Assassins

by Mukul Deva

  The more Vishal thought about it, the more the idea of doing something big appealed to him.

  Why not? But not like Binder. He’s a bit of a wimp. I’d like my hits to be spectacular: high-decibel affairs, so people sit up and take notice. The kind the media will rave about for years.

  What had started as a random thought when Verma had approached him on Fatima’s behalf, to join the Special Task Force and help the Binder mission, grew into an obsession with every passing hour. His success at kidnapping, interrogating, and then terminating Goel boosted the idea.

  That’s why he was so turned on by the prospect of meeting Leon.

  I could learn a lot.

  However, he didn’t need a doctorate in logic to understand that when such dangerous men, wanted on every continent, allowed you to see and thus identify them, the implications were seldom good and often fatal. That fear had gnawed at him ever since he had gotten the message from Verma. However, eventually the excitement and his aspirations to be an international and famous gun for hire won the day.

  As instructed by Leon, once outside the apartment in Sarita Vihar, Vishal texted him. He thought he saw the curtain of one of the front windows move, but the movement was so slight he was not sure he hadn’t imagined it.

  Then the door cracked open.

  Vishal felt another pulse of anxiety, as though life was warning him not to enter. He almost succumbed. But his unquenchable thirst for excitement and his aspirations again won the day, propelling him forward.

  Why worry? What’s the worst that can happen?

  Settling his jumpy nerves he pushed open the door and entered.

  Brightly lit, clean but sparsely furnished room. No trace of any personal belongings anywhere. A half-empty half-liter bottle of Coke Zero and the debris of a Subway sandwich littered one end of an otherwise bare dining table. Vishal assimilated the room and analyzed the implications.

  Safe house. Recently acquired.

  Vishal sensed Leon did not live here. He respected the professional precaution. Admiration for the long-haired and unkempt man seated by a coffee table at the far end of the room climbed a notch. Though Vishal was surprised how bulky the man was, almost overweight; he’d expected a lean mean fighting machine. Then he realized most of the bulk appeared to be layers of clothing. Vishal also noticed that Leon’s right hand stayed out of sight. He was certain it held a gun. That was disconcerting, but Vishal had not expected otherwise. He pushed away the spike of fear that jabbed him and forced a smile, trying to play it cool. “Hi.”

  “Hey there. How are you doing, Mr. Vishal? Come right in.” Leon called out. Not even a hint of a smile, though.

  The fact he did not rise to greet him irked Vishal. It made him want to create an impact that would command respect. He was trying to think of something when he spied the chessboard on the coffee table beside Leon. The board was in play. Studying the pieces Vishal noted it was a recently started game.

  “That’s an unusual opening gambit … the Torre Attack? Isn’t it?”

  “You’re familiar with it?” Leon was impressed. “Not many people are.”

  “I try to catch a game whenever I can,” Vishal replied, his ego somewhat appeased. “I love chess. You?”

  “I like it, too.” Leon now smiled. “Fancy a game?”

  “Why not?” Vishal returned his smile. He realized how smoothly Leon was building rapport. Being acknowledged made him feel good. The challenge also was too obvious to ignore. He was determined to beat Leon.

  “Ever tried the Goring Gambit?” Leon asked as they reset the pieces.

  “I don’t much care for it.” Vishal shrugged. “It is not very advantageous if you are playing white.”

  “Depends how you develop the play.” Vishal noticed Leon was watching him closely. “White or black?”

  “White.” Vishal replied immediately.

  “Sure.” Leon swiveled the board around. “Any particular reason why you prefer white?”

  “I like to go first,” Vishal said shortly, brows knitted, his attention now focused on the board. Making up his mind, Vishal played.

  FIFTEEN

  Leon personally preferred black; he liked to make his move only after his opponent had committed himself. Changing stride midway is seldom easy for an attacker and invariably gave Leon the advantage.

  He could not help smiling as he saw Vishal’s opening moves: e4 e5; advancing the King’s pawn two spaces forward.

  So … impatient, eager to commit and a risk taker … had gone for the Goring Gambit, though he had just communicated his belief that it was not the most useful for the player going first.

  Leon filed away these nuggets of information. Experience had taught him that sooner or later they would come in handy; either to control Vishal or to eliminate him, whichever way the cookie crumbled.

  Interesting bloke.

  Leon took up the gambit by responding with an Nf3, moving out the King’s Knight; risky, but he wanted to push Vishal and see how he would respond. And, though he wanted to focus on the game, it struck him that Vishal’s perspective and his experience as a cop could provide valuable insights into how Indian security would protect both targets.

  I could also use him to ascertain other options for launching my attack.

  Lost in thought, Leon was taken by surprise when Vishal suddenly changed tack. He realized Vishal had lulled him. It was done expertly, and suddenly the situation developing on the board had become far more dangerous than Leon had supposed. Realizing he could lose …

  That is so not happening.

  Leon’s innate competitiveness asserted itself.

  Not on my watch.

