Mousebite

by Ganesh Chaudhari

  “I won’t fail. Neither our cause nor my mother. Khuda Hafiz” Mushtaq replied in the same hushed tone.

  “Hold on till my call. Don’thing till I call.” Ishtiyaq reminded him by pointing to the cellphone that Mushtaq had in his shirt pocket. Mushtaq nodded.

  Then he turned around to take the stairs to the platform where the train was waiting. It was to depart in 30 minutes. He went inside a deserted toilet at the beginning of the platform & emerged exactly five minutes later. He was now dressed in a railway maintenance personnel’s uniform. He had a toolbox in his hand. Ishtiyaq & Ijaz watched him go casually towards the driver’s cabin from their vantage point on the footbridge. Once he vanished inside, Ishtiyaq counted down from 60 to 0. Then he left with Ijaz towards the opposite end of the footbridge.

  ***

  “The first one has left Mumbai Central few minutes ago Sir. We can’t reach the driver on the radio or a cell phone.” The Railway technician had been dragged to Hormaz’s makeshift office from Churchgate. He was in his early thirties, dressed in shirt & pants with the Railway blazer to go along. His shoes shone as bright as his well oiled hair. He had a habit of blinking his eyes intermittently which made it hard for Hormaz to decide if he was scared or surprised. Hormaz was seated on his broad chair as immobile as a statue. He had decided not to involve the Railway administration immediately as the train had left & nothing untoward had been reported.

  The technician had explained to Hormaz that each ladies special train that runs in Mumbai city was almost identical. Only female passengers were allowed on board, it was a fast train implying that it had minimum stops. There was a female police constable in every compartment of the train. That meant close to 15 cops on the train. These trains ran from Churchgate, Mumbai Central & Virar around the working hours.

  “Should we stop the train Sir? I am sure if we cut the power to the line, the train would not move. The passengers can be safely alighted once the train is immobile.” Khan had joined them earlier.

  “No ,no. we cannot take the risk of cutting the power. We are not sure if they have boarded the train, how many of them are there. Cutting the power could hasten whatever they have planned. We need specifics. What we can do though is make it stop near a major rail station by means of a traffic signal.” Hormaz explained.

  “There is one more thing.” The technician blinked again.

  “The doors to the compartments are operated from the driver cabin for the Mumbai Central train. This measure was designed as a safety precaution against stone pelting during the travel.” The technician finished. Hormaz’s heart sank. This was looking like the train that had been chosen. If they had the driver cabin under control, serious damage was possible.

  “Tell me about how electrical power is fed to the train.” He asked.

  “There is a main battery bank in the driver’s cabin which is fed direct electricity from the power lines. It is connected in parallel to miniature battery banks in each of the compartment.” The technician explained.

  “So if someone was to shorten the main battery bank while the train is travelling..” Hormaz let the words hang.

  “There are circuit breakers, Sir. They deploy automatically to bring the train to a gradual halt.” The technician looked insulted by Hormaz’s suggestion but was happy to describe the backup for this eventuality.

  “So if we cut the power, the train won’t move? What if there was a large capacitor available?” Hormaz asked.

  “The engine is an electric one Sir. The train won’t move forward if the main power is killed. The capacitor may hold on as a giant battery for some time to keep the train on the move. But it should discharge quickly.” The technician said confidently.

  “Ok team. Let’s have the train stopped near the next station. Make sure that the stopping spot is in reach but away from the station. Have the NSG started? What station is next?” Hormaz asked.

  “That would be Bandra terminus. In almost 35 minutes” The technician answered.

  At that moment, the monitor on Hormaz’s desk came alive. An NIA man rushed through the door.

  “The NSG team is airborne Sir & this is the footage from the CCTV camera on Mumbai Central platform.”

