BLOWBACK

by Deva, Mukul

  ‘You’re right, Asif,’ Imtiaz said, ‘they’ve already started forcing the Pakistan Army to conduct operations against our brothers in the NWFP and Baluchistan.’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry too much about that,’ Asif remarked with a knowing smile. ‘The Pakistan Army is too smart to actually do anything. Sooner or later, they will do something to instigate the Indians and force them to deploy the Indian Army on the border. The minute that happens, Pakistan will have a legitimate excuse to pull out their forces from the NWFP and move them to the Indian border. That will put paid to any efforts to suppress the jihad.’

  ‘What do you mean, Asif?’ Iqbal asked innocently.

  ‘It’s simple, really. You think the Americans can do anything on their own in these areas? The minute the Pakistan Army moves out of NWFP or FATA (Federally Administered Tribal Areas), Afghanistan will fall back under the Taliban’s control. So, for that matter,’ he added after a moment’s pause, ‘will Pakistan.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ Iqbal could not control the shock that pulsed through him. Luckily for him, the others were so caught up in the conversation that they misread his horror as excitement.

  ‘Exactly what you are hearing, my friend.’ Asif smiled, a pleased, almost affectionate smile. ‘America cannot and will not retain troops in Afghanistan forever. They are always ready to deliver their famous shock and awe from the skies, but seldom put their troops in the line of fire. They just don’t have the balls for a fight when their own people start dying.’ He laughed derisively. ‘And when that happens, it’s just a matter of time before the Taliban takes over Afghanistan and Pakistan. They will restore Islam to its pure, original state.’ His voice rose as he declaimed, ‘Nothing can stop our march then. We’ll see that the Islamic crescent rules the world.’

  They fell silent after that, each man immersed in his thoughts. Then Asif turned to Iqbal again. There was something in his manner that altered the atmosphere instantly. All three of them knew that the moment of reckoning was at hand. The recruiter had decided the time was ripe to make the final pitch.

  ‘That is why, my friend, I ask you again, as our good old friend George Bush put it so eloquently, are you with us or against us?’ He levelled a hard, unwavering look at Iqbal.

  Live the lie, Iqbal.

  ‘With you, obviously!’ Iqbal retorted, his eyes steady as they met Asif’s.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Asif’s voice throbbed with barely controlled energy.

  ‘Of course!’

  ‘It could well mean your life one day.’

  ‘One must have a reason to die, rather than nothing to live for.’

  ‘Well said, Iqbal. That’s very well put,’ said Imtiaz admiringly, repeating the words softly. Iqbal ignored him, his eyes still fixed on Asif.

  ‘It’s a one-way street, Iqbal.’ Asif held his gaze, and now there was a hint of menace in his eyes. ‘Once you join us, there’s no going back.’ Iqbal didn’t reply. He just nodded, letting his eyes do the talking for him.

  ‘Good!’ Asif leaned closer to Iqbal until their faces almost touched. ‘If you ever betray our cause... if you ever let us down… you will not live. Neither will those close to you.’

  Iqbal started up angrily. ‘Are you threatening me? What gives you the bloody right to question my faith?’

  ‘I’m not doing either.’ Asif was unfazed by his outburst. ‘I just want you to know the way things are in this world you want to enter.’

  ‘Just tell me what I have to do to prove myself,’ Iqbal retorted, glaring back at him.

  ‘I will.’ Asif pulled away abruptly and leaned back in his chair. ‘When the time is right, I will. For now, just prepare yourself and be ready to move quickly. The time is not far when we will strike at the kafir again.’

  ‘Again? You mean...’ Iqbal left the question hanging between them.

  ‘All in good time, my friend.’ A cold smile settled on Asif’s face. ‘Just be ready.’

  ‘I am,’ Iqbal said firmly.

  He pushed back his chair and took his leave of the other two, barely able to conceal his excitement.

  FOURTEEN

  A week later, Asif was waiting for Iqbal outside the Golden Heritage complex when he returned from the institute.

  ‘Hi!’ Iqbal did his best to conceal his shock. ‘What a surprise! Just passing by, or did you come to look us up?’

