How he had been lying to her all this time?
Maybe there had been no bomb in the first place; maybe all of it had been a sham. Maybe Tom had been playing some sort of game with her and she couldn’t figure out the end result yet. Because she wasn’t as smart, as devious as he was.
But, she would find out. By all the gods there were, she would find out.
And the key to finding out everything was in her reach, Hannah realized as she thundered down the steps of her basement cave in the airport building and yanked open one of the boiler room doors and went to retrieve her target.
Her breathing was harsh and her only intent was to inflict the most horrible sort of pain on Ziya Maarten to find out exactly what sort of game were the good guys playing to get Tom so mad at her. That he was lying to her.
She hoped, badly, that sister dear wasn’t awake.
It would be her greatest pleasure to give her the wakeup call of her short, soon-to-be-ended life. But before that, there was just one more thing that needed to be done.
And Hannah, The Woodpecker, knew that this was her mark on the world.
~~~~~
Wood had prepared for this moment, this eventuality with the precision and cunning of …well, a terrorist.
Her original plan had been to steal the bomb and take off with it, but since the bomb was not available, she was going to take off with sister Ziya. She dragged a half-conscious, gagged Ziya out with her, scarily strong and stashed her in the ATV next to her.
Then, Hannah gunned the four-speed engine and drove in a sedate manner to the nearest private hangar, where her exit strategy gleamed shiny steel and chrome for her.
Nearby, the sound of ambulance and police sirens were beginning to punctuate the peaceful morning.
The guard standing in with his clipboard did not pay a lot of attention to the woman speaking brisk Chinese to him and waved her and her silent sister in to the Learjet because she produced the right papers and passports. Plus, twenty thousand US dollars in cash.
All child’s play for Hannah, who had taken the papers from Tom last night.
A couple of bullets and the crew working the area were all dead. Until only Hannah and Ziya were left.
~~~~~~
Ziya wanted to cry, to scream, but the gag bound her and her own fear made speaking, thinking impossible. So she just stumbled on as best as she could, got into the plane, her eyes screaming defiance at Hannah.
Hannah kicked her once in the gut, Ziya doubled over.
Then, she dragged her into the cockpit by the ends of her hair and switched on the controls, readying the plane for take-off. She checked the fuel gauge. Full. Good. Her journey would require a full tank.
Ziya’s breath came out in broken whimpers but she dare not voice the one question she wanted to ask.
Where was Hannak taking her?
Why hadn’t she killed her yet?
Hannah answered her question a minute later, when she sat down, strapped in and murmured, in a totally sane voice, “We’re going home, Ziya. You’re going home. In ashes and dust.”
Ziya couldn’t help it then. She closed her eyes and defeated tears seeped down her battered eye, while she thought of all the goodbyes she hadn’t been allowed to say to her family.
At home.
Kashmir.
~~~~~
Krivi was all focus, all mission as he got to his feet from his fall and started running away from the burning warehouse. He got hold of the first Jeep that came into view and threw the drive off.
He didn’t care if Tom Jones was beside him. All he knew was that The Woodpecker was out there, ahead of him, finally in his reach… and she knew where Ziya was, so that was the only thing that mattered.
He put the engine in gear, and Tom slid in next to him.
Krivi didn’t so much as look at him as the tires spun out in a burst of rubber and asphalt and they wheeled away from the carnage, just as a bunch of highly trained commandos burst onto the scene, armed to the teeth and ready to take charge.
Right then, from the opposite runway, came the sound of a plane taxiing down the runway.
Krivi looked at the plane in surprise. The airport was not cleared for traffic. They had chosen a time for the meeting when the runway would be relatively free.
“Fuck,” Tom murmured.
His heart sank. He shot Tom one fulminating look.
“Your kid?” he all but snarled the question as they swerved into the main terminal where the cacophony was deafening.
“Yes. My kid,” Tom answered. And then he swung out of the all-terrain vehicle and said only one word.“Ziya.”
Krivi’s heart stopped.“Krivi, what’s going on? Krivi, answer me if you can hear me. I didn’t hear any confirmation on The Woodpecker’s ID. Did we get him?” Harold was screaming in his ear.
Krivi reached inside his ear and threw the micro microphone out, of the open window.
“Those babies don’t come cheap,” Tom commented.
“Shut the fuck up,” Krivi snarled. He took a deep breath because expending energy on anything other than getting to Ziya was energy he couldn’t waste.
“How did she file a flight plan?” he asked Tom who was already on his very own, pimped-out satellite phone spitting out a bunch of numbers that were his ID code, probably.
Tom held one finger up to signal silence.
He murmured something into the phone, waited for a reply and then, they both watched the Learjet take off in a western direction.
“Because.” Tom didn’t bother elaborating.
“What the hell were you doing on the phone then?” Krivi asked, resisting the urge to wrap his hands around the older man’s neck, if only because Tom had claimed that Ziya was his kid.
Ziya was not his daughter. No one would leave their child alone all their life if they could help it. Even he wasn’t that heartless, inhuman.
“I was talking to the ATC in China and India, trying to make sure nobody shoots that plane down on sight. She’s filed a flight plan to Ladakh. To the military air base that is still to be inaugurated by your president next year.”
