by Mainak Dhar
`Do you think they’ll use nukes?’
Chauhan thought about that one for what seemed to be a very long time.
`I hope not. Let’s just pray that they do not.’
Chauhan and his men knew that their chances of surviving a nuclear strike were high, unless their unit happened to be directly in the blast area. The Arjun tanks could be sealed off against radiation and biological weapons.
But they also knew that their families would have no such protection.
***
Shamsher was personally leading the assault on Tariq’s barracks. He had already got word of the unsuccessful raid at Illahi’s house, and his best guess was that Illahi would be holed up with Tariq.
He was sitting in an APC, with nearly two hundred troops around him. Tariq’s barracks were heavily fortified and guarded by an estimated fifty SSG men. Shamsher knew that if it came down to a fight, it would be a tough one.
It was not yet dawn, and the soldiers moved silently under the cover of darkness. The four APCs were kept well back, so that their noise would not alert the defenders. Tariq took a loudspeaker and approached the building. He was now only about fifty yards from the main gate. His men were all hidden behind nearby bushes and cars. He stopped when he judged the distance to be close enough for the SSG men to hear him. Then he began speaking through the loudspeaker. The sudden noise shattered the quiet of the morning and the SSG men at the gate rushed out, guns in hand. Lights began switching on in the building and in nearby houses.
`I am Shamsher Ahmed, Chief of Army Staff. I order you to stand down and let my men enter your building. You are not at fault-no harm will come to you. We are interested in arresting Tariq-for carrying out antinational activities.’
The two SSG men closest to him seemed to waver, when a shot rang out.
Tariq had been watching from his second floor room, and he knew he was trapped. He had been briefed by Illahi on the plan, and was planning to join Illahi by noon.
As soon as Shamsher began speaking, Tariq loaded his Uzi and took position. He realized the only way for him to escape would be to create a diversion. That this would mean sacrificing the lives of his soldiers who knew nothing of his plan never crossed his mind.
The bullets grazed Shamsher’s right shoulder and the big soldier fell down, more out of an old soldier’s instinct to find cover than from the impact of the shots. He got up to tell his men to hold their fire, but by then, it was too late.
A young Captain, standing just a few feet behind him, saw his commanding officer go down under enemy fire. Enraged at this act of treachery, he aimed and fired his full magazine at the window from which the gunfire seemed to have come.
Tariq ducked and ran out of the room as the window he had fired from disintegrated. He paused briefly to consider his options. He knew that he had been a bit callous-ideally he should have destroyed the whole compound to remove any traces of Illahi’s plan. But now, the best he could hope for was to get out alive. Staying and making a stand would be suicide.
Shamsher looked on in horror as his men opened up on Tariq’s barracks with a fury. Two shoulder-launched rockets destroyed the main guard bunker as two M-113s approached the main gate, dousing the building with machine gun fire. There was heavy counter fire, and he saw four men fall as they emerged from the APCs. The Paracommandos had a more then four to one numerical edge and despite losses, soon entered the main compound.
Shamsher was about to give an order to cease fire, when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a jeep leaving the compound. Looking at the solitary bulky figure in the jeep, he did not need to be told who that would be. The jeep broke through the smaller secondary gate and sped by, running over a soldier in the process.
Shamsher took out his pistol and took careful aim. The vehicle was twenty meters away now, and fast receding. In his youth, Shamsher had been an ace marksman, and had represented Pakistan in the Asian Games. He fired six carefully aimed shots at the escaping jeep.
Tariq had thought he was free when the first bullet struck him in his right shoulder. He slumped forward under the impact of the shot as the other bullets struck home. Four hit the windscreen, and one hit him in his back. The jeep careened out of control and bounced off the sidewalk, banging into a parked vehicle, before it burst into flames.
