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Authors: Mukul Deva

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BOOK: SALIM MUST DIE
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The glance seemed to trigger some release valve inside Segan's head, snapping him out of his shocked reverie. He turned abruptly, and began to run. Weaving through the crowd, he headed straight towards the Fairgrounds Racing Track. The blood in his veins began to pound harshly and the distance between him and Langer increased as his stride lengthened. As Erik ran, his beloved guitar fell away and his free right hand reached into the knapsack slung over his other shoulder. Grabbing the largest can he could lay his hands on, he drew it out of the knapsack. As he ran, he began to unscrew the timer cap so that he could release the virus manually.

Langer and the cop, who was by now totally shaken and confused, saw Segan break into a run. The tableau was still frozen in their minds when a frantic woman darted between them. Using that momentary distraction, Langer decided on his immediate priority and, bolting into the thick of the crowd, began to race after the fleeing fugitive who was fast receding into the crowd. The time for finesse was long gone.

By the time Segan reached the Gentilly Pedestrian entrance to the Jazz Fest, he had managed to arm the first can and was trying to arm a second one. Freeing it from the knapsack, he finished unscrewing the timer. Then he stopped to face the man chasing him. Chanting his final prayer, Segan waited for his enemy to come within striking range.

O Allah, you are my Lord. There is none worthy of worship except You. I rely upon You. You are the Great Lord of the Throne. Whatever God wills happens and whatever He does not will does not happen. There is no power or strength….

There was no longer any fear on his face or in his heart.

The hunted had become the hunter.

All around him, a frenzied crowd swirled.

Sprinting up the road, Langer suddenly shuddered to a stop, his chest heaving from the exercise. Open-mouthed with amazement, he saw that the subject had stopped and was calmly waiting for him.

Karl stood Christ-like with both his hands extended outwards and slightly upwards. The sound of his harsh chanting rose above the hullabaloo of the crowd and filled the air. In both hands he held long metallic spray cans. Both cans pointed towards the sky.

Remember!
Mai Hu's instruction came back to Erik Segan as his fingers closed on the release knobs.
The aerosol is heavier than air, so if you spray it upwards, it will be better dispersed by the breeze and will cover a larger spread on the ground.

Langer had no clue what the subject was holding in his hands, or what he was trying to do. He just knew that he had been repeatedly warned to approach with extreme caution. He had just seen his partner fall, albeit to friendly fire. His mind was already too cluttered to absorb any more. The weird man with the weird cans in his hands and chanting a weird, prayer-like chant drove him beyond the purview of cohesive thought. Closing up to Erik Segan, he drew his gun, aimed straight at his head and fired.

The heavy, leaden slug covered the remaining few feet between the two adversaries and smashed the contented expression off Segan's face. As the death dealer fell, the release buttons of both cans remained firmly pressed.

Unknown to Langer and unseen by anyone, the deadly Variola Major virus from both aerosol cans slid silently out into the atmosphere. It wafted away in the lively breeze, and settled amongst the panicked maze of people milling around. Some of it settled on Langer as he walked up to the fallen terrorist and began to check him for weapons and any sign of life. The deadly Variola virus wormed its way into his nostrils and entered his body. He did not know it then, of course. Just as he did not know that twelve days later, he would be one of the first people to die. So would his wife and the teenage daughter he doted on, who would pick up the dreaded disease from him.

But that would happen later. Much later. Before that, many more people were destined to die. Salim's killing spree had just begun.

Strike Two

U
RUMQI
S
PECIAL
W
EAPONS
F
ACILITY
, C
HINA

THE GRIM, UNIFORMLY GRAY COMPLEX COMPRISED OVER THIRTY
large buildings. A sixteen-foot high double fence of barbed wire stood sentinel between the complex and the surrounding areas. The complex itself appeared like an ungainly duckling in the midst of a Macbethean heath, starkly devoid of any growth or vegetation. On all four points of the compass were tall towers manned by grim looking guards. Machine guns stared ominously from the shaded tops.

