Weapon of Vengeance

by Mukul Deva

  They had traveled on the same flight, but unlike Ruby, he looked rested and refreshed. Not surprising, since he was unaffected by her emotional turmoil.

  Good! Ruby smiled. At least one of us is cool. She sure as hell was not.

  “Feeling distraught is normal when one has been subjected to severe trauma,” the agency shrink had told her when she returned to London after Rehana’s funeral. Ruby’s erratic behavior had prompted her boss to send her for therapy posthaste. “There is not much you can do about it. Just be aware that your mind may wander and try to control it. Everyone has a different way of processing grief. Apparently, this is your way.”

  Damn stupid way. Ruby frowned. But she’d had to cope. And live with it. Try to live with it. Especially since she had thrown away the medication as soon as she left the man’s office. Having her mind stuck on a Prozac-shelf was not for Ruby. She now hauled herself back and concentrated on Mark.

  Looking at him made her feel better. She’d thought of him the minute she decided to take on this mission, which was as soon as Uncle Yusuf had come to know about the peace summit. So much had transpired since then. She smiled as she remembered her conversation with Mark only yesterday.

  “Hey! How are you?” He’d sounded so pleased.

  “I am very well, thank you. How are things with you?”

  “Same old, same old. There doesn’t seem to be much happening. Certainly not the right kind of stuff … stuff that interests me and pays the rent. So I am catching up on life … tending to the garden and painting the fences … y’know…” He’d laughed.

  Ruby knew Mark had quit the service a few months ago and was now freelancing.

  “That can get kind of boring.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Well, I may have something for you.”

  “You? Naah. The government doesn’t pay enough.” She’d expected that. “Besides, haven’t you heard, I quit working for them.”

  “Mark, this one is personal. Nothing to do with the agency. And the money is better than good.” Ruby knew that, for the right money, Mark was the ideal man to watch her back—ruthless, resourceful, and ready to follow orders.

  “Is it, now?” He’d made a humming sound. “Want to tell me more?”

  Ruby knew he was on. “Not right now. You will have to trust me.”

  “I do. You know I do. Implicitly.” Mark chuckled. “As much as you trust me. How many times have we watched each other’s backs?”

  “Often enough. Why else would I call you, Mark?”

  “And here I was thinking you called because of my lovely smile and beautiful body!” They’d both laughed. “When and where do you want me? And how long will we be gone?”

  Ruby’s spirits had lightened when he said that. “We move out tomorrow. We should be back in two weeks.”

  “That’s it, eh? Short assignment.”

  “Yep. Short and sweet. And lucrative.”

  “That’s my type.” A laconic laugh. “Where are we headed?”

  “India, eventually.” Momentarily, just the mention of India unleashed a whirlpool of raw emotions inside her; about her father … a father who abandoned me … he means nothing to me. Without realizing it, she made a dubious moue. Doesn’t he? She pushed away the thought. Not now!

  “India, eh? Exotic! Sounds good to me.” He’d made that humming sound again. “Say, boss,” Mark asked, somewhat bashfully, “we flying coach or—?”

  “First class, Mark. Nothing but the best for you, mon ami. Your ticket will be in your mailbox shortly. Meet me at Heathrow a couple of hours before the flight.”

  She knew it was a happy Mark who’d put down the phone. He looked happy even now as they came out of the Colombo airport and headed toward the taxi stand.

  * * *

  Traffic in Delhi is never easy. These days, with construction taking place all over the city and the massive influx of games’ tourists, it was maddening. To make things worse, Delhi had not seen such heavy rains, not in the last forty years.

  As the car labored through clogged streets, Ravinder wondered what it was that the Home Minister wanted to discuss, hoping for no more unpleasant surprises; their first meeting had been one hell of a shocker. His mind fled back to that day.

  “Have you heard the good news, Gill?” Thakur had greeted them with a big smile when Mohite and he reached his office that day. “India is hosting the Israeli–Palestinian Peace Summit.”

