***
The travel time from Aurangabad to Mumbai is less than 45 minutes by air. But we were faster than usual. Though riding a chopper, I thought that we would make it in about 30 minutes to the Mumbai airport. After about 15 minutes into the flight, the pilot signaled me to put on the headphones. Unlike what I had seen in the movies, the ambient sound was manageable without them. The inside of this chopper is like a spacious hall with 10 seats. The windows must be good because the din of the rotors is hardly over a constant hum. So I figure that it must be something for my ears. I put them on.
“Mr.Hormaz is on the line.” The pilot says. I nod.
“Jagtap, we have a situation in Bandra that involves Mushtaq for sure. We are trying to confirm that, we are also trying to talk to him. He may be in charge.” Hormaz does not waste any time in getting to the point.
“I have asked the pilot to get you as close to the scene as possible. But we may not have enough time. You need convince Mushtaq’s mother. Have her ready to talk to Mushtaq as soon as you are here. If we can’t make him change his mind about what he is about to do, it will be bad. There are numerous lives at stake.” Hormaz continues. Great. You have lives at stake & who is supposed to motivate the suspect’s mother, a guy from the economic offenses wing. I hope the guy talking to Mushtaq is better prepared.
“I will see that she is ready when we reach there. What is the situation?” I ask. Hormaz describes it to me. He tells me about the train having been stalled on a bridge over the bay. He tells me the evaluation by the experts & the solutions proposed by them. And in the end he tells me about the plan to drown the wagons with the engine. He ends the description with the fact that this is one of the few local trains in Mumbai that has a central locking system for the doors & that the doors have been locked with all the women inside. If the train tips over, they go into a watery grave in minutes.
“What?” I jump in my seat with surprise. Bastards! Bastards!
“Calm down Jagtap. Remember, this will work best if we keep emotion out. Now get on with it.” He terminates the call. I stare blankly into the wooden paneling of the chopper. Everyone else is looking at me with concern. There is an empty chair besides Mushtaq’s mother. I walk over slowly to occupy it.
“What is it? Is he dead?” Her face goes white with fear. No, it is worse than that.
“Do you want to help Mushtaq?” I ask her in a voice that is as even as I can manage.
“Yes. I want to help my son.” Her resolve returns both in the words & on her face.
“Then you have to get ready. You will have to help us stop him from doing this.” I blurt.
“What are they up to? Tell me!” She shouts. I suddenly get flyer’s ears. Even the low hum of the rotors is not audible. Explaining to a mother that her only son might kill a few hundred innocent women at the flick of a switch, another first for me in this case. It is awful. I am short on words, high on nervousness but right with the substance. I convey everything that I know so far to her. Ulhas & Bhavna are subdued by the details but they know better than showing their emotions. The silence after I finish, seems to go on & on.
“We will be landing in Bandra in five minutes. Please get back to your seats.” The pilot’s announcement comes as a welcome break. It is only after the announcement that I see that Mushtaq’s mother has gripped Bhavna’s hand again. The grip seems as firm as the resolve on her face.
***
“Do I tell him that his mother is on her way?” Khan had asked.
“No. He can’t be told about it, yet. His mother is our trump card. We don’t tell him about it. We show it to him. Make sure you keep him talking.” Hormaz explained.
“But I am not trained for this!” Khan complained as he climbed into the open metallic buggy that the railway maintenance personnel use. It was not more than a 5feet-by-5feet iron platform that had wheels like a railway coach. They had put up a vertical rod with a white sheet as a flag right in the front of the buggy.
“That is the point Khan. We don’t have a trained man here. We have to do with the best that we have. I know you can do this. Just be calm.” Hormaz answered.
Then he watched Khan’s buggy proceed slowly towards the train. He had arranged for Khan to have a radio that was tuned to the train’s frequency and he was also tuned into the same frequency with a speaker. Khan had another earpiece in his ear that was going to be used as a channel between him & Hormaz. Khan had been asked to stop his buggy on the bridge. Khan’s buggy rolled without hiccups till it was within 20 meters from the train. Khan raised his hands & turned around to show that he was unarmed. Then he spoke into the radio.