Krivi didn’t understand half of what he was saying. He latched onto the two words he did get.
Flight plan. Ladakh.
“She’s going home then,” he said.
Tom looked at the sky, the blue sky with the black snake of smoke rising out from the ground like a hungry, towering snake.
“She’s taking her home. To her final resting place. Wood’s considerate like that.” There was just a hint of fatherly pride in Tom’s voice to make Krivi see crimson.
Krivi’s fist shot out and would have caught Tom full in the face, if the other man’s reflexes had been less than lightning-sharp.
Tom let go of Krivi’s iron-hard fist and said calmly, “You can either try to kill me or use my considerable influence in getting to Ladakh before Ziya gets killed, and she will get killed on landing. Even flying a plane won’t distract Wood for long.”
“I am MI5. I can get help if I want.”
Tom pointed at Krivi’s empty ear. “You just threw your help away.”
Krivi said nothing. Tom punched a series of buttons on his phone and said, “It’s me. ID code AAZ142286. I need to get to Ladakh. Now.”
Whoever was on the other line must have responded positively because Tom’s fish-cold eyes warmed a bit and he said, “We have to get to Shigatse airport, right now.”
~~~~~~
The journey to Ladakh from Shigatse Airport was three hours’ flying distance. It seemed interminable to Krivi, who had been completely silent on the short flight to Shigatse Military base, forty-five minutes away from the now closed Lhasa-Gonggar airport.
The exploded warehouse hangar was on government property and they were not taking any chances, closing down the perimeter for a full sweep for explosives.
Krivi and Tom were already airborne by the time the first alarms sounded at the hangar. The plane to Ladakh, a spiffy military aircraft wi
th the right tags, was fueled and waiting for them as they disembarked from the Sikorsky that had ferried them to Shigatse.
Halfway over the Himalayas, Krivi couldn’t keep silent any longer.
“How long have you and The Woodpecker…what’s her goddamn name?” he demanded abruptly,
“Hannah Jones,” Tom answered simply.
Krivi’s Kevlar-protected chest expanded angrily. “You bastard. How dare you use a woman to do your dirty work?”
Tom smiled and it was the coldest thing he had ever seen, he who had stared death in the face more times than he cared to count. “Just because she is a woman doesn’t mean she isn’t very good at what she does. That is sexist.”
“You taught her everything she knows.”
Tom didn’t refute it. “In my line of work…you need certain resources. Certain skill sets in specific people to balance out the evil that already exists, so you can…mitigate it. And you need to know who those people are, to look them in the eye, gain their trust and then make them work for you exactly the way you want them to.”
Spies spoke like this. Spies who were deep, deep in the woodwork that all they knew was the next job, the next mission.
Before Ziya, he had been like this.
Krivi shot him a brief, speculative glance. “Who are you?”
“I’m Tom Jones. I am Harold’s informant.”
Krivi knew there was a lot more to that answer than Tom was telling him but he didn’t have to interrogate the man, even if he were so inclined, which he wasn’t. “Is Ziya really your daughter or did you just say that to keep me from killing you?”
Tom, gripped the steel rest as the plane bounced along on turbulence and answered calmly, “Ziya is my daughter. Her mother died giving birth to her. She didn’t know my identity and I couldn’t risk blowing my cover. I was working the Middle-east then and you know how bloodthirsty the lot there is. If they knew I had a daughter…”
Krivi nodded his understanding of the situation. Spies were always afraid for their families because revenge and retribution was such a big threat for them. It was one of the main reasons he had never formed any attachments till…
“Ziya’s yours.”
Tom nodded.
“Yeah, I kept tabs on her. Those scholarships she earned…”
Krivi whistled soundlessly. The man had to have had some pull in order to establish scholarships in the premier university in the world, just so his daughter could study there.
“You love her.”
Tom’s observation surprised Krivi.
“Don’t you?” he asked back.
“I can’t afford to,” Tom answered simply. Then he gave him the most human look he had ever given in his life. “But I am glad you do.”
“When we get there, I am going to put a bullet in your other daughter Hannah’s head,” Krivi said conversationally.
Tom didn’t reply to the casual words. The plane droned on, fifteen thousand feet in the air. Nearing their destination every minute.
Ladakh was only an hour away.
Fifty-One
Hannah shook Ziya awake, and Ziya screamed.
Hannah slapped Ziya across her cheek and mouth… and Ziya screamed.
Hannah snarled and yanked Ziya’s neck back to put a knife to her throat and hissed, “I am going to cut you up into so many pieces they will take forever to put you back together, if you don’t start talking. Now.”
“What…what…what?” Ziya wheezed, all her tears having dried up in the last few hours.
Now she was just numb. At least she hoped she was numb. Because if she wasn’t numb and there was no insulation between her and the pain, then she wanted to die. She simply wanted to stop breathing and die. Because it hurt too goddamn much.
It hurt everywhere.
It was an effort to focus her gaze on Hannah’s mad grey eyes.
