I checked my squirrel suit. It was holding fine. With few adjustments my speed and direction were aligned with the flight path of the jet. It got rapidly closer as I dived towards it, trying to intersect at the right moment. Jet barely brushed past me and I pressed my arms and legs together to get a speed boost. The plane was now at the same level as me but getting higher. I carefully allowed more air through the suit till I could see the cargo door. I was gaining on the door and it rapidly filled bigger and bigger part of my vision. But it was still shut. I only had another five seconds. I closed my eyes and only hoped all my dominoes had fallen into place.
At 10: 12 AM, Nayyer arose from his seat. He passed through the toilet area and checked again to make sure that none of the commandos were following him. As soundlessly as he could, he opened the door and entered the cargo bay of the jet. The layout was exactly as the kidnapper had described. The bay was empty, and on the farthest side of the cargo-hold he found the lever with a red knob. With sweating hands, he pulled it exactly on the second, just as instructed by the kidnapper.
The jet was coming closer... another three seconds. Open, dammit! I braced myself for the impact; there was no way I could make it in now. Just then, in the nick of time... a slit in the door appeared and I rocketed inside the plane. I was in! Landing was hard though, and I crashed into a panel with a loud thud. When I managed to get up, my head was spinning from what perhaps was the craziest mid-air manoeuvre in the history of skydiving.
“Where is my son?” Nayyer hesitatingly approached me, as I tried to get my footing.
“Don’t worry. He is safe.” I slipped out from the suit. “I set a timed message for your wife. She should be getting his location…” I checked my watch, “juuust about now.” Nayyer opened his mouth to protest but his phone demanded his attention. I gestured him to pick-up. He looked at me questioningly and took out his phone. As he talked to his wife, his relaxed.
“She told me that the police are on their way to get my son,” he said with an audible sigh. “Who are you. Why are you doing this? You do know that you can’t escape after this.”
I pulled the lever back and the cargo-bay door started closing. “I don’t want to escape Mr. Nayyer.” I took his phone and broke it. “Now please step aside if you don’t want to get caught in the cross-fire.”
One of the commandos, alarmed by the noise my entrance had made, was making his way over to the cargo area. Under usual circumstances, I didn’t stand a chance against him. He was a trained killing machine armed to the teeth and I was an unarmed novice. But these weren’t ‘usual circumstances’ for I had the ultimate advantage – the power of prescience. I knew how and when he’d enter. As soon as he opened the door, I landed a swift kick on his chin. And before he could gain back his senses, his gun was in my hands.
“WAIT, stay where you are, or I’ll shoot you,” I tried screaming louder than my previous runs hoping for a different result. “Please.”
Despite my pleas and bound by his sense of duty he lunged at me without caring for his own life. I fired a single shot and he dropped dead in the passageway. I had killed the man. Again. Nayyer shrieked as spurts of blood gushed out from the bullet hole.
There will be three more dead bodies on this plane if I don’t figure out a better way. I WILL find a better way, I promised myself.
“Wha... What did you do?” Nayyer cried.
“Stop asking stupid questions,” I said. “And, if you don’t want to join him in the afterlife, I suggest you do as I say. Your poor son has just recovered from a harrowing experience. Do you want him to be raised fatherless as well? Do you?”
Nayyer utterly dejected face answered on his behalf. He had absolutely no other choice but to cooperate.
“It’s time to say hi to our beloved Chief Minister.”
Holding a gun to Nayyer’s head, I walked behind him and nudged him towards the main cabin. The radio-absence of the commando sent earlier had the others alarmed. But as long as Nayyer was my human shield, the remaining three commandos wouldn’t fire indiscriminately in my direction. Unfortunately for them, I knew their exact locations. The Chief Minister hid behind a small recess in the wall while two of the remaining three commandos covered him. Jogi Ahluwalia, the stewardess and the third commando hid underneath the bar. I couldn’t see any of them, but then, I didn’t need to.
I placed my gun on Nayyer’s shoulder just enough to have the muzzle peer out. Carefully adjusting the angle of the gun to account for the height of the commandos, I aimed at the metallic frame of the painting hanging on the opposite wall.
