PRIMAL Mirza (A PRIMAL Series Novella) (11 page)

CHAPTER 18

As he got into the tuk-tuk, Mirza
glanced back at the NSG compound. He was worried they had made a powerful
enemy.

Himesh
slid in next to him. “Prasad is a fucking arrogant fool.”

“And
a dangerous one at that.” He’d never seen Himesh this outraged.

Atal looked back at them. “Where to, mister?”

“The
hotel.” Mirza turned to his partner. “What’s the plan?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Should we call headquarters?”

He shook his head. “No, they made clear this was NSG’s lead even
though they’re useless. Seriously, fuck all this bureaucracy. We ought to let
these jihadi bastards blow something up to teach everyone a lesson.” He thumped
the side of the tuk-tuk in frustration.

“Hey, not so rough. Just got this back from the shop,” Atal snapped
as he merged with the heavy midday traffic.

Mirza stared out into the mass of scooters, taxis, cars, and buses.
There were so many they were barely moving. “We still aren’t sure what their
target is.”

“Target?” Atal asked.

“Yes. What bug-eyes and his exploding friends plan to attack,” said
Himesh.

“That’s easy.
Everyone’s at the cricket today.
That’s where I would go.”

The SPEC-B operatives looked at each other in disbelief. “Why didn’t
we see it?” Mirza asked.

“Thousands of people jammed into a stadium. Atal, get us to the
hotel now!”

Mirza wrapped his arm around the side bar and prayed as Atal jerked
the tiny three-wheeled cab off the road, bounced over the gutter, and tore down
the medium strip at full throttle.

***

Karim frowned at Neeraj’s driver.
“Constantly honking won’t make them move. Find another way.”

The
man shook his head. “It would take us too long.”

Swearing,
Karim opened his door and jumped out of the van. At the sight of his police
uniform the crowds shuffled to the sides. “Out of the way, police business!” He
waved the van forward as he pushed his way through.

His
phone buzzed. It was a message from his man tailing the lawyer.

Restaurant at Imperial Hotel
.

No doubt she whored herself out to
businessmen and politicians, he thought. With any luck, he’d kill a few during
the snatch.

He
still had to pick up the suicide bombers, drop them at the stadium, and then
get across town to the Imperial. He checked his watch. Fuck! He was behind
schedule. “Move, you fools,” he bellowed.

CHAPTER 19

Mirza jammed his Glock
into the holster beneath his shirt. “Atal, stay hidden and keep watch on
Neeraj’s compound. Anything happens, call us.”

Once they got the boy’s assurance he understood, they took off and
raced through the alleys and lanes to the police post. As Himesh pounded on the
police station’s side door, Mirza caught his breath. He could run for miles in
the mountains, yet gasped for air after a few blocks in this polluted city.

The tall, turban-wearing policeman opened the door and motioned them
inside.

“Ranbir, isn’t it?” Himesh asked.

“Yes, sir. What’s going on? Did you find the boy?”

“Yes, we found him. Now we need help. Are you the only one here?”

“The others are at the cricket ground.”

“Damn! I guess it’s just me and you, Mirza.”

Ranbir looked puzzled. “Just you for what?”

“We’ve located a terrorist group here in Chandni Chowk,” Himesh
said.

“What, where?”

“The criminal Neeraj’s compound. We think they’re going to hit the
stadium this afternoon.”

The policeman stood slack jawed as he processed the statement.

Mirza gestured to the weapons safe tucked under the desk. “We can’t
ask you to abandon your post. But we could do with some extra firepower.”

“What’s the plan?”

“We’ll watch the
compound. If it looks like they’re leaving we’ll stop them.”

“What about the Black Cats?”

Himesh shook his head. “Long story, at this stage they’re not
interested. If we can contain the terrorists that will change.”

“OK.” Ranbir grabbed a key off a hook near the door and unlocked the
old safe. He removed two Sterling submachine guns and handed one to Mirza. “I
can let you borrow one of these.”

“Only one?” asked Himesh.

“Yes. I’ll be using this one,” he said, loading his weapon.

Himesh gave the tall police officer a friendly punch to the
shoulder. “Good stuff! I’m going to call you Ranbo.”

Grinning, Mirza loaded the
Sterling
and racked its action. “Three is better than two.”

Himesh’s phone buzzed. He answered the call, listened a few seconds,
then snapped it shut. “That was Atal. There’s a white van parked in front of
the safe house. We have to go now!”

As they charged through the streets, Mirza noticed bystanders with
shocked stares, some making phone calls. With the tall policeman and the
automatic weapons, they were drawing a lot of attention.

“Every criminal in the slum is going to be tipped off if we don’t
hurry,” Himesh said.

“I’ve got an idea.” Mirza held up his hand. “Quick into this shop.”

They entered the clothing store. A moment later, three figures
dressed in black burkas appeared.

