Weapon of Vengeance (8 page)

“What does
she
know?” Simran repeated her exasperated clucking. “She is a child. It is our job to instill the value of customs and tradition in her.” She waved her hand at the clutter of paper and photos. “Don't you realize that these boys are the best we can find … and they are all from good, royal families—”

“The pick of the litter, are they?” Ravinder could not resist the quip. It earned him a cold, angry glare, lately her expression of choice for him. He regretted it immediately.

“Be serious! Our daughter's future is at stake.”

“Sorry,” Ravinder waved placatingly, “that was uncalled for, my dear.”

Before he could go on, his mobile chimed. Grateful for the excuse, Ravinder took the call, walking out to the garden. It was a telemarketer trying to sell him a credit card. He wanted to thank her for calling when she did. Cutting the call, he was returning to the living room when the phone chirruped again.

“Good morning, sir.” Mohite sounded angry. He launched off without waiting for Ravinder to respond. “I have no idea how to deal with these bloody foreign agents.”

“What happened, Mohite?” Ravinder knew that it was going to be one of
those
days.

“I have spent the whole of yesterday going over the security arrangements at the hotel with both of them, but that bloody Spillman is not satisfied with anything.” He spluttered. “As for that woman … Jennifer … I have never seen anyone nitpick so much.… She has a problem with every fucking thing.”

“Okay.” Ravinder was familiar with Mohite's exaggerating and knew he needed to get him focused. “What are the precise issues?”

“There are so many,” Mohite spluttered, “where do I start?”

“Start with the big ones, Govind.”

Ravinder spent the next twenty minutes listening. As he'd expected, they had more to do with Mohite's hostility toward the two foreigners than with any practical issues; most of the points raised by them appeared valid to Ravinder. So, realizing he needed to deal with these and also maintain morale in his organization, Ravinder diplomatically talked Mohite through them one at a time.

“You're asking me to give in to them on everything,” Mohite complained.

“Govind, this is not about them or us.… It is about ensuring the damn summit goes off smoothly.” Ravinder then played his trump card. “Remember how much Thakur sahib trusts you? Can we afford to let him down? How would he feel if these guys complained to him?”

He listened through the long pause at the other end. “Right, sir, if that's what you want, I will do it.” Mohite did not sound happy.

“So where are they now?”

“I told them to take a hike and go see the city for the day … while I fix the problems,” Mohite replied, now in a satisfied tone.

Ravinder wondered why they called people like him civil servants; there was hardly anything civil about Mohite and nothing even remotely akin to the desire to serve present in him, except in pursuit of his own interests.

But we have to work with what we have. No point in bitching. Just deal with it.

“Fine, you work on the issues we have discussed. I will swing by later, once I've met Ashish.”

By the time the call ended, he felt drained, and the day had only begun. And, knowing Mohite, he also felt sorry for the two foreign agents.

“Don't forget that we have to go for Navjyot's wedding reception tonight,” Simran called after him as he returned inside, and grabbed his laptop.

“Navjyot?” Lost in thought, Ravinder gave her a blank look.

“My cousin's daughter, Ravinder.” Simran voiced her exasperation: “When will you remember that there is a life outside your office also?”

“Oh, I'd clean forgotten.” Ravinder thumped his forehead. “That's tonight?”

“Yes. Eight
P.M
. at the Claridges. Come straight there if you're getting late.”

“Right. I think I'll do that.” Ravinder waved a hurried bye.

“I know, I know. It's too much to expect you to come home and go with us.” Her exasperation followed him to the door.

*   *   *

Chance and Jennifer were already in his office when Ravinder walked in. Chance was sitting, but Jennifer was wearing out the carpet, her agitation evident.

“Mr. Gill!” she burst out in frustration. “You really need to look into this. Your Mr. Mohite does not seem to understand the basics of security, and he is so rude.”

“Tell me about it, Jennifer.” Ravinder kept calm. “Why don't you sit down? Would you like a cup of tea first? Or coffee?”

