Line of Control (15 page)

    "Then I would be sure that this has not been in vain."

    She hugged him even tighter then patted his back, turned, and stepped through the tarp.

    

    Srinagar, Kashmir Wednesday, 10:00 p. m.

    Ron Friday was in his small room when the phone on the rickety night table rang. He opened his eyes and looked at his watch.

    Right on time.

    The phone was from the 1950s, a heavy black anvil of a thing with a thick brown cord. And it really rang rather than beeped. Friday was sitting on the bed; after sending the encoded message to Hank Lewis he had turned on the black and-white TV. An old movie was on. Even with English subtitles Friday had trouble following the plot. The fact that he kept dozing off did not help.

    Friday did not answer the phone on the first ring. Or the second. He did not pick up until the tenth ring. That was how he knew the caller was his Black Cat contact. Tenth ring at the tenth hour.

    The caller. Captain Prem Nazir, said he would meet Friday outside in fifteen minutes.

    Friday pulled on his shoes, grabbed his windbreaker, and headed down the single flight of stairs. There were only twelve rooms at Binoo's Palace, most of them occupied by market workers, women of questionable provenance, and men who rarely emerged from their rooms. Obviously, the police turned a blind eye to more than just the gaming parlor.

    The inn did not have much of a lobby. A reception desk was located to the left of the stairs. It was run by Binoo during the day and his sister at night. There was a Persian rug on a hardwood floor with battered sofas on either side.

    The windows looked out on the dark, narrow street. The smell of the potent, native-grown Juari cigarettes was thick here. The gaming parlor was located in a room behind the counter. A veil of smoke actually hung like a stage scrim behind Binoo's oblivious sister.

    The heavyset woman was leaning on the counter. She did not look up from her movie magazine as Friday came down.

    That was what he loved about this place. No one gave a damn.

    The lobby was empty. So was the street. Friday leaned against the wall and waited.

    Friday had never met the fifty-three-year-old Captain Nazir.

    Atomic Energy Minister Shankar knew him and put a lot of trust in him.

    Friday did not trust anyone, including Shankar.

    But Captain Nazir's extensive background in espionage, first behind the lines in Pakistan in the 1960s, then with the Indian army, and now with the National Security Guard, suggested that the two men might enjoy a good working relationship.

    Unless, that is, there were a problem between the NSG and the Special Frontier Force. That was the first order of business Friday intended to discuss with Nazir, even before they talked about the Striker mission to search for Pakistani nuclear missiles. Friday did not mind going on a sensitive mission for the Black Cats if they did not have the full trust and support of the government. Part of intelligence work was doing things without government approval. But he did mind going out if the Black Cats and the SFF were at war, if one group were looking to embarrass the other. A freeze-out of the NSG at the bomb site did not mean that was the case.

    But Friday wanted to be sure.

    Captain Nazir arrived exactly on schedule. He was strolling in no particular hurry with no apparent destination, and he was smoking a Juari. That was smart. The officer was up from New Delhi but he was not smoking one of the milder brands that was popular in the capital.

    The local cigarette would help him blend in with the surroundings.

    The officer was dressed in a plain gray sweatshirt, khaki slacks, and Nikes. He was about five-foot-seven with short black hair and a scar across his forehead. His skin was smooth and dark. He looked exactly like the photographs Friday had seen.

    Ron Friday obviously looked like his photographs as well.

    Captain Nazir did not bother to introduce himself. They would not say one another's names at all. There were still SFP personnel working in the bazaar. They might have set up electronic surveillance of the area to try to catch the bombers. If so, someone might overhear them.

    The officer simply offered Friday his hand and said in a low, rough voice, "Walk with me."

    The two men continued in the direction Captain Nazir had been headed, away from the main street, Shervani Road. The narrow side street where the inn was located was little more than an alley. There were dark shops on either side of the road. They sold items that did not usually turn up in the bazaar, like bicycles, men's suits, and small appliances. The street ended in a high brick wall about three hundred yards away.

    Nazir drew on the nub of his cigarette.

    "The minister thinks very highly of you." "Thanks," Friday said. He looked down and spoke very softly.

    "Tell me something. What happened today in the marketplace?"

    "I'm not sure," Nazir replied.

    "Would you tell me if you did?" Friday asked.

    "I'm not sure," Nazir admitted.

    "Why was the SFF handling the investigation instead of your people?"

    Friday asked.

    Nazir stopped walking. He retrieved a pack of cigarettes from under his sweatshirt and used one to light another. He looked at Friday in the glow of the newly lit cigarette.

    "I do not know the answer to that," the officer replied as he continued walking.

    "Let me point you in a direction," Friday said.

    "Does the SFF have special jurisdiction over Srinagar or religious targets?"

    "No," Nazir replied.

    "But their personnel were on the scene and your people were not," Friday repeated.

    "Yes," Nazir said.

    This was becoming frustrating. Friday stopped walking.

    He grabbed Nazir by the arm. The officer did not react.

    "Before I head north and risk my life, I need to know if there's a leak in your organization," Friday said.

    "Why would you think there is?" Nazir asked.

    "Because there was not a single Black Cat Commando at the scene," Friday told him.

    "Why else would you be shut out of the investigation except for security issues?"

    "Humiliation," Nazir suggested.

    "You have conflicts between your intelligence services. They go to great lengths to undermine one another even though you work toward the same goal."

    There was no disputing that, Friday thought. He had killed a CIA agent not long ago.