  ‘I need to park this with you.’ Asif pointed at a battered, dirty grey VIP suitcase near his feet.

  ‘Is that your luggage? Are you going somewhere?’

  ‘No!’ Asif lowered his voice. ‘It’s the stuff we need for our next operation. Let’s go in.’ He picked up the suitcase, which was obviously a lot heavier than it looked. ‘I’ll tell you about it inside.’

  As they entered and Iqbal switched on the lights, Asif asked him, ‘No one at home? Where’s your wife?’

  ‘She must have stepped out for some household stuff. She should be back by six or so… that’s when I normally get back.’

  ‘Great, we have time then.’ Asif looked at his watch. ‘Here, let me show you.’ He placed the suitcase carefully on the dining table and unlocked it. On top was a layer of clothes. When he removed them, the actual contents came to light. Iqbal suppressed the shock he felt when he saw the array of detonators and slabs of RDX inside. Forcing an expression of innocent curiosity on his face, he asked, ‘What’s all that? Are they…’

  ‘The materials we need to make the bombs.’ Noting his surprised expression, Asif gave a pleased laugh. ‘I thought it best to leave it here. After all, with your wife staying with you and this being a nice, quiet residential colony, it’s the last place anyone would think of looking for such things.’

  ‘Is it safe?’ Iqbal leaned forward and touched them gingerly.

  ‘Of course it is.’ Asif grinned wickedly. ‘Unless you decide to plug in the detonator, wire up the timer and start it.’ Moving with practised ease, he pushed one of the detonators carefully into a slab of RDX and then pointed at the wires of the timer that needed to be attached to the detonator. ‘We plug that into a power source, start the timer, and boom!’ He threw up his free hand, his fingers opening out like a flower.

  ‘Wow!’ Iqbal whistled appreciatively.

  ‘Anyway.’ Asif unhooked the items, covered them with the clothes again and shut the suitcase. ‘Let’s get this out of sight before your wife gets in. She’ll freak.’

  ‘That’s true. She may support me in my cause, but doing that and actually seeing bombs in the house are two different things.’ Picking up the suitcase, Iqbal carried it into the spare bedroom and slid it under the bed. ‘There! That should be good enough.’

  The two men returned to the living room.

  ‘So when do we move out?’ Iqbal tried to keep his tone casual.

  ‘Probably the day after tomorrow.’ Asif saw the flush on Iqbal’s face. ‘Excited?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course!’ Iqbal laughed. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘You’ll come to know in due course,’ Asif replied, ‘when the time is right.’

  ‘Oh, I see!’ Iqbal looked offended. ‘You don’t trust me, Asif?’

  ‘I do! Why else would I leave that stuff with you?’ He gestured towards the bedroom in which the suitcase was kept. ‘But there are some basic security rules that we all have to follow. You see, what you don’t know, you won’t be able to give away even by mistake.’

  ‘Right! I understand.’

  ‘Anyway, I guess I’ll move on now.’ Asif made to leave. ‘We’ll get together tomorrow afternoon.’

  Asif had been gone just a few minutes when the door opened again and Tanaz let herself in. She was carrying a bag full of vegetables. Iqbal was onto her before she could even put the bags down. He quickly briefed her about Asif’s visit.

  ‘Fantastic! What a break!’ Tanaz said. ‘You must call Captain Sami right away.’

  ‘That’s exactly what I was going to do.’ Iqbal retrieved the tiny Sony mobile handset from his
pocket and dialled a number.

  Just two miles away as the crow flies, Sami answered his phone. He, along with Tiwathia, Dhankar, Khare and Ankita were parked at the Officers’ Mess behind the military hospital at Khadki. Anbu had given them carte blanche for this operation.

  ‘Hi, Iqbal, what’s up?’

  Iqbal quickly filled him in on all that had happened. ‘What do we do now? You guys want to move in and take them down?’

  ‘It’s way too early for that, Iqbal. You know only these three or four guys. The group is much bigger, we already know that from the strikes they’ve carried out till now. Secondly, we need to know much more – their sympathizers and supporters and most importantly, their planners, financers and suppliers.’

  ‘Why? If we take these guys in, we can get the truth out of them.’