“I feel ridiculous,” said Himesh.

Ranbir laughed. “But it’s perfect. I can hide my weapon and don’t
look like a cop.”

Mirza glanced at him. The full-body Islamic dress was a bit short
for the tall Sikh and his black police
boots
stuck out
of the bottom. But he was right; there was ample room to hide the
Sterling
submachine gun in the folds.

They continued through the markets and down the street that led to
the sector that housed Neeraj’s compound. Nearing it, they slipped into a lane
and Himesh phoned Atal.

A minute later, the street urchin appeared, took one look and
howled. “You look like ladies!”

“What’s the situation?” Himesh asked.

“A shitty van just turned up. A cop guards out front.”

“A cop?”

“Not a real cop. One of the Pakis dressed up. Got a big gun.”

“Any sign of the actual police or NSG?”

“No.”

Himesh checked the chamber on his Glock. “Fuck, they’re about to launch.
We’ve got to stop them getting into that van. If we can hold them off NSG will
be forced to act. Mirza, you’re on point. Atal you stay back and keep watch.”

***

Al-Jahiz met Karim in
the courtyard. “Look at them,” he murmured, tilting his head at two of Neeraj’s
men wearing blood splattered clothing, seated in the corner smoking.

“Pigs. We’ll be done with them soon, the van’s out the front.”

He glanced back at the men smoking in the corner. “Have you seen
Neeraj?”

Karim whispered, “He’s hiding out back. Have you noticed he’s been
acting strange?”

“What do you mean?”

“I think he’s avoiding us.”

Al-Jahiz’s bug-eyes narrowed. “Maybe we need to have a chat with
him.”

Karim shook his head, his chins wobbling with each movement. “No
time. We have to strike now.”

“I’ve half a mind to shoot that snake before we leave.” Al-Jahiz
entered the safe house and climbed to the second floor. Opening the door to the
makeshift mosque, he
smiled at the
four men kneeling on their prayer mats. They looked up at him, eyes bright with
religious fervor, dressed ready to go in their explosive vests. “Today is your
day, my brothers. Today you will earn your place in paradise.” He glanced at
Karim who was standing with one of his kidnap team. Both were in their police
uniforms and carrying AKs.

Karim nodded, letting him know they were ready.

Al-Jahiz stepped forward. “Now, stand warriors of Allah. It is time
to make the Indians bleed.” He hugged each man, then whipped off his robe and
revealed his police uniform. “Today we avenge our brothers and sow fear amongst
the infidel. The roar of our anger will be heard from one end of the country to
the other. We are Allah’s lions. Today is our day.”

***

Prasad was dressed from
head to toe in his black tactical outfit. A cigarette dangled from the corner
of his mouth, a
MP5
submachine gun hung from a sling over his shoulder. He leaned against a
table, watching his twenty-man assault platoon run checks on their equipment.
Two black armored assault vehicles waited outside.

They had forward positioned to the Jama Masjid police station, only
a few minutes from both the cricket stadium and Neeraj’s compound. Behind him
the platoon’s commander studied a map of the local area while monitoring the
radio network. Roshan was standing in the corner with a cell phone pressed to
his ear.

The ‘short notice exercise’ was not outside the norm for the assault
platoon. They’d conducted a similar activity a month earlier with the force
held at the highest level of readiness, complete with live ammunition and
explosives.

“Are you ready to brief me on your plan?” Prasad asked the platoon
commander.

“Yes, sir. We’ve developed both contingencies as requested.”

“Very good.”

Roshan snapped his cell phone shut. “Boss, I need you for a second.”

They moved to an empty corner. “What is it?”

“My team’s reported a van parked in front of Neeraj’s compound. It’s
guarded by a cop armed with an AK.”

Sneering, Prasad dropped his cigarette on the floor and stubbed it
out with his boot. “Ah. The local cops are making some cash on the side. We’d
better move fast before they take out the bad guys,” he added sarcastically.

Roshan laughed. “I think it’s safe to assume the terrorists are
dressed as cops.”

“I concur. Are the police at the stadium armed with anything more
than pistols?”

“No, boss.”

“Good. That’ll make them easier to identify. Any sign of our two
Special Group pests?”

“Negative. The boys running surveillance haven’t been able to find
them since they took off in that tuk-tuk.”

“What about that piece of shit, Neeraj? Anything from him?”

“No, boss, nothing.”

Prasad tapped a fresh cigarette from a packet in his tactical vest.
“Once we deal with this, I’m going to crush that roach once and for all.”

CHAPTER 20

Mirza’s pulse quickened
as the anticipation of first contact with the enemy grew. His grip tightened on
the submachine gun hidden in the folds of his burka. Slow down, walk more like
a woman, he reminded. When he was a few feet from the terrorist at the van, he
whipped the gun up. “Hey!”

