by Rahul Badami
It’s working. We can get this done. Shikha looked around at the team. Most of them were watching the screen and inputting their commands to the BMD system. She looked at Tanmay, he was on the phone speaking with someone.
“Tanmay, we are in a crisis here.” Shikha said, “I need you to focus on your job instead of being on the phone.”
Tanmay spoke a few words and then hung up the phone and then looked at his computer screen. “I am doing my job.”
“Good.” Shikha couldn’t believe that Tanmay could shirk his responsibilities at such an important moment for them when she wanted all hands on deck. She turned to look back at the screen and realized that a few of the BMD missiles had missed their mark. As she watched another couple of BMD missiles missed their targets. She looked at the remaining BMD missiles and compared them with the incoming missiles. The blood drained from her face as she realized that both the numbers were the same.
They had reached missile saturation point.
It meant that each BMD missile had to hit its target with one hundred percent accuracy.
There were twenty missiles still incoming. She watched as the two streaks collided and vanished. Then another. She started to exhale now. Maybe it might just work.
The next BMD missile missed its target. Shikha watched in horror as the red streak continued its path. Oh dear God, she uttered. Even one missile could kill thousands of people. She couldn’t take her eyes off the screen as she watched another BMD missile miss. And then another.
A few BMD missiles still hit their targets, but Shikha’s dread notched up as each blue streak missed a red streak. She watched as the final blue streak hit a red streak, but her breath had caught in her throat. She watched ten red streaks hurtling rapidly towards New Delhi.
Towards her.
We are going to die! The dire realization pierced through every cell of her body.
Chapter 41
High above the earth, ten Ghauri missiles dove down into the final leg of their journey. Unemotional and logic-based, the internal computer counted down on the ETA to its destination. It had less than sixty seconds left. The missiles didn’t care how many thousands of casualties they would inflict. They were programmed to just do their jobs.
And the ten missiles were highly efficient at it.
“What?” Shikha couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. The red streaks were very close now. Tanmay was saying something.
“- is ready for deployment.”
Shikha finally looked at him. “What?” she repeated.
“I am deploying the KALI 5000. Let’s see if that works.”
Shikha suddenly realized why Tanmay had been on the phone. He must have talked with the KALI team. The KALI or Kilo Ampere Linear Injector was an experimental High Power Pulsed Electron Accelerator weapon that could send a powerful pulse against enemy aircraft or missiles. It was still in beta mode and hadn’t been fully tested. She looked at the incoming red streaks. They had nothing to lose.
“Do it.”
Tanmay pressed a few keys on his keyboard and looked up at the LCD screen. “KALI 5000 is live.”
A few kilometres away, the KALI 5000 manufactured by the DRDO and the BARC tracked the ten missiles. It emitted an invisible yet powerful burst of gigawatts of electron pulses on the incoming Ghauri missiles. The pulses seared through the missile control boards and fried the onboard circuits. With the onboard computer dead, the missiles were rendered useless. The missiles turned into duds and fell harmlessly to the ground.
Shikha looked at the screen and her jaw dropped. The red streaks were all gone. The KALI 5000 had done its job killing all the incoming missiles in one go.
New Delhi was safe.
A barrage of gunfire followed Armaan as he raced for cover behind the facility. He ducked down behind a wall and the bullets whizzed past him. Armaan waited for the terrorist to foolishly expend all his bullets. When the gunfire stopped Armaan scoped his target from behind the building and fired a single shot hitting the man square in the head.
“Three, I need supporting fire. Two and I are going to be surrounded in minutes.”
“I am almost out of ammo, One.” Roshan replied. “I am trying to conserve my rounds. I will fire only if I am sure of a hit. Sorry.”
“No apologies needed,” Armaan replied. He knew that only the Vidhwansak could reach at the distance they were at, effectively ruling out the conventional rifle that Hitesh had. “I am also in the same situation. I have only the ammo that is currently loaded in the rifle, nothing more. Same for Baldev.”
After watching the missiles leave their pads, Armaan had been seized with a fit of fury. He couldn’t get inside the Missile Control Room, but he could ensure that the monsters inside wouldn’t survive. He went to Level 3 and lined up a set of booby-traps using a string connected to grenade pins in front of the door. The moment the terrorists opened the biometric door, the pins would be pulled leading to their deaths. Once the trap was set, Baldev and Armaan used the lift to go down to Level 6 to ensure that the kill switches for the Babur-3 missiles were still activated and not tampered with.
The kill switches were undisturbed. It appeared that with the terrorists attacking the facility, Tahir hadn’t got any time to investigate and fix the sabotage done on the missiles. They were about to leave the floor, when they heard three grenade explosions one after the other. Armaan laughed with a sadistic satisfaction. The terrorists in the Missile Control Room had died. They took the elevator to Level 3 and Armaan looked at the open door to the Control Room blocked by the dead bodies of the geek and two other terrorists. He nodded to himself. Justice had been served.
Suddenly gunfire erupted around him. Around half a dozen terrorists had converged on the floor hearing the grenade explosions. They had to escape. With gunfire blazing on their heels, they quickly raced up the stairs to the facility entrance on Level 2.