Click.
Adjust.
Click.
Two shots were fired at the frame. Two bullets ricocheting from the painting and hitting the commandos right between the eyes. Two bodies fell out from their niches and the carpet turned red.
I entered into the cabin area, gun pointing at Nayyer’s. “Come out everyone!” I shouted, “And hands above your heads.”
The Chief Minster, Jogi Ahluwalia, and the stewardess slowly appeared, shaking with fear.
“I said Everyone.” I searched my memory for the name of the remaining commando, still hiding under the bar. I remember seeing his nameplate in run # 109 when he had managed to capture and interrogate me. “And that includes you too, Commando Tej Singh.”
No response came from him.
“I know what you are thinking, Tej Singh. But you don’t have a clear shot. Before you can fire from that MP5, I’ll kill everyone else. C’mon out now.”
I didn’t want to kill him. I hoped he wouldn’t force me to. Finally, to my relief, he rose with his hands in the air, unlike my previous runs where he ended up dead. I took a deep breath… I had managed to avoid one kill. I would’ve to figure out a way to avoid all others too.
“Now do as I say. First, Tej Singh toss all of your weapons towards me, including that Glock pistol concealed under your boot.”
Astonished, he slipped his weapons towards me.
“Good. Now, you three—Nayyer, Jogi and Tej Singh—you will go inside the cockpit of the plane.”
“W... What about me?” said the Chief Minister, sweating like a running tap.
Always thinking only about themselves. Damn politicians!
“You sir, deserve VIP treatment, like always. You’ll remain here with me, along with her,” I pointed my gun at the stewardess. “Tell the pilots that they need to chart a new course.”
“Wh... Where are you taking us?” asked Jogi.
“We’re going to Kandhar, Afganistan,” I declared stressing every word and summoning all the menace I could in my voice. “Remember, if any of you or the pilots attempt to come out of the cockpit, you will have the rather unpleasant task of delivering a bullet-ridden body of our honourable Chief Minister to Delhi. NOW MOVE.”
When all of them had moved inside the cockpit, I picked up one of the whiskey glasses the Chief Minister and Jogi Ahluwalia had been enjoying. “You lead a comfortable life, Mr. Chief Minister,” I said, taking a sip. “The next few hours will be a little uncomfortable for you. But I am sure you’ll cooperate. Will you not, Mister Chief Minister?”
I sat on a chair and motioned him to take the seat opposite mine.
“And you,” I ordered the stewardess. “Would you be kind enough to tie him to a chair?”
She hesitated but as I trained my gun on her, she did my bidding.
“Good. Would you please tape his mouth too? These politicians love to talk, and I am having a really rough day to listen to his bullshit... tighter... good. Now, take your chair and put it against the cockpit door. We have a long flight ahead.”
###
Time: 10:40 AM
Location: Airspace between Bangalore and Delhi
Finally, after over a hundred attempts, I had almost perfected my way to Delhi. Within a span of two and half hours, I’d transformed from a bicycle mechanic to a pickpocket, blackmailer, thief, kidnapper, hijacker and a murderer. Even now, I held one of the highest-ranking
politicians at gunpoint. Although whatever I did was wrong, there was certainly a feeling of power to it. I marvelled at the imperfection of this world, where the oppressed were oppressed forever but once one acquired power, however illegitimate, the barriers dissolved, and the world did one’s bidding.
I wondered if I liked that power. If I should wield that power... not for stopping the bomb, but just for myself. For my entire life, I had been on the right side of the God, and what did I get in return? Was it even worth following the path of righteousness? I deserved better – better than what my life had handed out to me till now – heartless parents who abandoned me on an orphanage’s door only to be tormented by bullies there, and then Yusuf bhai, who never thought twice before letting his animal loose on me, and then to be used as an expendable weapon. Sure, I had killed, but wasn’t I better than all those who had killed a little bit of me? If this was how the world works, then shouldn’t I become like them?
