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SALIM MUST DIE

Page 14

by Deva, Mukul


  ‘Then how does one stay out of sight?’

  ‘The best way to beat the hi-tech resources arrayed against you is to simply revert to the basics. The key is to hide in plain sight. Once you have custody of the weapon, get as close to the target as possible as soon as you can, and go to ground. Then, having done that, stay still. They won't be able to lock on to you as long as you stay still.’ The urgency in Cheema's tone stressed the point. ‘Any movement will invariably give you away, so move only to carry out the strike and when you do, move fast. Don't give the enemy time to react and seize the initiative.’

  ‘What should I do if they do manage to find me?’ Most of them had asked this question in some form or the other during the briefing.

  ‘Then you are as good as dead in any case.’

  Salim had prepared Cheema well for this question. Trust me Cheema, in such matters, harsh candour is always best appreciated and likely to get the best possible result.

  ‘No matter what happens, don't let them take you alive. Not only will you be subjected to the humiliation of being held like a caged animal, you can bet they will get the truth out of you and that may jeopardize the rest of the mission.’ Cheema saw most of them nodding confidently. ‘No!’ he cautioned sternly. ‘Don't even think about it. Even the best and bravest of you will not be able to stand up to the chemicals for long. These days it is not tough to get the truth out of anyone. Trust me,’ he urged fervently, ‘if your cover is blown your best bet is to head straight for the enemy and activate your weapon. Make sure you are in the biggest crowd and take as many of the kafirs with you as you can. Don't let your sacrifice go to waste.’

  The bald, unvarnished truth was met by a long pause, but none of them had faltered. Both terror-masters had watched the eyes of the future killers carefully as they briefed them.

  Eyes don't lie. They are windows to the soul, always watch them carefully, Cheema remembered Salim telling him. Now he thought admiringly, Salim has chosen his lashkar well. They are ready to die as easily as they are prepared to kill.

  THE TECHNICAL PART OF THE BRIEFING FOR TEAM BRAVO WAS very different from that given by Mai to Team Alpha. Cheema had also ensured that barring Liaquat Ali and Rahim Khan, who would be operating together, the other team members did not run into each other. He briefed Liaquat and Rahim first, then Yakub Khan, and finally Lars Borge. Each training session lasted much longer than the ones that Team Alpha had been through, but then the complexity of the weapon that Team Bravo would be using was far greater too.

  ‘You must remember that the timer has three settings. The first is for immediate activation, the second will cause detonation after a fifteen minute delay and the third after a thirty-minute delay. If you are activating the weapon on the target itself, then choose the second setting. However, if you're going to activate it and then carry it into the target area, you must select the third setting. Also, in this case you must ensure you are inside the target area within two or three minutes so that you have time to deploy the weapon in the best possible place and still have adequate time to get away safely.’

  ‘What about the first setting? The one for immediate activation….’

  ‘That's just in case they're on to you.’ There was a long silence. That's understandable, Cheema said to himself as he silently watched the duo absorb the input. Soldiers hate to die. They'd much rather kill.

  ‘Remember,’ Cheema spoke softly, but firmly. ‘None of us is afraid to be martyred, but it is always better if we can walk away safely and then return to strike yet another blow at the kafir at some other time and place.’

  In the end, Cheema was more than satisfied with the way his deadly disciples absorbed all the information about the weapon. So focused was each person on the task that lay ahead that not one of them even spared a thought for the catastrophe they were going to unleash, for the thousands who would die or be doomed to lead a crippled existence.

  SALIM AND CHEEMA WERE TOGETHER AGAIN WHEN THEY met each member of their lashkar for the last time. Once again, they met each of them individually and clarified all their doubts. At the end of this final briefing, each person was given his or her specific target. Stunned silence descended when they heard what their target was to be. Salim had anticipated this.

  ‘Yes,’ he announced grandiosely. ‘It is going to be the boldest and most spectacular strike ever… even 9/11 will pale into insignificance.’ Salim allowed the thought to linger since he knew that was what would sustain them over the coming days. ‘They will remember us forever.’