Shamsher winced as the jeep exploded in a huge explosion. He felt little remorse at Tariq’s death, but he knew the monster had caused many of the young men inside to die a futile death. He immediately ordered his men to cease firing. The firing from inside the building stopped within seconds. The remaining SSG men came out, their hands over their heads. Shamsher went over to their commanding officer, a tall and strapping Lieutenant.
He glanced at the name badge and said, `Lieutenant Khalid. You and your men have done nothing wrong. It is a misfortune that some lives were lost. We have nothing against you-you need not behave as if you are prisoners.’
The young man, with an obvious look of relief on his face, put his hands down and saluted smartly.
`Okay, now take me where Illahi is. He wasn’t in the jeep with Tariq.’
There was a genuine look of surprise on the young officer’s face.
`Sir, the Prime Minister is no longer here. He had come several hours ago, and left with a small briefcase.’
He had no sooner finished his sentence, than Shamsher was running towards the building. He looked in four rooms and then came upon what he was looking for-a thick wooden door with the sign `Restricted Entry’ embossed on it.
He did not wait to ask for a key. He rocked back and kicked hard. The door swung open, its hinges shattered. Shamsher rushed in. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the large safe in the corner of the room.
The safe was wide open, and was empty.
He went outside and called Karim.
***
Tension hung over the room like a malevolent cloud. Karim was sitting in a corner, with a glum expression on his face. Shamsher was pacing the room, while Arif sat at the desk, making drinks for the three men.
Karim broke the awkward silence.
`Guys, things are going all wrong. We have no clue where Illahi is. He’s probably got the suitcase with the codes, and that’s not the end of it.’
Shamsher had just joined the other two men and did not know what they had discovered.
`Karim, what do you mean?’
He turned around to face Arif as he answered for Karim.
`Well, one of the mobile launchers is untraceable, as is a single one kiloton warhead from Kahuta. I assume that Illahi has taken the briefcase, but the warhead it seems was removed at least four days ago. I would guess Illahi already had a plan, and we have probably been too late.’
`What exactly does this mean for us, and for the possibility of a nuclear strike?’ Arif had just brought Karim and Shamsher their drinks. Unlike the Service Chiefs, he was not as cued into the intricacies of Pakistan’s nuclear command structure.
Karim sipped his lemonade-he did not want to have anything stronger cloud his thinking, and turned to answer his friend.
`Arif, I can think of several scenarios. The mobile launcher could be anywhere-but it’s targeting system can be activated only from the mobile launch control center-the briefcase which Illahi is carrying, or from the main control center in Tariq’s HQ-which we now have control over. Now, as to the single warhead-it cannot be air delivered, no fighter will be loaded with any special ordinance without my approval. We have taken stock of all missiles, so it’s not going to be loaded there either. So, my guess is that it’s been sent somewhere to be detonated by the carrier or by Illahi through the suitcase.’
`Can’t we override any signals that Illahi gives from the main center?’
Shamsher sat down. He took a large gulp of his whiskey before answering.
`No. Illahi had ensured that his system could override any other. The bastard always was a shrewd dog.’
`So shouldn’t we warn the Indians? If Illahi does anything
stupid and it triggers off a nuclear exchange, we would really have achieved nothing.’
Karim thought it over for a while.
`Arif, I think the first thing we should do is to form a provisional government and announce as soon as possible that we are accepting the Indian cease-fire. I don’t know whether we should let them know about what’s happening. It would a terrible sign of weakness, and they might just exploit it. Let’s begin work on getting through the formalities. I don’t want this to be another military coup. We are doing this because it’s in the interest of the nation, and will step aside for democratic elections as soon as things stabilize. In the meanwhile, let’s concentrate our resources on finding Illahi and ending this madness.’
`My guess is that he’s doing all this under pressure from the Emir. The snake Abdul’s also missing. I would guess he’d trigger some sort of nuclear exchange and try and get away for a while. If things turn out okay, he’ll emerge as some kind of hero. And if they don’t, he’ll go into hiding with the Emir.’ Arif thought it over. Shamsher’s analysis certainly made a lot of sense.
