The Eye of Shiva

by Alex Lukeman

  "People like him think they're smart enough to control the outcome," Nick said. "They never think the missiles will fall on them. Or else they think they've figured out how to survive and that means they win."

  "What if Cobra isn't motivated by winning?" Selena said.

  "What else would it be?"

  "Hate. Revenge. Religion. Love."

  "How do you get love in there?" Lamont asked.

  "Shakespeare did it all the time. Love and hate are just flip sides of the same feeling."

  Nick thought about what she had just said. If you didn't care about winning, you had nothing to lose. An enemy with nothing to lose was the most dangerous kind of opponent. An enemy with nothing to lose who wanted a nuclear war and the ability to make it happen was a nightmare.

  More trucks filled with troops sped past them, heading toward the mosque.

  "What's our next move?" Lamont said.

  "Time to bring Harker up to date and see what she wants us to do."

  Nick touched the transceiver in his ear. "Director, you copy?"

  "Copy, Nick. Go ahead."

  "Things are going south over here."

  He told her about the attack at the mosque.

  "Any sign of Afridi or Cobra?" Elizabeth said.

  "Negative."

  "Where are you now?"

  "Heading back to our hotel."

  "This changes everything," Harker said. "It makes war between Pakistan and India a certainty."

  "I thought the same thing."

  "Keep trying to find Afridi."

  "We need more Intel or we'll never find him."

  "I'll see what I can do," Elizabeth said. "Be ready to get out of there in case things start to heat up."

  "I think they already have," Nick said.

  CHAPTER 42

  The threat of war had sent tourists and businessmen packing, leaving a glut of rooms in Srinagar. The hotel they'd settled on was nearly empty. They had the entire top floor to themselves.

  Selena stepped from the shower and began drying off. She wrapped a towel around her hair and walked across her room to the window, leaving damp footprints on the wood floor. It was raining, a steady, depressing rain that fell from skies thick with gray cloud. Selena looked out over Lake Dal and watched the rain.

  Nick and Lamont were in rooms to either side of hers. She didn't feel like dealing with her feelings about Nick right now. They were all tired and separate rooms had seemed like a good idea. Nick hadn't argued about it. She was grateful for that. At the same time, it made her feel sad.

  There was a soft noise behind her. She turned her head in time to see a silent, dark shape coming at her. There was a gleam of steel in his left hand. He wore a black ski mask. She could see his eyes, black pupils wide, intent on murder.

  Years of Korean martial arts training and conditioned reflexes took over. She spun and blocked the knife thrust and kicked out. The blow landed off-center. Her attacker stumbled and recovered. He turned and came at her again. She pulled the towel from her hair and whipped it around his arm, pivoted and pulled him past. The knife sliced along her ribs under her breast as he went by, a sharp clean pain. The front of her body was suddenly slick with blood.

  She held onto the end of the towel and jerked hard and leapt into the air. She struck him in the chest with one of her feet. Something cracked. He grunted and staggered back. She landed and pulled down and around and back, twisting his arm into an impossible angle. The shoulder joint gave way and he let out a muffled scream of pain. The knife clattered across the floor. She pivoted to land a kick to his spine and slipped in her blood on the polished floor.

  She landed hard on her hip. Pain shot down her leg. Her attacker scrambled for the knife and she swung her leg and tripped him. He landed on his back. She rolled and brought the hard edge of her rigid hand down on his throat. A choking, gurgling noise came from his mouth. Blood ran over his lips.

  She rolled away and got to her feet, breathing hard, and watched him die.

  A fist pounded on the door.

  "Selena. Selena, open up." Nick's voice.

  She went to the door and unlocked it.

  Nick and Lamont were in the hallway. Nick saw the blood.

  "You're hurt."

  "I'm all right," Selena said. "I think."

  He looked beyond her at the motionless figure on the floor.

  "Lamont, watch the hall. There could be more of these guys."

  "I'll be right outside," Lamont said.