  “We are?” Ravinder was stunned. One glance at Mohite’s face and he realized the news was not news to him. Damn the man! When will he learn to play for the team? “The Israelis and Palestinians are talking? That’s a surprise, considering the recent terrorist attack on Jerusalem! When did that happen, sir?”

  “That’s what triggered it off. The Americans … in fact the entire international community, has put a lot of pressure on them. Everyone is fed up with the endless bloodshed.”

  “And India will have the honor of playing host,” Mohite chimed in. “Just imagine! We may help peace return to the Middle East.”

  “Yes, we are going to be doing exactly that.” Thakur beamed. “Isn’t it great?”

  “When is it?” Ravinder ignored their euphoria, preferring to focus on the practicalities.

  “Exactly two weeks from now.” Thakur would not stop beaming. “This is our chance to showcase India.… It is going to be the most critical and game-changing event of our times.”

  “Two weeks?” Ravinder was floored, but the other two were so caught up in their enthusiasm that they missed it.

  “Precisely. It starts on the thirteenth of October.”

  Thirteenth! The number sent a shiver up Ravinder’s spine. Too much had happened to him on that particular date … and none of it good.

  “But that is exactly when the Commonwealth Games are due to start, sir. Such an event will require massive security, and we are already hard-pressed for resources.”

  “Resources are never available, Mr. Gill”—Thakur waved dismissively—“we have to find them. Don’t you see what this summit will do for India’s prestige?”

  “I do, sir, but don’t you—? I mean … one must account for the fact that so many terrorist groups will strive to disrupt it. Palestine is the one cause that all the jihadis use to pull in money and recruits. They will never allow this.”

  “All that is fine, Gill, but we have to make it happen. Maybe things will be simpler if we can keep it secret and low-key.”

  “Sir, with the recent attack on Jerusalem, the whole world has its eyes on the Middle East. There is no way we can keep such a momentous event secret.”

  “Well, regardless, we have to make it happen.” Thakur’s tone was firm. “We have no choice; the decision has been made. It is now a matter of national pride.”

  “The security requirements will be a huge challenge, sir. What if the summit gets attacked? The stakes are so high for the jihadis; they will definitely try to strike.”

  “No, Gill. Nothing must be allowed to disrupt it,” Thakur retorted. “I want you to personally take charge of the security.”

  “But I also have the Commonwealth Games at the same time, sir,” Ravinder objected.

  “No, you don’t.” Thakur had then sprung the second, ugly surprise. “I have put Ashish Sharma in charge of the games.”

  DIG Ashish Sharma was Mohite’s peer; they both reported to Ravinder. Now to his dismay, Thakur was directly delegating work to officers under his command. Ravinder opened his mouth to protest once more, but stopped. Pointless; the man was the Home Minister, after all. Confrontation would serve no purpose; nor would it be a career-enhancing move.

  “I don’t see the problem, Gill.” Thakur continued, “The arrangements for the games are in place. Sharma just has to keep things going.”

  “Then why not put Mohite in charge of the peace summit, sir? That way I will be able to run oversight on both events.”

  “I thought about that, Gill. I trust Mohite totally, but I think the summit is
too important for any one man. Do you have any idea of the consequences if something happens to the delegates? India’s reputation would be shot to hell … not to mention the carnage that may be unleashed in Israel. No. I want you in charge. Of course, Mohite will assist you.”

  “Of course I will, sir. You know we will never allow anything to happen to the summit.” Mohite was quick to spot an opportunity, one where he would be able to take credit if things went well, yet not be responsible if there was a screwup. He turned to Ravinder. “Am I right, sir?”

  Ravinder caught his grimace in time, marveling at the man’s cheek.

  “True, sir,” Ravinder replied with a silent sigh. “How come we got to host the summit?”

  “Because the Israelis did not agree to any venue that was acceptable to the Palestinians,” Thakur was eager to explain. “And the Palestinians refused to agree to any of the Western countries. That did not leave many options. India was a logical choice, since we are on a good wicket with the Israelis, the Palestinians, and the Arab world.”