Once out in the open, a couple of terrorists at the gate detected them and fired. Armaan and Baldev took refuge behind the facility building, their escape route to the main gate blocked by terrorists. More terrorists spilled out from the facility entrance. Baldev and Armaan popped one terrorist each forcing the others to crouch behind cover.
But this couldn’t go on for long. As far as he could see, they had killed around six terrorists in the past few minutes which meant that there were around a dozen terrorists left.
“Spread around the building,” he saw one terrorist shout. Immediately the terrorist fell to the ground shot by a long range rifle.
Roshan. Armaan was grateful for his comrade. Even with the lack of bullets, Roshan was trying to increase their odds of survival. They could yet make out of this one alive.
The thought died in his mind as he saw the terrorists divide in two groups and approach the rear of the building from both sides.
We are going to be outflanked, Armaan realized.
Khost airfield, Khost province, Afghanistan.
Rustom paced back and forth on the wide expanse of the Khost airfield. Located one hundred and fifty kilometres south of Kabul, the Khost airfield was strategically located near the Durand Line, the line that demarcated the border between Afghanistan and Pakistan. Just twenty kilometres separated Rustom from Pakistan and he looked east wondering if the mission was going to be successful.
After a discussion between the Indian R&AW officials and the Afghan NDS, the Afghan government had generously allowed the Indians the use of the airfield for a limited time. Rustom knew that his experience of flying in hostile territories was going to be critical for today’s mission.
Rustom took a slow, deep breath to calm his nerves. He was going into Pakistan for a crazy rescue mission. He had listened to the report on the way to the airfield. The friendlies were surrounded by terrorists. And they were almost out of ammunition.
It was going to be a hot landing.
“Don’t worry.” His boss walked over to him. “General Singh called in. We took some contingency measures. Hopefully you won’t
get much heat.” He pointed at the chopper. “The refuelling is done. The Landing Zone is in Karak, one hundred and fifty kilometres from here. You will fly low and stay under the radar. ETA to LZ is forty minutes.”
Eagle’s voice echoed in Armaan’s ears. “You will be picked up in forty minutes. A chopper is on its way.”
“Forty minutes!” Armaan shouted as he sprinted to the corner of the rear wall of the facility, “We barely have four minutes before these pigs kill us.”
Armaan and Baldev had pinned the terrorists on both sides. They had decided to hold both corners of the rear wall, one at each corner so that the terrorists couldn’t outflank them.
But time and ammo were against them.
Roshan was helping them; picking off the terrorists, one by one but the terrorists seemed to have wised up to the existence of a sniper in the mountains and were now moving forward under shelter. The other terrorists had joined them and it seemed that all of them had come together to avenge the death of their leader.
“Tell that pilot, he will only pick up our dead bodies forty minutes from now.” Armaan yelled.
“… will help. … coming soon…” Armaan could barely hear Eagle over the burst of gunfire.
What good can one pilot do against so many terrorists? Armaan wondered.
“I am out of bullets. One,” Armaan heard Roshan declare.
“Oh boy.” Armaan muttered.
A moment later Baldev announced. “I have only one bullet left.” Armaan heard a shot.
“Target down,” Baldev said, “Now, I have none.”
Armaan saw a terrorist racing across the open towards another cover a few yards away. This is the moment. He quickly scoped on the running target and pulled the trigger only to hear the sickening finality of a metallic click. He had run out of bullets.
“Boys. Even I’m out.”
It would be a fight to the death, Armaan realized. There were only a handful of terrorists left. Armaan reached down to his ankle and realized that his trusty knife wasn’t there. They had come in unarmed to the facility and now Armaan was weaponless and defenceless.
The terrorists were backing up. He wondered how long it would take them to realize that they were out of bullets. A minute at most. Eagle had said that the rescue heli would come in forty minutes. A minute from now, he and Baldev would be dead.
So be it. Armaan told himself.
“We are coming down the mountain to help.” Roshan said.
“Negative, Three.” Armaan ordered, “It will take you ten minutes to reach here. We won’t survive till then. Wait for the heli and rescue yourself.”
“No, I can’t sit still and watch you die.” Armaan heard a trace of emotion in Roshan’s voice. “We are coming down.”
“Negative Three. Stay put. That’s an order. Two dead are better than four dead.”
There was a long pause on the line. Armaan wondered if Roshan was thinking of the Bangladesh incident where he had defied his orders. Finally Roshan said, “Copy that, One. Good luck.”
Armaan peeked around the corner. The terrorists were peering from their shelters more frequently. They were evidently getting restless, but weren’t sure of going ahead to attack. He overheard their disjointed conversation and pieced together that they were deciding to attempt a blitz attack.
Armaan looked at Baldev and gave a hand signal. Baldev ran to an alcove in the middle of the rear wall and crouched there. A moment later, Armaan joined him.
“They will come for us any moment now.” Armaan whispered.
Baldev’s face stiffened. “It will be a fight to the death. No retreat. No surrender.”
“Agreed.” Armaan’s resolve was absolute.
“Boys,” Armaan heard Eagle’s high-pitched voice. “Help is here.”
What? How did the heli get here so quickly? Armaan wondered.
