Jacob calmly removed a handgun from its holster and attach a silencer to it. ‘What do you need a silencer for?’ Gyandeep asked, the pitch of his voice higher now. Jacob shot him a look that spoke volumes. ‘Okay,’ Gyandeep said, holding up a hand. ‘Your business.’

Just as Jacob cocked the pistol, Gyandeep added, ‘Just so we are all clear on this, this – the whole bloodshed thing – is for my niece Leela.’

‘You are with the Army.’

‘And you are a terrorist.’

Qazi was about to disagree when he stopped himself. What
was
he, really? A moment later, he shook himself free of that thought. This was no time for such profound self-evaluations – any moment now, someone on the roofs above would notice the bodies he’d left behind. In fact, he was surprised it hadn’t happened already.

‘Get behind cover,’ Qazi said instead. ‘There are snipers on those roofs.’

Qureshi did not turn around. His body was adjusting to its wounds, helping him maintain a steady hand. The shoulder continued to sting, but it was no longer the debilitating pain it had been. ‘Why are you taking out your own men?’

Making a snap decision, Qazi lowered his weapon. ‘I promised someone I’d try to stop this attack if possible.’

Recognition dawned on Qureshi’s face. ‘You’re Qazi. The one who passed us the tip about the airport today.’

Qazi gave a self-deprecating laugh. ‘Yes. Although right now, I am not sure that’s the best of my references.’

There was a thud on the ground between them as the gravel exploded, followed barely a second later by the sharp crack of a rifle. As Qureshi jumped to the side, Qazi brought the sight of his gun up and fired off a short burst where the shot seemed to have come from.

Qureshi scrambled for cover behind the walls, impossible for any of the snipers to tag him – there was no angle from any point at all. He waved to Qazi frantically. ‘Come on,’ he shouted, his fingertips checking the weapon to ensure that it was still on full-auto. ‘I’ll cover you.’

Raghav Menon made his way up the stairs carefully, the rubber soles of his shoes an invaluable asset in that regard. He was glad he did not have to worry about his back – or six backs, as his military instructors had taught him – because the two floors aboveground had already been re-secured by his colleagues from the underground floors. Four terrorists – dead ones – were accounted for, but no one was sure how
many had actually passed through, and therefore, he did not know how many were waiting for him on the top floor.

‘I had nothing to do with Leela’s death,’ the president said.

‘
We
had nothing to do with Leela’s death,’ Nelson amended. ‘We thought you had stormed our safe-house and she was killed in the crossfire.’

Gyandeep’s face was red with rage as he turned on the director of INSAF. ‘You are lying,’ he said, the mask of bonhomie stripped off completely. I was more than a little concerned that he was insane – I was half-expecting him to do an Amrish Puri laugh anytime now.

Death’s funny that way. When you are staring at it, you tend to pretend you aren’t.

‘No,’ said Jagannath, taking a step forward. ‘Nelson’s right. That’s why we had Llong brought here. He was there in the safe-house. He saw everything that happened. Llong, tell him.’

And Llong did, before anyone could cut him off. He was very clear with his account of that day, almost too clear, and the story was incredible to the point of incredulity. I would have dismissed it as a very clever piece of fiction – or acting – if I hadn’t noticed the chief’s face with each passing revelation.

Gyandeep, predictably enough, refused to believe him when he was done. His look was one of pure contempt as he turned to Nelson and told him, ‘You must think I am an imbecile to swallow a load of crap like that.’

‘Llong is not lying,’ Sir Harold answered for Nelson. ‘In fact, I had him take a lie-detector test at our place before I even started checking the veracity of what he told me.’

‘You are telling me that someone else took advantage of the fact that you had her in your custody? We don’t have a common enemy, Mr Katara. In fact, except for INSAF, no one else would be stupid enough to come up against us.’

‘Jacob was there that night,’ Llong said suddenly, startling all of us with that unexpected revelation. ‘I will never forget that face.’

Before any of us could react, Jacob aimed his gun at Llong. He would have pulled the trigger if Gyandeep hadn’t intervened. ‘Lower your weapon, Jacob. LOWER it!’ His command had the effect of a whip. Jacob complied with poor grace.

‘Is that true, Jacob?’ Gyandeep asked in a lower voice, the menace unmistakable, turning on his assassin. The other three terrorists continued to train their guns on us, making sure that we behaved.

Time slowed down for all of us in that room. So slow, in fact, that no one missed the quick look that darted between the chief and Jacob. And in that one look, the link – and the guilt – was obvious.

His face was like an open book at that instant. The darkness of confusion, then the sunrise of understanding and finally, the blaze of his fury. No one was surprised when Gyandeep reached for the weapon in Jacob’s hand.

There was a muted cough.

Gyandeep staggered back, clutching his abdomen, his mouth open in a silent scream that never came.

Jacob pulled the trigger again and the impact of the bullet threw Gyandeep against the table in the centre of the room. He sank to the ground, still staring with disbelief at his own mortality.

And for the first time since I had laid eyes on him, the chief smiled.

Raghav took out the two terrorists on the top floor without much fuss and then spent a few minutes making sure that there were no nasty surprises. He had wanted to stay back and help get everyone to safety but Jagannath had pointed out that Raghav would be much more useful clearing an alternate route for evacuation.

Before heading downstairs, Raghav decided to clear the roof as well, just in case they needed to get a military or a medevac chopper down. He had just stepped outside when a glint caught his eye.

‘Jacob, let’s go,’ the chief said.

Jacob nodded.

Someone knocked on the door.

Qureshi and Qazi held their breath and waited on either side of the door. A trail of blood marked their progress from the entrance to where they stood, testament to the fact that Qazi hadn’t been able to outrun the bullet that was now lodged inside his leg. Qureshi, glancing at his new partner, wondered if the bullet would eventually prove fatal, either directly if a major blood vessel had been hit or by slowing him down during the next run. He had to grant the ex-terrorist’s claim for toughness though. The only indication that you could glean from Qazi himself that he had been hurt was a slight limp.

Qazi stretched his hand forward to knock again but Qureshi shook his head. They had heard the voices, knew that everyone was still inside and more importantly, no one had started firing yet. Why spook them unnecessarily?

Qazi shrugged, leaned forward and whispered, ‘It’s Qazi. We have problems.’

Jacob hesitated. How could Qazi have discovered where they were? None of the jihadis were privy to the layout inside the headquarters – he had intended it that way from the start.