  They watched in silence as the footage showed a train arriving at the platform for boarding. The NIA man scrubbed the video player further by a few minutes & zoomed on the driver’s cabin. Then he let it play again. Hormaz felt a cold sensation crawl up his spine as he saw a man approaching it after coming out of a toilet. The man was wearing a maintenance personnel uniform. He went inside the cabin. The driver of the train followed sometime later. But the maintenance man never came out of the cabin. The NIA man scrubbed the player again to freeze frame on the maintenance man. He had a toolbox in his right hand.

  “Who is that?” Khan asked. Hormaz knew the answer to that.

  “That is Mushtaq.” The NIA man answered.

  “He could take that train over. Have that toilet examined for explosives. I want to know if they have explosives on the train!” Hormaz shouted. He got up from his chair wincing. Khan didn’t know the reason for the pain. But he followed Hormaz down the stairs of the Air India building. The SX4 was waiting for them.

  “Take me to the Bandra railway station ASAP” Hormaz commanded.

  ***

  Kumar was confidant now. His hostage lay unconscious on the floor. It was a cell in a mental asylum just off Sardar Patel road in Andheri. This had been a carefully chosen facility. When the NIA started in Mumbai, they hardly had places to forcefully interrogate people. The existing agencies would not share their premises with the NIA, so availing facilities for torture was out of question.

  The solution had been simple. Better find a place where everybody expects men to be brought in with force, where everybody expects men to shout in pain or agony while being treated by specialists behind closed doors. So after locating this asylum, all that was left was to intimidate the doctor who ran it. That was easy once a basic taxation check was run on him. A simple issue in his Income Tax returns had been blown into a catastrophe. When the doctor had agreed to do whatever it took to fix that, he had been ordered to ready a non-descript patient room every time Kumar wanted.

  Kumar had brought the scrap dealer here two hours ago. The man had lasted under thirty minutes once Kumar started. One black eye due to the blows, a broken canine tooth, a pulped pinky finger because of the hammer & a burned cheek because of a hot clothing iron had set him talking. He had placed a Railway maintenance worker’s uniform in a toolbox at an abandoned toilet on the Mumbai Central railway station’s platform no.5. The capacitor had also been placed in the same box yesterday. He had then called a landline number in Bhiwandi and left a message. Yes, he was Ishtiyaq’s classmate. Ishtiyaq had been in constant touch with him for the past year. A month back Ishtiyaq had asked him to make a capacitor. Curious about the need for one, he had pestered Ishtiyaq into telling him that it was for shorting a milk van carrying cows. And obviously, Ishtiyaq had paid him well for making the capacitor. He didn’t know anything else. Kumar had made him repeat the story as answer to different questions twice. Then the scrap dealer had passed out.

  This was followed by two more developments that were very opportune for Kumar. First, he got another call from his man working on decrypting the videos. Another video had been decoded. Kumar saw the video & knew where Ishtiyaq would be, while the entire security establishment of Mumbai would be covering the planned terror incident. Secondly, he got a call from Hormaz asking him where he was. He saw no point in hiding the locality. Hormaz asked him to get to the Bandra terminus as quickly as possible.

  Ishtiyaq’a probable location according to the video was exactly between Andheri & Bandra. Kumar could always tell Hormaz that he was on his way to Bandra. He decided to go after Ishtiyaq. Because if one or both the accomplices of Ishtiyaq were to get caught or killed on the train, that credit would go to Anees.

  His following Ishtiyaq could be a godsend combination of profe
ssional redemption & personal glory. He could come up with a story to back his out of procedure actions. And he had the videos to prove that. Obviously, a man who could plot a scheme to kill people by hundreds had all the qualifications to be killed in an encounter with the NIA. Sometimes, such men just couldn’t be reasoned with. Sometimes, killing them was the only option to stop them from damaging other lives. And when the damage could be worst to Kumar’s personal life, reasoning with Ishtiyaq was out of question.

  Kumar left the scrap dealer in the same room. He got to his car & took the Sardar Patel road towards Bandra. He didn’t notice the car that had been following him since earlier that night.