A moment later he heard a massive explosion on either side of him. More explosions rocked the area. The terrorists’ hideouts were being relentlessly pounded. Armaan looked up in the sky to see the silhouette of an ugly looking small plane with no windows, doors or cockpit. Armaan immediately recognized the strangely designed aircraft.
Of course. Ghatak UCAV.
The Unmanned Combat Aerial Vehicle manufactured by DRDO was equipped with the powerful Nag anti-tank missiles specially modified for the drone and renamed as Helina missiles. The Helina missiles screamed down to the ground bombarding the terrorists and pounding them to rubble. The drone circled around the building ensuring that all the terrorists were dead. It made two more passes flying low over the facility and finally flew away.
Baldev watched the skies, his mouth wide-open in shock. “Did I just dream that?”
Armaan laughed and slapped him on the back in exultation.
They had survived.
Chapter 42
“Sir, it was a terrorist attack with no connections to the Pakistani government or their Army.” General Vishwajeet Singh spoke up on the conference bridge.
They had just watched the Ghauri missiles almost destroy New Delhi. When the missiles disintegrated in mid-air, there was a muted celebration. Inamdaar wanted to know who was behind the attack.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s official or not,” Inamdaar boomed. “The attack came from Pakistani soil. The Pakistani establishment, whether they were directly involved, or just innocent bystanders is beside the point. We will use our full military force against them.”
“PM sir,” General Singh said. “There is a way to punish the perpetuators without going into a full-fledged war. Our HUMINT asset has informed me that all the major terrorist leaders came together for the strike on New Delhi. We know their exact location at this very moment. I suggest it’s time we give them a dose of their own medicine. You remember you wanted to strike at the terrorist camps to eliminate the leaders? We were worried about how the Pakistanis would react. Now, we have a way to do this without tipping our hand.”
“Okay,” Inamdaar drawled, “I’m listening.”
“Boys,” General Singh said, “I am really proud of what you have done?”
“Thanks Homebase.” Armaan said. “We are happy to have completed the mission.”
“I have news, Markhor,” the General replied, “Your mission is not completed. You have one more assignment.”
“Sure sir, what do you have in mind?”
“A counterstrike on our enemies. They launched a missile attack on us. It is time we launch one on them.”
Armaan gave a blank stare at Baldev. He wasn’t sure what General Singh was saying. He replied, “What are your orders, sir?”
“Markhor, here’s what you will do…”
Roshan watched the missile launch on the flat panel screen inside the Missile Control Room. He looked at the faces of Armaan, Baldev and Hitesh. They were solemn and determined. It had taken Roshan ten minutes to climb down the mountain to reach the facility along with Hitesh. He had heard the General’s idea of bombing the terrorist hideout on the way down. It would be a fitting response to their terror attack on New Delhi.
The General had the coordinates and Hitesh guided Armaan to initiate the launch sequence. Eagle monitored the resort via satellite. Hitesh had said that the missiles would reach the destination within two minutes.
Shafiq looked at the men around him. They had finally broken through the bolt that he had used to lock himself in the room.
The leaders of Al-Qaeda, TTP and Jamaat-ul-Ahrar stared at him. They had come in to watch him die. He knew that they would try to torture him to extract information out of him, but he chuckled silently as he looked at the blood that still seeped through the hole in his stomach. They wouldn’t have the pleasure of slowly torturing him. He would be dead in a few minutes.
Suddenly, he heard ear-splitting explosions around him. He laughed heartily as he looked at the panic-stricken terrorists. They had no idea what was happening. They looked around each other as they heard missiles screaming all around the place. A moment later, a missil
e pierced through the ceiling into the room.
There was a blinding flash of light and his pain was wiped off in an instant.
Armaan heard Eagle’s voice on the line. “Multiple hits on target confirmed. I am checking if there are any survivors, but the entire area is completely demolished and I can see nothing but smoke and fire. Switching to radar imaging… No movement detected. Confirm area secured and hostiles have been eliminated.”
“Thanks for the confirmation, Eagle,” the General replied, “Good job team. Your mission is now officially over. Eagle has informed me that your pickup will come any minute. Take a break, boys. You have earned it.”
The sound of a chopper broke the silence of the facility. Armaan walked out in the open and saw a dark blue Light Combat Helicopter hovering a few feet above the ground. The pilot waved to them to climb aboard.
“I am Captain Rustom.” He surveyed the damage around the facility. “I was told about a contingency measure, but this is overkill.”
“Overkill is good enough for me.”
As Armaan rested his back on the seat cushion, he realized how tired he was. He looked at his team members and nodded. They had been through a lot, and they had survived. He reached out and hugged his team members.
Armaan pulled on the safety belt as the chopper rose in the air. He looked down at the facility nestled in the lap of the snow-capped mountains. As the helicopter took speed, the facility reduced in the distance, till they passed beyond a mountain and the facility disappeared out of sight.
Epilogue
“I’m very pleased with your prompt action, Mian sa’ab” PM Jagdish Inamdaar spoke to his Pakistani counterpart.”
“I am sorry, my friend,” PM Mian replied, “I don’t understand what you are referring to.”