  ‘Maybe we can, but by that time the others will have vanished. We’ll never get our hands on them, especially if they decide to cross the border like they normally do.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Iqbal, some of his initial excitement abating. ‘So, what do you want me to do?’

  ‘First, I want you to open the suitcase and photograph it. Take careful note of the way everything is packed.’

  ‘I don’t see why,’ Iqbal said impatiently.

  ‘You’ll have to make sure that when you finish doing what needs to be done, everything is repacked exactly the way you found it,’ Sami explained. ‘You see, we don’t know what kind of person Asif is. Maybe he packs things in a particular way, whether by habit or by design. He may realize that the stuff has been tampered with if he finds it packed differently. That’s why the photos are necessary. You can refer to them as you repack. Got it?’

  ‘Right!’ Iqbal was impressed by Sami’s thoroughness. For a moment it occurred to him that he was lucky Sami and he were on the same side. He felt his confidence begin to rise as he hauled out the suitcase, placed it on the dining table, opened it and began to take photos using the 8-megapixel camera in the deceptively tiny Sony handset that he had been given in Kasauli. ‘I’m done,’ he told Sami when he called him again.

  ‘Good! Is your phone linked to your laptop?’

  ‘It is now.’ Iqbal clicked the Bluetooth icon on the laptop, mating it with the phone.

  ‘Perfect! Now take out all the bomb related items and start clicking them. Meanwhile, tell Tanaz to retrieve the photos from your phone and email them to me.’

  They went to work rapidly. Tanaz retrieved the photos from the camera’s memory and emailed them to Ankita almost as soon as Iqbal clicked them.

  At the other end, Dhankar began to analyse each photo as it came in. It took him only a few moments to break down the components and understand the type and construct of the bombs that they would be used to make.

  ‘It’s a fairly simple device, Iqbal,’ Dhankar said, taking the phone from Sami. ‘The Integrated Circuit is the key we can use to get the bombs to malfunction. Have a look at the seventh photo you sent.’ He tapped the picture of the tiny IC chip that glowed on the laptop screen in front of him. ‘That’s what is going to trigger the bombs. Just take all of them out and then rejig them as I tell you.’

  ‘Hang on then. Let me get the goody bag out,’ Iqbal replied. Dhankar grinned, because that was what he called his own toolkit. They waited as Iqbal retrieved the toolkit from the false base of Tanaz’s vanity case.

  Using the computer link between them, Dhankar talked Iqbal through the process, ensuring that none of the ICs could send out the required current to trigger the detonators. He also got Iqbal to embed a GPS locator in every IC.

  ‘Use the smallest ones from the set I gave you,’ he said. ‘The microdot ones.’

  ‘Will they have the power we need?’

  ‘They will, once the bombs are hooked up,’ Dhankar clarified. ‘The way we’ve rejigged the ICs, it will be the GPS locators that use the bomb’s power source instead of the impulse being passed on to the detonators.’

  ‘Right! Got it! Give me a minute.’

  ‘Take it slow and easy, Iqbal,’ Dhankar cautioned. ‘You have to be careful you leave no trace of your work.’

  It took them nearly three hours to take care of all the ICs.

  ‘That’s the lot.’ Iqbal finally leaned back in the dining chair, rotating his shoulders to relieve them of stress.

  ‘Good! Now pull the first picture back on your laptop screen and use it to repack everything exactly the way you found it. While you’re doing that, ask Tanaz to delete all the photos and emails from the laptop and the phone memory. Clean it out fully. Nothing pertaining to this should remain in the memory.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it.’

  ‘And call me back as soon as you’re done.’

  ‘I will,’ said Iqbal. He remembered what Ankita had told him: ‘We’re not going to call you because we wouldn’t know who else is with you at that time, so it’s always you who must call us.’

  ‘What if there is an emergency? How will you reach me?’ Iqbal had asked worriedly.

  ‘We will. Trust me,’ she had said with a confident smile. ‘When the time comes, you’ll see how.’

  The memory comforted him now as they went to work. Thirty minutes later, the suitcase was back under the bed. The laptop and camera had been cleaned up.

  ‘It’s all done,’ Iqbal finally reported in, giving a detailed account to Sami, who clicked through a mental checklist to ensure they had not missed anything.

