The Eye of Shiva

by Alex Lukeman

  A sudden headache and wave of nausea sent Rao scurrying to the washroom. He leaned over the bowl and threw up his breakfast. It was a reminder that whatever he decided to do about Afridi, it would have to be soon.

  He told his assistant he'd be gone the rest of the day. He hailed a cab on Lodhi Road and not long after was walking toward the bench where Krivi waited for him.

  "You seem pale, my friend," Krivi said, concern written on his face. "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine. A little nausea earlier. I'm fine now."

  "I have something to help with that," Krivi said. He took a bottle of white pills from his jacket pocket. "These will keep the nausea down and give you an energy boost."

  Rao took the bottle. "Thank you. Is that why you wanted to meet? To give me these?"

  "Partly. I wanted to give you this as well."

  Krivi withdrew a clear plastic envelope containing a blue card from his jacket pocket. The card had a magnetic stripe on it, like a credit card, only this card was bigger. Rao recognized the crossed swords and three headed lion of the Indian Army printed on the corner.

  "Do you know what this is?" Krivi asked.

  Rao felt a chill of recognition. "It looks like a code card, one that could be used to launch one of our missiles."

  Krivi nodded. "That is exactly what it is."

  "How did you get that?" Rao asked. In spite of himself he was shocked.

  "It doesn't matter. This card contains guidance data for an Agni III missile. The target is Islamabad."

  Krivi handed the envelope and card to Rao.

  "What do you want me to do with it?" Rao said. He already knew the answer.

  "I want you to use it. It will only work with the Agni III. A shorter range missile might have been better, but this was the best I could do."

  Agni III had a range of up to 5000 kilometers, overkill for a nearby target like Islamabad. It carried a nuclear warhead. Rao's mind was a jumble of thoughts.

  "When? How? I hadn't planned on this."

  "You'll know the right time to do it," Krivi said. "When the war starts, we can't risk a first strike from Pakistan. You know that Lanka will never launch first. By the time he realizes Pakistan's missiles are in the air, it will be too late. We must not let that happen."

  India had an avowed policy of no first strike. Rao thought it a foolish policy that encouraged a potential enemy to deliver a first, fatal blow. Pakistan had enough missiles to destroy India. If India used her nuclear arsenal, Pakistan would cease to exist except as a radioactive wasteland. The threat of mutual assured destruction had so far kept the two countries from each other's throats.

  Rao's mind was already thinking of how it might be done. A vision of a mushroom cloud rising over Islamabad filled his mind's eye.

  Revenge.

  "The codes change on a regular basis," Rao said. "How long is this good for?"

  "Until the end of this month," Krivi said.

  CHAPTER 31

  It was a beautiful October day, the kind of day that marked cooler weather and the onset of Indian Summer. Elizabeth was holding the regular morning briefing. The team sat in their usual semi-circle in front of her desk. The cat lay on his back in a patch of sunlight coming through the French doors to the patio, snoring.

  Harker's black suit jacket was draped over the back of her chair. She wore a white silk blouse with a Mao collar and black pearl buttons.

  "Ronnie is still in intensive care in an induced coma," she said. "He's stable. It's about the best we can hope for at the moment. Now we're going to move on. I want to find out who pulled the strings that got him shot. Steph thinks she has something. I'll let her brief you."

  "My new program is up and running," Stephanie said. "There are still a few bugs but it gives us more capability. For the moment, it's working fine."

  "What did you find out?" Nick's voice was tinged with impatience.

  Stephanie was annoyed. "I'm getting to it."

  "Sorry."

  "First, the call from the American Embassy to Abu Khan is a dead end. It came from an office phone on the third floor. Anyone could have used it when no one else was around."

  Stephanie paused and took a sip of coffee from a mug bearing the logo of the Oakland Raiders.

  "The intercepted calls between ISOK and the terrorists in the embassy are a different story," she said. "The records show the calls coming from Pakistan. We know Afridi hides out in Pakistan and we know where his base is. I wanted to confirm it was him, so I went looking for the exact location of the phone that made the calls."

