BLOWBACK

by Deva, Mukul

  ‘I have everything you gave me in Varanasi.’ Iqbal patted his pocket.

  ‘Me too,’ Imtiaz added, ‘barring whatever little I spent on food.’

  ‘Good. Then let’s go straight to the airport and get the hell out of Delhi.’ Asif began to walk faster as they approached the market. ‘I knew those idiots would get into trouble one day, especially that fucker Ashraf, he has no control over himself… jumpy fucking bastard!’ They walked in silence for a while and Iqbal heard Asif mutter to himself, ‘I just hope the cops don’t manage to take any of them alive, otherwise we are all screwed for sure.’ Cold-blooded bastard, Iqbal thought viciously. Human life has no value for him!

  With great difficulty, Asif managed to hail a cab going past and the three men began the long drive to the Delhi airport through the rush-hour traffic. Except for the sounds of the cars around them, the journey was silent and tedious, as was the late evening flight that they finally managed to catch.

  It was almost midnight when the flight touched down at Pune airport. They had just exited the aircraft and Asif had barely switched on his mobile phone when it began to ring. He grimaced and took the call almost reluctantly. Iqbal was unable to hear what the caller said, but the look of discomfort on Asif’s face heightened at once.

  ‘Mujib bhai, I have no idea how it happened.’ Mindful of the crowd around him, Asif spoke in hushed tones after the caller’s initial outburst subsided. ‘We did everything...’ Another explosion at the other end silenced him. ‘Yes, bhai. I understand... really! You are? Okay, I’ll meet you there at noon.’ The call ended and Asif lapsed into a thoughtful silence.

  The three men parted at the airport, after Asif had given them instructions for the next day. ‘Let’s meet tomorrow evening – we may have to go into action again pretty soon. Mujib bhai is very angry.’

  ‘Who is Mujib?’ Iqbal seized his chance.

  Asif replied without thinking, ‘He is the one who is helping us. He is...’ He broke off suddenly. ‘We’ll meet tomorrow.’ Then he turned and walked away. Imtiaz followed suit a moment later, leaving Iqbal to find another autorickshaw.

  So, finally, the elusive Mujib is surfacing... we’ve really shaken them up. This is the best chance we’ll have to round up the entire group – or whatever is left of it after today’s shootout. I must get word to the colonel immediately.

  Iqbal was soon racing up the steps to his apartment. He told Tanaz what had transpired. Then they flicked on the television and caught the Bardhan House Shootout, as the media had named it. No one had been taken alive.

  ‘So that is one wish of Asif’s that has been fulfilled,’ Iqbal said grimly.

  Two cops had also died in the shootout. Iqbal was pondering this as he saw file-shots of bodies being carried out to the ambulances, when the realization suddenly hit him.

  If we had not stopped to eat with Imtiaz, that could have been me they were carrying out of Bardhan House. Iqbal shivered. I don’t want to die. Not now, when I have Tanaz. Not when we are going to have our baby in just a few weeks. Not yet. A few more years with Tanaz and life will be complete. He shivered again. No! I don’t want to die.

  Tanaz wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight.

  ‘Don’t you think you should call Colonel Anbu now?’ she whispered, when she felt some of his stress lift.

  Iqbal got up reluctantly and telephoned Colonel Anbu. He gave him a detailed account of all that had happened, from the time they left Pune.

  ‘Good thing you were not in the house,’ Anbu said sombrely when Iqbal had finished.

  ‘I know, sir.’

  For a moment both were quiet.

  ‘Any idea where Asif has gone tonight?’

  ‘No sir, he doesn’t have any fixed place as far as I know.’

  ‘Damn!’ Anbu said. ‘If we could latch onto him, we could take Mujib down as well and shut down this damn network once and for all.’

  ‘I never thought of that, sir.’ Iqbal racked his brains, trying to work out where Asif might be, but he could come up with nothing concrete. ‘Now what?’

  ‘Now nothing, Iqbal, you two just stay the course for a few days more, but be very careful now. I don’t want either of you taking any unnecessary risks. I think we are very close to cracking this network wide open. In any case, we managed to get most of them in the shootout.’ Anbu sounded satisfied. ‘So don’t worry, we’ll lay our hands on the rest very soon now.’

  ‘Right, sir.’