I searched myself for a counter-voice. And suddenly, as if a sign from God himself answering my questions, Shazia’s helpless face, pleading to be saved from the raging fire flashed in my mind. If I were to become like them, what would be the difference between me and those who did this to her? One injustice couldn’t be a reply to another injustice. No. I can’t become like them. For myself. For her. I realized that had it not been for her, I would’ve taken a different path long ago. All this while I thought that it was I who was saving her, but the truth was, it was she who had saved me, from myself.
The intercom rang, and I picked up the receiver.
“The pilot has informed ATC of your demands,” said Nayyer from the other side. “I also talked to someone in the government. But they want to directly negotiate with you.”
I smiled. What he had skipped telling me was that as we spoke, airports were put on high alert, the Prime Minister was informed of the situation and India’s ambassador to the Afghanistan was preparing for contingency plans with their President. The entire RAW machinery was put into overdrive to identify the hijacker.
“When did I give the impression that there will be a negotiation, Mr. Nayyer?” I asked, sternly. I needed to put up a strong face.
“L... Listen... we cannot go to Afghanistan,” he said, anxiously. “We don’t have enough fuel for that.”
“Mr. Nayyer. You are more intelligent than that. You are correct that we don’t have enough fuel, but if you ask your pilot to take a look at the fuel gauge, he’ll tell you that he has 9000 liters left and that is sufficient to get us to Srinagar. Go ahead, ask him.”
There was a moment’s silence at the other end.
“H... How did you?”
“I know everything, Mr. Nayyer. Tell your handlers that and stop asking useless questions. Land us in Srinagar for re-fuelling and then we’ll be on our way to Kandhar.”
“T... They are also asking for proof of the Chief Minister’s well-being... If I or Tej Singh can come down to check on him—“
“Why don’t I send you his freshly cut finger into the cockpit as proof of his well-being?”
“NO... NO, please...”
“Then you stay put wherever you are. I’ll not be so kind for your next mistake.”
“B... But what do you want?”
“One thing at a time Mr. Nayyer, one thing at a time. Get us to Afghanistan first.”
I hung up the phone. They would agree to take us to Srinagar. I knew that. It would be a good diversion till I figured out a way to stop the blast. In fact, even now, the jet was being continuously monitored. An air-corridor was being created to make a fast passage, and satellites were being re-oriented to track it in real time. A team of NSG commandos was being arranged at Srinagar airport to attempt a rescue mission while another team was reviewing Bangalore airport’s CCTV footage and interviewing Captain Shaw. All their efforts would only lead them onto a wild goose chase around Shanti Sagar and Suraj Dhariwal. Given enough time, they might even find my name and trace their way back to the Shantiniketan Orphanage where my last official record ended five years ago. But they wouldn't have enough time. They would have far bigger problems on their hands in the next two hours if I didn’t succeed.
###
At 11:30 AM, as the plane entered Delhi airspace, it was time for me to act. The poor stewardess had been sitting obediently in her seat since I first told her to. I thought about sparing her, but I couldn’t take any risks. I tied her up in the chair and rolled a duct tape around her mouth, slitting a small hole for her to breathe. Then, with one swift motion, I swung my hand and the butt of the gun hit her right in temple, knocking her unconscious. The Chief Minister let out muffled noises from his gagged mouth.
“This was precisely the reason I sealed your mouth. Now, go to sleep,” I said with another strike. His head dropped onto the chair.
They would remain unconscious for a good hour or so. And by the time NSG commandos at Srinagar would be untying them and realizing that the hijacker wasn’t on the plane, I’d have finished my mission.
With both of them immobilized, I pulled out Jogi Ahluwalia’s parachute from underneath a seat. I strapped it on and made my way to the cargo area ignoring the dead body of the commando in the pool of blood. Once in the cargo hold, I paused for a deep breath and then pulled the lever. Cargo door of the plane opened to a serene sky. A thick stream of clouds looked like a vast cotton field below. As I walked towards the precipice, strong winds pushed me back. Summoning all my courage, I jumped. And for the second time in last three hours, I was in the open air. This time it was more difficult. I was far higher up; the temperature was freezing, and air was thinner. Icy winds burned my face as I fell rapidly towards the ground. As I passed through low clouds, I could feel the water condensing on my body. Once the fogginess of the clouds cleared and I managed a glimpse of land, I pulled the ripcord of the parachute. The chute opened, and air gushed in, a strong drag violently pulling me up.