  ‘Make sure you spend enough time and survey the target thoroughly. You have enough time to do so without raising any suspicion,’ Cheema said. ‘And remember to keep a constant check on the mailbox of your meetyourmatch profile. It's crucial that everything takes place exactly to schedule. Only then will we achieve maximum impact.’

  ‘Also, remember to send in your arrival and departure confirmations as soon as possible,’ Salim added as he bid each of them farewell.

  OVER THE NEXT TWO DAYS, ONE BY ONE, THE TERROR merchants began to scatter. The time had come for the next phase of the strike to commence. The first one to leave the Maldives was Mai; the important part of his work would begin now. He was the only one who had the expertise to make the weapons and also the only one who had access to the lethal materials that would be used in the weapons.

  NONE OF THEM NOTICED THE FIT LOOKING MAN IN HIS thirties enter the suite occupied by Salim. Mai's flight for Beijing had already taken off from Colombo and most of the others were in various stages of checking out, or were on their way to Male Airport. Cheema had jumped at the opportunity graciously granted to him by Salim to take a tour of the neighbouring islands on a catamaran.

  Cheema took a deep breath as the wind caught the catamaran and sent it skimming away from the shores of the Blue Moon over the electric blue waters. There were several other cats surfing the waves. Perhaps that was why he did not notice the bright yellow catamaran with the name of the neighbouring island resort emblazoned on it. Nor did he notice the man who jumped off it and dragged the cat onto the beach. The man's muscular build, walk and general demeanour gave away his military background as clearly as a crew cut would have. Beaching the catamaran, the man strode confidently towards Salim's suite.

  ‘Salaam waleikum.’ A big smile wreathed Salim's face as he greeted his guest and gave him a warm, comradely hug. For a change, the smile seemed genuine. In fact, it was the first time in all these days that Salim had showed any trace of genuine emotion. ‘It is good to see you again.’

  ‘Waleikum salaam, janaab.’ The man was clearly deferential. ‘The honour is mine.’

  The two men spoke quietly for a while. Whatever Salim had to say to him did not take long. In fact, they spent the better part of their meeting talking about old times and going over the details of a bank account in Switzerland. Finally, Salim said, ‘I think it is time you left, my friend. Cheema should be back any time now. I don't want anyone to see you. And remember, there must be no further contact between us.’

  ‘Don't worry, sir. There will be no need for any.’ The man hesitated slightly. ‘Please do take care of my wife and children after….’ He broke off.

  ‘Do you trust me?’ Salim gave the man a deep, penetrating look.

  ‘Of course, sir,’ the man replied instantly. ‘With my life.’

  ‘Then rest assured that I will take good care of them. You have my word.’ The man nodded silently. ‘Just get them out of the country as soon as possible. Their travel documents and details of all the arrangements are in the packet I have given you. I will ensure the wire transfer to your bank is done before you leave the island today.’ Salim clasped the man's shoulder in a reassuring grip. ‘I want you to stay completely focused on the task; it is of the utmost importance. And please remember that timing is very crucial in this mission.’

  ‘Rest assured, janaab, I will not let you down.’ The man saluted as he left. ‘I will await your call.’

  ‘Kh
uda hafiz.’ Salim watched his trump card walk out and away from his suite. He knew this was the last time he was seeing him alive.

  If he succeeds in his task he will definitely die. If he doesn't, we will both be dead.

  THE DAY AFTER. ISLAMABAD

  THE SLEEK, UNMARKED BLACK CAR WAS WAITING OUTSIDE THE airport when the flight from Dubai landed. It took Salim and Cheema straight to the tiny but exclusive restaurant where General Ehsan Haque, the ISI Director, was waiting for them. The top floor of the restaurant had been kept vacant by the owner, an exISI agent provocateur who had been unlucky during the Afghan misadventure and lost a leg when he strayed into an unmarked minefield.

  Haque and Salim greeted each other with the warmth and bonhomie of old comrades. Cheema hung around on the fringes of the meeting, absorbing everything but saying little.

  Two hours later, Salim left for Murree while Cheema stayed on at the safe house in the suburbs that Haque had arranged for him. Over the next few days, a variety of people streamed in to meet him. The rest of the time, Cheema was busy on the phone. When he finally left Islamabad a week later to rejoin Salim at Murree, he had about him the unmistakable air of a man who had done his duty and done it well. The manpower, money, equipment and documentation required to execute the next part of the mission were all firmly in place.