  Nick stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He guided her over to the bed.

  "Sit down."

  Nick saw a hotel bathrobe hanging by the bathroom door. He took it and draped it over her. Red spots began to appear through the white cloth. He went into the bathroom and got some towels. He wet one, came back out, opened her robe and gently began cleaning away the blood. He held a dry towel against the wound until the bleeding slowed. The cut was eight or nine inches long, the flesh laid open in a wide gash.

  "It's nasty, but it's not too deep," he said. "It needs stitches."

  "There's a kit in my belt pack."

  He found the kit. He cleaned the wound with disinfectant and sprinkled antibiotic powder on it.

  "This will hurt."

  Nick began stitching the edges of the wound together. She winced as he worked.

  "What happened?"

  "I'd just come out of the shower and I was watching the rain. I heard a noise. When I looked, I saw him coming at me. He must've been hiding in the closet. He was good, he almost had me. I hurt him but he kept coming."

  "He must be one of Cobra's men."

  Selena began shivering. "I feel cold," she said.

  The shivering turned into shaking. Her whole body shook. Nick put his arms around her and held her close.

  "I...don't know...why..."

  "Shh," he said, "shh. It's all right. It's just a reaction, it'll pass soon."

  He held her for what seemed like a long time before the shaking stopped.

  CHAPTER 43

  Stephanie came into Elizabeth's office, her face flushed with excitement.

  "Cobra," she said. "I've got him. I hacked into RAW's computers and took a look at their personnel files. Then I pulled a record of all the phones issued by the agency and referenced it against that list and Cobra's encrypted number. Cobra's information was behind four layers of security. He's the Secretary for Special Operations at RAW, the equivalent of our DCNS. His name is Ashok Rao."

  "That explains how he had the resources needed to fake those calls," Elizabeth said.

  "I also found out who Ijay is. He commands a black ops unit that works under Rao. He has birthmarks that remind people of the spots of a leopard. That's how his group got their name."

  "Very poetic. I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that they were the ones who blew up the Indian Embassy in Manila."

  "It might be hard to prove that."

  "We have a bigger problem to worry about," Elizabeth said. She briefed Stephanie on what Nick had told her about the Hazratbal mosque.

  "Nick said it was a massacre. Automatic weapons turned against unarmed civilians."

  "It must be what Cobra meant in that phone call," Stephanie said, "about the Army being ready."

  Elizabeth shook her head in disgust. "He has to be stopped. It's too late to prevent a war. Indian soldiers firing on Muslims at a holy shrine is the last straw."

  "What are you going to do about Rao?"

  "I'm going to tell Rice what we found out and let him decide. Without presidential authorization he's untouchable. I can't do anything right now except let Nick know who he is."

  She picked up her pen and set it down again.

  "Rao is trying to start a war. Why?"

  "His file was extensive," Stephanie said. "He's a Hindu nationalist and was an active field agent in Afghanistan for several years before he was singled out for promotion. His wife and son were killed in a terrorist attack by Afridi's group. He blames Pakist
an and he hates Muslims."

  "Lots of people in India hate Muslims and Pakistan too. They don't try to start a war because of it. Rao may be psychotic."

  "If he's crazy, he's doing a good job of hiding it," Stephanie said. "The only medical notes in his file are routine. His psych profile shows tendencies toward violence and paranoia but that wouldn't be unusual for a field operative. "

  "Anything else?"

  "He has a high IQ. He comes from an acceptable caste for his position, but he's risen as high as he's going to. It's a little unusual that he got that far, which says a lot about his ability. He's also a devotee of Shiva. That's not unusual in India."

  "How old is he?"

  "That's another thing," Steph said. "Rao is sixty-one. He's facing involuntary retirement next year."

  "So if he doesn't act now, he'll lose access to the resources he's using to stir up trouble."

  "That's right."

  "Steph, you just painted a picture of a dangerous man."

  "We already knew he was dangerous," Steph said.

