Weapon of Vengeance (24 page)

They entered it. The front door had been shot open. Men from the crime team were scouring the house for evidence. One was walking around with a plastic evidence bag, collecting spent cases. “Nine millimeter.” He held up the bag for Ravinder.

“Two weapons … both most probably Berettas,” the leader explained as he joined Ravinder. “He got Rizwan and both his sons.”

The three bodies lay in the living room—one, a sixteen-year-old boy, right at the door; he must have come running in when the firing started. These three had also been dispatched in the same professional manner, one through the head and one in the heart. Chances of survival were nil.

Ravinder felt sick. It was a while since he'd been at a crime scene, especially one as gory as this. The sickening stench of blood was still billowing through the house. Controlling the urge to hold a handkerchief to his nose, he asked, “Where is the wife?”

“Luckily, she and her daughter had gone to her parents' place in Faridabad. They should be here soon.”

“Any witnesses?”

“Three—two from the house in front, and one from the house on the right. They all saw a man in his thirties run out. All three said he was clean-shaven, wearing dark trousers and a dark shirt. A gun in each hand. Beyond that, nothing useful.” After a pause, he added, “But we are still questioning them. I've already called the artist to sit with them and run out an Identi-Kit of the killer.”

“Right.” Ravinder dismissed him and turned to Mohite. “I want a detailed report first thing tomorrow. Make no mistake, someone will be held accountable. This is absolutely—” His anger overtook him. “We may have lost all chance of laying our hands on that woman terrorist.”

“I have already had the borders sealed and roadblocks set up all over South Delhi,” Mohite said.

Fat lot of good that would do. By now the killer would be miles away. But Ravinder did not bother to speak. He was fuming as he walked away. Perhaps they'd made a mistake by not arresting Rizwan immediately when they had learned from Peled that he was a Lashkar financier. But then they would have lost any chance of arresting the British female terrorist who was expected to collect cash from him. The Mossad intel on that had been clear.

Goddamnit! We have blown our chance of catching that British mercenary.

His anger continued to stew as he got into Mohite's car and told the driver to drop him home. It was only miles later that his anger subsided enough for him to think of the more worrying issue.

How did the killer know about Rizwan? We just got the lead and mounted the surveillance. Not more than a handful knew about it. There
has
to be a leak.… Who is it?

He was still brooding about it when he lay down. But he was so exhausted that sleep came instantly.

*   *   *

Two bedrooms away, Ruby also lay down to sleep. As she had been doing for the past hour, she again ran through the action checklist in her head. The launchers and rockets had been collected, and were now safely stowed in the two hired vans, one launcher and two rockets per vehicle. All three heavy hitters whom Mark had engaged had reached Delhi. Tomorrow, as soon as they had collected the Glocks, Mark and Ruby would brief them and then give the men time for reconnaissance. Their money was already with Mark. Most important, after today's visit to Ashoka and Mohite's briefing, she now had a better idea of how to penetrate the secure zone. And even had an access card for the complete secure zone. Now just the Glocks remained.

So tomorrow was going to be crucial, they
had
to collect the Glocks from Nanda. That was critical; the final remaining piece.

But the confrontations with Simran that morning and with Ravinder and Chance in the afternoon had left their marks on her. The more she interacted with Ravinder, the more she realized that Rehana had not been honest with her. Ruby could tell that he was a straight-shooter; not a dishonest bone in his body. The bond between his family and him spoke volumes.

Pangs of uncertainty filtered through her as she tried to sleep. She could no longer shy away from the fact that Rehana had lied to her.

But what else did Mom lie to me about? Am I really doing the right thing? Is this truly my destiny?

She felt a headache begin to build. If she allowed it to escalate, it would develop into a crippling pain between her eyes. Hauling herself out of bed she turned on her MacBook and began to play Pac-Man on mute. The mindless game, where only her eyes and fingers moved, usually proved cathartic. But tonight Pac-Man provided no help. With an exasperated sigh, she ended the game and began to root through the MacBook. As though working on their own, her fingers flicked through the Finder till they settled on the video Pasha had sent her from Dubai.

