03:02

by Mainak Dhar

  He ran through the weapons inventory and those he wanted on the weapons teams. Nobody seemed to object to it and I noted that he’d left out the two pistols I had, one of which was now with Mahadev. I nodded at Mahadev. ‘You can keep yours. You’ve proven yourself in battle.’

  He beamed and seemed to stand a foot taller. The General had another suggestion. ‘At all our checkpoints, we are essentially blind till someone gets close. Also, our lamps there actually work against us since any approaching enemy can see us long before we see them. Nitish, can you get some volunteers to set up kerosene lamps or torches at least a couple of hundred meters ahead of each checkpoint? That way we’ll have some advance warning of who is coming our way in the dark.’

  Another set of people headed off, and by now more than half those who had gathered there had left to get to work. I called out to Dr Guenther. ‘Doctor, you, Megha and Marie were enough for normal illnesses and injuries, but if there is fighting, people will get shot and suffer more serious injuries. It may be prudent to start an ambulance corps of our own using one of the auto-rickshaws and to start training a few more paramedics.’

  As people got busy with their duties, Akif pointed to the gear we had brought back. The AK-47s were a big boost to our firepower, but he pointed out things which would be perhaps equally, if not more, useful. He handed me one of the two bulletproof vests we had recovered.

  ‘You should wear one. We’ll save the other one for whoever is on hazardous duty.’

  ‘Why me?’

  He winked at me before saying, ‘Because you have a habit of putting yourself in harm’s way.’

  Then he pointed to the handheld radio on the table and turned it on. We heard static followed by some words in a language we couldn’t understand. With a big grin, Ismail said, ‘Those sons of whores don’t know Akif and I can understand Arabic. They’re asking their patrols to be on the watch for attackers. By listening in on this we will know what they’re planning.’

  An hour later, Megha and I were sitting in my apartment and she was holding my hand, trying to calm me.

  ‘You can’t think of everything, you know.’

  I turned towards her in the dim light offered by the candle burning on the bedside table. While each apartment could have powered up lights using the generator, in an almost unspoken agreement, we were foregoing that luxury, a sign that we were all hunkering down for the long haul. Also, we knew the lights on in our apartments would not have gone unnoticed by the terrorists earlier. There was nothing we could do to undo that, but keeping them on now felt like painting a target on ourselves. While some essential lights were needed—in the common areas, the hospital and in the common washrooms—most were at lower levels and not visible from the airport.

  ‘I know, Megha. But I feel responsible. That’s new for me. I was single, and all I had to worry about was my job and career. Now I have people who think I know what I’m doing, and I have you.’

  Megha held me tight. ‘You know what my mom would tell my dad every time he’d go on a sortie? That he should not worry about us; he should not make us a weakness. Instead, he should take strength from knowing that so many families like ours depended on him.’

  ‘Megha, he was a career officer. Till a week ago I was a cubicle dweller for whom a bitter battle meant arguing for investments from the head office.’

  She smiled, leaned in and kissed me. ‘Now we’re all warriors, and fighting together for us is what will give us strength.’

  Suddenly I recoiled and she stared at me. ‘Did I say or do something wrong?’

  ‘Shit, I don’t want to repeat my mistake.’

  ‘What mistake?’

  ‘Of just worrying about us and leaving others in danger. The people at Nahar have no idea of who’s out there and the danger they’ll be in if the terrorists come towards us. I’m sure the terrorist leaders have spotted the lights in our building. If they come here, they will pass Nahar, and the people there will have no idea who they’re dealing with. A few college students with hockey sticks might have scared off looters, but they’ll be massacred by these guys.’

  ‘You can’t go out in the dark now, Aadi.’

  ‘I’ll be back. I promise I’ll come back to you, but I need to do this.’

  It was a big gamble. I knew we could lose some of our firearms if we ended up getting into a fight and lost—but I didn’t bother to ask for permission. In what now seemed like a different life, Dhruv had once taught me a lesson that I brought to work on many occasions: If you really want a breakthrough, it’s better to ask for forgiveness later than to always ask for permission. In a very different context, where the stakes were infinitely higher, I was following my old boss’ advice. I had no idea how Dhruv and his family had coped with the Blackout and its aftermath, but I could do nothing for them. I could, however, do something for the families in the school at Nahar.

  I told only those I thought would be up to such a crazy venture—Akif, Ismail, Mahadev and Pandey. They were more than eager to come with me—Akif said he heard someone on the radio asking for a raiding party to search out nearby apartments for those who had killed their men. We decided against taking an auto-rickshaw because we would be heard coming from a long way off in the silence of the night, and instead took a bicycle each.

  The ride to Nahar was uneventful enough but we didn’t push our luck—we dismounted our bicycles well before we reached and proceeded on foot. We were all wearing dark clothes and Akif had insisted we rub black shoe polish on our faces. Given that all of us were varying shades of brown, this measure was a bit unnecessary, if not melodramatic, but it seemed to help give them all confidence, and so I didn’t say anything about this further attempt at pretending to be elite commandoes and not a motley crew comprising an executive, two out-of-shape businessmen, an auto-rickshaw driver and a pot-bellied security guard.