“Hello Mushtaq, my name is Ashfaq. Please, we have to talk.” No response from the train.
“You don’t have to do this. This is not a solution. I know about you Mushtaq. I know what they did to you.” Khan continued.
“What do you think of it?” A childlike voice spoke back from the train. It was Mushtaq after all & he was not making any attempts to hide himself. Khan recovered quickly to respond.
“Well, had I been as young as you, I may have started down the same path as you. But revenge never helps.” Khan continued speaking. Hormaz knew the hook had held. He reached for his cell phone. The National Security Advisor answered immediately.
“Sir, we may have a window of 30-35 minutes to act. Nothing more than that.” Hormaz appraised his boss. There was a long pause.
“Do you have a plan of action?” His boss asked.
“Yes Sir.” Hormaz replied.
“What is the worst case damage?” The voice turned oddly mechanical.
“If we act swiftly, we may be able to limit the casualties below 10 percent of the hostages.” Hormaz felt the weight of every letter that he uttered choking his windpipe.
“Go ahead Hormaz. Leave the rest to me.” The call was terminated. Hormaz drew a long breath. Then he reached for another radio.
“Is your crawler in place?” Hormaz asked.
“Yes Sir. Sapola is ready.” The baby snake is ready to crawl.
“Get him to cut the wagons loose of each other. We have limited time.” Hormaz commanded.
“On it, Sir.” The man snapped.
The plan was to disable the joints of the 14 wagons from each other starting from the back. The NSG had the railway technician with them & had deduced that it was possible to disable the couplings while retaining the continuity signal to the driver cabin. The train was a digital machine where the driver would be informed if a compartment was no longer connected to the engine. But the technician explained that it was a pair of motion sensors that carried the connectivity status to the engine. So if all the physical joints were unscrewed & a breakable tag positioned on the joint to hold the sensors together at every compartment, the sensor would continue to flash the compartment as latched till the weight of the engine or a leading compartment snapped the tag. There was no way the train was going to move now. The tracks had been barricaded on either sides of the bridge.
Hormaz returned his focus to the talk that Khan was having with Mushtaq. Mushtaq had gone quiet but Khan was speaking like a possessed man. He was cajoling Mushtaq without exciting him. Mushtaq seemed receptive. But Hormaz had another suspicion. What if Mushtaq was waiting for something? A signal, a phone call? His train of thoughts was broken by a message on the NSG channel.
“One secured, thirteen to go.” The message was short. One of the wagons had been secured there were thirteen more.
“Khan, thirteen to go.” Hormaz passed on the count to Khan.
***
The helicopter lands atop Prakashgad. The headquarters of the state electricity board, it is a huge building with a sprawling terrace. But I doubt if a helipad on the roof was part of the original design. I don’t notice any chipping in the floor or dangling columns after getting down so it must have been built well. The reception party is waiting. How do I know? Well, each one of them is wearing a windcheater carrying the NIA logo. All of us from the chopper a
re rushed into the lift which thankfully traverses till the roof. The leader of the group tells me again that we are headed for the bridge near Bandra station. Our ride is a black Tata Safari. Streets have been emptied out with traffic blocks as we zoom in an entourage of red beacons. I nod once at Mushtaq’s mother, which is more like a query. She nods back. Bhavna & Mushtaq’s mother are seated in the passenger seat of the Safari while I have taken up a seat in the back with Ulhas. I check my mobile phone for news updates. None of this is being reported so far. How long before that happens?
We reach the bridge shortly. Running into the famous Mumbai mangroves at the beginning, it is lined by all sorts of police vehicles. There are cars, towing vehicles, SUVS & bikes. It looks like a small cantonment. At least a thousand cops are on this side of the bridge. As the Safari progresses steadily to reach the end of the vehicle column I see a man standing right next to the tracks. We get down & the NIA man points at him. I take that as a directive & lead Mushtaq’s mother, Bhavna to him with Ulhas. The man looks like a corporate employee. He is dressed in a flat front trouser & a half sleeved shirt. But I get a feeling that he has been wearing them since yesterday. There is a table in front of him that holds a mobile phone & two radio sets. He also has a wire that disappears into his left ear. This must be Hormaz.