A moment later, the slightly grainy but clear picture, shot obviously by a mobile phone camera, began to throb on the screen. Yusuf's body lay on the hotel bed. Large gashes on his cheeks … his throat gaped open … Ruby vomited as the video spooled on. She had seen it earlier. Several times. That made no difference. Each time, her reaction had been the same.

When she was sure she would vomit no more, she went to the bathroom and cleaned up, first herself and then the carpet.

By now exhausted. She had reached the end of her tether. She so wished that she had not thrown away the meds the shrink had given her. Collapsing on the bed, she passed out.

The last thought in her head before sleep overwhelmed her was,
I wish I could put a
DO NOT DISTURB
sign on my mind
.

Fifteen seconds later, she began to moan again, as the dead man in the video returned to haunt her.

Yusuf Sharbati, her uncle, had been stripped naked. He was lying flat on the bed. The large slit in his throat was overshadowed by the slashes on his cheeks. Both his hands had been chopped off and were displayed on his chest. The bloody stumps of his outstretched hands gave him a strange, grotesque look. His eyes were still open. Wide open. They were staring straight at Ruby. Beseeching her.

“Take revenge. You must take revenge.” They pleaded, “Do not let my death go unpunished.”

Once again, her piteous cries went unheard.

She would have been even more horrified if she knew how meticulously Pasha had stage-managed this video for her. The veteran agent provocateur had known it would keep her on track, would reinforce her anger should she begin to falter.

And Ruby
had
begun to falter. But the gory video did propel her back.

*   *   *

At about the same time, miles away, the troubleshooter from Aligarh pulled over to the side of the road. After retrieving both pistols, he wiped them clean and dropped them over the side and into the murky waters of the sewage drain, the flow below swallowed them up. They were good weapons and he was not happy to see them go, but he knew it was the smart thing to do. And he knew Pasha would be pleased. Thinking about the fat bonus that Pasha would dish out, the man with many names and no permanent home walked back to his car and drove into the night.

 

DAY SEVEN

Ravinder knew something was wrong when Mohite rushed into his office, looking stressed.

“What's happened?” he asked.

“SIGINT just intercepted a phone call from Muzaffarabad. They identified the caller as one of the Jaish-e-Mohammed commanders.”

“And?” Ravinder prodded. “Whom was he calling?”

“That's not certain, but it was most probably Javed Khan.” Mohite gave Ravinder a quizzical look. “You remember … Javed—”

“Of course I do, Govind. So … what was the call about?”

“SIGINT couldn't clarify that.” Mohite looked uneasy. “They were using some kind of onetime use and discard code. The thing is that they triangulated the mobile on which Javed was talking.… It's somewhere in South Delhi … in the Lado Sarai area. The call was too short, so they couldn't get an exact fix.”

“Hmm.” Ravinder realized the implications; Lado Sarai was virtually a jungle of alleys and unsurveyed houses. Trying to find a couple of men in it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Even if Javed were still hanging around. The manpower required was not available. But it would have to be done. “Have some more posters of Javed and Aslam plastered at prominent places. And tell the SHO to carry out a cordon and search. Even if they don't find them, at least they will spook them and keep them on the run.”

“Right, sir.” Mohite turned for the door.

“And Govind,” Ravinder called after him. “Tell—”

There was a loud bang. Both men spun around toward it. The window had flown open. The latch had broken loose. The two men exchanged sheepish glances. Ravinder noted that Mohite's gun was out. His own hand was on the butt of his weapon.

Damn!
Ravinder realized they were both on the edge. The relentless stress was taking a toll.
Not good!

Pushing away the tension Ravinder resumed. “Tell the duty officer to again take a round and brief the guards at the office and all three of our residences.”

Mohite nodded unhappily and left. Both knew that till such time as Javed and Aslam were captured, the threat to Ravinder, Ashish, and Mohite was acute. Both also knew that the chances of catching the terrorists were slim, unless they got lucky … or one of those bastards slipped up.

