03:02

by Mainak Dhar

  ‘Will you kill me?’

  He asked the question in lightly-accented English as I sat down across him.

  ‘How would you want to be treated?’

  ‘As a warrior would treat another.’

  I held his gaze as I responded, ‘Warriors do not slaughter boys or abduct women.’

  He smiled, showing stained teeth. ‘Maybe in your world, but for us, that is part of our warrior code. Those women are just spoils of war.’

  ‘Let’s cut the bullshit. What did you want to tell me?’

  ‘I fight for my cause with blind devotion and your media may call us fanatics, but I am a reasonable and educated man. I was an engineer in Egypt before I answered the call for jihad. I have heard that idiot’s screams from next door, and I have no desire to be tortured. What do you want to know?’

  ‘What are your plans?’

  He began to laugh, something I found crazy for a man in his position. ‘You watch too many movies, my friend. Do you think I know any grand plans that those above me have? I am a mere mujahid and I fight where and whom I am asked to. I slay infidels and protect the true believers. My job is not to understand, let alone question, the grand plans my leaders make. But I have heard rumours, as every army on the march does, and I know that your nation is not the only one feeling our wrath. The infidels sought to destroy our Caliphate in the Middle East and now our Caliphate has reached their lands.’

  Without warning, I reached out and hit him, a blow to the nose that rocked his head back. When he looked at me again, blood was flowing out of his nose and the smile was gone.

  ‘I’m a reasonable and educated man as well, but if you come to my home and fuck with my people, then I don’t have patience for your bullshit. If you really are of no use to us, then I’ll just cut your throat and throw your body in the gutter. And I hope you don’t believe the crap your Brit friend did about us being soft. I hope I’ve killed enough of your friends for you to not harbour such hopes.’

  The smug smile had been replaced by a look of cold hatred. ‘You sit here, pretending to run your army, while all you are doing is postponing your inevitable slaughter. You have no idea what you are up against and what the stakes are.’

  I said nothing; I leaned back in my chair, watching him and waiting for him to say more.

  ‘You think we are here to occupy your airport, take over your neighbourhood and abduct your women? We will do that all anyway, you infidel dog!’

  Torture didn’t seem to be necessary. All it took was for us to piss this guy off, so I hit him again, a back-handed slap across his face. ‘Are you done ranting or do you have anything important to say? You’re wasting my time. I have a marriage party to get to.’

  His hands were tied in front of him but he lunged at me. I moved to the side and slammed his face down on the table. He screamed as his nose hit the table.

  ‘Come on, big boy. You’ll find taking me on is a bit tougher than shooting five-year-old boys or raping little girls.’

  I pulled him to a sitting position and sat down opposite him again.

  ‘You don’t look quite as reasonable and educated as you did when your nose wasn’t broken. I wonder how you’ll look when I break one of your hands.’

  His face was contorted with rage and pain as he spoke. ‘I have heard them talking. The American devils have destroyed our homeland in a nuclear fire, but we are spreading our Caliphate all over the world. The whole world shall now be ruled by us, as we bring the black flag to every corner of your towns. As we follow our Caliph. You know nothing of what you are facing, kafir! The centre for our new Caliphate is here, from where the Mughals once ruled the greatest Islamic empire the world has seen. The Caliph himself is flying in as we speak, to begin ruling our Caliphate from here. With the mujahid and the weapons that will flow in, and with our brothers who have been in place even before the start of the Great Jihad, your little army will crumble.’

  I sat back, stunned by what I had learned. We were not just one front in the war that was being waged across the world. We were at its very epicentre. We were not just facing an outpost of the enemy, but its leadership. The man in front of me was laughing and I hit him again, just to relieve some of the tension that had gripped me after his revelation.

  As I got up, Shaikh was there by the door.

  ‘Well done. Now what? What do you want me to do with this piece of shit?’

  ‘Unlike the Brit, he’s not likely to sow fear among his friends if we send him back. Also, he’ll tell them we know about the Caliph.’

  Shaikh nodded, ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of him. What about the Caliph?’

  I remembered news reports from before the Blackout, of how the so-called Caliph had come out of relative obscurity, from being a prisoner in American custody, to leading an army of his warriors in waging a bloody and brutal campaign to establish their Caliphate across the Middle East. If he truly was in Mumbai, they would concentrate even more forces and firepower here and fight even harder, for we were not just resisting their occupation but standing in the way of their very reason for being—setting up their new centre of power.

  I motioned for Shaikh to come out of the room before I answered. ‘We need to get this information to the government and the armed forces. The good news is that, if they can launch a strike and take him out, then we’ve cut off the enemy’s head.’

  ‘What’s the bad news?’

  I answered truthfully. ‘If it’s just us against the Caliph and the whole army that will no doubt come in to lead his war, then we have no real chance.’

  SIXTEEN

  ‘Garuda Three reporting, sir. We have some critical information that we need to share.’

  ‘Garuda Three, this is Vishnu. Call in five minutes and we will have everyone here.’