“What do you mean there are no sensors?” He shouts into a radio. There is transmission from the other side.
“Great. So 10 wagons of this train are motion sensor based & 4 that are from the old stock that require wires to report couplings?” He stamps his feet in frustration & turns to face us. He goes rigid as soon as he sees us.
“Hold on.” He speaks into the radio.
“Jagtap?” He asks.
“Yes Sir.” I reply. He then looks at Mushtaq’s mother. I nod to convey her readiness.
“Here is what we are going to do. Ask the Sapola to wait for another buggy to come up behind Khan’s. As soon as that buggy touches with Khan’s he is to start cutting the remaining wagons loose. Without bothering for keeping the wires connected. ” He switches to the other radio on the table.
“Khan, I am bringing his mother in. Let him know.” Hormaz signals for a railway maintenance buggy to come up the tracks. He climbs in immediately gesturing Mushtaq’s mother to follow. Bhavna joins her without hesitation. I follow her too. Ulhas can’t come aboard as the buggy is crowded.
“Are you sure about this Jagtap?” He asks me cryptically. I see Bhavna’s determined face.
“Yes Sir.”
“Very well.” He whistles loudly to signal for the buggy’s release. It screeches at the wheels but starts moving steadily towards the bridge. Hormaz then connects his earpiece to a handset that he has kept with himself. He wants us to hear. Next voice that I hear is a familiar one.
“So why are you doing this Mushtaq?” Khan speaks with conviction.
“For every Muslim killed in the riots.” Mushtaq speaks.
“No. That can’t be an answer Mushtaq. You are doing it for yourself. You want someone to pay for what you were put through. Even if it means killing these innocent women, none of whom has ever hurt you.” Apart fromMushtaq & Khan’s voice, I hear a consistent, repeated banging in the background. Hormaz looks at me.
“They know. Inside the train. They know that something is wrong & they are getting agitated.” He says with a dread on his face. Then I realize what he meant by me being sure about this. He is taking Mushtaq’s mother to the bridge to let him see her. And there is a rescue act in progress. So even if Mushtaq realizes that something is amiss, he may not blow the train up after seeing his mother. But if he goes mad & does exactly that, I hope that everybody knows how to swim. Because somebody is going to have to help me as I can’t. This guy has a twisted brain.
As we approach the other buggy, I see Khan speaking into a radio.
“So again. Who are you doing it for?” He persists with his question.
“My mother! My mother!” Mushtaq shouts & cries too. Mushtaq’s mother jerks at this. Bhavna puts a hand on her shoulder.
“Would she approve of this?” Khan moves in for the kill.
“I don’t know. But this is all I can do for her now. I don’t care if it is right or wrong. I am beyond help. If I don’t do this, she will be in danger.” Mushtaq breaks down.
“Why don’t you ask her?” Khan suggests in a hushed tone. Our buggy touches with Khan’s. Khan steps ahead to get down from his buggy. Me, Hormaz & Bhavna stay back in ours. Bhavna nudges Mushtaq’s mother to go forward. Khan helps her to the front so that Mushtaq can see her from the windshield. Then Khan hands her the radio.
“Mushtaq, beta.” The mother calls her son.
There is more sobbing now from the other end.
“You can’t do this. Please don’t do this!” She urges.
“You don’t know Ammi..” He starts explaining through his sobs.
“I do. I know you. I know my son won’t do such an evil thing.” She says. I hear a “Three to go” message on Hormaz’s other radio. Khan takes the radio from her.
“Listen to your mother Mushtaq. Don’t do this. We will help you out.” Khan says. There is more sobbing & silence.
After what seems like eternity, we see a figure looming out of the driver cabin. Mushtaq climbs down slowly from the cabin. He walks with effort towards the buggy. I hear a “Two to go” message on Hormaz’s radio. Hormaz whispers an order to stand down on his other radio. Mushtaq comes to the buggy & hugs his mother. They both cry themselves out. Khan helps both of them stand up again as the buggy is ready to move back to the side we came from. Mushtaq has just his cellphone in his hand. Neither Khan nor Hormaz try to apprehend him in anyway. I assume a strategic position behind him so as to negate any fleeing movement or intent.
