''You... You swine. You better stay away from my daughter. I will kill you if I get...'' Dr. Kapoor was almost screaming now. The reporters broke out into a commotion hearing the screams. But nobody even had a slightest clue of the racket going on backstage. Analysing the situation, Dr. Kapoor's assistant approached him.
''Any problem, sir? Please calm down. The media is waiting.''
Dr. Kapoor pushed away his assistant and started marching up and down the backstage corridor. His heart was now pounding against his rib-cage. He clutched the phone tightly. ''Why are you doing this to me? What do you want...''
''Stop it Kapoor. What we want is none of your business, but we can assure you that the missile you designed is going to be used for something very destructive. And for your kind information your daughter just received a courier from our delivery boy. lf you choose to remain silent, the contents of the courier will remain silent. Goodbye."
Mr. Kapoor's heart could take it no more- the pounding was way above the human limits. Stream of sweat rolled down his forehead as his pulse kept on increasing. Seconds later, the chief project manager of the DRDO went into a cardiac arrest.
Chapter 10
Even before David could see them, he was able to hear his assailants as he regained consciousness. It had been a minute or two that he had been knocked out cold and now his wrists were tied with a belt behind his back, his mouth was sealed with a tape. He had been dragged to a different location- something that looked like a basement. His rifle and radio were now placed on the table beside him. Right between the table and David stood the two terrorists arguing with each other. David was able to catch some bits of conversation going on ''... so we can't kill him. He is our ticket out of here. Janab, try to understand. Killing him won't do us any good. Those commandos are just above us searching for him and it won't take them long to locate this trapdoor. It is better we take him out at gunpoint and use him as our bargaining chip.''
''No, Imtiaz! Why don't you understand it even now? We were set up from the beginning itself. That rascal left us to face death from these commandos. Enough of this nuisance. I am going to put a bullet in his head and just end this,'' the other assailant said violently.
David had made sure not to reveal to his attackers the fact that he had regained consciousness. The barrel of the gun was being pointed right at him. His brain calculated his next moves- distance of his hand from the gun, the reaction time of the terrorist pointing the gun at him, the time in which the bullet would hit him and the potential damage the bullet could do to him. The belt was already slipping off his wrists steadily and all he needed was a little distraction.
A minute later he got his distraction when his radio crackled. ''Sir, Do you copy? Do you read me?''
David didn't waste a second. The moment both of his assailants turned their heads around to face the radio, he kicked hard on the right knee of the man pointing the gun at him, leaving him disoriented. The man lost his balance and was falling down when David made his next move. He banged his head onto his attacker's, folded up his leg and punched his knee onto the chest of the terrorist, knocking the wind out of him. The other terrorist reached for his pistol, aimed it at David and took the shot but missed. A split second later, David had rolled over towards the pistol of the terrorist now out cold on the floor. He had a little problem securing the gun with that belt still on his wrists. But before the second terrorist could take the next shot, David had his gun levelled on him. Both the barrels faced each other. Both of them knew there were only 2 choices- kill or get killed. Ripping off the tape from his mouth, David made the third choice. The talk.
''You sure you are pretty good with that rifle?'' asked David.
''I can blow your freaking head off, bastard,'' Imtiaz replied. Sweat trickled down his forehead and his hand trembled as he levelled the gun on David.
''Not before I put a bullet right between your eyes,'' replied David with an icy stare.
A moment of silence followed.
David then put forth his proposal.
''I see no point in blowing each other's brains away. What if I say we can cut a deal?''
Chapter 11
Just 18 minutes after the blast, the commandos were back on their legs taking control of the situation. Their leader, Ashraf, had been rushed to the nearest medical facility immediately.
Some camera clicks were distinctly visible even though the media had been restricted beyond a 300 meter perimeter from the gates of the Presidential Palace by Delhi Police. Ashraf's subordinate Captain Raghav took command of the situation and his first move was: damage control. He walked to the steps in front of the Rashtrapati Bhawan and called out for the commandos to 'Fall In.'
It only took five swift seconds for all the commandos to stand in a packed formation.
''What has happened here is a great threat to our national security. I don't think it is necessary to mention anything about this incident to anyone- not to the press and not even to your family. We need to clear this thing up tonight itself. I don't know how you are going to do it, but by the next two hours I want a full report on the situation, the explosives used, the impact suffered, the losses- human and structural, the probable suspects and most importantly, how the hell did those bombs get into that SUV. Every tiny detail. Call in the Intelligence Bureau and take their assistance in finding the answers I need. I am going to search the west wing and find out the location to where the call was traced by the Bureau. Secure a 1 km perimeter around this place. Our secondary officials will keep the media out of this. Declare a high alert and I want the Black Cats headquarters on the line now. Disperse.''
The orders came fast. But it took no time for the commandos to assimilate Raghav's orders and then they were on their way. Captain Raghav ascended the steps and started making his way towards the west wing. Twelve monumental pillars stood firm right at the door step suffering no damage from the blast. The royal interiors of the Presidential palace greeted Raghav as he observed the temple bells that adorned those pillars displaying the Indian style used to decorate the monument.
