by Deva, Mukul
A long silence descended. Ankita watched his face with mounting anxiety.
‘Shit! Five of them were here. We missed them by a few hours.’
‘Damn!’ She beat back the surge of disappointment with an effort. ‘But at least we now know who could have taken the VX and Variola from the dead chink.’
‘My God! The biochems! We have to stop them.’ Suddenly galvanized into action, Khare raced for the phone and began to talk urgently into it. ‘Look, there is no time to waste. Some of them would have already landed. You have to alert those countries.’
Minutes later, the suits at MEA went into action again. Phone wires burnt all over the globe. Germany. Britain. West Indies. Canada. America.
VX Gas! Smallpox virus! Fucking hell!
Security levels ratcheted up as the ripples spread. Suddenly, five people who had been trudging through life barely even casting a shadow, shot onto the screens of hundreds of computers all over the world. Who? Why? What? And, most importantly, where?
TORONTO
THE PHONE WIRES HAD JUST BEGUN TO BURN WHEN AIR INDIA flight AI 187 from New Delhi touched down at Toronto airport. With his quiet, dignified demeanour, Reis had no problems getting himself and his lethal cargo through airport security. Exiting the airport, he hailed the first cab he could find to Hotel Crowne Plaza Toronto. The time had come for him to go to ground.
The final killer with his deadly cargo had sailed through the security barrier. And he had got through with scarcely a moment to spare. His cab had just about cleared the airport when the security alert hit the airport computers.
‘What the hell do you mean he got through?’
‘We got the message only after he had cleared immigration. But we know where he lives. In fact, a team is already on its way and the local cops have been informed. Don't worry, sir, we'll find him.’
‘We'd better. The bastard is carrying VX Gas and, perhaps, the virus Variola Major.’
‘VX Gas… Vari… what? What's that?’
So the man at the other end told him, ruining his sleep for many nights.
MURREE
‘REIS IS ALSO THROUGH.’ SALIM LEANED BACK IN HIS LARGE black swivel chair as he looked at the message glowing on the computer screen before him. ‘He just checked in from Toronto.’
‘Allah be praised!’ Cheema raised his arms in supplication. ‘Isn't it strange the way everything is falling into place? Surely this is a sign that Allah has blessed this operation. After all, there has not been even a single mishap so far, sir.’
Salim did not respond. He seemed lost in thought. Cheema was about to speak again when Salim replied, ‘Yes, you're right. Allah is definitely pleased with us.’ The old man must be tired, Cheema thought as he saw Salim fighting back a yawn.
‘Sir, why don't we get some rest… while we can.’
‘You're right. Go ahead and take a nap. I'll just follow you.’
Salim turned away and began to fiddle with some papers as Cheema got up and left the room. Salim waited for a long time after Cheema had gone. When he was sure that Cheema had turned in for the night, he picked up the satellite phone from his study table and dialled a number from memory. His call was answered almost immediately.
‘We are ready,’ Salim said softly. ‘It is time.’ There was a long silence in the room as Salim listened to the voice at the other end. ‘Excellent, my friend! Then go ahead with it. Remember, you are the guardian of our faith and our country. We are all very proud of you… as is your family.’ There was another long silence as Salim listened. ‘Of course I will. You can bank on that. Khuda hafiz.’
With that, Salim put down the phone and turned to his computer again. It did not take him long to work out the time zones and differences. He had already done it a dozen times earlier, but he couldn't resist the urge to double-check.
It will be truly spectacular! Way beyond anything that General Haque would have thought possible. Salim chuckled silently to himself as he waited for the home page of his matchmaking profile to open. Then he typed in the last message that he would be sending to his lashkar.
For the first time since the beginning of the mission, Salim acted out of character and broke cover. Perhaps the excitement of the impending strikes was getting to him. Or maybe he was proud of the surprise he had just initiated and wanted his teams to know about it. Maybe he thought the news would motivate his lashkar. No matter what the motive, the fact remains that Salim broke his own security rules with this solitary, unnecessary act.