  Shaikh, Ronald and I spent the next five minutes in silence, wondering if the government would be able to get some air power or troops to us fast. Vishnu was the call sign for the underground bunker where the Prime Minister and top military brass were based and directing all military operations across India.

  When Shaikh contacted them again, I heard the Prime Minister’s voice and a few more voices I didn’t recognize. One of them, whom Ronald whispered to me was the Chief of Army Staff, took charge of the discussion and asked us to report what we had learned. Shaikh filled him in on the interrogation and the news of the Caliph being in Mumbai. I could sense that they were as stunned to hear the news as we had been, and there were a few seconds of silence. Finally the Army Chief cleared his throat and, to my surprise, addressed me. ‘Aaditya, can your forces take the airport?’

  I had to pause before replying. We had a motley crew of people, almost all of whom had never held a gun before the Blackout. It was one thing to call ourselves the Azad Hind Fauj, to get inspiration from that and to launch limited guerrilla attacks on the enemy, but the answer to the Chief’s question was obvious.

  ‘Sir, we have close to forty firearms and improvised explosive devices and one RPG, but that will not be enough to take the airport. Our people are not trained or experienced enough to pull that off. They can defend their positions and use ambush and explosives to do so, but attacking the airport will be suicide as we’ll have to go through the approach road with no cover and no armour.’

  The General seemed to be tapping his fingers on a desk and the noise carried to us. ‘Right. I appreciate the honesty, Aaditya.’

  ‘Sir, can’t we launch air strikes?’

  ‘We’re working on it. There are only a handful of Sukhois that have the range to get there and we need some of them to guard against any flights coming in from the north or east. As you’ve heard, the eastern sector is also active now. But even if we could get a few birds there, there’s no guarantee we’d kill the Caliph. We’d need boots on the ground to ensure that.’

  Ronald chipped in. ‘Sir, are there any more trains with troops coming?’

  ‘We are pulling them together, but we had to divert some to the e
ast to defend Kolkata. Ideally, we should strike fast, while they’re unaware that we are privy to the information that the Caliph is in Mumbai. It would be ideal to get him while he’s at the airport, assuming that is where they are going to set up their headquarters. If he slips out into the city of Mumbai, it’ll be like finding a needle in a haystack.’

  Suddenly something struck me and I spoke up. ‘Sir, forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but aren’t we thinking of this in conventional terms which made sense before the Blackout? We’re trying to get big Army columns to the battlefield, we’re waiting to organize air strikes. But look at the people fighting here with me. None of us were soldiers before the Blackout, yet we’re doing what we can. Instead of waiting for a huge Army column to get here, couldn’t we get some forces personnel and all the weapons we can get from Goa? Doesn’t matter if they are pilots, mechanics, guards or sailors. They’ll be much more prepared than the accountants, teachers, maids and office workers who make up our army here. They’ll have far more military training and, even if they carry small arms, we may have the numbers and training to storm the airport while you organize air strikes to take out their heavy weapons.’

  Ronald slapped my back. ‘Brilliant! Sir, there are a dozen more MARCOS on missions around Mumbai. We can send word out for them to get here and join the attack. It may not work, but it beats waiting for things beyond our control.’

  I could sense hesitation on the other end and I spoke up, more convinced now of my plan after hearing Ronald. ‘Sir, what we lack is long-range marksmanship. A dozen MARCOS could really help pin down the enemy and take out scouts. Once we get close enough, we will fight to the death and make sure there is a toll on the enemy. We know what is at stake.’

  They asked for a few minutes to think through the proposal and then the voice that responded was not the Army Chief, but the Prime Minister.

  ‘Son, you are truly doing justice to the name Azad Hind Fauj, and justifying our faith in you. A lot of us will be counting on you and your forces. As we speak the Chief is co-ordinating with Goa and a team comprising pilots, cooks, mechanics, guards and some military families is going to be leaving soon in two buses. They should take about twelve hours to reach you. We will also try and arrange for air strikes and get the MARCOS to link up with you. May God be with you. Perhaps years from now, when people look back on this war, they will realize just what a turning point this was, and how ordinary Indians made it happen.’

  As we signed off, Ronald and Shaikh got to work contacting Goa and their fellow MARCOS to co-ordinate with them. I stepped out. This was my wedding day, a day that was meant to be filled with joy; a day when, if only for a short time, I had hoped that I could focus on being with Megha. That was not quite how things had turned out.

  Ronald had advised us not to tell everyone in the community about what we had learned. Till the reinforcements came, the information might panic people and it was probably better to only tell them who and what we were up against when we could do something about it. I saw people milling around, many headed for guard duties as the sun began to set, and others going home to spend time with their families. If these people had to storm the airport in the face of a determined and well-armed enemy, I wondered how many of them would be coming back alive.

  Mahadev pulled over in the jeep, interrupting my thoughts. ‘Megha madam says that you should come straight to the Meluha. She’s waiting there for you.’