  She touched a key on her laptop. The office wall monitor came to life with an aerial view of a large city. She touched another key and the picture zoomed in on the roof of a tall building set back from a pleasant, tree-lined street. The roof of the building was studded with antennas and satellite dishes.

  "This is what I found. Doesn't look much like Pakistan, does it? The calls came from here."

  "Where is it?" Nick asked.

  "New Delhi." Steph sat back, looking pleased with herself. She waited.

  Nick looked confused. "Why would Afridi be in New Delhi?"

  "I have a better question," Selena said. "What building is that?"

  "It's the headquarters of the Research and Analysis Wing, India's CIA," Stephanie said.

  "Holy shit," Lamont said. "Spooks are behind this?"

  "I'm pretty certain Afridi isn't hanging out in the headquarters of RAW making phone calls."

  "If it wasn't Afridi, who was it?" Nick asked.

  "I don't know," Steph said. "All I can tell you is that those calls originated somewhere in that building."

  Harker took a sip from a bottle of water on her desk.

  "I guess we were right," she said.

  "About what?"

  "That it could be an intelligence agency making it look like Pakistan ordered the attacks. RAW's involvement changes everything," she said. "It makes things a lot more complicated."

  "You think?" Lamont said.

  Harker gave him a warning look. "Someone in that building has gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like ISOK and Pakistan are responsible for what's happened."

  "It can't be a low level official," Nick said. "It has to be someone who can use serious agency resources without anyone questioning what he's doing."

  "And who can keep it hidden," Lamont said.

  "It's their CIA," Steph said. "Everyone who works there keeps things hidden."

  "What does it take to fake cell phone calls like that?" Nick said.

  "Planting a call is easy, if you know what you're doing," Steph said. "Making it look like this is a different story. Even the NSA thinks those calls came from Pakistan."

  "How high up do you think it goes?" Selena asked Elizabeth.

  "Hard to tell. I don't think it's the man who runs the agency. He's a liberal, an appointee of the Prime Minister. The PM is afraid of getting into an armed conflict with Pakistan. The last thing either of them wants is a war."

  Nick scratched his ear. "Steph, you tracked the phone. Can you call it?"

  Stephanie looked surprised. She began fiddling with the bracelets circling her left wrist.

  "I never thought of that. Yes, if it still exists and it's turned on."

  "So why don't we call and see who answers?" Nick said. "How long will it take you to do it?"

  "I can do it right now."

  Elizabeth said, "Hold on, Nick. Let's talk about it first. What would be the point in calling him?"

  "Aside from finding out who answers? We could rattle the bastard's cage. "

  "Why?"

  "Why not? If he knows we're on to him, he may make a mistake that could expose him."

  "I don't think we should call him," Selena said. "He's smart, he won't rattle easily. All it would do is make him more dangerous."

  "We have to find out who he is," Nick said.

  "You think I don't know that?"

  Harker reached for her pen. "Steph, can you intercept calls
made on that phone?"

  "Sure. Now that I've broken the encryption, his phone is mine. Anything he says can be understood."

  "Good. Set it up."

  Nick looked uncomfortable. "I didn't think of that. I should have."

  "You're letting your feelings get the best of you," Elizabeth said. "You're upset about Ronnie and you want to strike back. We all want to take this man down. I need to know you can keep a clear head about this."

  "I understand," Nick said. "You don't have to worry about it."

  Selena heard him say the words but she wasn't sure he meant it.

  "We need an operational name for him," Elizabeth said. "Until we know more, we'll call him Cobra."

  "Are you going to tell the president about this?" Stephanie asked.

  "Yes, but not yet. We need to know who Cobra is before I go to him."

  CHAPTER 32

  The Hazratbal Mosque was a magnificent building on the shores of Lake Dal in the city of Srinagar. The mosque was built entirely of white marble and was famous for a shrine housing a true hair of the prophet Mohammed. That put it high on the list of pilgrimage destinations for devout Muslims.

