Sniper's Eye (7even Series Book 1)

by Mainak Dhar

  Disoriented and having almost drowned to death, I might have got some of it wrong – my instructors might not have given me full marks, but it was quite enough to get the job done. The zip ties snapped. My hands were free.

  And I swear, Munaf squealed when he saw me stand up and face him.

  When facing a mob, always kill the guy who looks like the leader first – usually the biggest, nastiest-looking, loudest specimen. May demoralise the others, or at least render them confused long enough for you to get away. That was what theory said, and while, to be honest, Munaf's leadership effectiveness was highly questionable, I killed him first anyway, just because of all the pain he had already caused me. And because he was such an all-round asshole that I wanted to make him pay.

  I stepped forward, ignoring the pain in my thigh as I put my body weight on one foot, crouched, pivoted slightly and brought my right elbow up hard against his solar plexus, driving forward with all my weight. He exhaled loudly, an audible 'ooffff' that could be heard above the chaos in the room. As he leaned forward from the impact of the blow, I stood, grabbed the back of his head with my left hand and brought my right elbow up against his throat.

  Once, twice, thrice. It was overkill. I think I smashed his trachea the second time, and he slipped to the ground, dead.

  The other four men had gone to work on Sinha with fists and knives. I feared I was too late to save him. One man saw me and rushed at me, the heat of the moment perhaps not making him register what I had just done to Munaf. That rushing me, while a touching show of bravado, wasn't the smart, tactical play when they had me outnumbered and I had no weapons. If all four had come at me, I would have been dead. But they were not trained soldiers. I was one and had no qualms about fighting as dirty as the dirtiest street fighter. That made me bad news for the guy coming at me.

  I broke his knife arm, took the weapon from him and cut his throat. By now, I had the attention of the others. They stopped hacking at the bloodied Sinha and began to converge on me.

  Situational awareness was the fancy word guys with stars on their shoulders used. In my case, it meant keeping an eye on where the firepower was. While killing Munaf and his underling, I had begun to work my way towards the wall, and, to reverse the old saying, there was nothing like bringing a gun to a knife fight. I threw the knife at them with no real hope of hitting anyone, but causing them to pause a second or two. Long enough for me to pick up one of the AK-47s.

  There's always that look that flits across the hunter's eyes when he realises that he is now the hunted. It was the same look I had seen when I had killed those jihadi kids in the raid that had ended my career. I saw it now in the eyes of the three men facing me. One idiot took a couple of steps forward, placing his knife on the floor and raising his hands. I smashed the butt of the AK into his face. He went down spitting teeth and blood. I then slammed it down onto his head. He became still, either dead or at least knocked out. The other two were now looking at each other and at me. If they had any brains, they would have realised that I wasn't going to shoot. I had no idea how many other buddies of theirs were out there and could come rushing in at the sound of gunshots. More pragmatically, I had no idea if the bloody gun was even loaded. But they didn't know all that, so I waved the gun at them in a vaguely threatening way, a way in which I thought goons like this saw guns being waved around in the movies, which was probably where they got most of their firearms training.

  One of them blubbered, his voice faint, 'Don't kill us. Munaf told us we'd get some easy money by holding a police informer. The most we've done before is stealing mobile phones. Please, we aren't criminals.'

  Both of them dropped their knives. I motioned the talker to come closer. Without getting into the semantics of what defined a criminal or what sort of punishment would be deemed appropriate for someone like him, I simplified matters by smashing him across the head with the rifle butt as well. As he fell, the last guy looked at me in an accusing way, as if I had cheated in some way.

  I took the time to look at my gun more closely, walked casually towards him and grinned, 'What the fuck did you think I was going to do? Stand around outnumbered while waving around a bloody empty gun?'