  "Yes, but he sounds like he's more than just paranoid and violent. He could be delusional. What kind of person sends soldiers with loaded weapons against a peaceful crowd?"

  "You're saying he's a psycho?"

  "I think he may be," Elizabeth said.

  Steph said nothing.

  "The president is going to love this," Elizabeth said.

  "When are you going to tell him?"

  "Today. We need to take this man off the board before he does any more damage."

  CHAPTER 44

  On the ride over to the White House Elizabeth thought about what she was going to tell Rice about Ashok Rao. She was convinced it was Rao and not Pakistan that had planned the attacks against India and the U.S. in Manila. There was enough evidence for her. Would it be enough to convince Rice to take action?

  She watched Washington's cityscape pass by. She passed the Smithsonian. Large signs proclaimed an exhibition about ancient navies and warships. It made her think of her father and something he'd said to her. She'd been around twelve years old.

  Judge Harker liked to build ships in a bottle. It could take him a year or more to complete a single ship. When the model was ready, the masts and broad yards were folded down and in, so that the hull could be slipped through an opening just wide enough to accept it.

  Elizabeth had been watching him get ready to install his latest creation, a miniature version of Admiral Nelson's flagship, the 104 gun HMS Victory. It was a masterpiece, the jewel of his collection. The canvas sails were white and crisp, the paint work bright, the black cannons run out and ready for action. A tiny figure of Nelson in his blue and gold uniform stood on the quarterdeck.

  "Daddy, don't you ever get worried that you'll break it when you put it in the bottle?"

  "In the beginning, I did, when I first started building them."

  "But not now?"

  He smiled. "No, pumpkin."

  "Why don't you worry?"

  "Because I trust that I know what I'm doing."

  "My teacher was talking about certainty in class today. Is trusting yourself the same as having certainty?" Elizabeth asked.

  Her father had laid his tools down and looked at her.

  "That's a very good question. I'd say that they're almost the same but not quite. Sometimes you have to act as if you're certain about something because you trust your judgment and knowledge."

  "Even when you're not certain?" Elizabeth had said.

  "Even when you're not."

  She had to trust her judgment, even though she couldn't be one hundred percent certain she was right. If Pakistan had planned and executed the attack on the American Embassy, they had become an active enemy. If that was the case, any strategy Rice formed to deal with the crisis on the subcontinent had to take that into account. The intelligence she was bringing to him challenged the assumption of Pakistan's guilt. It could change the entire U.S. position regarding Pakistan and India.

  An aide escorted Elizabeth into the Oval Office. President Rice sat behind his desk. With him in the room was Clarence Hood, Director of the CIA. Both men rose when Elizabeth entered the room.

  "Director. Thank you for being so prompt. Please, take a seat."

  That was Rice's way, to thank people for doing what was expected of them. As if she would ever be late for an appointment with him.

  "Thank you, Mister President. Hello, Clarence."

  "Elizabeth."

  Rice sat and Hood followed. Elizabeth chose a peach-colored upholstered chair in front of the president's desk.

  Clarence Hood was tall and almost thin. He looked tired, his skin color a little too close a match for his light gray suit. His eyes were rimmed with red, the product of stress and late hours. Elizabeth liked him. In the shadow world they both worked in, he had earned her respect.

  Rice looked even more worn out than Hood, almost exhausted. Without the makeup that made him appear robust for the cameras, his face was pale and lined, unhealthy looking. The strain he was under was evident.

  "You said you had disturbing information concerning India and Pakistan," Rice said. "I thought it might be a good idea if Clarence sat in on this meeting."

  "Yes, sir," Elizabeth began. She plunged in.

  "Sir, I believe that the embassy attacks in Manila were a false flag operation conceived and executed by a rogue official high up in India's intelligence agency. I am also convinced that the same individual instigated the riot in Srinagar at the mosque. All of these acts were carefully planned as provocations to push India and Pakistan into war."

