The Delhi Deception (37 page)

“I think I found something,” Harry said and called Carla over. “Here, feel here. What do you think?’

Carla squinted in the gloom and saw that a portion of the wall was un-plastered. A brick was jutting out slightly, its protruding end quite rough to the touch. She turned around and tried to rub the cable tie against it. It was just sliding off, but then after a minute something stuck and she felt the tie hooking and scraping. “I think it’s working,” she said excitedly.

Harry knelt down, his face against the wall. “You’re almost there; push harder.”

Carla felt the release as the tie broke off, and she fell to her knees, crying for the first time. “Thank you, God, thank you.”

Harry pushed hard against the brick, and within seconds he had snapped his ties. He helped Elouise up, guided her to the brick, and together they managed to free her hands. The three of them were now smiling with relief. Carla hugged both Elouise and Harry and said, “We’re going to be OK, but we have to work together.”

Nodding, Harry said, “Thanks, Carla. Let me try and do something about the lock.” It was too dark to see anything as he felt around. “It feels like an ordinary Yale lock. All I need is something thin and sharp, like a hairpin.” He looked at them hopefully, but they shook their heads. “Never mind, let’s try and find something.” He went down on all fours, feeling the floor.

“I’ve got something!” Carla shouted, making Elouise jerk with fright. She started fiddling inside her blouse. Concentrating hard, she pulled out a half-circle of white, plastic-coated metal.

Elouise stared at Carla, perplexed at first, and then, with sudden recognition, “Brilliant, the underwire from your bra!”

Grinning broadly, Harry said, “That’s perfect. It should do the trick.” He took it from her and started picking the lock. They stood expectantly at Harry’s side, and then they heard the click of the mechanism.

Harry pushed the door open and looked cautiously down the passage. “It’s clear,” he whispered. The three of them crept carefully down the passage, stopping at the top of the stairs. Harry walked down halfway and peered down. Turning back, he said, “Looks like no one’s there; come.”

Carla felt her heart beating in her throat. The only light now in the large room came from small windows close to the ceiling. Elouise ran toward the door. As she was about to pull on the handle, Harry shouted out in alarm, “No, don’t!”

She froze in alarm. “Why?”

He hurried to her side and studied the door for a few seconds. “It’s booby-trapped. Look, do you see these wires here?” He pointed to green and red wires spanning the top half of the door and around the door lock. He followed the wires and found the bomb hidden under an empty cardboard box advertising Sri Lankan bananas. “Damn, this is an enormous son of a bitch,” Harry said, deflated.

Carla sat down quickly on a crate. She felt faint, her hopes shattered.

Elouise was the one now who seemed hopeful, and she asked Harry, “Can you disarm it?”

He looked at her gravely and said, “I don’t know, but believe me I will give it my all.”

Elouise was staring at the door; abruptly she said, “What’s that?” She pulled a piece of cotton fabric off something. It was a black plastic timer: forty-three minutes and twenty seconds, in red digits.

.

CHAPTER 27

R
ichard Summers looked up when George entered his office. His bottom lip was sticking out slightly like that of a petulant child.
Oh yes, he’s pissed off
, George thought.

“Sit down, Alexander,” the ambassador said curtly, “I want to know what the hell is going on. The Indian Minister of Defense is furious. He has found out that you’re using their surveillance to monitor possible terrorist activities. They want in.”

Frowning, George said, “No way, at least not yet. We can’t blow it now. After almost a decade of searching, we finally have a lead. You need to speak to the CIA director and the president. I’m not the person to divulge anything at this stage.”

“Then what do you propose we tell the Indian government?”

“An American citizen has gone missing, kidnapped, as we have received a ransom note. It’s a crime ring responsible, with no link to any terrorist groups.”

“Then they’re going to want to involve their police force.”

“OK, but we can stall them a bit. I think we’re about to find something. Jim was going to call—” As George said that his phone rang—it was Jim. He glanced at the ambassador and answered it. Jim said he saw Harry getting out of the van and entering an abandoned warehouse or factory. George said he’d be there in a minute.

“Listen, Richard, please think of something to tell the Indians to hold them off. You’re the diplomat. And please, I beg you, do not divulge the identity of the missing American. I don’t want them to know we’re onto Dr. Harry Singh. If you’ll excuse me, I must get to the control room. Jim found one missing person, and I’m pretty sure it will lead to the others.” Getting up, he said, “So we’re good?”

Richard smiled feebly and said, “Go, I’ll handle it. But you better keep us out of trouble.”

George thanked him and rushed out.

Jim was glued to the screen when George entered the room. “Show me what you got,” George said.

“Give me a minute; I’ll rewind in a second. I’m on fast-forward. After they got off, Singh and suitcase included, no one has left the building. I thought I’d do a quick check to see how long they stayed in there.”

George saw the two armed guards at the gate and the one with the dog at the perimeter of the premises. “When is this?”

“Still yesterday.” Jim glanced at the time line. “Eight p.m.”