Most of the buildings in the inner cordon were linked by a series of tunnel like paths, quite like the tentacles of an octopus. A large part of the inner complex lay almost a hundred feet below the ground, safe from prying eyes and almost any kind of bomb that a potential adversary might throw at it. And rightly so, since the chemicals and viruses stored there were dangerous beyond belief. If they ever got free, the havoc they unleashed would outdo any damage that any bomb could do. On the surface, at the edge of the inner compound, was situated the main conference hall, which was used for all large facility meetings and presentations.

The conference that had been scheduled by Mai before his departure for Delhi, was due to begin. However, in the wake of Mai's death, the conference had little to do with the agenda that had been set by him; it was about Mai himself. Maybe that was why people started trickling into the conference hall well before the stipulated time. The hubbub of unsubstantiated rumours and mindless chatter filled the long rectangular room. Most of them were still trying to fully understand what had happened. Despite the discovery of explosives in the primary lab and the specimen storage areas, and the totally shocking end to Mai's wife, no one was quite clear exactly what had transpired, mainly because of the MSS-ordered clampdown on all information. The only thing they knew for sure was that new and far more suffocating security procedures had been inflicted on the facility since then.


LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, SETTLE DOWN PLEASE
.’
MAI'S
erstwhile deputy, who was now officiating as the Facility Director, finally called the meeting to order. It took several loud and very unscientific yells for people to take their seats. By then the conference was already twenty minutes behind schedule.

However, the electronic timers on the large aerosol cans came alive exactly on schedule. Mai had taped these cans inside the air-conditioning ducts that led into the conference hall.

Activated by the timers, the release valves of both cans opened with a silent snap and the thick oily vapour began to trickle out. The VX Gas ventured out of the aerosol containers into the ducts. Swept along by the conditioned air, it was delivered into the room through a vent located at the upper end of the wall running along the left side of the conference hall.

The result was almost instantaneous and absolutely spectacular.

The seven men and two women occupying the seats along the wall were senior researchers and key players in the Chinese chemical weapons development program. In fact, some of them had been actively involved in the design and development of the timer-activated aerosol cans lying in the air-conditioning duct just seven feet above them.

All nine of them began to gag and choke almost simultaneously. Faces contorted in agony and muffled shrieks erupted as, one by one, they toppled like ninepins. Blood and faeces spewed out as their bowels went out of control.

The panic exploded through the room as those seated in close proximity to the afflicted moved forward to help. All of them died in a similar fashion, within minutes.

Then the fear hit like one gigantic screaming wave and people rushed wildly towards the exit. Not many made it out alive.

By the time some semblance of sanity was restored, and the room was sealed and the air-conditioning system shut down, the deadly VX released in the central conference hall and the primary laboratory had taken out most of the senior scientists and administrators of the facility.

An hour later, a total lock down of the facility was firmly in place.

Nothing moves in or out. Not till the containment people have scoured the place from top to bottom.

Given the secrecy that afflicted the Chinese regime, not even a hint of the disaster that had struck down their top-secret biochem facility reached the media, domestic or international. But the truth was that, in one fell swoop, Mai's strike had eliminated over fifty-three people, and had set the Chinese biochem program back by at least a decade.

Strike Three

N
EEMRANA
F
ORT
P
ALACE

BARRING HAMEED WHO, LIKE MOST KIDS HIS AGE, WOKE UP
early on Sundays and school holidays, the holiday makers at Neemrana were all fast asleep when Yakub Khan awoke. For the first time in many years he came awake instantly and sprang out of bed with alacrity. His head was clear and, despite the pangs of anxiety starting up inside him, he was eagerly looking forward to the next few hours.

‘Good morning, abbu!’ Hameed greeted his father with a big smile and a bigger hug. ‘Can I watch television?’ he asked with the innocent guile of the young.

‘No, Hameed!’ Yakub replied softly with a laugh. ‘Not so early in the morning.’

‘Then what should I do? I'm bored.’

‘Come.’ Yakub beckoned. ‘I'll give you a bath and get you ready. Then you can go out and play.’