  ***

  The glowing screen of Mushtaq’s mobile phone was the only light in that cramped box. But he was right at home. There were two full height stacks of industrial batteries around him. He was sweating profusely but around the batteries, his mind was at peace. He could smell them, the humming in the box soothed him & the place felt like a garage on the move. He had been following the Map display on the screen. It showed his real time position on the map of Mumbai. The train had started from Mumbai Central sometime back. The driver had not taken a second look at the plywood cover that Mushtaq had just pulled over when he went in the battery bank. After the VileParle station, Mushtaq had to make his move.

  He thought about his mother again. But the same train of thoughts led to his agonies in Ratnapur. The place where he had been born, where he had grown to be a man, had treated him like a pariah. The people who had known him, the people who he had worked for, had plotted his failure. Why? Just because he had wanted to start on his own? Because he was really good at what he did? There was no way the same people would accept him back. And yes, if he had to go, it was better that somebody paid for it.

  He had asked Ishtiyaq once more. What about the Muslim women who would be on the train? If our battle is against the kafirs, why do our own have to die? Ishtiyaq had smiled. The cost of peace is often the chaos & the blood that come before it, he said. When we set out to bleed the enemy where it hurts him the most, we also have to bear the expense of lives to get within striking distance. Ishtiyaq was clear about it. But why women? There could be girls on the train. Is it not against the will & directives of the almighty to harm women? Ishtiyaq answered that too. Nothing shatters the illusion of safety like killing of the weak who are supposed to be protected by the strong. It had never been done before but the time was ripe now. And if you do it right, you will get a chance to repent directly in front of the almighty, he said. We are not just sacrificing the women, the main Qurbani is you, he said.

  The train moved again & so did Mushtaq. He reached into the toolbox that he had been carrying. He pulled out a badminton shuttlecock. He peeled off its sponge bottom to reveal five feathers with pointed ends. He held them in his right hand with the pointed ends away from him. He pushed the plywood cover of the battery bank slowly. He could see the driver concentrating hard as he drove the train. He stood up from his squatting position in the box without making any noise. He took three measured steps to stand exactly behind the driver. Before the driver could turn back to look at him, he reached for the steering control with his left hand. His right hand came down hard on the neck of the driver. The pointed ends laced with a sedative pricked the driver’s neck. There were five red beads on his neck as he twitched in shock. Mushtaq steadied the steering as the driver’s grip shifted. First in his attempt to push Mushtaq away & later to balance himself as the sedative kicked in instantly. He got down to his knees & held onto Mushtaq’s leg for balance. But then he rolled his eyes over & hit the floor with a thud. The train continued moving smoothly even after the change of driver.

  Mushtaq enjoyed driving under the circumstances.

  But it was not for long. He saw the bridge over the bay. The mobile showed that as the programmed destination. He slowed down the train so that the entire train rested on the bridge. Then he stopped it completely. He engaged the compartment door lock switch immediately. The compartments had their own batteries for fans & lights so the stop would not be uncomfortable for a while. The next part was easy. He reached for the toolbox again. Taking the capacitor out, he expertly pulled the mains connections running from the overhead cables to the battery bank. Then he bypassed the circuit breakers that stopped excess current from going to the electric engine & the compartments’ batteries. Then he set up one battery with reversed polarities for the final circuit. A large current through that battery would blast it & send the excess current through other batteries in the cabin too. They were not sure about the compartments but the engine & a connected compartment would surely topple due to the blast in the battery bank. And once the engine went over into the sea, the other compartments would follow, just like they followed a fully functional engine on the tracks. With locked doors, death was a certainty for every passenger.

  As a final measure, he routed the current back to the batteries through the capacitor. It began charging immediately. He turned on the radio channel that he had blanked out before getting inside. The chaos had started. The radio was full of chatter probably aimed at the driver. He turned the volume down a notch but left it on. Then he began waiting for the call from Ishtiyaq.

  34

  Bridge

  “What do you mean it has stopped?” Hormaz shouted into the phone.

  They were still 5 minutes off the Bandra station. The driver had taken advantage of the vacant roads to get them real close, real quick. But that consolation seemed useless. The train had stopped on a bridge over the bay without any signal. On the contrary, the tracks had been strategically cleared for the train to reach the decided point. But it had stopped before that. Why the bridge?