  In his excitement Iqbal forgot all about the piece of paper lying in the pocket of his coat – the bill with the telephone number that Asif had called from the PCO in New Friends Colony. Had he remembered to pass on the number, it is possible that many lives would have been saved and the course of many others altered, for the number belonged to a mobile that sat inside Mujib’s pocket, and Mujib was at that moment lying dormant in a guesthouse a few miles away. The mobile phone company would have led the cops to him within minutes.

  But that was not to be.

  NINETEEN

  The next evening Asif looked agitated when he arrived at the coffee shop in Koregaon Park where they usually met. Iqbal and Imtiaz were already at their favourite corner table.

  ‘We have to execute another job soon,’ Asif murmured as he pulled up a chair and sat between them.

  ‘So soon?’ Imtiaz was unable to hide his surprise or his dismay. ‘And how? We’ve lost almost everyone.’

  ‘I’m activating some of the other guys who were recently recruited.’

  ‘But those guys are absolutely fresh,’ Imitaz protested. ‘Is it safe to go in only with newcomers? What’s the tearing hurry, Asif? Why don’t we take some time out to consolidate and then start afresh?’ Imitaz didn’t realize it, but he was making tremendous tactical sense.

  However, Asif looked too distraught to argue with him; perhaps he too, was unconvinced about the urgency, but unable to resist the pressure Mujib was mounting on him. This may have been why, at least for that moment, Asif spoke more freely than he normally did. ‘I agree with you, Imtiaz, but it’s not in my hands. Mujib bhai has made it very clear that we have to do it right away.’

  ‘Who the hell is Mujib bhai to order us around like this?’ Iqbal needled him. ‘He’s not the one putting his head on the line here.’

  ‘Let me put it this way, Iqbal – he’s the one who calls the shots. Even if he’s not putting his head on the line, trust me, arguing with him or defying him will only mean that we’re left without our heads.’ For the first time, Iqbal heard a note of despair, or was it fear, in Asif’s voice. ‘And don’t think he has nothing to lose. Mujib bhai is coming down for this strike.’

  Imtiaz sat up straighter at this. ‘Are you trying to tell us...’

  ‘I’m not trying anything, Imtiaz, just understand that we have to carry out one more... task… and soon.’ Suddenly becoming aware of the other people in the coffee shop, Asif checked his words.

  ‘But why the hurry?’

  ‘The papers are screaming that the Indian Mujahideen has been eliminated and there will be no more strikes.’ Asif leaned forward and kept his voice very low. ‘That’s why Mujib bhai wants us to execute one right away; to let the world know that the Indian Mujahideen is a widespread national movement, it will not die just because some of our fighters have been killed. More importantly, Mujib says that if another strike takes place, our brothers can go to town yelling that the people who died at Bardhan House were innocent, that the police faked the encounter and shot down innocent students who had nothing to do with it.’

  ‘That doesn’t make sense to me.’

  ‘It actually does, Imtiaz,’ Iqbal cut in. What a devious bastard this Mujib is, he said to himself. ‘Already some people and newspapers have begun to question the Bardhan House encounter. Another strike right now would strengthen their hands and allow them to claim that the real bombers are still at large.’

  ‘Precisely!’ Asif said, looking a little surprised that Iqbal was actually endorsing hi
s stand. ‘And this time we’ll do things very differently, with a far greater aim in mind.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, this time we’ll be using low-grade bombs and the targets are going to be a real shocker.’

  ‘Don’t talk in riddles, Asif.’ Imitaz was unable to hide his irritation. ‘What’s the point of using low-grade bombs?’

  ‘Just to vary the modus operandi and confuse the police. They won’t be sure how many groups are at work and which one is doing what.’

  ‘Okay! And what targets are you talking about now?’

  ‘I’ll tell you about that later. Right now I need to mobilize the others and coordinate our move to Delhi.’ He stopped abruptly.

  ‘Delhi?’ Imtiaz repeated in shock. ‘Are you crazy? Delhi will be in the highest state of alert after what happened yesterday. Have you gone...’

  ‘No! On the contrary, they’ll be fucking complacent after taking out what they believe is the complete cell. It’s possibly the best time for us to hit Delhi again.’

  ‘I think you’ve fucking lost it!’