‘No, thanks.’ Hameed shrugged, an exasperated, exaggerated gesture. ‘I'd rather sleep.’ He shoved his head back under the covers. Yakub gave a fond laugh.
Kids! All the same
. Shaking his head, he headed into the bathroom.
The faster I go, the faster I can get back
.

Hameed waited till he heard his father lock the bathroom door from inside. Then, reaching over to the bedside table, he picked up his father's mobile phone, switched it on, muted the volume and happily began to play Snake. He was still at it when he heard Yakub at the bathroom door. Quickly flipping the lid closed, Hameed put the phone back on the table and put his head back under the bedcover as his father emerged from the toilet.

The phone was still powered on. And it was sending a steady, continuous signal towards the cellular phone tower two kilometres away.

ATTF OPS R
OOM
, N
EW
D
ELHI

CHAUHAN WAS CONFERRING WITH A DOZEN LIEUTENANTS
on a dozen phones when the SIGINT (Signals Intelligence) man exploded into the room.

‘We have a lead on him,’ he yelled excitedly.

‘Who?’ Chauhan asked irritably.

‘Yakub Khan, sir,’ the man replied, a little more calmly.

‘Yakub Khan. What!’ Chauhan's irritation vapourised into excitement. ‘Where….’

‘His mobile phone just came on, sir. It has been tracked to a hotel in Neemrana. We have a live track running on it.’

‘Fantastic!’ Chauhan reached for the nearest phone. ‘What are the closest resources we have to Neemrana?’

‘Only the local cops. Otherwise our closest dedicated assets are either at Jaipur or closer home at Gurgaon.’

‘Okay, get me the Neemrana SHO.
Now
!’

‘Let me get him on the line and call you back, sir.’ Seven minutes later. ‘Sir, Inspector Meena is on the line. He is located just two kilometres from the Neemrana Fort Palace hotel.’

The inspector was still groggy with sleep when Chauhan began to speak. It took Chauhan's first two sentences to jolt him awake rudely and fully.

Eleven minutes later, Inspector Meena was on his way to the hotel with the two cops he had hauled out of the police chowki closest to his house.

Despite the early hour, and the fact that all three cops had been unceremoniously pulled out of bed minutes ago, they were all armed. And they had just been given the license to kill. Chauhan had been clear about that.

Find him! Take him down! Dead or alive, I really don't care. Though if you do manage to take him alive, I will personally ensure you get the President's medal and at least one out-of-turn promotion.

That was why all the three cops were not only armed, they were motivated and raring to go. And such men are dangerous.

YAKUB THREW A GLANCE AT THE CLOCK ON THE WALL AS HE
exited the bathroom.
It's already six-fifty. I need to move fast, otherwise I'll be hitting the rush hour traffic all the way from the Gurgaon border to Nehru Place.
Throwing on his clothes, he grabbed the car keys and his mobile phone from the bedside table, and hurried out. A few minutes later, he was on his way. The Tata Safari had barely left the resort and turned towards the Jaipur-Delhi highway when the posse led by Inspector Meena hurtled up to the hotel entrance and screeched to a halt. Getting hold of the receptionist and prying the required information out of him took up a few more valuable minutes.


WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU MISSED HIM?’ CHAUHAN
was beside himself with rage when the call came in. Then, controlling his anger and frustration, he took a deep breath. ‘Can you at least give me the details of his vehicle?’ He noted the colour and registration number that Inspector Meena had gleaned from the hotel staff. ‘Did you meet his family or go to his room?’

‘No, sir,’ Meena replied. ‘I didn't want to alert them that anything was amiss. They would have called him on his cell otherwise.’

‘Good thinking!’ Chauhan heaved a sigh of relief as he cut the call and turned to the SIGINT man. ‘Where is he now?’

‘We have him on the highway, sir. He is heading for Delhi. Should I get the Gurgaon people to send a team out for him? They can intercept him on the highway.’

‘No! Wait….’ Chauhan turned back. ‘Where are the Force 22 officers right now?’ he asked the second aide.