  ‘Well done, guys.’ The appreciation in Sami’s voice came across clearly. ‘Delete the call history from your phone and get some sleep. Now we just have to wait for the operation to blow up in their faces.’

  ‘As long as the bombs don’t explode, I’m fine,’ Iqbal said with a laugh.

  ‘Don’t worry, Iqbal. Dhankar here knows all there is to know about bombs. Why do you think we call him the ultimate blowjob?’ They all laughed.

  It was a satisfied set of people who finally took to their beds that night. So far, things had gone without a hitch.

  Inshallah, they will continue to do so. That was the last thought in Iqbal’s mind before he fell asleep, with Tanaz snuggled up against him. He sighed with contentment as he rested his palm against the tight swell of her stomach. It was good to feel the life within.

  Once again, Asif was waiting outside the apartment complex when Iqbal returned home.

  ‘Come on,’ he said impatiently as Iqbal came closer, ‘we need to move fast.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Iqbal was unable to mask his anxiety. ‘Some problem?’

  ‘Our train leaves in exactly one hour and forty minutes,’ Asif replied, ‘and you know how lousy Pune traffic is. Come on, grab the suitcase and let’s move.’

  ‘Train?’ Iqbal was taken by surprise. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘I’ll tell you on the way, let’s get the stuff and move now.’

  ‘What do I tell my wife?’ Iqbal protested.

  ‘Why do you have to tell her anything?’

  ‘Come on, yaar,’ Iqbal protested, ‘she is due to deliver in just a few weeks. She’ll want to know why I’m leaving her at this critical time.’

  ‘Tell her we have to go to Mumbai for an institute project and we’ll be back the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘Are we going to Mumbai?’ Iqbal was trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

  ‘No,’ Asif replied, ‘but how will she know?’

  ‘Okay, give me a moment to tell her,’ Iqbal said with a resigned expression on his face.

  Tanaz was not pleased to hear that Iqbal would be gone for two days. Aware that Asif was listening to their conversation, she complained bitterly and at some length about being left alone at such a difficult time. The performance seemed to go down well with Asif: he turned away to hide the smirk on his face when Iqbal emerged from the bedroom with the suitcase and his own carry bag.

  ‘Do you have a mobile?’ Asif asked when they were at the door.

  ‘Yes. Don’t we all?
’

  ‘Not on these missions, we don’t,’ Asif replied shortly. ‘Leave it behind.’

  Iqbal was about to protest but decided against it. Pulling his mobile out of his pocket, he meekly left it on the dining table.

  Fifty minutes later, they were at the Pune Junction railway station, rushing along the noisy, crowded platform. By the time they had run up the metal overbridge and pushed their way down the crowded staircase onto the platform from which their train would depart, both were drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. The suitcase seemed to be wearing Asif down. He was nearly diagonal, one hand flung out to balance the weight.

  ‘Surat? Are we going to Surat?’ Iqbal panted, trying to catch his breath as they boarded the 1096 Ahimsa Express.

  ‘That’s right!’ Asif nodded.

  ‘So what was the big secret?’ Iqbal protested. ‘You could have told me. Unless you trust people, how can…’

  ‘I’ve already told you, Iqbal, there are some things you just don’t question… operational security is one of them,’ Asif retorted curtly. ‘You like it, fine; you don’t like it, that’s also fine.’

  Iqbal bit back an angry retort as he grabbed his bag and boarded the train.

  At the other end of the platform, alerted by Tanaz’s call as soon as Asif and Iqbal left the apartment, Tiwathia watched the two men board the train. He waited till the train was ready to move before he boarded the same compartment. Luckily, it wasn’t too crowded and he managed to find a vacant berth from where he could keep an eye on his subjects. By now Asif and Iqbal had been joined by Abid and Imtiaz.

  What a jolly crowd. Tiwathia watched the silent, almost sullen quartet settle down for the night. Then he reached for his mobile phone and shot off a text message to Sami.

  Within minutes, a helicopter took off from the Indian Air Force base in Lohegaon with the remaining members of the Force 22 team from Pune on board. It gained height, then steadied on the flight path for Surat.