The message he sent out was cryptic enough. But it would be a dead giveaway for anybody monitoring the site, for it had no relevance at all to matchmaking.
The traitor's fall marks the beginning. On the morrow the world will shudder and you shall be remembered forever. Khuda hafiz.
Salim knew that if the message was intercepted, it could be dangerous. But it doesn't really matter any more… the website has almost outlived its utility. In any case, not too long from now, none of the lashkar will be alive to access the site. What difference will it make then?
With a wry grin, Salim logged out of the meetyourmatch website and went to bed.
The Unravelling
NEW DELHI
ANKITA WAS STILL LOGGED ONTO MAI'S PROFILE ON meetyourmatch.com when she saw the ‘unread mail’ icon begin to flash. She clicked the new message open.
‘Bloody hell!’ she exclaimed as she saw who had sent the message. ‘It's from smurad… he is online.’
‘Quick! Get a lock on him.’
Ankita's heart was thudding with excitement as she hunched forward and began the trace to hunt down the elusive man on the net. A few moments later, she slammed the table with her hand in frustration. ‘Damn! Missed him.’
‘He must have logged out as soon as he sent the message,’ Manoj commiserated. ‘Anyway, what's the message?’
‘Of course! The message!’ Returning to Mai's profile, she clicked open the message again. Khare saw the expression on her face change and went closer to her. One look at the message, and his mind went into high alert mode. Neither knew precisely what it meant, but the contents left no doubt that it was important.
The traitor's fall marks the beginning. On the morrow the world will shudder and you shall be remembered forever. Khuda hafiz.
‘Crap! It's begun,’ they both whispered at almost the same time, staring at the screen as though willing it to reveal its secrets. The tableau remained frozen for a very brief moment in time.
‘True, but what?’ Khare said anxiously.
‘I don't know, but whatever it is will start the day after the traitor falls.’
‘Who is the traitor?’
‘Even more importantly, what the hell is going to happen? Where? And how?’
Ankita said decisively, ‘I think we've taken this as far as we can…. We need to bring the others up to speed right away.’
‘Just one second,’ Khare interrupted. ‘See, of all the people communicating on the site, one is dead. The second is smurad… whoever that is. The remaining five left Delhi just hours before Mai died, so we can safely assume he handed over the VX Gas and Variola virus to them when they met him.’ Khare separated the relevant passport pages from the bunch in his hands and held up the rest. ‘What about these four?’
‘Three, not four,’ Ankita cut in. ‘The fourth is from Delhi itself, so we have no way of knowing whether he met Mai Hu or not.’
‘Yes, okay… three… what about them?’ The question seemed to hang in the air. ‘Who are they? Are they part of this strike or are they….’
‘Of course they are. See.…’ Ankita's hands flew over the keyboard, then she tapped her screen. ‘Here is a message that Mai Hu wrote to one of this lot.’ Glowing on the screen was the brief innocuous mail that Mai had sent to Lars when he had seen him exit Salim's suite at the Maldives resort.
‘True!’ Khare nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ‘If they're also part of this operation, then…. ’
‘Either there is
something we have missed or….’ Ankita whispered back equally softly.
‘Shit!’ A sinking feeling clawed at Khare's innards.
‘Whichever way you look at it, we have to work on the premise that these four are also part of the strike team. Either the weapons are being delivered to them by mules or there is something else afoot that we have not hit upon so far. Either way, we can't take a chance. We will have to track them down and take them in.’
‘Damn!’ This time, too, it was Khare who picked up the phone.
Minutes later, Denmark moved into high alert. America was already on the move, looking for Erik Segan. The names of Liaquat Ali and Rahim Khan were added on to the wish list. The alert for Yakub Khan hit the streets of Delhi within minutes.
Khare's next call was to Anbu. ‘Let's go,’ he hailed Ankita as he put down the phone. ‘The boss wants us in the ATTF Ops Room. He's called in Mr Rao and the others too.’
Picking up their laptops, they headed out to the waiting car.
They were not the only ones moving with a rapidly increasing sense of urgency. Across the globe, the intelligence agencies of a dozen countries were being suddenly and rudely jolted awake.