4 floors and 340 rooms. That's a lot of space to cover. No wonder it is the biggest residence of the Head of the State in the world.
The Rashtrapati Bhawan had almost been abandoned and now only a handful of NSG soldiers and guards were interrogating the local staff. Raghav charted out the main areas of the Bhawan to cover in his mind.
The state library, the state drawing room, the private apartments, the state dining hall and the state ballroom. Where should I start?
He decided to start from the State ballroom, which was named the 'Ashoka Hall'. As Raghav entered the Ashoka Hall, his radio made a familiar beeping noise.
''Sir, Black Cats HQ is on the line,'' an electronic voice rang in the State ballroom.
''Patch me through to them,'' Raghav replied sternly.
''Capt. Raghav, this is the HQ. What's the update?''
''I am investigating the situation. May need more NSGs over here. Need to maximise President's security.''
''Copy that. We are also sending over David D'costa as per Ashraf Khan's request. Anything else?''
''Um.. Alright. What's the update on Ashraf sir?''
''Not good. The doctors have confirmed his death! Will send over David as soon as he reports back from his assignment. Extend him all the support he asks for. HQ Out.''
The Ashoka Hall gave a feel of a large jewel box. Raghav was in and out of the hall many times, yet the wooden flooring, the central dance area and the painted ceiling caught his attention every time. In his early days of duty at the Bhawan, he used to stop to admire the painting on the ceiling done in Persian style. The main painting on the roof depicted a royal hunting expedition while those towards the corners showed scenes from day to day court life. The painting was done on leather and Raghav could clearly figure out the brown tint on the white background.
He took out Chief Prakash's burnt cell phone from his pocket. The cell phone was totally damaged due to th
e blast, but the SIM card seemed quite intact. Raghav transferred the SIM to his cell phone and read out the two recent messages in the inbox.
New Message 1: Exact location- Durbaar Hall.
Message 2: Call source traced. Signal tracked to the west wing.
Raghav took the next left and climbed the stairwell dashing towards the Durbaar hall. The entire floor was vacant. All the servants and officials were sent out and the NSGs were busy searching the outside perimeter for clues.
He switched on his radio.
''I want a couple of commandos sent over to the Durbaar hall right now.''
''Roger that,'' his subordinate replied.
Aiming his gun down the sight, he slowly pushed the large creaking door of the Durbaar Hall inside. He waited for a second and then moved with his gun levelled. He checked his corners and looked up steadily. The two ton chandelier hanging from a height of 33 meters was the peculiarity of the Durbaar hall. The same chandelier now lit the entire hall. Raghav moved towards the other end of the room steadily. He recalled that the Durbaar Hall was known as the 'Throne Room' during the British rule owing to the presence of 2 separate thrones for the Viceroy and Vicereine, which were now replaced by a royal chair for the President after the independence. On the same chair now, Raghav could see something in the faint yellow light of the chandelier. It was a package wrapped in brown paper.
Another feature of the Durbaar Hall was the statue of Gautama Buddha belonging to the Gupta period, fifth century A.D, which rested against the back wall looking upon the President's throne from behind.
At the feet of the statue of Buddha was a strange looking device, a cassette player and a piece of paper.
Chapter 12
In the illuminated fluorescent green of their night vision goggles, the Black Cat commandos were now searching for their missing Commander in the main bunker. A series of muffled sounds of activity could be heard which seemed to come from underneath them. Suddenly, a hand pushed aside the inconspicuous little wooden plank which covered the entrance of the basement. The next second, all the commandos levelled their red dot sights on the hand.
David's loud voice rung from below. ''It's alright boys. Just me and a new acquaintance. You can relax your weapons.'' David pulled himself up to the ground level. If he was concerned, no trace of it showed on his face.
''You OK, Sir? What was going down there? We heard some activity. Then a couple of gunshots!''
''Nothing much. I made a deal with someone. We were both pointing guns at each other and this was the best shot I could take,'' David said, giving a diminutive version of the events which occurred downstairs.
Raising his voice, so that the terrorist below could hear him, he said, ''There's a guy down there. He has got some information for us, so I made an agreement with him. That information for his life. I have convinced him that we would not harm him in any way if he gives us the whereabouts of his friends and the locations of their underground cells around the country. So when he steps up from the basement, I want none of you to point your guns at him. He gives us the information and we let him walk. Everyone clear?''
There was a look of bewilderment on the faces of David's subordinates.
''Sir, we can't let him just get away!'' It was not a loud complaint, but a soft suggestion.
''We NEED that info. He had me at gunpoint when we made the deal. I can't turn my back on him now. Keep your weapons down. Now!'' David replied with conviction.
Everyone lowered their weapons.
''Good. Imtiaz, you can come out now. No one's going to hurt you. Just as I promised.''
The terrorist's body trembled as he sat down with his wrists bound and narrated his story.