  His eyes widened as I smashed his face in with the rifle butt. I was many things, but a cold-blooded murderer was not one of them. Munaf and his heroic underling were dead, but the three others were still alive, though I suspected the hospital bills they'd run up would be above their paygrade. I looked around and found a bunch of zip ties like the one they had used on me. I tied their hands and legs, and taped their mouths with some masking tape which was also lying on the table. On second thoughts, I taped their ears and eyes shut as well and pulled them into the cell where Sinha and I had been kept. The guy who had talked to me was groaning. I tapped him sharply across the head.

  'Gandhiji's three monkeys. Speak no evil, hear no evil, see no evil. In your case, add a fourth one – do no evil. Let the cops find you and decide what crimes you need to pay for. Thank your lucky stars that you didn’t piss me off as much as that fat fuck lying dead out there, otherwise I might have killed you as well.'

  What now?

  My first instinct was to get as far away as I could before Karzai got back. But I changed my mind. Leaving Karzai free would mean I would always be looking over my shoulder, wondering if I was in his sights. I hunted through the pockets of the thugs and grabbed a couple of cellphones. I also found mine in a drawer along with my wallet. I did find bullets for the rifles, but couldn't exactly walk around outside with an assault rifle, could I? My plan was to call Phadke and tell him where I was. Google Maps on one of the phones told me exactly where that was – somewhere in Mahim, set apart from the main road. The address was labelled a madrassa, though it had clearly not been used for educational purposes for some time. I would simply call Phadke, wait for the cops to get over in force and they could get Karzai. Of course, if he happened to get back before then, I was now armed and would take him out myself. Part of me wanted that to happen. When your blood's up and you've been beaten and tied up for a day, you end up thinking more of revenge than you'd normally.

  Poor Sinha was lying still, covered in blood, and for all the sins he had committed and all the ways in which he had broken not just the law but the faith and trust putting on an army uniform brought, he had in his last moments done something that would do his brothers in arms proud. He had gone out like a Gurkha officer should. I wasn’t sure if he was dead, but he sure wasn’t moving.

  Before I could check on him, the radio set crackled to life and threw my plans out of sync. I put the headset on to listen to the man I presumed was Karzai's handler. His voice came over, though a bit garbled by the radio transmission. He was speaking Urdu, though the accent told me he was not a native speaker. That put me on guard. I had assumed all along that Karzai’s handlers were based in Pakistan.

  'Seven Six Two, are you there? Repeat, are you there?'

  For a few seconds, I said nothing, not sure of how to respond. If I said anything, he would know something had gone wrong, but saying nothing was equally suspicious if he expected Karzai to be back.

  'Seven Six Two, are you there? Is everything okay? We agreed for me to call at this time.'

  Shit!

  Karzai could be back anytime if he was expected to be back already. I grabbed the rifle, looking to see if there was anybody at the door. The voice on the radio got more agitated. The man was speaking to himself or to someone else with him, assuming Karzai had not come back and was clearly puzzled as to who had picked up the call. I took a chance, assuming that whoever Karzai’s handler was, he may not have had much exposure to the goons helping Karzai.

  ‘Bhai is not back yet.’

  The voice paused for a second, before answering, 'I thought I had made it clear that nobody other than him should answer. Get off the line and ask him to call me when he gets back.'

  Then the voice did something which made me freeze. Something which made me realise nothing was as
it had seemed. A sound I had heard several times over the last few days.

  A minute later, the door opened and Karzai stepped in. He recoiled as he saw the carnage in the room and reached into his belt. But I stepped out from behind him, the rifle pointed at his head.

  'Keep your hands clear.'

  I reached in, took the pistol he had tucked in his belt and secured it in my own belt. I pushed him with the rifle butt towards the chair. As he sat, he put down the backpack he had been carrying and I pulled it towards me. Setting the rifle aside, I trained the pistol on him with one hand while I used the other to rummage inside the backpack.

  A fake passport, air tickets to Kathmandu and cash. A lot of cash. Several fat bundles of hundred-dollar bills.

  'Going somewhere?'

  Karzai had recovered from his initial shock and took another look around the room, shaking his head. His grin was back. 'I underestimated you, Major.'