All at once, the names and faces of Salim's terror merchants began to light up dozens of computer screens as anti-terrorist cells and task forces came alive. With every passing minute, a formidable array of high technology began to scan the air and ground waves, seeking them out. Even now, no one knew who was carrying what weapon or what the specific target was, but one thing was for sure: the key lay with these men and women; ergo, find them.
The orders went out to a veritable army of security forces.
Find them. Now!
The crux of the message was simple: Subject is believed to be armed and very dangerous. Report sighting immediately and approach with extreme caution.
NEW YORK
THE PANIC WAS STILL GATHERING MOMENTUM WHEN THE A&M truck carrying the baggage of the diplomat returning from Pakistan moved out from the cargo terminal of JFK and began the approximately six hour long run to the suburb in Washington where the luggage had to be delivered. Neither of the A&M men in the truck saw the dark blue Chevy suburban which was trailing them. As far as they were concerned, they were on a routine drop and had no reason to be watching out for a tail.
Two hours into the run, the truck pulled into the parking lot of Bob's Diner off the New Jersey Turnpike. There was a fair amount of activity in the diner's parking lot and the A&M crew had no qualms about leaving the truck as they went in to grab a quick bite. In any case, the truck's cab was clearly visible from inside the diner so they were not worried about its security. Unfortunately, the rear of the truck's container was not visible and that was what interested the two men who got down from the blue suburban. Both men were dressed in blue-grey overalls, the kind worn by all A&M crew members. There was nothing even slightly out of place about them as they sprang the lock of the container.
Liaquat Ali kept an eye on the entrance of the diner as Rahim Khan rapidly looked through the luggage till he came across the two suitcases. Both were easily identifiable, with their prominent brightly coloured stickers.
By the time the A&M crew returned to their truck, Rahim and Liaquat were over twenty miles away. Both suitcases were stored safely in the rear of the suburban. The fast moving car soon chewed up the distance to Washington where the two soldiers checked into the Hamilton Inns & Suites hotel on the Jefferson Davis Highway.
A little later, Liaquat Ali logged in and confirmed their arrival to Salim.
NEW DELHI
ANKITA GAZED WITH SIGHTLESS EYES INTO THE FAR DISTANCE as the car sped through the early morning haze. A sudden sense of despondency seized her. Are we on the right track? Will we be able to find them in time?
‘Don't fret about it, Ankita.’ As usual, her teammate read her mind. ‘We did our best. What we've achieved is a miracle, considering the little time we had.’ There was a long pause. ‘Look at the brighter side – of the ten we have homed in on, one is dead so he can't do any harm, and we have already confirmed that eight of them are no longer on Indian soil, so whatever shit they're up to, it won't happen here.’
‘There is still one man left. He is somewhere out there,’ Ankita replied. ‘Yakub… Yakub Khan. I wonder where he is right now. Where is he headed? What's his target?’
‘Don't worry, we'll find the bastard. After all, the ATTF has huge domestic resources available to it. They'll get him.’
‘Will they get him before he….’ Her voice faltered. ‘I have a feeling something really bad is about to happen very soon.’
AJMER
YAKUB SHOOK HIS WIFE AWAKE GENTLY BUT FIRMLY. ‘I'M SORRY,’ he whispered when she woke up, ‘but there was a call from the office. Something urgent has come up and I need to get back.’
‘The kids will be so disappointed… they're going to give you hell.’ Amreen made a face, gesturing to the two children still asleep on the smaller bed beside theirs. ‘You know how much they have been looking forward to this holiday. Is there no way you can manage without going back?’
‘No!’ Yakub looked away guiltily. ‘But I'll tell you what….’ He paused, as though he'd just thought of something. ‘I'll just zip into Delhi, finish the work in a few hours and then we can continue the holiday in some place closer to Delhi. In fact, why don't we stop at Neemrana?’ Yakub made it sound as though he'd thought up the idea on the spur of the moment. Neemrana was barely 122 kilometres from Delhi. If I leave early I can reach Nehru Place in Delhi in about three hours, carry out my part of the mission and be back in time for a late lunch. ‘Next morning, I'll quickly drive down to Delhi, finish my work and return by late afternoon while you three relax at the hotel. Then we can spend a couple of days there.’ It's going to be a lot longer than that. Once the nuke goes off in Nehru Place, there is no way in hell that I'm going to return to Delhi with my family… not for a long, long time.