    "The truth is, the SFF has been extremely quiet about their activities of late and we have been quiet about our operations, including this one," Nazir went on.

    "Both groups have their allies in New Delhi and, eventually, all the intelligence we gather gets shuffled into the system and used."

    "Like a slaughterhouse," Friday observed.

    "A slaughterhouse," Nazir said. He nodded appreciatively.

    "I like that. I like it very much."

    "I'm glad," Friday replied.

    "Now tell me something I'm going to like. For example, why we should put ourselves into the hands of an intelligence agency that may be risking our lives to boost their own standing in New Delhi?"

    "Is that what you think?" Nazir asked.

    "I don't know," Friday replied.

    "Convince me otherwise."

    "Do you know anything about Hinduism?" Nazir asked Friday.

    "I'm familiar with the basics," Friday replied. He had no idea what that had to do with anything.

    "Do you know that Hinduism is not the name we use for our faith. It's something the West invented."

    "I didn't know that," Friday admitted.

    "We are countless sects and castes, all of which have their own names and very different views of the Veda, the holy text," Nazir said.

    "The greatest problem we have as a nation is that we carry our factionalism into government. Everyone defends his own unit or department or consulate as if it were his personal faith. We do this without considering how our actions affect the whole. I am guilty of that too. My 'god," if you will, is the one who can help me get things done. Not necessarily the one who can do the best job for India." He drew on his cigarette.

    "The tragedy is that the whole is now threatened with destruction and we are still not pulling together.

    We need more intelligence on Pakistan's nuclear threat. We cannot go and get that information ourselves for fear of triggering the very thing we are trying to avoid-a nuclear exchange. You and your group are the only ones who can help us." Nazir regarded Friday through the twisting smoke of his cigarette.

    "If you are still willing to undertake this mission I will be the point man for you. I will go as far into the field as I can with maps, clearances, and geographical reconnaissance. The minister and I will make certain that no one interferes with your activities. He does not know the men who are coming from Washington but he has enormous respect for you. He considers you a member of 'his' sect.

    That is more than simply an honor. It means that in future undertakings of your own you will be able to call on him.

    To him the members of his team come before anything. But we must secure the intelligence we need to ensure that the team continues. The American force is going in anyway. I am here to make sure that you are still willing to go with them. I hope to be able to report that back to the minister."

    Friday did not believe any man who claimed to put the good of the team before his own good. A minister who was running a secret operation with the Black Cats was looking to strengthen his ties to the intelligence community and build his power base. If he could spy on Pakistan today he might spy on the SFP or the prime minister tomorrow.

    The fact that a politician might have personal ambition did not bother Friday. He had heard what Captain Nazir was really saying. Minister Shankar wanted Friday to go with Striker to make sure that the Americans were working for India and not just for Washington. And if Friday did undertake this mission he would have a highly placed ally in the Indian government.

    The men reached the brick wall at the end of the street and Nazir lit another cigarette. Then they turned around and started walking back to the inn. Nazir was looking down. He had obviously said what he had come to say. Now it was up to Friday.

    "You still haven't convinced me that there isn't a leak in your organization," Friday said.

    "How do I know we won't go out there and find ourselves ass-deep in Pakistanis?"

    "You may," Nazir granted.

    "That is why we cannot go ourselves. As for leaks, I know everyone in the Black Cats.

    We have not been betrayed in the past. Beyond that, I cannot give the assurances you ask for." Nazir smiled for the first time.

    "It is even possible that someone in Washington has leaked this to the Pakistanis. There is always danger in our profession. The only question is whether the rewards are worth the risks. We believe they are, for us-and for you."

    That sounded very much like an introductory lecture from a guru at an ashram. But then, Friday should have expected that.

    "All right," Friday said.

    "I'm in-with one condition."

    "And that is?"

    "I want to know more about today's attack," Friday said.

    "Something about it is not sitting right."

    "Can you tell me exactly what is bothering you?" Nazir asked.

    "The fact that the attacker detonated two separate charges to bring down the police station and the temple," Friday said.

    "There was no reason for that. One large explosion would have accomplished the same thing. And it would have been easier to set."

    Nazir nodded.

    "I've been wondering about that myself. All right. I'll see what I can find out and I will let you know when we are together again-which will be tomorrow around noon. We can meet here and then go to lunch. I will bring the materials I'll be turning over to your team."

    "Fair enough," Friday said.

    The men reached the inn. Friday regarded the captain.

    "One more question," Friday said.

    "Of course."

    "Why didn't you offer me a cigarette?" Friday asked.

    "Because you don't smoke," Nazir replied.

    "Did the minister tell you that?" "No," Nazir told him.

    "You checked up on me, then," Friday said.

    "Asked people I've worked with about my habits and potential weaknesses." "That's right," Nazir told him.

    "So you didn't entirely trust the minister's judgment about bringing me onboard," Friday pointed out.

    Nazir smiled again.

    "I said I knew everyone in the Black Cats. The minister is not one of my commandoes."

    "I see," Friday replied.

    "That was still sloppy. You told me something about yourself, your methods, who you trust.

    That's something a professional shouldn't do."

    "You're right," Nazir replied evenly.

    "But how do you know I wasn't testing you to see if you'd notice what I did?"

    The captain offered his hand.

    "Good night."

    "Good night," Friday said. He felt the flush of embarrassment and a trace of doubt as he shook Nazir's hand.

    The Black Cat Commando turned then and walked into the night, trailing a thick cloud of smoke behind him.

    

    Alconbury, Great Britain Wednesday, 7:10 p. m.