  'Don't be too hard on yourself. You chose really bad help. I killed the stupidest, that fat fuck Munaf, and the bravest, that idiot lying there. The others I’ve left alive. They're locked up behind that door.'

  'What about Sinha?'

  'He saved my life before they killed him.'

  Karzai shook his head sadly. 'What a mess.'

  'Indeed. A mess.'

  He looked up at me, resignation in his eyes. 'I suppose you've called your people? Cops or commandos will be coming to get me. You'll be a big hero. Maybe erase some of the shame of the past?'

  'No, Karzai. I haven't called anyone.'

  He looked confused at first and then nodded, ‘So, you want to kill me? Is that it? Not the worst person whose hands I could die at. Shame I couldn't avenge my brother. Do it. Get it over with.'

  I lowered the pistol, and he glanced at me in surprise.

  'I am not going to kill you yet. But that's because killing you won't necessarily keep me alive.'

  Then I told him about his handler calling and how I was almost certain that it was the same the IB officer who had talked me into this mission and got me captured. ‘I have no idea what the full picture is, but if Thapa is involved, I will not be safe if I just walk out of here. I need to get to the bottom of this. You’ve been talking about Project Lotus. I think it is very different from what your handler has had you believe.’

  I saw him rear back in his chair, as if about to launch himself at me. I held the pistol up, pointing it at his head.

  ‘Major, you have no idea what you are taking about. Kill me if you want, but don’t insult my intelligence. I know what this bloody Lotus was. I have seen its aftermath with my eyes, collected the bodies from under the wreckage of homes with my bare hands.’

  ‘Karzai, Sinha told me what Lotus was, his involvement in it. It had nothing to do with drone strikes. It was a drug smuggling ring. Think about it, why would he lie?’

  My argument did nothing to convince Karzai. He looked at me, defiance in his eyes. ‘How convenient, Major. The only evidence you have is something a dead man supposedly said.’

  I had no other evidence to offer. My mind was racing, thinking. Could I coerce Karzai into calling his handlers to learn more about what was going on? I sensed some movement in a corner of the room and turned towards it.

  It gave Karzai the opportunity he needed. His left arm snaked out, knocking the pistol from my hand, sending it flying across the room. We both stood up, facing each other. His legs were spaced out, his knees slightly bent, his hands loose at his side. Someone had taught our sniper some moves all right, and I was sure he could put up a fight. But he had been trained to kill from a distance. I had made my living killing my enemies up close and personal.

  I smiled, as I rolled my neck and got ready. I would have preferred if Karzai had listened. If I got time to understand what I was mixed up in, but if he wanted a fight, so be it.

  He came at me, his body weaving to the left, his eyes never leaving mine. Good posture, good balance, bad idea to telegraph his move with his right shoulder bunching up, signalling where the attack would come from. I blocked the blow with my left elbow, at the same time moving my right leg back and away from me, moving myself away from his line of attack. I pivoted slightly on my right leg and kicked out with my left, catching him in the midriff. Karzai staggered back, clutching at his abdomen.

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Karzai. If Thapa set us both up, we are both dead men. Don’t you get that? Do you really think a serving IB officer orchestrating all this would leave an obvious loose end like you alive?’

  He came at me again, this time doing better with a left hook that almost got through before I deflected it with my right arm and launched into him with my strikes. He did well to block two blows, but the third caught him on the jaw and sent him reeling. He paused, looking at me. I saw no crazed jihadi in his eyes, but a keen intelligence which was weighing his chances. He reached the same conclusion I had – he could not take me in unarmed combat.

  I saw him glance towards the pistol lying a few feet away. He went for the pistol, and I went for him. We grappled for a second and then both fell towards the wall where I hit something lying on the ground. As both Karzai and I stumbled and fell, we both froze, our fight forgotten for the moment.

  Sinha was trying to sit up and was saying something. ‘Lotus! Lotus!’

  I saw the pistol next to me and grabbed it. Karzai shook his head, accepting that his chance at freedom was lost.

  I kept the gun pointed at Karzai and held Sinha’s outstretched hand. ‘Sir, lie still. We’ll try and get some help.’

