03:02

by Mainak Dhar

  ‘Son of a bitch!’

  Shwetabh had allowed himself a little grin, but he was still all business, loading another missile into the tube. A few seconds later, he fired again, this time hitting one of the Humvees that had been equipped with the Stinger. The vehicle exploded on impact and I screamed in excitement as the hit cooked off one of the missiles in its launch tubes and it streaked out, hitting the main terminal building, causing another explosion and further mayhem.

  As we got into the Humvee, I heard Ronald screaming on one of the MARCOS radio sets that we had kept there.

  ‘What the fuck did you guys do? I heard you and Shwetabh were off with the Humvee on some adventure.’

  When I told him, he roared in laughter. ‘Ismail says they’ve lost it. They are transmitting in the open, in English, Arabic and god knows what other languages. One of them thinks the Americans have hit them with drones, another thinks it’s a cruise missile. Their leaders are asking them to shut up and get back to the airport. Someone talked about thirty dead before he was asked to stop transmitting in the open. Some idiot even talked about getting the Caliph to an underground parking area.’

  I looked back at the burning heaps we had left at the airport and then at Shwetabh. ‘Let’s not wait to hear back from Delhi. These fuckers invaded our home, let’s take it back ourselves. We’ve effectively shut down the airport because they have no idea who’s attacking it or how many missiles we have left, and as they deal with the chaos and hunker down, let’s hit them hard.’

  ‘You are quite mad, Aadi. You do realize that, don’t you?’

  I looked at him, a grim smile on my face. ‘I promised to avenge the kids they killed, and I fully intend to kill every single one of these bastards.’

  EIGHTEEN

  Our council of war was not a small affair. Hundreds of people were huddled in the middle of Central Avenue, but then this was not a decision to be taken by only a few of us. All of us were at war, and we needed to get everybody on board with what we were planning. There was a feeling of renewed optimism as news of the missile strikes on the airport spread. People had heard the explosions of course, but once the full nature of the damage we had caused got around, there was a lot of excitement. I overheard several people talk about how we had shut down the airport. However, the reality was that, while we had caused significant damage, and the enemy would likely not bring in any new flights till they were clear about the nature of this new threat, we only had one TOW missile left. We needed to move fast, while the enemy was still disoriented.

  There was one additional piece of news that had filtered in over the last hour which we had to factor into our plans.

  Shaikh had made contact with two teams of MARCOS in the city.

  ‘Aadi, they’re coming in towards Powai and they should be here by midnight or so.’

  ‘What weapons will they have? Will they have sniper rifles like you did?’

  ‘They should have one sniper rifle per team. That’s two rifles for the four of them. What are you thinking?’

  For all the surprises we had given the enemy, I was convinced that a frontal attack would not work. They would still have more firepower than us, and more trained fighters. We needed to continue doing what the General had advised. We had to think like insurgents.

  ‘Shaikh, I’m thinking of creating a diversion. Shwetabh here can use the last missile to hit one of their vehicles on the tarmac, making them think they’re under air attack, and the MARCOS can start taking out their guards at the checkpoint on the airport road leading to the international terminal, making them think they’re under attack from that direction. That’s when we hit them from a direction they won’t be focusing on—from the Western Express Highway through the domestic terminal.’

  I could hear a buzz pass through the gathered crowd. It was one thing to plan small ambushes, quite another to contemplate an attack on what was effectively the enemy’s headquarters. I could sense the nervous energy and realized that people needed to understand exactly what we were getting into.

  ‘This is it, people. Once we attack the airport, there’s no going back. No more nights spent wondering if we will be hit. But the flip side is that this will be all or nothing. Either we win and destroy the enemy or we lose most of our fighters and equipment. You know what will happen next. It’s a gamble, but this is the best chance we have.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we wait for Delhi? Maybe they have a plan.’

  I turned to Bhagat who had raised the question, which no doubt was on several minds.

  ‘We haven’t heard from Delhi for a while. We have no idea what is happening there and whether there is a plan at all. But look at it this way: we are all alive today because we chose to act and did not wait for someone else to save us. That’s all I’m proposing we do today as well. Between the TOW missile and the MARCOS, we have some elements of surprise up our sleeves that we can use.’

  ‘We have one more.’

  It was Flight Lieutenant Tarapore, one of the officers who had come in from Goa. He had told us that a small group of pilots and technicians had stayed behind to see if they could get more planes in the air, and now, judging by the excitement on his face, he had some news.

  ‘I just heard from Goa. They got in touch on the shortwave radio we had carried with us and they say they can have two Sea Hawks in the air. Both were lying in the Dabolim Naval Air Museum, but they’re better than nothing.’

  Having seen the last air strike and its disastrous end, and hearing that the aircraft had been in a museum, I found it hard to work up much enthusiasm.

  ‘How old are these planes, and what kind of firepower can they carry?’

