Weapon of Vengeance

by Mukul Deva

  “Not a problem, Dad. I will do that. Thanks.”

  The distaste of deceit and lies lay heavy with both when the call ended.

  Ruby wondered how much he knew. He has to know something, else why the surveillance? But if he had been able to confirm whatever Chance may have told him, he would not be allowing her to run free. Would he?

  Is he just concerned about me—like any other father would be?

  Ravinder wondered what she had been up to.

  Am I just tarring her with the same brush because of Rehana? Maybe she does not really know the reality of Rehana … and Yusuf.

  * * *

  Ravinder returned to his room and went to work. The next few hours passed as he coordinated between Ashish and Mohite, ensuring that things at both ends were proceeding smoothly.

  The spate of false alarms, sightings, unidentified bags, and of suspicious people was keeping the cops busy. For several months now, Delhi Police had been conducting awareness training for waiters, cabdrivers, private security guards, shopkeepers; all had been told to keep their eyes and ears open and report such things and it seemed a lot of them had taken the briefings seriously.

  Each call had to be investigated. But so far, none had resulted in anything meaningful. Nothing, however, could be ignored.

  Much as he tried not to think of it, he could not forget that this was the thirteenth day.

  Bad things happen on the thirteenth.

  * * *

  Ruby spent the rest of the day in her room. She was now waiting.

  “The wait is always a bitch.” Mark’s words to her in the Congo came back to her. She grinned and then remembered Mark was dead and gone. The grin evaporated.

  * * *

  The summit had made no real progress on day one, but the ice was broken. Both sides had at least acknowledged that the killing would end only if they talked. As the day progressed, hope brightened.

  * * *

  Ravinder’s tension escalated as the day wound down. Though he tried hard, he was unable to forget that today was the thirteenth. The hourly calls from the surveillance team that Ruby had not moved should have helped, but didn’t.

  Have I been so wrapped up with Ruby that I have missed some other more real threat?

  With every passing hour, new questions arrived to plague him. As darkness closed in, his anxiety deepened.

  * * *

  In Muridke, Pakistan, his eyes and ears riveted to the news channels, Pasha awaited word of his assassin’s strike. Anticipation turned to disappointment and then to fury as the curtain came down on the first day of the summit. He was unable to sit still any longer.

  DAY ELEVEN

  The new dawn brought with it an overcast sky. The first sign of that heavy fog that paralyzes most parts of North India during winters appeared.

  * * *

  Again Ravinder woke up early and got ready. Some primal, or cop, instinct was gnawing at him. Powered by it, he dialed his home phone, a direct line to his bedroom and study. Simran was the only one who answered it when he was not home. She picked up on the first ring. As though she had been waiting for it.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I am fine, love.”

  “I was worried. I wanted to call, but I did not want to disturb you. I know how busy you must be right now.”

  For a moment they shared the comfort of silence.

  “Simran, I wanted to check on Ruby. How is she?”

  “I think she is okay, but … other than her morning run, she has not left her room, not since … I even had to send all her meals up. Not that she ate much.”

  “I see. Is she at home?”

  “I think so. I have not heard her go down. You want me to check?”

  “Could you, please? But carefully. I don’t want her to know you are checking on her.”

  “Hang on, then.”

  He heard Simran put down the phone and walk to the door. Then a silence. He was starting to worry when he heard a crackling sound as she picked up.

  “She is there. I peeped in and she is still sleeping.”

  “Hmm. Okay.” Something was tugging at his mind. He was not sure what. “Right, then. I will call again when I can.”

  “And take very good care of yourself.”

  “I will.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “I will now.”

  “Don’t forget. You get headaches when you skip a meal.”

  “I won’t forget.”

  “Ravinder, if you want, I can check on Ruby again.”

  “No. Don’t fret about it. The surveillance car is at the gate. They’ll let me know if she steps out.”

  He sensed Simran wanted to say more. He did too, but somehow this did not seem the time. He forgot that there is never a wrong time to say nice things to someone we love.

  After putting down the phone, Ravinder went out to run a check on the security setup. And he did forget to eat. And got a headache.