  The effect of her words was shock. She might as well have thrown a dead fish onto the president's desk.

  Rice sat up straighter in his chair. "You have proof of this, Director?"

  "Yes, sir, or I would not be sitting here."

  "Go on."

  Elizabeth proceeded to brief the two men on what she had learned. When she was done, Rice looked at the DCI.

  "Did you have any indication of this, Clarence?"

  "No, sir. But what Director Harker has said ties together some loose ends. The assault on the Indian embassy has never made sense as an operation by ISOK. It's too far from their home base. It makes a lot of sense if it was a false flag op designed to move Indian public opinion and political will toward war with Pakistan. I admit it never occurred to me that anyone except Abu Sayyaf was behind the attack on our own embassy. They certainly had enough reasons."

  "I believe they were planning the attack," Elizabeth said. "I think that Cobra used it as an opportunity to point the finger at Islamabad."

  "Cobra?" Rice said.

  "Sorry, sir. My codename for Ashok Rao."

  "This is a real mess, Director."

  "Yes, Mister President."

  "Clarence, what kind of a relationship does Langley have with India's intelligence agency?"

  "It's mixed, Mister President. To be blunt, we haven't always told the Indians everything we knew about what was going on in Pakistan. We needed access for our supply route into Afghanistan. Self interest dictated how much we decided to tell New Delhi about what Islamabad was up to."

  "You mean they don't trust us," Rice said.

  "Yes, sir. That about sums it up."

  "They're not going to be happy if we tell them that their Secretary of Special Operations is a traitor."

  "No, sir, I don't imagine they will."

  Rice turned his attention to Elizabeth. His blue eyes bored into her.

  "Director, how certain are you about this?"

  "The phone calls are damning, Mister President. I'm as certain as I can be. This man is to a great degree responsible for what's happening over there."

  "What action would you recommend?"

  "He has to be neutralized before he does any more damage," Elizabeth said. "We should let Gupta know what we've found out."

  "Gupta?" Rice said.

  "The Secretary of the Research and Intelligence Wing, Mister President." Hoo
d said. "I've met him. He won't believe us, not without hard evidence."

  "I have the recordings of Rao's phone conversations," Elizabeth said.

  Hood seemed doubtful. "It might be enough. On the other hand, our past history with the Indians regarding Pakistan doesn't lend us a lot of credibility. As you pointed out, phone conversations can be false."

  "He must be neutralized," Elizabeth said again.

  "You've made your position clear, Director," Rice said. His voice bore an unspoken warning. Don't push it.

  They waited for him to speak.

  "This is intolerable," he said. "I expect war to start at any moment over there, and you're telling me it's all because of one man who wants revenge for a terrorist attack that killed his family?"

  "Yes, Mister President," Elizabeth said. "Although he may not be acting alone. He seems to have extensive resources. I'm not sure where they come from, but it isn't from his government."

  "A conspiracy, then?"

  "It's possible."

  As she said it, a thought occurred to her.

  Could it be AEON? It can't be, not again.

  AEON was a secret organization of wealthy men with roots going back to the time of the Templars. For AEON, the world existed to be exploited and controlled.

  Elizabeth had thought them defeated. Even as she told herself it couldn't be, she knew it was possible. She kept the thought to herself.

  "Sir, my team is in Kashmir as we speak. There may be an opportunity to intercept Rao and question him. But I need your permission."

  "That's refreshing, Director. You usually don't ask."

  Elizabeth flushed. "You usually don't want to know, sir."

  Oh, oh, Hood thought. Rice won't like that.

  Before the president could respond, Hood interrupted.

  "Mister President, I think Director Harker's idea has merit. I'll do my best to convince Gupta that Rao has gone rogue, but there's no guarantee he'll believe me. Langley has a few assets in Kashmir. Director Harker and I can work out a joint operation to, ah, persuade Rao to talk with us. If you give us the okay, we can get on it right away. Things are moving quickly over there."