Pushing away the unease, Ravinder called Gyan to get the window fixed and began to run through the arrangements for Nanda's meeting with the terrorist for the weapons. They
needed
to get that right. With Rizwan Khan knocked out of the picture, it was now their only hope of catching the buggers and stopping the terrorist strike.

Hopefully it will be the same lot—

The phone rang again, disrupting his thoughts. It was Ashish. Before Ravinder could brief him about the latest SIGINT intercept, Ashish told him that Thakur was on his way to the games village and wanted to meet both of them there.

Fuck!
This was the last thing he needed now. He checked his watch; there was still time for the weapons pickup. Calling Mohite as he headed for his car, Ravinder briefed him to take care of the deployment for Nanda's meeting.

“I will be there as soon as I can,” he assured Mohite. “Just make sure our teams are deployed carefully … and in time. And ensure that the weapons being carried by Nanda have been dummied. I don't want live weapons in the hands of a terrorist.”

“What's the problem with that, sir? We will take the bastard in as soon as he lays a hand on the weapons.”

“Even so, just ensure you brief Nanda.”

“Don't worry about it, sir.” Mohite perked up, happy at the opportunity to redeem himself after the fiasco at Rizwan Khan's.

But knowing Mohite, Ravinder couldn't help worrying.

*   *   *

Ruby saw Mark cross the road and walk up to the main gate of the Garden of Five Senses. He saw her and gave a discreet nod before heading inside. Ruby continued ahead to the predecided spot, at the end of the garden, from where she could keep an eye on the handover without exposing herself.

Located at the Said-ul-Azab village in Mehrauli, the Garden of Five Senses is spread over twenty acres and is one of Delhi's famous tourist attractions. With geometrically arranged plants, meandering pathways, and beautiful lotus ponds, it was a popular spot, and hundreds of people flocked to it daily—for exercising, de-stressing, or just plain old-fashioned romancing. It was teeming with people.

For the next half hour, the deadly duo scoured the ground: one visually, and the other physically. Between them they raked through every inch, quadrant by quadrant, checking for anything out of the ordinary. They spotted nothing. No hard-looking goons. No flatfoot cops in civvies. No! Nothing out of the ordinary.

For once, Mohite had used his brains. All three teams were couples pretending to use the park for what most couples do, some intimate conversation and a lot of necking. But all three teams had their eyes and ears tuned in; eyes on the garden and ears to the tiny earpieces through which Mohite was controlling them.

None picked up on Ruby, parked at the periphery, but two of them spotted Mark as he entered the park. The third pair was alerted by a hissed communication from Mohite. Six pairs of hands instinctively inched closer to their weapons.

Sitting in the car park near the garden's smaller, side entrance, Mohite nodded as he watched their target heave into the ambush site. He was sure this massive Caucasian was the man they sought.

“I think our man is here.” Mohite excitedly called Ravinder on his mobile. “Blond
firangi
 … huge … like a bloody tank.”

“Good. That is how Nanda described him … Mark.” Running late, Ravinder was en route. As usual, Thakur had arrived late and kept them hanging till the last minute. “Make sure everyone is alert. I am almost there … the bloody traffic is terrible today.”

“No worries, sir. I have everything under control.”

But that was what was worrying Ravinder. Cutting the call, he went back to cursing the traffic. Even with his siren and cop light, they were not making much headway; a truck had overturned somewhere ahead, blocking the road for miles. Agonizing minutes later, they passed the upturned truck and speeded up.

Ravinder halted the conspicuous cop car away from the garden and covered the remaining distance on foot. He was across the road, opposite the garden's main gate, when he saw Nanda drive up in his Mercedes, retrieve a blue carry bag from the car, and head into the garden. He halted, unwilling to let Nanda see him. The arms dealer was clearly nervous and might acknowledge his presence; that wouldn't do, since the terrorist named Mark, or his accomplices, were certain to be watching Nanda now … to confirm if he was alone or—

Mohite called again. “The weapons dealer is also here.”