`Well, the only way he can get out in any reasonable time is by air. Let’s put out orders to all airfields to notify us of any unauthorized flights to Saudi.’
`Done.’
Arif got up to leave. He gulped down his tea and gathered his things. `I just got an idea. Since he left not more than a few hours ago, chances are he’ll try and fly out of Islamabad, if he does fly that is. I’ll go to the airport and check it out. He may just be going aboard a commercial flight. He’s smart enough to know that we’ll clamp down on all the military flights.’
***
It was going to another one of those early morning meetings, thought Joshi, silently groaning. The acceptance of the Indian cease-fire offer by the new `Provisional Government of Pakistan’ had come as a bolt from the blue just an hour ago. And he knew everyone would be looking to him for answers. Expectations had been soaring with the precise and accurate intelligence the Patriot had been providing. But now, Joshi had his doubts on just how much the Patriot could help him. He would in all likelihood not have too much access to what was actually going on. If his last transcript was anything to go by, things were not going to be easy. He entered the room to see everyone else present.
Khosla was sipping his customary early morning cup of tea. His wound had fully recovered now, and the news of the Pakistani acceptance had cheered him up considerably.
`So, Joshi. Don’t look so glum today. Looks like it’s all over.’
Joshi hated being the harbinger of bad news all the time. But he mused, perhaps that’s what his job was.
`I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Sir. It looks like some sort of coup has taken place, probably led by some senior military officers.’
`And they’re calling off this damn war. So what’s the bad news?’, Randhawa completed the sentence for Joshi. He was clearly relieved that his men would not get caught up in house to house fighting in Lahore.
`General, please let me finish.’
Randhawa and Joshi were close friends, and using the formal title was the closest Joshi could come to rebuking his old friend.
`Sir, I’ve got information that the Pakistanis are clamping down on all military flights. We have unconfirmed reports that they’re going mad searching through all cargo in airports.’
`So what do you make of it?’
`I have a bad feeling Illahi has gotten away. Now add to that this transmission from the Patriot that I just got. It’s unusual to say the least. He was probably in a hurry, his message is slightly cryptic.’
`What does it say, Joshi?’
`I’ll read it out.’
` Possible warheads missing stop.’
`So Sir, if I am to interpret this correctly, there is still a nuclear threat. It seems Illahi has got control of at least one weapon, and could well use it.’
There were audible murmurs in the room, which Khosla silenced as he spoke.
`So, we may face a nuclear attack, but the Pakistani government as such would not have authorized it. So, how do we react?’
`We nuke them right back to the stone age.’ Randhawa was known for his hard-line views on nuclear weapons. He had really accelerated the induction of tactical weapons into the Army in the early years of the 2000s.
Khosla spoke sharply.
`Come on, Randhawa. Let’s think this through. If they nuke Delhi or Mumbai, I can see some merit in a large retaliation. But what if they just hit our forces-let’s say the XIIth Corps near Lahore? What do we do then?’
Ram Prasad, who had but a rudimentary understanding of the subject, thought he had it all figured out.
`Vivek, they cannot hit our forces so close to the border. They’ll suffer from the radioactive fallout as well, right?’
`Not necessarily.’
Everyone turned to look at Sen. Sen was widely regarded as the resident expert on nuclear weapons.
`A battlefield target such as a concentration of troops would be hit by a smallish warhead-let’s say a two or five kiloton one. Now if I wanted to minimize the fallout, I would use the weapon as an air burst, that is, it would explode above the ground, at a height of 2000 to 5000 feet. In such a scenario, there is no fallout, and opposing forces can walk through safely in hours. An aircraft or a missile would deliver these.’
Prasad began to look slightly pale, as Khosla picked up the thread.
`Look, Illahi could not have disappeared with the whole Pakistani arsenal. He, or his men, probably has control over a few warheads at best. Now, how would they deliver them, and how can we defend against them?’