  * * *

  Ruby counted to thirty after the door closed, before she threw off the bedcover and left her bed.

  She had heard someone walking up to her door, the footsteps muted, as though the person was trying not to be heard.

  Someone up to no good.

  She’d pulled the bedcover over her, right up to her neck, making sure she left her face uncovered.

  She glimpsed the door crack open silently and Simran peep in. Ruby pretended sleep. Then Simran’s face vanished.

  Ruby now ghost-footed it to the door and listened. She felt only silence outside. Sliding open the door, she peered out. Six quick steps and she was at the door of Ravinder’s bedroom. The murmur of Simran’s voice came through as she placed her ear against it.

  “Ravinder, if you want, I can check on Ruby again,” she heard Simran offer. Then she heard the phone being put down. Ruby returned silently to her bedroom, filled with anger.

  So, they are checking on me. They suspect. A moment later. But maybe Daddy is just worried. Some more thought. Bullshit! Then he would have called me, not Simran. So be it.

  She sent a text to Ontong and Boucher. It was short. Delivery confirmation arrived seconds later; there was no sound, since the phone was on vibrate. Ruby deleted all the messages and started to dress.

  Within minutes, she was in her usual baggy, black jeans and an equally loose, full-sleeved, blue cotton shirt. Her hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, an almost exact replica of what she had worn in the Congo. But the bulletproof vest was missing. As were her weapons. She missed them, but knew that even if she had them with her, she would not have taken them. Not today. Not where she was going. Today everything would be improvised, on the fly. She had a plan, not so foolproof as she would have liked, but the best she could evolve, given the constraints.

  Deep in thought, Ruby missed the sound, aware of it only when the door began to open. Jasmine’s head peeped in. Ruby started, no time to make it back to her bed.

  “Ah! You are awake.” Jasmine smiled. “Good. I wanted you to wish me luck. Today is—” Then she noticed Ruby’s outfit. “Wow! You are dressed so differently. You look so … so cool.… Where are you off to so early?”

  It seemed to be an innocent question. Is it? Her instincts told her it was, but … could she take a chance? What difference does it make? I cannot … will not harm her.

  “Nothing much.” Ruby held her gaze. “Thought I’d step out for some exercise.”

  “Hmm!” Jasmine’s mouth puckered up. “You look so different … so deadly … like some kind of spy.” She laughed. “Anyway, I must be off. Am late for college. Have to rush. We are winding up early today.” She pattered on. “You are sure about not coming for the games? I still have all three passes … just in case you have changed your mind.”

  “I am sure, Jasmine. Thanks anyway.” Aware of the ops clock ticking away, Ruby was aching for Jasmine to leave. “And all the best for your moot court. I am sure you will blow them away.”

  “Thanks a lot. Have
fun.” Then Jasmine was gone.

  It took a moment for Ruby’s breathing to return to normal.

  Now time to eat and move. In the distance, she heard the gates swing open and Jasmine accelerate out the drive. Silence returned to the Gill house. Then she heard the dull clang of a bucket. Perhaps in the kitchen. Moments later, the distant hum of a lawn mover began.

  Ruby turned to her ops checklist.

  Eat and move.

  But she felt no hunger. Generally she wolfed down a healthy breakfast, no matter what lay ahead. Now she forced herself to eat. She had to be at the top of her faculties. Finishing the cold chicken sandwich Simran had sent up last night, she washed it down with a glass of orange juice. By the time she finished, it was time. She checked her watch to reconfirm. Ontong and Boucher still had some time before they started out.

  Grabbing the black tote bag she had packed, she silently went down to the security—or surveillance?—car at the gate. She had to time this part perfectly. No other way could she succeed.

  No one heard her descend or exit the door. Then she approached the surveillance car boldly.

  “I need to go to the hotel.” She told the surprised driver of the surveillance car. “Father needs some stuff.” She held out the tote bag.

  Ruby saw the driver exchange glances with the cop beside him, obviously the surveillance team commander. He thought it over, and then nodded.