  Without realizing it, I had held my breath during the hundred metre or so walk in the darkness to the school, and I exhaled in relief when I was greeted by two pimply teenagers carrying cricket bats and not more dead bodies. I was let in when one of them recognized me from my earlier trip. Mahadev and Pandey stood guard outside while Akif and Ismail went further down the road to warn us if we were going to have company. I went into the school auditorium to find it packed with at least a hundred people, mostly families with several young children. The elderly man I had met earlier now came up to greet me.

  ‘We were never properly introduced. My name is Vikas Sood and I am the chairman of the society and also used to be the principal of the school. It was my idea to have everyone seek shelter here.’

  ‘That choice was the right one if the problem was going to go away in a few days, but it looks like it’s much more serious than we thought.’

  I told him what we had seen on the airport road and the confrontation with the terrorists. I could see his face sag and many of the people in the group started asking questions all at once.

  ‘Will they come here?’

  ‘Where are the police?’

  I turned towards the woman who had asked the last question.

  ‘There are no police around, at least in any organized force that we have seen. For now, we are on our own. I thought I’d warn you so you could keep all your lights off.’

  I turned to leave when I heard the sounds of someone running. It was Ismail, and he looked winded and worried.

  ‘They were on the radio again. They definitely have local help. We heard one of their patrols saying that one of the locals had info about people being holed up around here. Then I heard someone talk to them in English. He told them that the area was a colony called Nahar. At least one patrol is on their way here. They sound pretty pissed about losing their men.’

  Vikas Sood grabbed my hand and, almost on the verge of tears, said, ‘They’re coming here! You have guns and you are safe in your societies. We will be slaughtered.’

  Someone began to cry and one or two of the kids, alarmed at the sudden tension, began to c
ry as well.

  ‘Stop it, let me think.’

  I knew we had turned away refugees before and that was the policy we had agreed on. Of course, that was before we knew there were terrorists out there. Could I leave these people here, knowing that there was a very high chance they would be killed? No, I wasn’t an elected leader, but equally, there was no way I could get back home, take permission and return. I had to make this decision and live with the consequences.

  ‘Mr Sood, leave now. Don’t bother trying to pack or gather anything, just leave right now. And, you really need to walk as fast as you possibly can. It’s just about two kilometres out so the fitter and younger folks will get there quicker but the others may take half an hour on foot. Pandeyji will lead you to our society and ensure the guards there don’t stop you.’

  I called Mahadev in.

  ‘Mahadev, ride on ahead on your cycle as fast as you can and get a few auto-rickshaws out. They can meet those that are lagging behind and get them to our society as soon as possible.’

  As everyone began to troop out, I saw Akif running towards me. Seeing the panicked evacuation, he spoke to me in a hushed whisper and I was glad he did, because if the others had heard the news he brought, I suspected we would lose the little semblance of order we had.

  ‘There’s good news and bad news. The bad news is that they’re on the way. Maybe ten minutes out at best. I saw them with my binoculars when they turned on their headlights to navigate a turn between abandoned cars.’

  I looked at Akif incredulously. ‘I can’t imagine what the good news might be!’

  I could see his teeth gleam in the darkness as he replied. ‘There are only two of them on one bike. They’re still complacent and overconfident and we sure could use two more AKs. I heard four teams on the radio, and they obviously have poor radio discipline or just don’t think anyone can understand Arabic here. Their other patrols are far away and won’t get here anytime soon—one is in Vikhroli, and the two others have actually gone as far the Western Express Highway. We could be back home in five minutes on the bike.’

  I looked at Akif. He claimed to be a businessman who once had military training, but I suspected he had spent much more time in the military than he was letting on. That was the only explanation for his looking forward to a confrontation with armed terrorists. Either that, or he was stark raving mad. He saw the puzzled look in my eyes, and his face took on a fierce expression.

  He held up his right hand and I saw a ring with a gleaming yellow stone in it. ‘Perhaps things happen for a reason,’ he said. ‘My wife gifted me this ring on my birthday. I lost her and my daughter in a suicide bombing when I was a young officer and that’s when I decided to quit the Army and look after the family that remained. Now, maybe I am getting a chance to even the score a bit.’

  I thought back to the little boys I had seen stretched out on the airport road, their brains blown out. I thought of all the lives that had been lost so far, and the many more that would undoubtedly be lost before this was over.

  Yes, evening the score was something I could sign up for.

  And if took a little bit of madness to contemplate that, then I was happy to embrace that madness.

  Akif was hidden under a car just a few feet away from the school and I was behind the school gate, lying concealed behind the large bin that had served as the garbage dump for the occupants. It was filthy and I was sure I would stink for a long time afterwards, but it was also a safe bet that the terrorists would not dig through the garbage when they came looking for people. Ismail had wanted to stay but we had asked him not to: if we did succeed, a quick getaway on a motorcycle was possible if there were only two of us; and, if we failed, there was no point in losing both the AKs we had.