  “They met at Oslo the last time,” Ravinder mused.

  “Yes, but both have a problem with it this time,” Mohite jumped in again. “Apparently both sides feel that Oslo is jinxed. That is why when the PM asked Mr. Thakur if we could host it, I advised him to accept.”

  Ravinder resisted the impulse to give Mohite a solid kick. Instead, he gave a politic smile. “Wonderful. I am so glad you are going to help me secure the summit, Govind.”

  “But of course, sir.” Missing the sarcasm, Mohite gave another bright smile.

  “So we all agree that we must keep it a secret?” Thakur asked, failing to mention that he had already spoken about it to at least ten people in the three hours since the PM had informed him. In fact, if he had his way, he would have held a press conference and shouted it to the world. This could be his moment in the sun, and he was loath to keep it under wraps. “I figured Delhi would be ideal. With the Commonwealth Games taking place, we already have a flood of VIPs and athletes, and security is already functioning at peak level.”

  “That is what I explained to Mr. Thakur, sir,” Mohite rejoindered. “It will make our task so much easier.”

  Ravinder looked at both men, doubting even they believed that. On the other hand, for Thakur this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to showcase himself on an international platform. And for Mohite, a heaven-sent chance to latch on to the minister’s coattails and try to grab the limelight.

  Got to watch my back, Ravinder reminded himself again. Given half a chance, Mohite would deliver him to the wolves.

  “I know I can rely on you, Govind.” Thakur gave Mohite a cordial smile, then realizing that Ravinder was also present, added, “and you of course, Gill.” He wagged a finger in the air. “Now, remember, we simply cannot fail. If anything bad happens, it would be a shame for India and it would also put an end to all hopes of peace in the Middle East.”

  Ravinder was in a somber mood as he listened to the two prattle on. Obviously, neither had given any thought to the practicalities of securing such an event. The whole thing was fraught with danger.

  Ravinder’s memory spool ran out as their car halted in the South Block parking lot. He led the way toward the minister’s office, wondering about today, what new shocks awaited him.

  * * *

  Watching Mark move into action, Ruby smiled again. The efficiency with which he organized a car and driver made her feel good.

  She beheld a sturdy silver, almost-new Nissan van, with a solid air conditioner. The driver, whose name she couldn’t get, spoke more Sinhalese than English, but seemed pleasant and presentable. They threw their bags into the rear. Both were traveling light. Moments later, they were headed north.

  Ruby glanced at her watch. It was ticking fast. Reminding her that time was short. A pulse of urgency raced through her.

  For the nth time, she wished she had been given the heads-up about this summit sooner. And again she cursed Pasha, the Lashkar-e-Taiba commander who had told her about this summit. And also e-mailed her the gory video of Yusuf, her dead uncle.

  Its images had become a nightmare, returning every night. By now she’d become scared of switching off the lights and laying her head on the pillow.

  The murderous bastards had even chopped his hands off.

  Pinpricks of wetness pushed at her eyes. She kept them at bay, knowing she could not allow them to be seen by Mark. In their world, tears were weakness … and weakness was death.

  Shaking off the gory images of Yusuf’s dismembered body, Ruby mentally urged the driver to go faster. She needed to be in motion. Motion was important. It kept the nightmares away.

  They hit the first security checkpoint on the outskirts of Colombo. Fortunately, only a few cars were ahead. It took only seven minutes to get past it. A second one, a few miles out of town, took a tad longer.

  Then the road stretched out before them. Long. Narrow. Lonely.

  * * *

  Ravinder noted that Thakur seemed excited when they entered his office.

  Large and well appointed, it was tastefully decorated, in contrast with Thakur’s abrasive personality. Lemon-colored walls set off the Persian carpet in the center. To one side was a burnished teak table with a high back, deep-brown executive chair on one side and four matching leather guest chairs on the other. In the far corner, a trio of single-seater sofas was placed around a smoked-glass center table that held several coffee table books. Large paintings rode high on the walls on either side of the table. He could hear the soft hiss of air-conditioning. The aroma of room freshener reached out to Ravinder.