  Abdul Afridi was under no illusions about his chances if he strayed far or long from his protected compound in Pakistan. He was marked for assassination. He couldn't risk the journey to Mecca required of the faithful. Until the day came when he could make the Hajj, Afridi had vowed to visit Hazratbal and view the relic of the Prophet once a year as an act of devotion. He'd slipped in and out of Kashmir many times without being detected.

  The hair of the Prophet could only be viewed on a few special days. One was fast approaching and Afridi had decided to go, in spite of the increased attention focused on him since the attacks in the Philippines.

  It was widely believed that he was responsible. The attacks staged in his name had created problems for him, but whoever was behind it had done him a favor. His status among the jihadists had skyrocketed. His reputation had never been so high. Everyone thought he was lying when he denied involvement. Recruitment was up. Donations were pouring in.

  They were needed, the gold was almost gone.

  Afridi thought back on the day Allah had led him to the coins.

  He'd been traveling back to his compound in Pakistan with Abu Khan after meeting with the Taliban leaders in Kandahar. The American drones still targeted vehicles in Taliban territory and they'd gone on foot, accompanied by a mule to carry supplies. Their weapons were hidden. From the air, they were just two more Afghani peasants.

  They weren't far from the border with Pakistan, where his men would meet him with vehicles to take them the rest of the way. It was late in the day and Afridi had begun to think about making camp for the night.

  Afridi and Khan were walking at the bottom of a canyon, following the bed of an ancient watercourse. The ground underneath was a mixture of gravel, rock and coarse sand. Steep rock walls rose above them for thousands of feet on either side.

  The mule began tossing his head and braying, pulling on the rope halter Khan used to lead him.

  "Stupid beast," Kahn said. He struck the mule with a stick and yanked on the halter. "I'll be glad when we're rid of you."

  Overhead a flock of birds took flight, wings beating frantically against the thin mountain air.

  The ground trembled beneath their feet. Kahn and Afridi looked at one another. Earthquakes were common in this region. Both spoke at once.

  "Earthquake."

  "Get away from the walls."

  The mule broke free of Khan's hold and ran down the canyon. Stones began shaking loose from above, bouncing around them. The ground bucked and heaved underfoot. Afridi struggled to keep upright. A low, menacing rumble echoed down the defile, vibrating against the rock walls of the canyon. Ahead, the ancient river bed widened out into a broad, open area.

  "Run for it," Khan shouted.

  They staggered in a shambling run toward the protection of open space. Ahead, a boulder tumbled from high above and struck the crazed mule, crushing the helpless animal beneath its weight. A stone struck Afridi on his shoulder and knocked him to his knees. He cried out in pain, got up and kept running. They passed the twitching body of the mule and stumbled onto the wide part of the canyon floor. When they reached the center, they stopped and waited for the tremor to pass. After what seemed a long time, it subsided.

  A second tremor began, stronger than the first. The air filled with dust and the sound of mountains moving. Afridi fell to the ground and prayed that none of the falling rock would crush him like the mule. Through the dust and flying debris he watched a waterfall of rock collapse onto the path ahead.

  The earth stopped moving.

  Khan raised himself up on his hands and knees and said, "Do you think it's over?"

  "Insha'Allah it is over."

  Afridi got to his feet. The old riverbed was littered with stones and boulders, some bigger than the one that had killed the unfortunate mule.

  "What's that?" Kahn said. He pointed at a white, curved object sticking up out of loose rocks at the side of the canyon.

  They walked closer until they could see what it was. There was more than one.

  "Bones," Afridi said. "Big ones. They look like ribs."

  "Only one animal big enough to have ribs like that," Kahn said. "Elephant."

  "These have been here a long time." Afridi looked around. "The earthquake uncovered them."

  "How did they get here?"

  Afridi looked toward the sky. "There used to be a trail up there, a route to India. Nobody's used it for a long time. It's unsafe, the rock is loose. The elephant could have fallen from there."

  "Nobody uses elephants anymore."

  Afridi shrugged. "As I said, no one has used that trail for a long time."

  He knelt down over the bones. A dark shape stuck out from under the pile of rocks.