`Well, there are really two options given the Pakistani arsenal-air delivery by an F-16 or possibly an A-5 or delivery by one of their missiles. Air delivery is always risky, due to the chance that the carrier aircraft will be shot down. And if he only has a couple of warheads to play around with, I would rule it out, especially given the kind of air superiority we have.’
`Moreover, Sen, if a new government has taken over, chances are that F-16s will not be taking off loaded with nukes without their knowing about it.’
`Correct, Sir. Now that would hold for missiles as well, so the only logical alternative is that he may have one of their mobile launchers. That would explain why the Pakis are so hassled.’
Khosla turned to his Intelligence Chief, `Joshi, your man’s really been stingy with the details this time.’
`I know, Sir. He must have been really rushed.’
Raman spoke up for the first time this morning.
`Or he’s been compromised. All this could be a Pakistani ploy to confuse us as to their real intentions.’
Everyone started at this statement by the Naval Chief, and several people began speaking at once. Utter pandemonium reigned for a few minutes, before Joshi nearly shouted to get things under control.
`I do not believe that he has been compromised.’
`Joshi, how can we be sure?’
Joshi was surprised to see that even Khosla was having doubts.
`Sir, I know this man, He has been working for us, putting his life on the line for us, for almost two decades now. He would commit suicide before being compromised.’
`Joshi, I know how you have great faith in this guy., but we can’t rule out the possibility that the Pakis have caught on to him.’
`Sir, we can smoke that out. We run handwriting analyses every time a message comes in. Its a perfect match with his earlier messages.’
`Joshi, the Pakis could have tortured him and made him write anything they wanted.’
`Sir, there we are getting subjective. There’s really no way we can say anything-its one man’s hypothesis versus another’s.’
Khosla sighed and scribbled something on the pad in front of him.
`And we don’t have time to sit and debate. We need to act now one way or the other.’
Joshi began speaking. Here goes nothing. Probably lose my bloody job if I’m wrong.
`Sir, in my judgment, we should treat this communication as genuine. I don’t think anyone in this room really knows the guy we’re dealing with. I’ll give you some details and let you judge. Sir, you know who he is, but even you don’t know the full story. I’ll of course not reveal his identity, but will give you all some background on this man we call the Patriot.’
He took a sip from the glass in front of him. The tension of the morning was telling on him, and beads of perspiration had broken out on his forehead. He gently dabbed at it with his handkerchief and continued.
There was rapt silence in the room as he spoke.
`Over twenty years ago, in the eighties, when I was a relatively junior officer in the IB, I was handling the Kashmir desk. During one of the many massacres that marked the beginning of full-blown militancy, terrorists had wiped out a Hindu family in the valley. There was only one survivor-a young teenage boy. A that time we were training some Kashmiri youth and infiltrating them into PoK to get wind of what the Pakis were up to. Some made it back, many did not. Now this particular young man was quite exceptional. Unlike most of the guys we used to send across, his family was fairly well off, and he was a brilliant student. My boss had a brilliant idea-why not make him something much bigger. We made the proposal, we explained all the risks, all he would have to give up. And he agreed-he reasoned he had nothing or no one left anyway, and if he could do anything to avenge what had happened to his family, it would be worth it. So we put him through training for a year, got him converted to Islam and sent him in.’
`I will not go into specifics, but he rose fast in the Pakistani government and has never failed us so far-he gave us a week’s advance warning of Ilahi’s coup, and in the current crisis, he has been invaluable.’
`Now I’ve not met him ever since he crossed over, but I know the man-he would not double cross us, no matter how much pressure they put on him. I say we go with what he says.’
When nobody spoke, Khosla let his feelings be known.
`Let’s go with it. But why has the Pakistani government not told us anything?’
`Sir, they would probably think that this would be a big sign of weakness. If we think they’re not in control, they may fear that we would really get on the offensive.’