  We did not have to wait long. Within fifteen minutes I heard the growling sounds of a motorcycle engine as it entered the road. The bike stopped just outside the gate. We had left the lamp on upstairs, locked the main door from the inside and climbed out a side window. I peeked around the corner of the bin to see two men walk into the school compound. I had a pistol but waited for the two men to stand before the front door. One of them was tall and thickly built, the other smaller and leaner.

  The big man shouted in broken English, ‘Come out and we will not harm.’

  When there was no reply, he pounded on the door with his fist and then spoke to the smaller man who repeated the order in Hindi and Marathi. So this was the traitor who was helping the terrorists. Of course there was no reply, and of course they thought whoever was inside had locked themselves in. The big man braced himself, leaning back on one heel, and then landed a mighty kick on the door, sending it flying off its hinges.

  That was when I rushed him. He was off balance and focused on who or what was inside and so was taken completely by surprise when I jumped him from behind. With my right hand I brought down a fist-sized rock on the base of his skull and, as he began to go down, with my left I brought up one of the knives we had recovered from the terrorists in our earlier encounter and held it tight against his neck. The man struggled a bit but I had him pinned down with my entire body weight on him and my knees digging into the small of his back. His right hand was now pinioned behind him in a wrist lock and the serrated edges of the seven-inch blade were digging into his neck.

  His friend might have reacted had Akif not rushed him from behind and smashed the butt of the AK-47 against his head. He was down, and from the blood I could see pooling under his head, probably dead. The man under me cursed in Arabic, and when Akif said something to him in the same language, he went very still.

  ‘Strip him of all his gear,’ I said. I held the man still as Akif took his knife, pistol and ammunition belts and placed them next to the gear he had taken from the other man.

  The man below me growled in heavily-accented English, ‘Cowards. Kill me if you have courage or I behead you one day and enslave your woman.’

  I pushed the knife against his throat and felt him go still again. Going in, Akif and I had expected this to be a quick firefight followed by an even quicker getaway. We had never really bargained on taking anyone alive, but once the opportunity had presented itself, I took the chance hoping to get some information about what we were up against.

  ‘Where have you come from? How many of you are there at the airport?’

  The man spat on the ground. ‘I will slaughter all your children like the white ones we killed. I shot two while they cried for their mothers and we carried the women away while they begged us to spare their children.’

  Wrong move. Very wrong move. To be honest, till that point I had not really contemplated killing him in cold blood. I got off the man and handed the knife to Akif. The man got to his knees unsteadily, unsure as to what was happening. He looked at me, wondering if I was going to free him, when I hit him with all my strength, my blow aimed at his solar plexus. His breath came out in a giant whoosh and he seemed to fold in on himself.

  ‘Get up and fight. I give you a chance to show that you can kill someone other than defenceless kids.’

  I was pretty sure I had broken some ribs and the man looked to be in intense pain, but he decided to grab the chance I was offering. He grinned, his teeth showing through his bushy beard, tinged red by the blood that was flowing freely down the side of his face from the wound to his head where I had struck him. He got up and began to assume a fighting stance, but before he could move, I stepped in and kicked his feet out from under him. As he was going down, I stepped past him, striking him on the neck with the edge of my palm. I had given him all the chances he was going to get, and I was in no mood to give any quarter. He started to get up but I smashed my fist into his cheek, and he went down again, spitting out teeth and blood.

  ‘Come on. I thought you were going to behead me.’

  He started to get up and lashed out with a weak slap with his right hand. I parried it with my left hand, moved inside his arc of motion and brought up my right elbow, making contact with all my strength
under the bridge of his nose. His nose collapsed and as the bone shards from it pushed back into his brain, he fell, dead.

  I looked towards Akif, who was staring at me.

  ‘Get his radio and the bulletproof vests. Let’s put the bodies deeper inside the building and hide them. I guess they’ll come looking for their missing men and perhaps find them eventually, but the longer they take, the better for us.’

  It took us five minutes to finish up, and in that time, the radio crackled to life several times.

  ‘They’re asking where this patrol is now and asking others to come by the school to look for them.’

  ‘Then it’s time we got out of there. Come on Akif, I haven’t ridden a bike in years. Hold on tight.’

  He began to laugh as we rode away.

  My god, he was mad.

  But what did that make me?

  I came home and collapsed on the bed, exhausted by the night’s activities. Dreams of bloodied, bearded men with knives kept me tossing and turning till I felt Megha’s arms close around me. Then I slept till morning.

  ‘You promised that you wouldn’t get into trouble,’ Megha said when she saw I was awake.

  I sat up, trying to look angry but not doing a very good job of it. ‘I promised I’d come back to you, and I have.’

  She hugged me and we sat there for a while, savouring each other’s company and the fact that in this crazy, dangerous world we now lived in, there was still some love and comfort to be found.

  ‘You do realize lots of people are mighty pissed with you. As am I.’

  ‘Why?’

  She looked at me, a smile on her lips.

  ‘Akif’s been telling anyone who’ll listen about the fight. Why did you have to be a hero and fight that terrorist instead of just shooting him?’