Mushtaq’s mother looks Khan in the eye & asks “The part about helping my son out, did you mean it?” Khan does not answer but I notice his being shaken up at this question. Mushtaq’s mother looks away without saying another word as the buggy starts moving.
We are about to reach the end of our buggy ride when Mushtaq’s phone rings. He is frightened by it.
“It’s him! It’s him!” He shouts. Then he faints in the buggy. Bhavna checks his pulse as his mother shouts his name. Bhavna lays him on his back and clears everybody out. The doctor in her takes over.
“The pulse is fading. He is having a heart attack!” Bhavna shouts. Ripping apart Mushtaq’s shirt, she begins pressing Mushtaq’s chest with the palms of her hand.
“Get me an ambulance!” Hormaz shouts into the radio. Bhavna has no luck even after a couple of minutes. I am watching her go about it.
“Here.Pandurang, keep pressing here.” She points at his chest. Then rises from Mushtaq’s sprawled form with purpose. I obey immediately to keep pressing at Mushtaq’s chest.
“The ambulance will be here in five minutes.” Hormaz shouts. Mushtaq’s mother is sobbing loudly now. Khan is holding her back. Bhavna is fumbling with her purse. She finds what she is looking for quickly though. It’s the tazer that she showed me. She holds it carefully.
“Back away Pandurang.” She pushes me away. She takes a visual measurement again. Then drawing a deep breath, she turns it on & pushes it into Mushtaq’s chest. His torso arches upwards as the current flows through it. His body falls down on the buggy with a thud. Bhavna checks for a pulse but does not find one. She readies the tazer again, but Mushtaq suddenly draws a huge breath. He starts coughing & rolling on the buggy at the same time. But he looks alive. His mother rushes forward again. She holds Mushtaq’s face in her hands as tears roll down her cheeks. The ambulance arrives shortly to take them away with Bhavna.
Police personnel rush in hundreds towards the stranded train. Getting out of those closed wagons should be some relief for the women on the train. And I am sure it is an equal relief for us cops too.
“Where is his phone?” Hormaz shouts. It seems that during the heart attack, the phone in Mushtaq’s hand was lost. It could have even gone o
ver the bridge. But it was definitely the phone that threw Mushtaq out of his bearings. I start looking for it but am shaken by a vibration. Then a tune starts playing. It is the theme of “The Game of Thrones”. The vibrations are coming from my backpack. I excuse myself slowly to a spot away from the vehicles. I take Ulhas along too. It is time to see the last videos created by Achhu. And maybe he was killed for that.
35
Shikaar
We stand facing the column of vehicles to get sufficient warning if someone approaches us from that side. It also gives us a better direction away from the sun so that the display of the Nautilus looks clearer. I open the top box containing the display unit. It shows a dialog on the user interface.”Do you want to open the files?” Yes & No buttons appear below the question. I choose “Yes”. I raise the volume of the tablet to full as the video player starts. The first frame shows Achhu against a faded wall with peeling paint. To see the very person whose death you are investigating can be unsettling. But I concentrate. Incidentally, he is wearing the clothes that we found him in. This looks like a webcam capture, but the audio-video quality is crisp.
“My name is Achhu. If you are seeing this video, then I may not be around.” He speaks in fluent English. So he knew what could happen. There is a pause as if he is thinking of rephrasing the “may not be around” with something more severe. But he overcomes the urge and continues.
“I have not been a perfect citizen. You may know that. But all my previous mistakes have been based on impulses or error in judgment. This time however, I was trapped into being a part of something anti-national. That I can’t be. Never.” He says with a fierce resolve. Then he goes onto describe how he was introduced to Ishtiyaq by Sumit. He describes his visit to Aurangabad in short & mentions Mushtaq & Ijaz. He suspects they too have been misled like him. Then he comes to describe what this was about.
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