  I could tell from the look on Tarapore’s face that we weren’t talking about state-of-the-art warplanes. ‘These are old planes. They flew in the 1971 war, but unlike the Alizes you saw before, they are jet powered and, at the end of the day, fighters, as compared to slow anti-submarine aircraft. Also, Aadi, I knew the two boys who flew in on the Alizes. Flying in to attack an unknown enemy in forty-year-old propeller-powered airplanes requires a certain kind of courage. That has to count for something.’

  I stood there, suitably chastised. If equipment and weapons were the only things that counted, then we would have been wiped out by now.

  ‘I’m sorry. They are welcome additions to our plan—and I can see them adding to the distraction.’

  Shwetabh had been listening in silence and now he chipped in. ‘I can make it easier for those boys by taking out that anti-air launcher with my last TOW.’

  I carried forward the thought. ‘With the two jets coming in, they will be convinced it’s an air attack, and without the surface-to-air missile, the only thing they’ll have to shoot at our planes are the heavy machine guns on the Humvees. And with the Caliph in there, I’m guessing they’ll pull back their Humvees to the terminal. That should make it easier for us to break in.’

  We spent the next hour planning, and by the time we finished, all of us were itching to go. We would have to wait a bit longer, though. The time of our first strike had been decided.

  03:02 a.m.

  The moment when our world had been painted black.

  I had advised everyone going out on the raid to get some sleep. I didn’t know about them, but I was unable to follow my own advice; I didn’t get a minute’s rest. Part of the reason was because I wanted to spend the time I had with Megha. We did not know if we would live beyond that night, and if we had nothing else, we wanted one last night together. We sat there, on my balcony, watching the airport in the distance. The lights there were still on, though I noticed several fewer lights around the tarmac. Perhaps they did indeed think they had been the victims of an air strike and were trying to present a less conspicuous target.

  Megha had her fingers intertwined in mine.

  ‘Aadi, you do remember your usual promise, don’t you?’

  I smiled as I considered my reply. ‘I have every intention of trying to get back.’

  �
�That’s not good enough, Aadi. Are you losing your usual cockiness?’

  In the short while we had been together, it was amazing just how much she could read my mind. ‘There are so many things that could go wrong, Megha. So yes, I am worried, but if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it is that the one thing that will keep me going is the fact that I want nothing more than to come back to you.’

  I kissed her and we headed downstairs together. She would be in one of the underground parking lots next to the clinic, like everyone else, and if we started receiving casualties, then she would run to the clinic. I looked at her in the moonlight, taking in all the details, remembering all the wonderful times we had spent together, and then it was time to say goodbye.

  Mahadev was, as usual, waiting for me, even though this time, he was not going to be at the wheels of the jeep or an auto-rickshaw. We were going to start off on foot.

  We gathered at Central Avenue and I could see almost every member of our community there. Ronald and Shaikh were in their combat gear and Ronald gave me a thumbs-up sign when I asked him about the two MARCOS teams.

  ‘Both are in place. They’re maintaining radio silence because they’re pretty close to the enemy checkpoint, but last I heard they had taken up positions nearby with a clear view of the enemy at the checkpoint and also the terminal.’

  ‘What about Goa?’

  Tarapore also nodded in the affirmative.

  ‘They’ll be in the air as planned. They couldn’t get ammunition for the cannon in the Sea Hawks, but have loaded them with napalm bombs. Those bastards at the airport will be nicely roasted.’

  I looked around me and realized that everyone gathered there, other than the very young and the very old, had some role to play in the coming hours. Nasir and his crew had been hard at work with the airmen, rigging up their bombs. Kundu and his crew had taken a break from gathering supplies and ferried materials that had been used to set up barriers along all approach roads. Our nightmare scenario was that we would attack the airport and they would attack our community, resulting in a situation where we might well make inroads into their headquarters but risk them capturing our home. So, hauling whatever they could lay their hands on, or whatever their imaginations conjured, the crew had set up barriers comprising bricks, refrigerators, tables, and even advertising hoardings. They would not stop a concerted attack by the Humvees, but they would certainly cause any attacking force to slow down and corral them into killing zones where our bombs were placed.

  Our defences were going to be in the hands of Ismail, who still could not take any part in the fighting, but was leading the cops who had come in from Goa and most of the airmen. They were to be armed with the police .303s, pistols and the sten guns we had got from Sinha’s bodyguards. They stood to one side in formation and saluted. I saluted back. We all knew that they would never be able to hold back a full-scale assault, since most of our fighting strength and firepower were going to be deployed at the airport, but if the enemy was going to launch a full-scale assault on our homes, then our plan had failed anyway and all was lost. They knew that as well, and the grim determination on their faces showed that, if it came to that, at least they would make it as expensive as possible for the enemy.

  Mohit and his friends had been busy as well, and he walked up to me, handing me a couple of bags. ‘I told you I’d have a gift for you. We’ve been working on these all morning. They’re fully charged and powered by solar panels.’

  When he told me what they were, I smiled and thanked him. We needed all the surprises we could get on our side.