  Ruby could almost hear his thoughts. He had been told to keep an eye on her. What harm can there be if she is with us? The boss’s daughter, after all. They’d been told to keep her secure. With them, she would be secure.

  “Fine, miss.” He held the rear door open for her. “Please get in.” Minutes later, they were off.

  The sound of the bath shower hid the sound of the surveillance car driving off; Simran had no idea Ruby had left.

  * * *

  Mohite too had risen early. Ravinder ran into him when he emerged from his room. Again, he was dressed up in his Sunday best.

  “You going down to meet the minister?” Ravinder asked, though he already knew.

  “Yes, sir. He is on his way.”

  Ravinder checked his watch, twenty past eight. The delegates would be finishing their breakfasts and soon going to the conference hall.

  “Fine. Have a look at the lobby security, Govind,” Ravinder instructed, “and both the gates and roadblocks. I’m going up for a round of the eighth floor.”

  He was heading for the elevator when he realized he had forgotten his digital radio in the room. Turning, he went back. He’d kept it next to the bank of monitors in the corner. The monitors were still on; he’d forgotten to switch them off. Ravinder surveyed them for a moment as he slipped the radio onto his belt.

  On one of the monitors, he saw Mohite emerge from the elevator and head across the lobby. The men on the other monitors looked alert. Nothing unusual. Satisfied, Ravinder switched them off and went to the eighth floor.

  So, on the hotel porch camera, he failed to see Mohite walking out of the hotel gates, heading toward the security barrier down the road, and the surveillance car Ravinder had deployed at his house, drive up to him.

  * * *

  Despite her best effort to time her arrival, Ruby had arrived a bit too early. The problem was that she could say only so much to the driver of the surveillance car she was in. And asking him to halt outside the hotel might have alerted them that she was up to something.

  Seeing Mohite walk out of the hotel and head toward the security barrier down the road, she spotted an opportunity and improvised. Telling the driver to slow down beside him, she powered down the car window.

  Mohite turned and spotted her.

  “Good morning, Miss Ruby. How are you?” Mohite was all smiles. “That was such a brave thing you did the other night.… We are all so proud of you.”

  “Thank you.” She gave a bright smile. “It all happened so fast that…” She shrugged.

  “So, how come you are here?”

  Getting out, she pointed at the tote bag on her shoulder. “I just brought some stuff along for Dad. He has not been home since yesterday, so I thought—”

  “Ah. The dutiful daughter.” Mohite gave a big smile, the one he toted when he needed to impress someone. The boss’s daughter was definitely fair game; she could put in a word in her father’s ear whenever she wanted. After all the fuckups—just bad luck as far as he was concerned—Mohite was eager for a helping hand. “Come, Miss Ruby, let me take you up to him.”

  Ruby turned to the surveillance team commander. “Could you please wait while I go up and meet my father?”

  Mohite chipped in helpfully, pointing at a vacant slot beside the gate. “You can park there.”

  “I should be back soon,” Ruby added with a smile and then went with Mohite, hoping that the surveillance team would now have no qualms or call Ravinder.

  Together, Mohite and Ruby began to walk past the hotel gates. With the men from the PM’s security now gone, the detail seemed thinner. Ruby did a rapid head count. Ten armed men. Entrenched behind sandbag fortifications. Enough to stop even a well-organized assault. At least long enough until reinforcements clocked in.

  The guard commander saluted as Mohite walked past; he, however, was diligent. “Excuse me, madam,” he called out to Ruby, “that bag needs to go through the scanner.” He pointed at the tote on her shoulder.

  “But of course.” Ruby placed it on the X-ray machine that had been installed at all major hotels since the November 26 Mumbai attack. She watched it disappear inside the machine. No worries. It contained nothing except some snacks. It was simply her excuse to get in. Even if Ravinder had been called and questioned her, Ruby had an answer ready; she needed to see him since she was planning to return to London that evening.