At eleven p.m., a Tempo van arrived at the gate. Jim slowed it down, and they watched closely, squinting at the dark images. Two people got out of the front of the van. While one opened the doors, the other went into the building. A much taller person came out of the building, dressed in kurta pajamas and holding a lamp. He went over to the back of the van where one man was now helping two women out of the back. George’s heart lurched. It was Carla and Elouise.

“That’s them!” George shouted.

The taller man tied their hands. A woman wearing a hijab joined the two men, and together the three escorted Carla and Elouise around the building where they were pushed through a door. After a few minutes the woman in hijab and the tall man exited.

“Where is this place; do you have the coordinates?” George asked, his face a mask of serious concentration.

“Sure, let’s see. It’s north of Ghaziabad, which is east of Delhi about twenty kilometers. This is an industrial phase that was closed down by the local government, as the developers never required business rights. The land was supposed to be used for agricultural purposes.”

“Jim, my man, you need to check every minute of that surveillance while I round up a team to go get them. If they get moved, you call me right away. Phone me on my satellite phone. You can send images through as well.”

“No problem, you go, man. Go.”

George was already out the door and on his phone. Speaking Pashtun, Urdu, and Hindi, he organized his team to rendezvous at his bungalow. He reached it within ten minutes and was met by a tall Afghan.

“Asef, salaam aleikum,” George greeted him.

A large, well-built, bearded Sikh wearing a khaki-colored turban stood up and saluted George military style.

“Good to see you, Mohanbir.”

As they spoke, a short but powerfully built man wearing a kurta pajama and a crocheted skullcap came in with Kamal. “Naeem Khan, glad you’re back from Pakistan.” They embraced briefly and then George said, switching over to Hindi, “Guys, Sunil will make you some tea. If you want to eat, please ask him to pack something. I’ll change quickly, and then I’ll explain the mission on the way.”

He went to his bedroom and changed into a pathani suit and turban. Taking a tube of Neutrogena Instant Bronzing Cream from his bathroom cabinet, he quickly spread it over his face, neck, and arms. He walked back to his study and effortlessly pulled the bookshelf away from the paneled wall, pressing on one panel that slid behind another to reveal a neat, well-lit, deep concrete cavity holding a small arsenal. He handed the Israelimade Desert Eagle semiautomatic pistols to Mohanbir, a former sharp shooter for the Indian Defense Force. Mohanbir distributed the handguns among them. The two UZI submachine guns were given to Kamal and Naeem. Mohanbir kept the highly accurate Galil sniper rifle, while George and Asef took the Negevs, light machine guns favored by the Israeli Army for their dependable maneuverability. Pulling open a drawer, George removed five US-made Armocorr, high-performance polyethylene bulletproof vests. From another drawer he took a hunting knife and a couple of grenades, which he attached to a belt under his long shirt. He tossed a couple to Kamal and Asef.

They walked to the car weighed down with weapons. Kamal got into the driver’s seat, and George sat in the passenger seat next to him. He turned around to face his men and said, “This is a search-and-rescue mission. Let’s keep the casualties to a minimum. Take utmost care with the two women we are hoping to rescue. I think we are dealing with a dangerous bunch. Don’t underestimate them. At this stage of their operations, they will be tetchy and trigger-happy.”

“Suicide bombers?” Mohanbir asked.

“Well, we’re not a hundred percent sure, but if I was a betting man, I’d stake my money on that.”

For the rest of the journey they discussed their plan of action, studying the aerial layout of the complex Jim had sent George via satellite phone. The time was 14:10. It would take them at least another half hour to get to their destination.

Sweat was pouring down Harry’s brow, and he asked Elouise for a rag to wipe it. He was concentrating hard, but he had not yet decided on how to disarm the bomb. Carla stood close, mesmerized by the digital numbers ticking down: twenty-nine minutes and ten, nine, eight seconds. “Harry, isn’t there any other way out of here?”

He glanced at Carla briefly and said, “I only know of the two doors, and they are both booby-trapped. Search the living quarters upstairs. See if you can find a window without bars. Elouise, stay with me; I might need you.” She nodded and tried to smile bravely.

Carla walked fast and inspected the small factory windows in the rooms. They were all protected with iron bars bolted deep into the outside walls. After examining all the rooms again for a second time, she knew she was wasting her time and went back downstairs. She was close to tears as she told Harry there was no way out.

Carla sat down on an empty crate next to Elouise, took Elouise’s hand in hers, and the two of them sat in motionless resignation. Harry stared in disbelief and said, “Don’t tell me you’re going to just sit there. Do something; keep searching.” He turned around and continued picking at the wires. He had managed to unscrew the box that housed the shrapnel and was trying to detach the plastic explosives tied with masking tape.

The brief respite and recognition of their vulnerability was all Carla and Elouise needed to strengthen their resolve. They stood up and started scouring the factory floor methodically again.

“Go to the back of the room—there’s a steel door there,” Harry called. “We worked with the radioactive material in there. I think it’s fortified with concrete to prevent a radiation leak in case of an accident. You may find something in there.”