  Lavender. One of his favorites.

  “Ah, there you are, Gill.” In his mid-fifties, Thakur wore the trademark white kurta pajamas that found favor with most Indian politicians. A Nehruvian cream cotton jacket completed his attire. Thakur did not bother to get up. “Come, come. How are you two?” Without waiting for an answer, he launched off. “How are the preparations for the summit and games coming along?”

  “They are coming along just fine, sir,” Mohite butted in before Ravinder could reply. “We have taken over the top two floors of Ashoka Hotel, and our teams have started installing top-notch equipment to secure the summit. We have also started putting checkpoints and roadblocks around the hotel.”

  “That’s good.” Thakur rewarded him with a paternal smile.

  “We have also broken three terror cells and have information about two more sent in from Pak-Occupied Kashmir to attack the games. We hope to catch them before they get anywhere near Delhi.”

  “Hope to?” Thakur raised an eyebrow. “No hopes, Govind—just get them.”

  “We will, sir.” Mohite again.

  “Amazing.” Thakur tapped his table. “These damn terrorists never give up, do they?”

  “No, sir, they don’t,” Ravinder replied. “The ISI has given them carte blanche, sir. They will do everything possible to hurt us.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” Thakur’s smile slipped. The full implications of the threat now dawned on him.

  “But don’t worry about it, sir. We will not allow anything to happen,” Mohite jumped in, ever eager to keep the boss happy.

  “Excellent.” Thakur’s smile returned. “I know I can rely on you, Govind.”

  Ravinder held his peace, not wanting to rain on their parade and point out that it was impossible to stop every terror strike. Somewhere, somehow, someone would always manage to break through any security cordon … the law of averages made that a certainty.

  “Here.” Thakur pulled out two slim brown files and slid them across the table. “A list of the thirteen summit delegates, with their complete details.”

  Damn! Thirteen again! Ravinder frowned; his unlucky number seemed inextricably linked to this ruddy summit. I just hope it is not—

  The minister’s voice intruded. “Each delegate is accompanied by two personal security officers. Considering the special circumstances, we are permitting the PSOs to carry we
apons.”

  “Foreigners running around with guns in our capital?” Mohite looked up, surprised.

  “Yes, Govind. And … oh, that reminds me—to assist us, the Americans and the British both have sent across an agent each.”

  “Why? What do we need them for?” Mohite half rose, his agitation palpable. “We are more than capable of handling our own turf.”

  “Calm down, Govind.” Ravinder waved him down; although having foreign agents mucking around was the last thing he wanted to worry about. “We will need all the help we can get.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Orders from on high, Mohite.” Thakur glared, upset at being challenged by his crony. “They will be coming to your office later today, Gill. The Israelis are also sending an agent to brief us about the threats they anticipate. He should be here in a day or so.”

  “Don’t worry, sir,” Ravinder reassured him. “We will ensure things go smoothly. Anyone … and anything that helps us get the job done properly is more than welcome.”

  “Good attitude, Gill. Now for the most important thing: The PM will be coming on the first day of the summit. I got the call this morning; the PMO wants the security plan immediately.”

  “Today?”

  “Why? Any problems with that?”

  “None at all, sir.” Ravinder kept his chin up, knowing the rest of his day was going down the shitter; PM’s own security was paranoid and would question everything till the cows came home. Oh well! Maybe that will keep Mohite busy and get him up to speed.

  “Good, then send those plans to me as soon as possible, and I’ll forward them to PMO.”

  Minutes later, they left and headed back to Police HQ.

  “Let us use this time to firm up the details we have to send to PMO,” Mohite muttered as he hopped into Gill’s car again. “I will ask my car to lead. Too much bloody traffic. The siren will clear the way for us.” Poking his head out, he yelled instructions to his driver.

  They headed out with Mohite’s staff car leading; its flashing red light and madly whooping siren carving a corridor through the traffic. Ravinder detested the siren and would have liked to minimize the time he spent with Mohite, but recognized that now he had made useful suggestions.