''I don't know much about this man, but we got in contact with him 3 months ago. He claimed to have had planned an attack on India and he needed the help of our organisation. His connections with our superiors were obvious. He wired the advance payment from an untraceable account number. We don't look much into who's buying the weapons as long as we are getting our money. He not only asked for weapons, but also said that he needed 9 of our most capable men to accomplish the destruction he had planned. It was decided to deliver the weapons yesterday at this location. The nine terrorists whom he asked for were our best trained men. But he didn't come here personally. He sent us a set of co-ordinates and asked those nine terrorists to come to the location with the weapons.''
David was making a mental note of everything Imtiaz said. Every piece was falling into place. The empty bunkers, the extra beds and the intelligence report of more than ten people- all began to make sense.
But who is this guy who needed weapons and nine terrorists?
''So how did you make it across the border?''
''There are certain terrains along the border where we get a blind spot. Usually all the guard check posts patrol throughout the night, but at a certain point of time we get a window to move in.''
''And how did you clear the radars?'' Capt. Rakesh asked with an enquiring eyebrow.
''We parachuted down across the LOC. Jumped off from the plane and then the wind did its job. No chance of getting caught on the radar.''
''Tell me more about the man who contacted you. Tell me what co-ordinates he gave to you.'' David realised that Imtiaz's answers had only spurred up more questions.
''I have seriously no idea about that. Whatever information I had, I shared. Now please let me go. PLEASE.''
Taking a deep breath, David made a decision. ''Okay. Then you may leave. I don't know how you are going to make it back across the LOC. But we won't come in your way.''
Imtiaz was as dumbstruck as the rest of the commandos. He had never thought that David would actually keep his word. With trembling legs, he made a dash for the door; stumbling upon the floor almost twice. As soon as Imtiaz was out of the room, everyone's eyes were on Commander David D'costa.
''We can't just let him go, Sir. He is a threat to the nation. People like him are responsible for the bombings....''
''He is escaping sir, and we can still stop him,'' one of the commandos suggested.
The commotion about stopping Imtiaz seemed to have no impact on David; a serene smile appeared on his face as he took his time switching on his radio.
Capt. Rakesh could take it no longer. ''I am going after him, Sir!''
David put a comforting hand on Rakesh's shoulder. ''Relax Rakesh. You have done enough job for the night. Let our sniper do some work now.''
He took out a cigar from his pocket and lit it- his old way of celebrating the completion of a mission. After a deep puff on the ancient Cohiba, he spoke into his radio.
''Big Bird, an escaped terrorist just broke out of the main barracks and is heading east. Do you have eyes on him?''
The chopper pilot took a sharp curve, lowered his chopper and started searching with the spotlight. In the dark and eerie desert beyond the windscreen, he could see a tiny dot running hurriedly towards the border.
''Affirmative, sir! I have eyes on him. He's in my spotlight.'' The pilot approached the tiny fleeing dot.
''Good. Sergeant Harish, you still there with sniper support?''
''YES SIR!'' A crisp reply.
''Bravo! Consider this as your evaluation test. I want that bastard down in 3 shots.'' The calm in David's voice would have led an observer to believe that the task was rudimentary. It was not. Not even remotely.
But there was a reason Commander David was feared and highly respected amongst the Black Cats. He was no ordinary Black Cat Commando. The NSGs had a special tag for his category: Phantom Commando- something almost no civilian in the country knew about. He was amongst the top 1 percent of the sample NSGs who achieved the status of 'Phantom' on a 7 point scale. The only other Phantom in the squad was the newly recruited youngster now aligning his shot on the tiny dot getting even tinier every passing second.
The helicopter was shaking abruptly, the convict was running wildly, the drift of the bullet owing to wind correction and the dro
p of the bullet had to be considered.
Harish took a deep breath, held it for ten seconds, aimed his rifle and pulled the trigger. David heard 2 roaring shots in the silent night sky. The bullet found its mark and Imtiaz's dead body collapsed on the cold desert sand, a form lying still and curiously relaxed in that huddled shapelessness of death.
David and his team gathered some more evidence and made their way to the chopper.
''Central, this is Commander David D'costa. Me and my special task force had been assigned to mission AG158H9 earlier this evening. We successfully completed the mission taking no losses. I request you to direct the BSF to take over from here. Returning to the Headquarters now. Over. ''
''This is Central. Congratulations for the accomplished task. Now, as per the events of today's evening your task force has been re-deployed at Delhi. There was a blast at the Rashtrapati Bhawan almost an hour ago. We will be sending you the complete details. Report at the Rashtrapati Bhawan premises ASAP.''
Chapter 13
The puzzle is now assembling itself to perfection. The blast was just the beginning- Beginning of the darkest night Indian Intelligence would have ever anticipated. They have no idea how grand my 'Operation Chaos' really is.
There was no nervousness, no slightest hint of doubt in his mind and no reason why there should have been any: with two years of solid preparation behind him, he would have been amazed if anything should have gone wrong. The operation had to be executed with a surgically military precision, marked with a perfectionism that matched the scope of an U.S Marines Op. It was. The preparations had to be made in total stealth and confidentiality. They were. A split-second synchronization had to be achieved. It was. Every possible outcome of every move made and every possible departure from the plan had to be considered. It was.
Operation Chaos: A Gripping Action Thriller Page 3