  * * *

  The surveillance team leader had been explicitly ordered to call Ravinder, but lulled by Ruby and also Mohite’s presence, he did not do so. Perhaps it was also the fact that while tasking him, Ravinder had ordered him to keep Ruby safe; inside the hotel, he knew she’d be safe. The car pulled into the slot Mohite had indicated, and the surveillance team settled down to wait.

  * * *

  Mohite and Ruby had passed the X-ray machine when the whooping of a cop siren became audible. The sound grew in intensity. Ruby knew what it signified, Thakur arriving. Just as she had planned.

  Thank God he’s on time.

  As Mohite sprang forward to receive him, Ruby checked her watch: ten minutes short of nine.

  Perfect. Ruby permitted herself a small smile. By time we reach the eighth floor, the delegates will be settling down to their talks.

  Thakur’s oily face broke into his politician’s smile the minute he got out of his car and set eyes on Ruby. “Ah! So we meet again, young lady. Ruby? Right?” Returning his smile, she nodded. “How have you been? What you did the other night was wonderful. So brave! The whole police force is talking about it. Good, good … So? What brings you here today?… Really? Off already? Why?… Come, come … let’s get you to your father.…”

  Still talking, the party—now comprising Thakur, his two PSOs, Mohite, and Ruby—headed for the elevators. Seeing the minister and their DIG, the elevator guard did not question Ruby’s presence.

  The mistakes were accumulating.

  The assassin had now broken past the barrier, into the secure zone. Hunting season was now open.

  Ruby strode forward. She could feel her body gird itself.

  Just a few minutes more …

  * * *

  Someone else had also been watching for Thakur’s arrival.

  Dressed in faded jeans and a full-sleeved, blue sweatshirt, the burly, ruddy-faced, nearly bald, and profusely sweating Ontong was at the same spot in the park where Ruby had taken position the previous morning. The stress was bothering him more than anything else; something did not feel right.

  Ontong saw the minister’s cavalcade pull up at the lobby. He immediately called the only number stored in
his mobile; it was a new phone with an unused SIM card, purchased specifically for this operation. He’d drop it in some convenient gutter on his way to the airport.

  * * *

  Separated by the hotel between them, parked one klick away from the roadblock outside the hotel, the one farther away from Ontong, Boucher took the call.

  Taller, whiplash thin, long-limbed, deeply tanned with close-cropped hair and hooded eyes that were never still. Like Ontong, Boucher too was in jeans and a dark green sweatshirt. He too was using a new phone and SIM card.

  “Five minutes,” Ontong said tautly. “We are on.”

  “Roger. I’m rolling in five.” Boucher dropped the phone on the seat. He was tense. But far more confident than Ontong. Perhaps because Boucher did not think or worry too much.

  Both men collected their thoughts. Both rapidly replayed Ruby’s instructions in their heads. Both knew they had a short yet decisive role in whatever she had planned. Both hoped it would be painless.

  * * *

  Adrenaline was pumping in Ontong’s body as he left the park and made his way back to the Maruti van with the rocket launcher inside. He had already checked it and both rockets. Both were ready to go.

  Ontong kept his pace slow and easy. He knew he still had a few moments. Boucher was going into action first.

  * * *

  Boucher was moving by the time Ontong finished rechecking his weapon. He drove at a steady pace. He did not have to go far. The shooting position he’d selected was just ahead.

  The 84mm Carl Gustav produced by Saab had an effective range of approximately 1,100 meters against troops in the open and could also take on an armored target 700 meters away. Unlike other such weapons, it used a rifled barrel to spin stabilize its projectile. Both Boucher and Ontong were comfortable with it, though, like most Aussies, they preferred to call it the Charlie Gusto.

  A rocket launcher team normally comprised two men and could get off four to five rockets in a minute. With just one man firing and reloading, the rate of fire dropped to less than half, since the user had to bring down the launcher, crack open the rear, slide in a new rocket, close the breech, and hoist it back onto his shoulder.

  Boucher was aware of this, but it did not bother him. He needed only to fire twice before he dropped the weapon and melted away. With surprise on his side, it would be a cakewalk. Ontong, coming into action minutes later, might not have that working for him, but he would be able to exploit the shock of the opening assault.