The uniformed terrorist turned toward the gravelly voice. Wide-eyed
surprise flashed across his face at the sight of a burka.

Mirza lunged forward and punched the
muzzle of the sterling into his face. The man’s eyes rolled up into his head.

As he collapsed sideways to the ground,
the orange gate swung open and another two khaki-clad terrorists appeared.
Himesh’s Glock barked twice. The first man’s head exploded. Blood and grey
matter painted the wall behind him. The second raised his AK and fired an
instinctive burst shattering the van’s windows.

Ranbir’s submachine gun chattered, blowing chunks out of the open
wooden gate forcing the gunman back into the laneway.

Mirza darted forward and angled for a shot down the alley. It was
empty. The terrorist had withdrawn inside. “I’m covering.” He unclipped the
metal stock on the Sterling and held it tight against his shoulder.

Himesh strode to the terrorist Mirza had knocked unconscious and
shot him in the head. He knelt and inspected the dead man’s vest. The explosive
trigger was tucked into one of the front pouches. “They’re wearing bang. It’s
not armed but you can bet the rest will be.”

He holstered his Glock
and picked the dropped AK off the street. He checked it was loaded, tore off
his burka and stuffed a spare AK magazine into one of his pant pockets. “They
well and truly know we’re here. So unless you’re comfortable in your sharia
costume now’s the time to ditch it.”

***

“You’re not going to
believe this, boss. Three gunmen wearing burkas just took down a couple of terrorists
in front of Neeraj’s house.”

Prasad dropped the cigarette. “What the fuck? It has to be those
Special Group clowns.” He stormed to the map of New Delhi pinned to the platoon
commander’s planning board. “Listen the fuck up!” he bellowed. “We just
received real-time intelligence on an imminent terrorist attack. This is not an
exercise. I say again, this is not an exercise!”

Every man froze.

“We’re going to roll now. We hit a terrorist safe house located
here.” He stabbed the map with his finger. “The hostiles are dressed in stolen
police uniforms and armed with assault rifles. I want every motherfucker in
that building dead!”

Roshan was right behind him. “Change radios to channel four. My
sniper team has over-watch on the building and will provide live commentary as
we approach. This is a crash action.”

The black-clad assaulters piled into the two waiting armored trucks.
Prasad sat in the front of the lead vehicle and secured the chinstrap on his
helmet.

Roshan climbed in the back, his phone pressed to his ear. “You’re
right, it’s them. They’re with a local cop.”

“Couldn’t leave it alone, could they?”

With a roar, the trucks shot out of the police compound. They
screamed up the emergency services lane for a hundred yards, turned right and
headed for Chandni Chowk.

They screeched to a halt. Prasad’s helmet smashed into the thick
glass. “What the fuck!”

“Traffic, sir. It’s backed up,” the driver said.

“Turn on the fucking sirens.”

Roshan leaned forward. “The three men have made entry into the
compound. What are your orders for the snipers?”

Prasad actioned his MP5.
“Kill anyone who
leaves that building.”

He relayed the order. “They can’t cover all the exits, boss. We need
to get a cordon in place before they bomb burst.”

“Then we better get a move on.” Prasad turned to the driver. “Unless
you want to be sweeping streets by the end of the day, get us to the FUCKING
TARGET!”

***

Al-Jahiz was in the
courtyard when Jawid ran from the gate shouting, “Omar is dead!” The Afghan
turned and fired his AK at the entrance trying to keep the intruders at bay.
Return fire ricocheted off the courtyard walls. The remaining terrorists joined
him with their weapons aimed at the laneway.

Al-Jahiz checked his AK and turned to Karim. “It’s the police.”

“Neeraj! He must’ve betrayed us.”

“Where’s that snake?”

Karim pointed to the staircase that ran from the courtyard up to the
roof. “There!”

Al-Jahiz looked up in time to see Neeraj and two of his cronies
escaping. “You treacherous fuck, you’re dead!”

“That’s the only way out. If we go now, we can still complete our
mission.”

“We’ll never make the stadium.”

“But we can get the woman. I’ve only lost one man. The time to
strike is now.” Karim lowered his voice. “Your fighters can cover us. Make
their stand here. Kill as many of the infidel as they can.”

Al-Jahiz turned his bug-eyes to his remaining men. They had trained
together for the last six months. How could he deny them the glory they
deserved?

A burst of automatic fire spurred him into action. “Brothers, you
will make your stand here.” He grasped Jawid’s shoulder. “Kill these police and
escape. You know where the markets are. Go there. Find a crowded spot. Kill as
many of the infidel as you can.”

Jawid shook his head. “No, we will kill these men first and complete
our mission at the stadium as planned. Now, you must leave.” He lifted his AK
to his shoulder and fired a burst at the gap on the other side of the
courtyard.

Al-Jahiz swiped tears from his eyes and faced Karim. “Lead the way.”