  Nitish had his own crew going, made up of Rani and her agriculture team, except that today their job was not to plant crops but to follow Nitish’s instructions in executing a critical part of the plan. And then there were, of course, all the others who would be responsible for ensuring people got water to drink, that the sick were being taken care of, and that the small children were in one room and calmed. The mortar attacks had terrified the kids, and Shwetabh’s wife, Naina, and some of the other officers’ spouses had organized what they were calling a ‘sleepover’. I looked at the small children, many of them smiling and laughing, excited at the prospect of an all-night party. They had no idea of the danger we faced, and that was good. Perhaps the true sign of being secure is when your children can still retain their innocence.

  I kept running different elements of the plan through my mind, wondering if we were missing anything, but then I realized we were as prepared as we were going to get. If there was anything I had learned in the last two weeks, it was that when you went to battle, things always changed. What was important was not just having a good plan to start with, but how you adapted and reacted when those plans didn’t work out.

  Shwetabh, Pandey and Gurpreet were huddled with their crews and, as I passed them, Pandey saluted.

  ‘Sir, I wish we were out there from the beginning.’

  ‘You will be there, Pandeyji, but you know we can’t risk our vehicles being heard too early. Once you see the signal, I do want you to get there as fast as possible with our armoured corps.’

  ‘Yes, sir!’

  I shook hands with Shwetabh and he smiled as we said our goodbyes.

  ‘Aadi, when we were out there in the bloody Thar desert we would complain about the civvies sitting at home, going about their lives while we slogged to keep them safe. I don’t think I’ll ever say that again. What you’ve done here is amazing, and it sounds clichéd, but it has been a real honour to have the opportunity to fight as part of the Azad Hind Fauj.’

  I saw Anu and Mrs Khatri move among the group, holding plates. We had a limited stock of packaged milk, and while Rani had been planning to venture beyond IIT or even as far as Aarey colony to see if we could get cows that had been abandoned or lost, milk was a rarity for us, largely conserved for the kids. Today, Anu and Mrs Khatri had decided to use some of those precious stocks. They went around passing sweets they had made. It was only appropriate, after all; and the choice of the day when we would launch our assault was also appropriate. Given the circumstances, I doubted we’d need firecrackers to provide light and sound—we had more than enough bullets to do that—but there would be a time and role for firecrackers; and with our plan, we would light up the community far more than any number of lamps would. Yes, it was a good day to rid ourselves of the evil that had been plaguing us, and dispel the blackness that had overcome our world. A day when all Indians celebrated a festival that commemorated the victory of good over evil by lighting lamps and bursting firecrackers. As we said our goodbyes, I kissed Megha and said, ‘Happy Diwali.’

  We set out at just before two in the morning. There had been no sign till then of an impending attack, and we just had to hope that there would not be one for the next one hour before our plan got into motion.

  There were forty of us, most of them from our community—the ones who were the fittest, and with the most combat experience over the last two weeks—and some of our recent additions including the four NDA cadets and six airmen who had worked in search and rescue and were trained to operate behind enemy lines. Shaikh and Ronald were there as well. Between us, we had all our stocks of bulletproof vests and AK-47s. In short, the vast majority of our fighting strength was being used in this one throw of the dice, and I just hoped it worked.

  Someone had said it would be a six or seven kilometre jog, and I was setting a pretty good pace with the others slightly behind me, all except one who was right beside me and I suspected could have gone ahead had he wanted. Manish Iyer was a respected doctor with a clinic in the area and also an avid marathoner. He had been helping Guenther with the clinic but had insisted on coming along for this attack. While he professed to have no fighting skills, he thought it would be a good idea to have a doctor along as it signalled to our fighters that, if they got hit, there was help close at hand and we were not going to abandon them. It made a lot of sense to me and so there he was, jogging by my side.

  We ran in silence, th
ough with no traffic and no other human voices around, it felt like our breathing could be heard for miles away. We had debated going on bicycles. It would have been quicker and less tiring, but the whole idea was for us to move with the most stealth possible.

  Iyer signalled for me to pause as we reached the Western Express Highway and we crouched by the side of the road.

  ‘Movement ahead,’ he whispered. Ronald came up beside us and he too crouched down, looking through his night vision glasses.

  ‘It’s a dog. Doc, unless we’re declaring war on mongrels suspected of terrorist affiliations, we’re good to go.’

  Iyer chuckled and we moved on. Just before 3 o’clock, we reached the road turning in towards the domestic airport terminals. Ronald warned us that there was a substantial checkpoint there. We had assumed as much, and when I looked through the night vision glasses, I saw at least five men about five hundred metres away. They all seemed to be armed with assault rifles and, no doubt, they would have night vision glasses as well. I could see a heavy machine gun mounted among the sandbags and there was a Humvee parked behind them.

  Our plan called for us to get through them without firing a shot, and while that was possible if all parts of our plan worked, I was beginning to consider what would happen if we had to use Plan B and blast our way through them. We had the firepower and numbers to do so, but we would lose the element of surprise that we had hoped to have in assailing the international terminal.

  We would know in the next few minutes what the morning held in store for us.