  “How far is this bridge from the Bandra station?” Hormaz demanded.

  “Around two kilometers.” The technician answered. Hormaz cut off the call in frustration.

  The car was already running parallel to tracks.

  “Do you know the bridge over the bay?” Hormaz asked the driver. He nodded.

  “Get us as close as possible to that bridge.” The driver floored the accelerator. Khan didn’t speak. It seemed that the plan had been well thought of. The bridge came in view slowly. The sun had just risen & its orange contrasted richly with the gray of the bay. As it was an old railway only bridge, there were no railings around it. The drop to the bay would be around 15 meters. The car stopped right by the tracks. Hormaz got down from the car in a flash. He dialed a number.

  “Change the position of the rendezvous to my current location. Have every available person around this bridge. How far are the NSG?” He issued orders briskly.

  “Good. Have the Major report to me ASAP. And where is the chopper that started from Aurangabad?” His eyes never left the train as he spoke.

  “Find a landing spot for that chopper as close as possible to this bridge.” He finished.

  They waited restlessly. The train seemed to have become a part of the bridge. Khan was not sure how much time had passed since they reached here. He kept on wondering about the passengers in the train. When do they start sensing that something is wrong? What happens when they panic? His forehead was damp with sweat. Hormaz looked frozen. He stood very still as he faced the train. The train was over 200 meters from them. They could not see the driver and it would have been the same from the driver’s position unless he had a binocular. Khan & Hormaz never realized the other man was there till he spoke.

  “Good Morning Sir.” He said to Hormaz.

  “Your assessment?” Hormaz asked him. The man was dressed in camouflage trousers, sheen high leather boots, a T-shirt that clung to his body. His tall frame had a V shaped torso. He also had a green RayBans on his eyes. Definitely from armed forces but with the NSG now, Khan concluded. The availability of such men had improved after 26/11 for law enforcement. They were at the scene in 30 minutes today.

  “The choice of place is very strategic. We can’t move in without being seen. If there is more than
one of them, they will see us. Even a second of awareness of our presence can be enough for them to cause excessive damage.” The man said.

  “How?” Hormaz shot back.

  “Our explosives man thinks that the strategy would be to blow the engine into the water. That can be achieved either with explosives or by blowing the main battery bank in the driver’s cabin. But they didn’t find any trace of explosives in the toilet on the Mumbai Central platform. Given the background of the suspect & the talk of a capacitor, blowing batteries is the most likely possibility. Once the engine goes off the tracks, it will pull the other wagons with it.” His face remained expressionless even as he described the enemy’s advantageous position & probable thinking pattern.

  “So what do you think is the best plan of action?” Hormaz probed further.

  “We would have to round them from the air & from the sea. We would also require resources to approach the bridge from both sides. One man will be required to move under the train over the tracks. The best option would be to sever the engine from the rest of the wagons & the wagons from each other with whatever mean at hand. I am not sure how soon we could get divers for rescue if a wagon goes over.” He outlined a plan & his concerns.

  “Ok. Stay ready. Let me get you those divers too. And send me the negotiator.” Hormaz said after a pause. Hormaz could not do the negotiating himself. There were other things to control. Too many things to coordinate.

  The man’s face showed emotion for the first time. There was an element of surprise as he frowned.

  “We don’t have one, Sir.” He replied.

  “What? The radio line to the train is functional again. And you are telling me that you don’t have a negotiator!” Hormaz snapped. The man shrugged.

  “We are a team with a special skill, Sir. We swing into action to finish the job. What comes before or after it is best kept out of the team. We will be ready when you are, Sir.” The man said as he turned back to leave. 2 Police vehicles came rushing towards Hormaz’s parked car. Hormaz’s gaze was fixed on Khan as the vehicles approached. When Khan turned to face Hormaz after becoming aware of it, he knew what Hormaz had in mind. And that scared the hell out of him.