  ‘Everything that we need is absolutely ready, sir. I just need to make one call to activate it.’

  ‘Excellent!’ Salim beamed proudly. ‘You've done a fine job.’

  Phase One was complete.

  Phase Two: The Weapons

  URUMQI SPECIAL WEAPONS FACILITY, CHINA

  CHEEMA WAS IN THE MIDST OF HIS HECTIC PARLEY AT Islamabad when Mai walked into his office. There was a noticeable spring in his step and despite the early hour, he looked fully charged.

  ‘You are bright and early today, sir,’ the security guard greeted him as he checked Mai into the secure facility, but there was no surprise in his voice since they were all quite used to the erratic and eccentric working habits of the scientists. In any case, the guard, like most of the facility staff, was quite fond of the usually cheerful Mai.

  Fobbing him off with the required polite noises, Mai headed to his office. Controlling his impatience with some difficulty, he first cleared the backlog of paperwork and emails that had accumulated in his absence. Then he moved to the tiny, secluded but well-equipped personal lab that he merited as the director of the facility.

  It took him a few hours to work out the precise material requirements and place a requisition for them. He made sure he added several more items to the list to camouflage its real purpose, just in case someone was keeping tabs on him.

  With a feeling of deep satisfaction, he returned to his office and went back to the grind of routine work. He knew it would take at least two days for the materials to reach him.

  THE REQUIRED MATERIALS REACHED MAI ON THE MORNING of the third day. Their arrival triggered a sharp wave of impatient energy in him. In the days that followed, Mai had to struggle with himself to stay away from his lab. Despite his excitement, he did not forget Salim's warning. ‘You must not say or do anything that will set off an alarm in anyone's head. Remember, this is the most critical phase of our operation; if you fail, we all fail.’

  ‘Don't worry,’ Mai had reassured him. ‘I will stick to my regular routine and ensure none of my work is pending.’

  Twelve days later, he was more than satisfied: he had finished making the tiny round glass vials, and redesigned the caps for the bottles of aftershave and eau de cologne, and the room-freshener spray cans. All the items required tremendous precision and taxed his skills to the fullest. Over the next two days, he carefully and repeatedly tested each one of them.

  ‘Zero tolerance!’ Mai told Fatima. ‘There is simply no room for even the minutest error. Even the tiniest leak will be fatal.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ Fatima sympathized. ‘When are you going to get hold of the….’ She hesitated.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ Mai cut in. ‘I have to do it tomorrow. We're running out of time now.’

  AS THE DIRECTOR OF THE BIOCHEM FACILITY, ONE OF MAI'S key responsibilities was to audit all controlled materials held at Urumqui every month and ensure it was all accounted for. This audit was critical since some of these materials were so lethal that even a few droplets were more than adequate to trigger off an epidemic of unimaginable proportions. The audit was supposed to be done without warning and not on any fixed or scheduled date, to ensure that no detectable (and thus breachable) pattern existed. So no eyebrows were raised when Mai began the audit early the next morning.

  The audit confirmed that none of the lethal germs, viruses and chemicals that the facility dabbled in was unaccounted for. No one even missed the two tiny vials of Variola Major virus and the five larger vials of VX Gas that Mai removed from the specimen bank during the audit. And this, again, was not surprising since Mai had replaced both with similar looking vials.

  It's not as though someone is going to open them and check the contents. Mai gave a wry smile as he surveyed the booty safely hidden in hermetically sealed containers in his personal mini-laboratory. Both items looked harmless and insignificant, but Mai knew just how lethal they were. He suppressed a shudder at the thought of what he had to do next.

  Let me begin with the Variola, so that even if I make a mistake I will at least live long enough to complete the mission.

  Stiffening his resolve, he donned his protective suit and reached for the glass vial containing the deadly virus.

  VARIOLA MAJOR IS THE MOST COMMON FORM OF SMALLPOX, a contagious and sometimes fatal disease. The pox part of the word smallpox is derived from the Latin word for spotted and refers to the small raised bumps that appear on the face and hands of an infected person. There is no specific cure or treatment for smallpox, and the only prevention is vaccination. There are basically two clinical forms of smallpox and Variola Major is the severe and more common form, which causes extensive rashes and a high fever.