‘They're operating out of the NSG base at Manesar, so I guess they should be there now. Should I check?’ He got on the phone when Chauhan nodded. ‘All four of them are there,’ the man said, a moment later. ‘The call is being transferred to them.’

‘Great! Let me handle it now.’ Chauhan took the phone, and when Squadron Leader Rajesh Tiwari of Force 22 came on the line, he briefed him.

‘Don't worry about it, Mr Chauhan. All four of us are right here, and we're ready to move immediately. Just hook us up into your comm network and tell SIGINT to keep us updated at all times.’

‘Don't worry about that,’ Chauhan assured him. ‘It will be done immediately. But tell me, where do you plan to intercept him?’

‘I was thinking of the toll barrier ahead of Manesar. In any case, all vehicles have to halt there, and there are always people milling around, so Yakub Khan will not have any reason to be suspicious. We don't know for sure what he is carrying and how he can trigger it, so we definitely don't want to spook the son-of-a-bitch.’

‘That's an excellent idea!’ Chauhan replied after a moment's thought.
These guys are good. Thank God! We need all the luck and all the men we can
come up with. Who knows what that crazy bastard is carrying into Delhi and where he plans to use it
?

The man at the receiving end of Chauhan's notso-happy thoughts was at that very moment cruising along the highway towards Delhi. He did not hear the automated text message alerts his telephone company sent him as he sped along the highway since Hameed had put the phone on silent. The road was good and the traffic was light. Soon, Yakub Khan had crossed the Bawal Industrial area. By the time he reached Daruhera, the four Force 22 officers with an NSG rifle section had moved into position.

THE TOLL BARRIER ON THE DELHI-JAIPUR HIGHWAY LIES AT
the Bilaspur-Pataudi Chowk about eight kilometres ahead of Manesar, which is not only a huge industrial hub, but also home to the elite National Security Guard. The massive toll barrier straddling the highway has a total of twelve traffic lanes, six on either side. The two outermost lanes on both sides of the highway are for vehicles that are exempt from paying toll – those equipped with a monthly permit or a return ticket purchased earlier that day. The four inner lanes on both sides are for vehicles that have to stop and pay toll. All the lanes have small glass cubicles located in a row in the middle. These cubicles house the toll-collection counters. No matter which lane you use to cross the barrier, it is certain that you have to stop at the toll counter and either pay toll or show your pass or ticket.

By the time Yakub Khan came up to the toll barrier, Squadron Leaders Rajesh Tiwari and Gautam Vashisht of the Indian Air Force, Captain Pradeep Katoch of the Indian Army and Lieutenant Commander Ranjit Dhankar of the Indian Navy, all presently seconded to Force 22, were spread out, one to cover each of the four inner lanes on the side of the highway that led to Delhi. The outermost lanes were covered by two of the NSG men. All six men were wearing gray-green dungarees, like those worn by the other security guards and toll collectors manning the barrier. The 9mm Beretta pistols they carried were carefully concealed in their clothing.

They should be more than enough
, Tiwari had reasoned.
After all, we are not here to fight a war. We just need to take one arsehole down.

The other eight NSG men had taken up position a hundred metres behind the toll barrier. These eight had no weapon concealment problems to worry about and so were loaded for bear. Of course, their weapons were in their vehicles, safely out of public view. They were the back up, in case Yakub Khan somehow managed to break out and get past the toll barrier. On Rao's insistence, two more ATTF teams were moving rapidly to take up positions at various strategic points further down the road, on the stretch between Manesar and Gurgaon.

‘He is coming up now,’ Tiwari cautioned the others as the tiny earpiece of his radio crackled into life. ‘That maroon Tata Safari,’ he hissed to Vashisht who was on his left. He nodded unobtrusively at the large SUV about two hundred metres away that was nosing its way towards the toll barrier. Vashisht signalled to the others on his left.

Then their quarry was upon them.