  I tried to push all my worries away as Megha lit the candles on the table and we poured ourselves some wine. This was our honeymoon treat organized by the community. Kundu had agreed to dig into the stocks of ready-to-eat pouches he had kept for longer-term use and we had a meal of paneer butter masala, pulao, and dal makhni, all washed down with some wine. Before the Blackout, I remembered complaining about how ready-to-eat meals could never compare to freshly-cooked food, but after days of eating mashed bhaji and baked beans, the meal tasted delicious.

  ‘Aadi, you look worried. Is everything okay?’

  I toyed with the food, wondering how much to tell her, and then decided it would not be fair to burden her with worries to which I had no solution to offer, and which we could do nothing about for the time being. Even then, there were some things I could share with her.

  ‘Four more flights came in today. God knows what other weaponry they’ve brought in, or how many more men have come in. We are better prepared than we were, but I don’t know if it will be enough.’

  Megha put her hand on mine. ‘Ronald, Shaikh, Akif, Ismail and the others are all out today on duty. If they need you, I know you’ll be out there fast, and I won’t stop you, but can I at least help you forget those worries for just a few minutes? Could we pretend for just a little while that we are going to enjoy our honeymoon?’

  An hour later, we lay together in bed in the darkness, her head resting on my chest.

  ‘Megha, are you asleep?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just have a normal honeymoon? Go off to the Maldives or Australia or wherever you like, and just spend a few days with nobody but each other.’

  ‘We can’t do that, but we do have the here and now, and unless you’re too tired, we can make the most of it.’

  I lifted her face to mine, kissed her and showed that I was certainly not too tired.

  Later, having finally banished thoughts of enemies lurking in the darkness, I began to drift off to sleep. It was so quiet outside that it was easy to believe that we were indeed on our honeymoon in some resort somewhere, far from worries, far from civilization. Megha was already sleeping and I closed my eyes.

  Just then, I heard the sharp crack of a high-powered rifle, followed seconds later by two more shots.

  I jumped up, pulled on my clothes, grabbed the gear I could and ran downstairs. Reality had just brutally intruded into the make-believe world I had allowed myself the luxury of indulging in for a few hours.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  Ronald silently handed me the night vision glasses and through them I looked out from our Ghatkopar checkpoint towards the small bunker where the old man would have been, waiting for his chance to avenge his family. I could see two legs splayed out on the ground, and the rest of his body inside the bunker.

  ‘Bastards must have brought in snipers and taken him out with night vision optics. I guess the time for amateur hour is over.’

  I sat back against the checkpoint. The same thing had happened at both our other bunkers: a single shot had taken out our sentries in the blackness of the night. The enemy was sending us a clear message, that they still had surprises up their sleeves and that the days of sending overzealous young recruits like the Brit we’d captured were over.

  ‘At least they’re taking us seriously,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, now they’re treating this as a military operation, not just another civilian society to be rolled over. I wonder what and who they’ve flown in recently.’

  I was thinking of the three old men who had volunteered to be in the bunkers, and whom I had effectively sent to their deaths. I longed to lash out and avenge them in some way, but in the darkness and with snipers out there, the enemy had the advantage. I heard a dull thud, followed a split second later by a whistling noise, and before I could react, Ronald had thrown himself on me and flattened me against the ground.

  ‘Mortars!’

  Several more explosions rocked the area around us and it took me a second to realize that they were not targeting the checkpoint. They were firing into the societies, targeting the families inside. I pushed Ronald off me and stood up to see smoke coming out of at least three buildings where rounds had struck home.

  ‘Hold the checkpoint, we need to see how badly people are hurt!’

  I rushed inside the society with Mahadev and we caught Guenther near the clinic. The two ambulance auto-rickshaws were already at work, ferrying the injured to the clinic, and Kundu was leading some people in trying to put out the fire that was blazin
g where a mortar had struck a parked car that still had some fuel in its tank. It was a scene of absolute carnage. I met Megha, who had pulled on the red sari she had worn for the wedding. There was no need to say anything, her expression said it all, and my heart went out to her for not hesitating a second before she jumped in to help those in need. She was carrying a boy who had been cut across his legs by shrapnel and was bleeding badly. I took him from her and ran to the clinic as she followed me.

  ‘Doctor, how many casualties?’

  Guenther looked at me grimly. ‘At least fifteen wounded and perhaps five or six dead, but we’ll know for sure when we take stock of all the damage.’

  Mr Sinha was on the road outside, organizing an evacuation of families from the higher floors, and an ever-increasing number of people were now standing around Central Avenue.

  ‘Mr Sinha, they’ll be sitting ducks out there in case they fire mortars again. We need to get them to cover.’

  Mr Sinha looked around. ‘Where? The high rises are a death trap as mortar shells can hit the buildings on the way down. Wait, I have an idea.’

  He shouted out to Anu who was rallying people from her building to safety. ‘Anu, let’s get people in the underground parking lots. They’re the closest thing we have to a bomb shelter.’

  The word spread and people began moving to the parking lots in several buildings. Some of them were talking about the damage to their homes, but most just looked shell-shocked. This was the first time the enemy had targeted the families living within our community, and the sudden and savage violence was not something they had been prepared for.

  I reached Mahadev’s jeep and checked in with the others on the radio. ‘How are we doing, guys?’