  "What's that?" Khan said.

  "It looks like a box," Afridi said.

  The two men cleared rocks away. The box was dark with age, made of hard wood. It had rusted hinges and an elaborate iron padlock. The lid was studded with tarnished brass and bound with straps of rotting leather.

  "Old," Khan said. "It must've been on the elephant's back."

  He used the butt of his AK to break the lock away from the box and lifted the lid. Yellow metal gleamed up at him. Khan reached into the box and picked up a coin.

  "Gold," he said softly. "The shahada is written upon it."

  "That can be no accident," Afridi said. His voice was touched with reverence. "Allah has smiled upon us. This will bring many fighters to our side."

  "And many enemies," Khan said, "if they learn of this."

  Both men had the same thought. "It must be part of Nader Shah's treasure," Afridi said.

  "He's supposed to have come this way," Khan said.

  "Only you and I must know of it."

  "With the mule dead, there's too much for us to carry away."

  "We'll take what we can and hide the rest."

  The pile of rocks that had hidden the remains of the elephant was large. It sat at the bottom of a long scar carved out of the canyon wall where the trail had collapsed centuries before. Only the outer layer of the pile had been disturbed by the earthquake. Afridi wondered what else might be under those rocks. Without men and tools to move the boulders, it was impossible to know.

  They walked back to the body of the mule and salvaged enough food and firewood for a meal.

  "Come, brother," Afridi said. "It's time for the evening prayer. Let us give thanks for Allah's blessing. Tomorrow is soon enough to conceal what we have found."

  The next morning they covered up all signs of the elephant bones and set off for home. If there was anything else under those rocks, it wasn't going anywhere. There was time to plan how it might be done.

  Afridi's thoughts came back to the present. The gold from the box was almost gone. It was time to see if there was more. He decided to clear away the rock fall. Afridi had
chosen a new lieutenant to replace Khan, Ibrahim Sayeed. Sayeed would pick men who could be trusted from Afridi's fighters.

  Afridi stepped outside his whitewashed house. The view from his walled compound looked up on the snow-covered peaks of the Hindu Kush. A chill in the air hinted at the coming winter. Overhead, the sky was a thin, clear blue. He could hear the women gossiping in the community kitchen across the way.

  The peace of the day shattered as a jet fighter passed low overhead, on its way back to the Pakistani airbase bordering his compound. Afridi didn't mind the loud noise of planes overhead. The location next to the airbase was the reason the Americans and the Indians had avoided targeting him with their drones. They knew where he was and couldn't do a thing about it.

  Ibrahim Sayeed sat on a chair on the hard packed earth, cleaning his rifle. He rose as Afridi came over.

  "Salaam aleikum."

  "Aleikum salaam," Afridi replied. He touched his chest. "We are going to Srinagar. I must visit Hazratbal and fulfill my vow. "

  "Is that wise?" Sayeed said. "With the increased surveillance it will be difficult."

  "Insha'Allah, our enemies will not find us."

  Sayeed placed his hand over his heart in acknowledgment.

  "When do you wish to leave?"

  "In three days' time. Inform our friends in Srinagar."

  "Will you at least disguise yourself this time?" Sayeed said. His voice was filled with concern.

  Afridi had never made much effort in the past to alter his appearance on one of these journeys. If Allah wanted to hand him over to his enemies, there was nothing to be done about it. Nonetheless, it wasn't necessary to tempt fate out of pride. It would encourage Sayeed if Afridi listened to him.

  "If you think it is the best thing," Afridi said.

  "I do."

  Afridi nodded his assent.

  "Everything will be ready."

  Sayeed picked up his rifle and walked away to begin preparations. Afridi went back into his hut, unaware the conversation had been overheard.

  Everyone thought Wahid Malik a dedicated fighter, committed to the cause. The truth was somewhat different. Malik worked for Ashok Rao, with orders to avoid all contact unless he had information of vital importance. What Malik had just heard more than qualified. Here in Pakistan, Afridi was beyond the reach of the agency. Once he left the country, he was vulnerable. In Srinagar he could be taken.