  As Sinha opened his mouth to say something, he coughed, and a huge amount of blood came spewing out. Not a good sign. His lungs or some arteries had been cut. I doubted he had a lot of time left. He scrabbled at my arm and pulled me closer. ‘Lotus!’

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Karzai was curious enough to lean forward so he could listen.

  ‘Sir, what about Lotus?’

  He coughed again and more blood came out. I tried to pull away, to see if I could get some help, but Sinha held on to me with surprising strength. ‘Don’t let that bastard get away with it. Don’t let Lotus get away with it.’

  I was about to say something, but Karzai held Sinha and shook him. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Sinha looked at him and his voice was trailing off, his grip on me weakening, but he continued speaking. ‘He played you as well. He screwed us all. He used me in Afghanistan for his drug ring. Now he’s used you to clean up his mess. Bastard!’

  He was about to say something more when another violent spasm hit him, making him cough more blood and he slumped to the ground. Dead.

  Karzai looked at me. I could see the conflicting emotions in his eyes. He had believed Lotus to be something else. Now he had heard Sinha back up what I had told him. He was about to say something, but stopped himself, as if debating.

  When he spoke, it was a bare whisper. 'I was supposed to kill Sinha before you got here. He would never have got a chance to talk to you if things had gone as planned. I let him live a day because he seemed to have lost his mind. I thought I'd let the boys dispose him off today after I left. I didn't want the blood of a crazy, helpless old man on my hands.'

  Our eyes locked. I could see that he was beginning to wonder if I was right.

  'I don't know what the whole game is and why Thapa would do something like this, but he probably set me up when you told him you would stop your missions unless he would deliver me to you. He fucked up the first time and then tricked me into what I thought was a mission to trap you. I'm supposed to be dead. If I walk out alive, will Thapa let me live, taking the chance that I may have learned something here?' I reasoned with him.

  'Where does that leave me?'

  'Don't you get it? Do you think Thapa will let you walk out alive either? He was asking if you were back, Karzai. The moment he gets confirmation, he'll hit this place. You'll die, I'll be dead anyways, a regrettable casualty. He'll walk away the hero, with no loose ends left.'


  'I should have been back. The bloody auto broke down. What do you recommend, Major?'

  As I looked into his eyes, I could see that Karzai was many things. He was no doubt a very dangerous man and given a chance would probably kill me without second thought, but his eyes showed that he was at least open to the possibility that what I was saying was true. I needed him to work with me for the time being. It was a start.

  'Call him. Tell him you've reached and killed me. Watch what happens.'

  'If your theory is wrong, and it's not Thapa, I'm a dead man.'

  'And if my theory is correct, then I've just saved your life.'

  He looked at me. I could see the fury in his eyes.

  'I do not want any favours from the man who killed my brother.'

  I had no time for this bullshit so I laid it out straight. 'I get your obligation to avenge your brother, but let's be clear. He wasn't a credit to your family. I realise he was a second cousin and not your brother. I've read the files. I know the facts. He was an addict, living in your shadow. He must have begged to come along, to finally amount to something. And he fucked up here too, didn’t he? You pride yourself on head shots – one single 7.62 mm shell to the head, right? The one at R-City didn’t work out that way. You had to shoot twice. Was that because Abdul distracted you? The autopsy said he had cocaine in his body, ingested just before he died. Did you know that? Were you really happy to have him here or did he force himself upon you?'

  I could see conflicting emotions on his face as he tried to come to grips with everything that I was saying.

  'Look, Karzai. I could shoot you now and end it. But I have to know if Thapa is playing all of us. You could help me do that. If he is, I will make him pay. The fucker tried to hurt the one person I care about most. I can't live in peace knowing he could come after us again. You're an enemy, but do you know the one difference between your jihadi friends and us in the Army? We don't treat our enemies as subhumans. We bury their fallen with honour. We respect their courage even as we kill them. If you can trust me, make the call and let's see what happens.'