‘That sounds good to me,’ Amreen replied, pacified. ‘I'm sure the kids won't have a problem with it either. After all, whether it is Mount Abu or Neemrana, the two of them just want to spend time with you. They hardly get to see you when we are in Delhi.’ Yakub smiled fondly at the sleeping children. It is for you, and hundreds of others like you, that I must do what I'm going to do. Only then can we throw off the kafir yoke and be free.
An hour later, all four of them were in the Tata Safari, speeding down the highway towards Neemrana. Five-year-old Yasmeen was busy fiddling with the car radio, flipping channels much to the annoyance of her eight-year-old brother Hameed.
‘Can you please tell her to stop doing that, ammi, so that we can listen to any one channel peacefully?’
‘Don't be so cranky, Hameed. She'll settle down soon enough, then you can listen to what you want.’
‘How come she always gets what she wants?’ Hameed grumbled. ‘Then can I play games on abba's mobile?’ he asked.
‘No, you cannot,’ Yakub replied before Amreen could. ‘I forgot to charge it yesterday so the battery is very low. I may need it for an urgent business call. In any case, you know I don't like you messing with my phone. Why don't you play with your mother's phone?’
‘But her phone doesn't have Snakes on it. That's the only game I like.’
‘Tough luck, I'm not giving you my phone.’ Yakub had been warned by Cheema to keep his phone switched off.
Hameed finally settled down after a predictable bout of whining. Not long after, silence returned to the car as both kids finally dozed off, lulled by the motion of the SUV hurtling down the highway, on its way up to the beautiful Neemrana Fort Palace, India's oldest heritage resort.
ATTF OPS ROOM, NEW DELHI
THE TATA SAFARI HAD JUST CLEARED MOUNT ABU AND HIT the highway when Ankita and Khare walked into the ATTF Ops Room. Anbu and Sami were already there, conversing urgently with Rao. Chauhan, the ATTF chief, and Rawat, the Senior Liaison Officer from NEMA, were present too. Ankita hooked up her laptop to the giant s
creen that occupied one wall of the room. She quickly gave everyone the background and then moved on to specific details.
‘The late Dr Mai Hu visited the Maldives this March and stayed there for a week. During this time the following people were also present at the resort where he stayed.’ She flashed a list on the screen. ‘Karl Gunther from Berlin, Lars Borge from Copenhagen, Ben Ashton from London, Liaquat Ali and Rahim Khan from New York, Erik Segan from New Orleans, Kismat and Sahiba Khan, two sisters from Barbados, Yakub Khan from Delhi, and Abrahim Reis from Toronto. All these people, including Mai Hu, stayed at suites that had been booked by a Dubai based company called Desert Apparels, which is owned by a person listed in the records as S. Murad. They are all constantly in touch with a profile titled smurad234 on the meetyourmatch. com website, which obviously appears to be the same S. Murad. From what we have seen so far, this website seems to be the primary communication channel of this group that is led by the man who calls himself S. Murad.’
‘That seems to be….’ Chauhan started to speak when Anbu held up his hand.
‘Please let her finish, Mr Chauhan.’
‘We also found two phone numbers jotted down in Mai Hu's diary. They were on the page opposite to the one where we found some notes and the username and password of Hu's profile on meetyourmatch.com. Hence, it is safe to assume that all these were noted down at the same time or are otherwise linked in some way.’ Ankita flashed a scanned copy of the pages on the screen and paused briefly to allow her audience to absorb the data.
‘The notes themselves seem to be in some form of shorthand that Hu had devised for himself and we will certainly need more time to make sense of it; however, both the phone numbers belong to Thuraya satellite phones that had been purchased a few years ago as a set of four by the same Dubai company, Desert Apparels.’ She paused again, this time for effect.