“You know what, bitch! What did the spies tell you about me? About my father? What the hell did you want with me? Did you know about the bomb, did you? Did you?” Hannah cut a thin line on Ziya’s neck by the time she had finished questioning her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ziya mumbled. She hoped she was coherent, but she wasn’t sure.
“You know exactly what I am talking about, Zee. Now start talking. Or I will hurt you.” Hannah plunged the knife into the scissor wound on her thigh.
Ziya screamed as a blaze of pure unadulterated agony went through her. She saw black and red spots and a bright white light beyond it, which could only mean that she was nearing her time.
Ziya screamed again, pure and needy and desperate, as Hannah twisted the knife in deeper and hit the artery like she intended to. Blood poured off Ziya’s thigh, staining her legs, since she didn’t have her pants on anymore. Flowing into the stony ground where it collected into an ugly little pool that got larger and larger with every breath she took.
“Talk Ziya. TALK!”
Hannah took the knife out and Ziya screamed the loudest, as agony passed through every cell she possessed, electrifying her, enervating her so she fell down in a crumbled dirty heap. She shuddered and shuddered as the spasms of pain and unrelenting agony went on and on and on.
Ziya passed out and Hannah couldn’t torture her anymore.
She considered slicing the girl open from navel to throat but the plane hit an air pocket so she had to focus on flying on the plane.
Ziya lived.
But barely.
~~~~~
The Learjet was allowed to land in the semi-prepared field at the half-built base in Ladakh, one hundred and fifty kilometers south of Pangong Lake.
Recent skirmishes with the Chinese in C-OK (Chinese Occupied Kashmir) had led the Indian military to reevaluate their air strength in the area, and they had been slowly but steadily preparing for an emergency situation where military aircraft would take off from this base at a moment’s notice. It was government-approved, of course, but secrecy was still the name of the game when it came to cross-border relations.
So, the base commander was pleasantly surprised when two men in battle fatigues, toting semi-automatics strode into his office, plonked down ID that made his eyes bug out and asked for the field to be cleared for a landing of a Learjet in approximately an hour.
It was a different matter that these gentlemen had come in an aircraft whose ID tags had passed his superior’s A-Ok and that he was still trying to figure out what they mean.
Commander Puri wanted more verification than just a fancy aircraft and ID proof so he called his superiors who patched him through to someone very high up in the Army who asked him, very politely to do as one of the gentleman requested.
The gentleman, Tom Jones was his personal friend and should be given every assistance possible…since the gentleman was on a mission to capture the international terrorist known as The Woodpecker.
The commander stood at attention then and offered every assistance possible to the two gentlemen.
The two gentlemen asked for all non-essential personnel to be cleared off the base as the situation could get ‘hairy’.
The commander gave the order.
~~~~~
And that was how Hannah Jones, plane thief, international terrorist bomber, mass murderer, and sister touched down perfectly in the hills of Ladakh on a semi-prepared field by a skeletal ground crew, complete with running lights and directions.
The waters of the lake gleamed a beautiful, serene turquoise and the sky was a perfect blue as she looked with cold grey eyes into the horizon.
Ladakh: they called it paradise on earth.
Hannah could only see the hell she was about to unleash here.
She looked at the tipping, almost dead form of her sister and yanked her head back by the red-tipped ends.
“Awake yet?” she asked in broken Hindi. Uth gayi?
~~~~~
Ziya blinked open tear-filled eyes.
“Ready to talk?”
Ziya couldn’t answer, terror and bile wa
s making it difficult for her to swallow. She didn’t know where they were, and the wheels of the plane were still running, crunching on the ground, making it impossible for her to hear coherently.
“I will get angrier if you don’t talk, Ziya,” she said conversationally. “And you don’t want me angry with you.”
Ziya’s face crumpled like used paper because she didn’t understand anything over the roaring of her ears and it hurt to just breathe much less hear what the mad woman was saying. It worried her that she could hear Hannah’s mouth moving in such a rational calm manner when she should have been screaming.
“Ki…Kill me, please,” she whispered, her neck too weak to support the rest of her head.
“I will,” Hannah promised, as she allowed Ziya to flop down like a rag doll. “As soon as you’re done telling me everything you know.”
~~~~~~
Hannah was bored now. This game was getting old. Maybe she could just blow the damn plane up, without waiting for Krivi Iyer to show up.
She was disappointed, she had so wanted the spy hero to show up. Then, killing Ziya would be fun.
Oh, such fun.
She raised her hand to deliver the killing below, when the door to the plane shot open in an explosion of metal and fire. Hannah cursed, long and fetid as she dragged a screaming Ziya out of the cockpit to face the wrath of whoever was stupid enough to thwart her.
The Woodpecker!
A shot flew by, just as Hannah opened the door., a burst of sound that was a terrifying counterpoint to Ziya’s reedy breathing and Hannah’s own heavy breaths.
Hannah whirled and saw a nightmare.
Fifty-Two
Tom Jones, her dad, was holding a gun against her. It was aimed straight at her head, right in the middle of her eyes. And, next to him like some avenging angel who had risen from the dead to come back and haunt her, stood the hero.
The fallen hero.
Krivi Iyer.
The shock itself had her letting go of Ziya who sprawled at her feet like a broken doll.
Warrior Knight Page 33