  ‘Anyway,’ Asif snarled, ‘this is not your decision, Imtiaz. If you want to back out, just say so.’ He glared at Imtiaz, almost daring him to pull out. Momentarily subdued, Imtiaz backed off with a muttered ‘whatever’. Asif waited a long moment, till he was sure that the mutiny had been nipped in the bud, before he leaned back in his chair. ‘You two had better be ready to move out the day after.’

  Imtiaz and Iqbal sat in complete silence for a long time after Asif left.

  ‘I think they’ve gone crazy,’ Imtiaz finally muttered, staring gloomily at his empty coffee cup. ‘Delhi will be...’ He broke off with a helpless shrug.

  ‘What is a low-grade bomb?’ Iqbal asked, more to flatter Imtiaz’s sense of expertise and keep the conversation going than out of any real curiosity.

  ‘Come on, let’s get out of here. I need to take a walk and clear my head.’ They walked out of the coffee shop and began to stroll down the street.

  Imtiaz resumed, ‘Basically, you just bung together some potassium nitrate and charcoal in a plastic or cardboard container. You can also add ball bearings or any other metallic scrap to act as shrapnel. The damn thing can be set off with a simple fire-lit fuse or with a detonator fitted to a timer.’

  ‘So what’s the big deal if they want to use them this time?’

  ‘It’s hardly worth the effort, man,’ Imtiaz whined. ‘You go through all the stress and danger and it doesn’t do half the damage that RDX does.’

  Thank god for that! Iqbal felt better for the first time that day.

  ‘Where do you think we’ll stay in Delhi this time?’ he asked.

  ‘I have no clue.’ He mused for a while. ‘Not at Bardhan House, for sure.’ He giggled uncertainly, catching Iqbal by surprise.

  The bugger is scared! But then, so am I.

  They walked on in silence for some more time before Iqbal made his excuses and returned home. He was itching to get back and report to Colonel Anbu.

  ‘Are you sure it’s Delhi again?’ Anbu asked when Iqbal had finished briefing him. ‘Is there any chance that he is misleading you?’

  ‘I think it’s Delhi, sir, because it just slipped out of his mouth. But with Asif one can never be too sure. He is one devious bastard.’

  ‘Okay, Iqbal,’ Anbu replied after a moment’s thought. ‘I think we’ve taken this as far as we want to. I am going to...’

  ‘Sir,’ Iqbal interrupted, ‘please let’s proceed with this just a little longer. We’ve got them on the run and I’m confident that this time, we can take Mujib down too. He’s the key. If not the main supplier and financer, he is certainly the main conduit and the one who is allocating the targets and planning the strikes.’

  ‘Hmm. What you’re saying may be true, but I think we’re playing it too close to the edge now. The additional risk isn’t justified.’

  ‘Please sir, just this last one,’ Iqbal pleaded. ‘We’ve gone so far and are so close to wrapping it up. Landing someone as important as Mujib is going to be a big blow to them.’

  ‘That’s true, Iqbal, but we may not be as lucky a third time. What if they manage to detonate the bombs?’

  ‘Sir, right now we have a very fair chance of bringing them down without having any bombs go off, but if Mujib gets away he’ll simply find more Asifs and then there’ll be many more bombs exploding all over the place.’

  ‘Hmm... yes, you’re right.’ Anbu rapidly evaluated the situation and made up his mind. ‘Okay, listen, this is what we’re going to do. Instead of trying to second guess Mujib and Asif, I want you to ensure at least one GPS locator is on you all the time from now on. Make sure it’s a part of your clothing. I suggest you use the GPS belt, it’s the most innocuous.’

  ‘Right, sir.’

  ‘Have you reset it since you last used it?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Changed the battery too.’

  ‘Excellent! Activate it only when you’re sure you’ve identified Mujib and know where the bombs are.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Unless, of course, the bombs are about to be deployed and I don’t have an option.’

  ‘That’s right. Remember, Iqbal, the belt locator battery doesn’t last very long.’

  ‘I’ll keep that in mind, sir.’

  ‘Excellent! Delhi works well for us since we can have the whole team on standby and move in as soon as you activate the GPS signal. Since you say Mujib is going to be there, we can get the whole network and shut down the op… but I’m warning you again, Iqbal, it’s becoming increasingly dangerous.’