“I think that is a good idea, Mr. Gill,” Chance interceded, realizing that Ravinder was trying to cool her down. “Jennifer.” He pushed the chair beside him toward her.

She gave him a long look. “You do realize that we will be put out to pasture if these guys don't get their act in place,” she muttered as she sat.

“Getting worked up is not going to help,” Chance whispered back.

“What is the precise problem?” Ravinder asked after instructing Gyan to get some tea for Chance and himself and coffee for Jennifer.

Chance took the lead. “We don't want to be difficult, Mr. Gill, but Mr. Mohite will not share any information. We have no idea what your security plans are. So how can we confirm to our superiors that our people will be safe?” Struggling to find the right words, he went on. “Please understand that we also are under a lot of pressure. Our agencies will hold us accountable if…” His voice petered away, unwilling to state the bad stuff.

“I understand, Chance.” Ravinder met his gaze evenly. “Let me assure you that I will personally look into things and make sure you are in the loop at all times. Give me a day to sort things out.”

“Fair enough, Mr. Gill.”

Jennifer looked unconvinced, but she caught the look on Chance's face and subsided.

“Thank you.” Ravinder stepped in smoothly again. “While I put together a document for you, why don't the two of you take the opportunity to do some sightseeing? Delhi has a lot to offer. Check out the Qutab Minar, Jantar Mantar, Red Fort.… You won't regret it, I promise you.… It's a lovely walk down history.” He smiled.

“Seems like a good idea.” Chance returned the smile.

Jennifer visibly perked up. She appeared eager to spend some personal time with Chance; the attraction between them was evident. They left.

Ravinder sat down and began to work out how to resolve the issue without ruffling more feathers, either with Thakur or his crony Mohite.

*   *   *

The paperwork put together by Ruby, passing them off as volunteers working with a British aid group, got them through the checkpoints, but the delays irritated her.

It was past noon when they entered Vellankulam, a clutter of houses and huts amidst clusters of palm trees, some of brick, but mostly mud-walled.

The sun was almost directly overhead, but the heat was mitigated by a sprightly sea breeze as they alighted outside a small house by the sea with faded wooden doors and windows. Several windowpanes were missing; the gaps boarded over with cardboard and yellowing newspaper. The house was screened off from all sides by trees.

On the Sri Lankan eastern coast, Vellankulam was historically a convenient, though illegal, jump-off point to India. During the war years, it had been an established staging post for men and warlike matériel. So it abounded in fast-moving speedboats and men who plied this risky trade. It was one such man to whom Chanderan had brought them.

They were expected; he stepped out to meet them as their vehicle navigated through the narrow wooden gate.

Though he was a few inches taller and several kilograms heavier, there was not much difference between him and Chanderan. Neither told them his name. They both wasted no time in pleasantries.

The cargo sought by Ruby was already loaded on the dull gray speedboat lashed to the jetty. Mark checked each item.

The rocket launchers were Swedish 84mm Carl Gustav, easy to use and effective. Both were wrapped in oily polythene. Accompanying were two containers of rockets: the first had two high-explosive rockets and the second two high-explosive antitank rockets.

“Everything seems to be in order,” Ruby told Chanderan when Mark gave her the thumbs-up.

“Of course it is,” he replied with a smile. “Should we move, then?”

Ruby nodded. They clambered into the speedboat and after covering the items with a tarpaulin took off.

The sun bounced off the water, blindingly bright. There was a lively breeze, but that did not affect the high-powered boat, since it was literally skimming the surface.

For the first few minutes, Chanderan tried to point out places on the coastline receding behind them; however, the wind made talk impossible. And neither Ruby nor Mark was in the mood for a guided tour. Both were aware of the danger of being intercepted by the Sri Lankan or Indian Coast Guard. Though Chanderan had assured them they could outrun anything that either government could throw at them, which had not been reassuring. Both knew that outrunning another boat was one thing; outrunning bullets yet another.

Ruby shrugged.
But this is the best we can hope for. Reconnoitering the escape route is important … worth the risk.