YAKUB KHAN SAW THE TOLL BARRIER COMING UP IN THE WAY
most people see things that exist but are not germane or relevant to them at that point in time. Toll barriers are now so much a part of most metropolises that people scarcely notice them. Easing the pressure on the accelerator, Yakub reached for his wallet as his vehicle cruised up to the tollbooth. Automatically throwing a glance into the rear-view mirror, he swerved a bit and selected the centre lane, which happened to have the least number of vehicles in it. It was the lane where Pradeep Katoch was positioned.

By the time the vehicles in front had cleared out and Yakub's turn came to pay the toll, he had a hundred rupee note in his hand. He rolled down the window and stuck out his hand. He did not notice Vashisht on the left abandon his lane and start moving towards the Safari. Nor did he notice Tiwari from the lane on the right moving towards the front of the SUV.

As the Safari came to a halt near the toll collection window, Yakub held out the currency note towards Katoch, who was standing just outside the toll booth's cash window.

Katoch stretched out his hand, but instead of taking the proffered note, he caught hold of Yakub Khan's hand in a steely grip.

‘What the….’

‘Switch off the engine and step out.’ Katoch's tone was curt.

There was one brief moment of consternation and then Yakub Khan saw the gleaming pistol in the other hand of the man who had caught him. Yakub felt his heart lurch at the suddenness of the assault. He instinctively looked towards the opposite side, only to see another pistol-borne man coming up to the door.

VASHISHT CLOSED IN ON THE CO-DRIVER'S DOOR OF THE
safari and, pointing the pistol at Yakub Khan's head, tried to open the door. It was locked from inside. Shit! Meanwhile, Katoch had tightened his grip on Yakub's right hand and was ordering him to get out. Tiwari was coming up to the vehicle from the front. By now his weapon too was out and pointed straight at the man behind the wheel. The vehicles coming up behind the Safari in the lane had ensured that the quarry was thoroughly boxed in. Logically, Yakub Khan had no option but to comply. The problem is that logic seldom comes into play in the heat of battle, especially when an amateur is involved.

Yakub Khan suddenly floored the accelerator of the Safari. The powerful SUV lunged forward like a startled antelope. It swatted Tiwari down like a mosquito, pulverizing him under its massive front tyre. The sudden shock as the vehicle leaped forward forced Katoch to release Yakub's hand as he was jerked forward without warning. The shock snapped Yakub's hand neatly at the elbow. He yelled in pain as the Safari thudded over Tiwari and snarled down the road, out of control.

Vashisht had fired instinctively, almost in tandem with Yakub's flooring of the accelerator. As the vehicle lurched forward, the bullet passed neatly through the air behind Yakub Khan's head. Shattering the window glass, it cleaved through the computer inside the tollbooth and embedded itself in the chest of the guard in the next lane. The man began to screech, adding to the confusion.

Vashisht's second bullet, however, made no such mistake. Coming up from the rear left, it thudded into the back of Yakub's head, propelling him forward and slightly to the right as he slumped onto the steering wheel. The horn began to blare as the Safari careened out of control towards the right. It ploughed into a small Maruti 800 that had emerged from the next lane. The tiny car toppled and both vehicles came to an ungainly halt a few metres away. The screech of metal grating on the road resounded in the air a long time after the dust settled.

Yakub Khan was dead by the time the Force 22 commandos reached the toppled Safari. So was Tiwari, the security guard at the counter who had been unfortunate enough to take Vashisht's first bullet, and the two men in the sedan Yakub Khan had slammed into.


WE GOT HIM, SIR,’ KATOCH TOLD ANBU. ‘BUT TIWARI DIDN'T
make it.’ At the other end of the phone, Anbu flinched and closed his eyes momentarily.

So, they have finally drawn blood
.

It had to happen sometime.

For a very brief moment, he allowed himself the luxury of grief. Then, from the back of his mind, he dredged up the words that never failed to gave him sustenance.

You grieve over those who should not be grieved for…. Arise O son of Kunti, determined to fight. Treating alike pleasure and pain, gain and loss, victory and defeat….

Lord Krishna's immortal advice to the warrior Arjun snapped him back to the present.

BOOK: SALIM MUST DIE
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