After a long minute as my disorientation subsided, I looked at the expanse below. Even from thousands of feet above, the city sprawling in every direction was unmistakably my destination. Delhi. Towering buildings that looked like tiny matchboxes stacked side-by-side were separated by a thin criss-cross of road networks. And in the middle, cutting through the city like a random stroke of a blue brush, was serpentine Yamuna river.
To the left of Yamuna, almost at the center of the city, was a large dark green patch of a wrinkled land – Delhi Forest Reserve. The last remnant of the northmost tip of Aravali Range, older than the Himalayan ranges by a factor of twenty, extended for several kilometres along the river, and provided an ideal spot for my fall.
About ninety seconds later, with careful maneuvering, I finally landed in Delhi’s forest reserve with about 60-minutes to spare before the bomb went off.
I had pulled off a modern day D.B. Cooper. And now, for the hard part.
Tomorrow #117
Time: 12:00 PM (60 Minutes to the blast)
Location: Firozshah Kotla Cricket Stadium, New Delhi
The largest nuclear bomb ever used on a civilian population was “Fat Man” that was detonated over the Japanese city of Nagasaki during World War II. Its yield was 21 kilo Tons of TNT and fifty thousand people, 20% of the city’s population, died outright. The bomb I was against had the yield of 35 Mega Tons of TNT that’d leave an estimated four million dead and an impact crater that’d be visible from space. Millions more would die from injuries and radioactivity later.
If you had powerful weapon that can level cities in a fraction of a second, where would you plant it? Answer is Anywhere.
That posed a big problem. Finding one bomb, however large, in 1500 square kilometres of Delhi metropolis, would have been a task beyond hope. BUT I had witnessed the explosion first-hand, in my 16th run when I had tried to hijack a plane. Falling through the debris of a disintegrating plane, I saw the mushroom cloud towards my right. Once I reimagined it, I could place the rough location with respect to the geographic features I had seen. Eventuall
y, I figured that the epicentre of the blast was in central Delhi.
Once I made that deduction, things started to fall in place. For an attack of this scale terrorists would be targeting high density areas to inflict maximum damage. It made sense to have the epicentre closest to central Delhi. And then it dawned on me. The date, time and place of the explosion were not coincidental. The bastards were aiming for a mass of 45,000 people concentrated at one location—the cricket match at the Firozshah Kotla stadium!
That was my first significant clue and reduced my search area to a maximum of 2-3 kms from Firozshah Kotla. However, that still left me a large area to comb and many places to check. First, within the general neighborhood, there was a smaller ground called Ambedkar stadium that could be easily reached through Bahadur Shah Zafar Road. Then there was National Gandhi Museum, dedicated to showcasing Mahatma Gandhi’s life and principles. If the terrorists wanted to make a statement, no other place would be more ironical than this. Then, of course, across the Satyagrah marg there was Rajghat - a famous memorial to Mahatma Gandhi that featured regularly in the itineraries of foreign Presidents, Prime Ministers and even dictators who had paid their homage to the father of India. Apart from these, there were scores of open spaces, bylanes, and shops in one of the most populous cities in the world, that could potentially house the bomb.
Fortunately, I had just the solution. Every nuclear bomb contained a radioactive material. That’s what makes it ‘nuclear’. Radioactive material leaked radiation; and even though it could be shielded, it couldn’t be entirely eliminated. And this radiation was something that could be detected by a Geiger counter – my magnet to look for the proverbial needle in the haystack.
I waited near the border of Delhi Forest Reserve at the designated spot; a tall man ambled towards me with a large leather bag hanging down from one of his shoulders.
“Do you have my order?” I asked.
123 Tomorrows Page 11