Soon the sun was dropping toward the horizon, casting a deep red glow over the waters. As darkness closed in, lights began to flicker on the approaching Indian coastline.

Ruby's mind had begun to spiral away when they made land and the engine was cut. Though slowing, the boat slid forward due to its momentum. Chanderan and his taciturn accomplice leaped into waist-deep water and hauled the boat ashore.

Ruby felt an admixture of pain and anger jab at her as her feet hit Indian soil.
The land of my father … this is not the way I ever imagined coming here.
It was an unsettling feeling. Confused, she pushed it away.

It was a quiet sliver of beach. Perhaps cleared by Chanderan's local contact. Perhaps the fishermen knew better than to be around. Here and there nets had been hung out to dry. A yellow bulb from a nearby temple cast eerie shadows all around.

A man who had been waiting for them emerged out of the shadows. Once again, no introductions. The cargo was offloaded.

“He will have them trucked down to Delhi and stored. They'll be there by the end of this week. You can collect them from the address I gave you. They will be expecting you.”

“Have you explained to him about our return?”

“Of course. He will wait for you at the guesthouse in Chennai. It is perfectly safe.… My cousin owns it. You just reach there and he will get you back.”

“And him?” Ruby gestured at the boatman.

“He will wait for you here.… Remember this temple.” Chanderan pointed. “It is an easy landmark. Even if you have to come on your own, just ask for the Devipattinam temple.”

“Spell that out, please.” Both Mark and Ruby took note of the long, unfamiliar name.

“From when to when?” Ruby double-checked.

“As you wanted, for four days, starting from the fourteenth of October.”

“Right.” Ruby exchanged glances with Mark; he nodded, confirming he had taken note of everything … just in case they got separated … or if one of them did not make it back at all. “That's it, then. Thank you. Let's go.”

Minutes later, they were off again, heading back to Vellankulam. Their escape route had been physically reconnoitered. The heavy weapons were being delivered to Delhi.

By now the darkness around them was almost complete. Barring the rhythmic throbbing of the powerful Yamaha outboard motor and the sound of water swishing past, silence surrounded them. It was almost spiritual. The dark skies, the overwhelming magnificence of the ocean, and the wind zipping past; all came together in harmony. Soon, the reddish glow of the dying sun vanished, plunging them into darkness. The darkness gathered strength, now broken only by the twinkling lights of some distant coastal village, or passing ship.

Their boat rode without lights.

Ruby felt a comforting calm. It began in her heart and slowly spread through her, enhancing the strong, positive feeling she had woken up with that morning. Despite that, somewhere deep inside, the sight of the receding Indian coastline unsettled her. She knew that somewhere out there, in that massive land of millions, was the man who had sired her …
and abandoned me. Where is he? Will I run into him?
Then, a bit later,
Does he think of me? Ever?

All at once she wished they would never stop moving.

But they did.

Soon they were rushing through the night, back to Colombo. They had a flight to catch. To Delhi. Ruby did not want either of them to enter India illegally.

*   *   *

It was pushing midnight when the cab brought them back to Ashoka Hotel. Chance paid the driver and followed Jennifer in. Both had rooms on the seventh floor, in the zone that was being secured.

The encounter with Mohite that morning had soured the start of their day. But then, realizing they needed to give Ravinder time to sort things out, they'd taken his advice and gone sightseeing.

They'd had an exciting time traipsing through the Qutub Minar. Though access to the upper reaches of the world's tallest brick tower was no longer allowed, they had fun browsing around it. Jennifer also tried to encircle the famous iron pillar with her arms when their guide told them anyone who managed to do that would have their wish fulfilled.

Watching her trying, Chance wondered what she would have wished for. Then, out of the blue, the thought of Ruby dropped into his mind. He wondered where she was … how she was doing … what
she
would have wished for.

What would I have wished for?

It was an uncomfortable thought. He pushed it away, declining to try the pillar when Jennifer asked him to. He was not feeling gung ho as Jennifer laughingly led him out of Qutab Minar. Ruby's shadow between them had lengthened.