  ‘I’m aware of that, sir. Asif is now extremely wary. He’s literally jumping at shadows. In any case, sir, Imtiaz and I are the only remaining links to the previous failed strikes, so we have no choice but to take them all down this time; they’ll know it’s me as soon as this operation fails.’

  ‘I’m glad you realize that, Iqbal. We’re very close to the endgame on this one. You have to be very careful now. Don’t take unnecessary risks.’

  ‘I won’t, sir, please don’t worry.’

  ‘Good!’

  Anbu didn’t put down the phone when the call ended. He waited for the dial tone and made a series of other calls. One by one, the cogs began to move. Soon the various components of Force 22 began to converge in Delhi.

  Anbu’s second set of calls activated the ATTF and BDS teams. Slowly but surely, Delhi began to move to a heightened though silent state of alert.

  In Pune, a frown marred Iqbal’s forehead as he put down the phone and turned to Tanaz. Anbu’s final words lingered in his mind and he was suddenly besieged by a sharp sense of unease. Tanaz caught the feeling instantly.

  ‘What’s the matter, Iqbal? Is something worrying you?’

  ‘No, nothing really.’ He tried to shrug off the feeling, not wanting to worry Tanaz.

  ‘Tell me about it, Iqbal.’ She touched his cheek in a gentle caress. ‘What’s bothering you?’

  ‘I don’t know, Tanaz, it’s nothing specific… I just don’t have a good feeling about this trip.’ He shrugged again. ‘I can’t explain it… just one of those things, I guess.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Iqbal, things will work out.’ She forced a bright, cheerful smile. ‘They always do in the end.’

  ‘I know. I know they will.’ He smiled at her, trying to embrace her optimism. ‘But I don’t feel good about leaving you alone this time.’

  ‘I’m never alone, Iqbal.’ Pulling him into the warmth of her embrace, she buried her face in his chest and whispered softly, ‘Do you know, whenever you are away and I start to feel lonely or scared or upset, I just close my eyes and lean back in my mind and immediately, I can feel your arms around me, holding me close.’

  Her words drove a hard, painful spike of love through him and his arms tightened around her. He was keenly aware of the anguish she suffered every time he left her alone and moved out on one of these trips. He knew that though she always put up a brave front, she worried h
erself to death as she waited for him to return.

  Words eluded him as he tried to will away their fears and comfort her.

  ‘Don’t worry about me, Iqbal… just come back to me safe and sound,’ she whispered as he tried to reassure her. ‘And if you ever start feeling alone or low, just do what I do: close your eyes and lean back in your mind. I’ll always be there to catch you, just as you catch me.’

  ‘Promise me that!’ He pushed back the tears and hugged her tighter. ‘Promise me you’ll always be there to catch me, and I’ll be fine. As long as you are by my side, I can take on the world.’

  ‘I promise. I’ll always be there to...’ Just then the tiny life nestled in Tanaz’s womb came awake and kicked. Iqbal felt the surge of life reach out and touch him. ‘See!’ Tanaz murmured, ‘even our baby is telling us that everything will be fine.’

  All at once, the need and time for words was past. But try as he might, sleep eluded Iqbal that night. Something told him they would all be caught by surprise with what lay ahead.

  TWENTY

  The first surprise was that they flew to Delhi, instead of taking the train.

  ‘What’s the deal, Asif bhai?’ Imtiaz asked when he realized they were heading for Pune airport. ‘How come we’re flying?’

  ‘Time is at a premium, miyan. Nothing else to it,’ Asif said with a shrug. ‘In any case, this time we are not carrying anything... problematic.’

  ‘Who is getting it there then? Someone coming in from Kochi?’

  ‘No! Not this time.’

  ‘Then?’ Imtiaz persisted.

  ‘What’s your problem, Imtiaz? Why are you suddenly so damn inquisitive?’ Asif eyed him suspiciously. It was obvious that he was still upset about the recent failed strikes and trying to fathom the reason behind them. ‘I told you it will be there, so it will be there. Why bother about who is bringing it and where it’s coming from?’

  ‘What the hell!’ Imtiaz muttered angrily before lapsing into a sulky silence. And that was all the conversation they had for the remainder of the journey.

  None of the three noticed Ankita watching them as they checked in, collected their boarding passes, cleared security and headed to the departure area.