  ‘The Variola virus emerged in human populations hundreds of years ago. It is unique to humans and in the twentieth century alone caused 300–500 million deaths worldwide,’ Mai had told Salim and Cheema when he first met them. ‘There are four types of Variola Major smallpox: Ordinary, which is the most frequent type and accounts for almost ninety per cent of the cases; Modified, the second type, which is also mild and occurs in previously vaccinated persons; and Flat and Haemorrhagic, both of which are rare and extremely severe. In general, Variola Major has an overall fatality rate of about thirty per cent. However, the Flat and Haemorrhagic forms are extremely virulent and have a mortality rate of close to ninety-six per cent.’

  ‘Really? But hasn't smallpox been eradicated?’

  ‘Of course it has,’ Mai replied. ‘After a long but successful vaccination campaign, it was eradicated globally, and no cases have been reported since the last one in Somalia in 1977. Today the Variola virus exists only in rare and heavily guarded laboratory stockpiles in just a handful of countries.’

  ‘That is why it is the perfect weapon.’ Salim had smiled softly. ‘No one will be prepared to handle it. There will be total panic and chaos. As for the death toll,’ Salim shrugged, ‘one cannot even imagine how many kafirs will die.’

  ‘That's right!’ Mai replied softly. ‘But it is not just the kafirs who will die. Once the virus spreads, it will kill almost anyone it comes in contact with.’

  ‘True.’ Salim met Mai's gaze levelly. ‘Sometimes sacrifices are necessary. We cannot win the jihad if we are going to be so squeamish.’

  THE VARIOLA MAJOR VIRUS REMOVED BY MAI FROM THE URUMQI specimen bank was the type that caused Hemorrhagic smallpox, the most lethal and infectious of the lot. The virus has an incubation period of seven to twelve days and its initial symptoms of fever, muscle ache and vomiting are quite similar to influenza and the common cold. The skin does not blister; instead, bleeding occurs under the skin, making it appear charred and black. It is the
bleeding and the loss of fluids and electrolytes that cause death.

  ‘The particular strain I propose to use was stolen from Soviet stockpiles in those tumultuous days following the disintegration of the USSR. It had been developed and produced in the Siberian town of Koltsovo in 1990 when the Soviets were looking to use genetically altered strains of smallpox as a biological weapon.’

  ‘If that's true, how come such weapons have not been used in any war so far?’ Cheema had asked Mai.

  ‘Of course they have been used,’ Salim cut in with an unpleasant laugh. ‘Do you think humans will ever leave any stone unturned to kill their enemies?’

  ‘He's right!’ Mai nodded vigorously. ‘Almost as soon as humans had figured out how to make arrows, they were dipping them in excreta to make them poisonous.’

  ‘In shit?’ Cheema couldn't contain his surprise.

  ‘Absolutely! In shit,’ Mai replied with a grimace, not overly enthused by Cheema's choice of words. ‘You have no idea how effective it was, especially in those days when there were no antibiotics.’

  Cheema gave an exaggerated shudder.

  ‘The Romans went a step further. They used to throw dead animals into wells to poison the enemy's water supply. In 184 BC, Hannibal used live snakes and in 1346 the Tartar, Khan Janibeg, had plague-infested dead bodies of his own men catapulted into Kaffa… in fact, this was also done by the Russians troops fighting the Swedes in the eighteenth century. The Spanish conquistador Pizarro gave clothing contaminated with the smallpox virus to South American natives just as Britain's Lord Jeffrey Amherst handed over blankets that had been used by smallpox patients to Native Americans during the French and Indian wars.’

  Mai saw the look of revulsion on the faces of the two men sitting opposite him.

  ‘Precisely! They are lethal beyond imagination. That's why the Biological Weapons Convention of 1972 prohibits their use. However, the primary reason that most nations hesitate to use them is simply because containing the effects of a biological agent is a nightmarish proposition… in terms of both time and space. After all, one would want to eventually occupy the ground after destroying the enemy, right?’

 

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