  He wasn’t sure what had happened or when, but he sensed from Vishal’s demeanour it was no longer just a game. More a joust for psychological dominance.

  Suddenly Leon felt alive again after a very long time.

  Then Vishal caught his eye; the cop was leaning over the board, his stance aggressive, deep in concentration, and he also seemed to be brimming with joie de vivre. Leon was surprised how closely Vishal’s feelings seemed to mirror his.

  Is that what I am like?

  The thought discomfited Leon. It had been years since he’d paid attention to such things. To himself.

  Why? What am I scared of finding?

  Leon did not like the direction his thoughts were progressing in. But was unable to stop them.

  Who am I?

  Vishal moved again.

  And Leon realized he would lose if he didn’t respond strongly and smartly.

  Pushing away all distraction, Leon got down to playing both the games—the one on the board and the one being fought in their minds.

  SIXTEEN

  Vishal forced a smile as Leon checkmated him. “Damn!” He felt like kicking himself. “I almost had you.”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Leon’s expression was noncommittal. “I think you were way too focused on my queen and bishop.”

  “I didn’t realize the knight was the real threat till it was too late,” Vishal admitted grudgingly. “You’re good.”

  “Chess is fascinating. A lot like life.” He was still speaking softly, but Vishal sensed the change; Leon had become businesslike. His next words confirmed that. “And also what we are going to do. No?” Leon didn’t wait for an answer. “It is seldom the obvious threat that one should worry about.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” Vishal responded. “Do you mind if I ask, which target are you planning to take out?”

  “No, I don’t mind.” But, much to Vishal’s irritation, Leon didn’t answer. Instead he countered with “If I gave you the option, which target would you pick and how would you bring it down?”

  Vishal guessed he was being tested. “I have been thinking about that.” He drew out a notebook and pen from his jacket pocket. “Let’s take them one at a time. Masharrat first.” Flipping open to a blank page, he began to plot. “The general arrives by private jet the evening before his talk. He lands
at the VIP terminal of Palam airport. Rather appropriate, given he is a Paki.” Vishal looked up expectantly.

  Leon looked puzzled. “I didn’t get that. Why is it appropriate?”

  “It’s a joke. Masharrat landing at the VIP terminal, I mean.” Vishal grinned. “Since we often refer to those buggers as Vile Ignorant Pakis.”

  “Right. I get it.” Leon looked amused. “Please go on.”

  “The jet is owned by a holding company registered in Ras Al Khaimah, which is allegedly owned by a gangster known to have worked closely with the general in making the nuke-for-missile-technology deal with the North Koreans.” Vishal flipped open his iPhone and checked some notes. “Masharrat’s ETA is 1745 hours on 26 December. He is taken to the US embassy for a dinner being hosted by the American ambassador and then spends the night at his hotel, the Hyatt Regency. The next morning he reaches the Siri Fort auditorium by 0900 hours, has breakfast with a select group of delegates, addresses the keynote session post lunch, returns to the airport, and flies back to Dubai.”

  “So?”

  Vishal was unable to read anything from Leon’s expression. He continued. “So, we can bring down the jet provided we have access to a Stinger or a similar surface-to-air missile.” Leon responded with a headshake. “Right. I figured as much. We can also strike at the Palam airport. However, this is heavily guarded by the Indian Air Force and will require a huge task force unless we are able to subvert a couple of key people in the air force. Very difficult, but given time, doable. However, in either case, it is unlikely the hit team will get away alive.”

  All Vishal got was an inscrutable nod from Leon. The lack of response irritated Vishal.

  “We could also take Masharrat out during the move from the airport to the embassy, from there to the hotel, or the next morning from the hotel to Siri Fort, or from there to the airport. He will be in a bulletproof limo, escorted by the usual complement of eight security vehicles, including an ambulance and electronics vehicle. The security has been put in place by the conference organizers, using elements of Delhi Police and a private security agency. In addition, the general is bringing along six of his own men. They are keeping route info secret and security is well-planned and heavy. However, it is doable and getting away would be relatively easy.”

  By now, Leon’s lack of response was agitating Vishal but he forced himself to stay calm.

  “Lastly, of course, would be to strike at the conference venue itself, the Siri Fort auditorium. This also is well protected, especially considering he is not the only VIP present. However, given that it’s a paid event and anyone can buy their way in, this venue could provide several opportunities.” Vishal knew he had given a succinct analysis. He did not, however, get a chance to relish it.

  “So,” Leon asked piercingly. “What would you do, where, and with what weapon?”

  Vishal was glad he had given this thought. He answered decisively, “I’d give it a go at the summit, probably when Masharrat is mingling with people.”

  “Weapon?”

  “I need to think that through.” Vishal faltered; he had tried hard, but been unable to come up with a definite action plan. “Offhand, a sniper rifle might be best.”

  “Sounds good.” Again, Leon’s bland smile irked Vishal.

  “There are many possibilities,” he added aggressively. “A lot would depend on how long I have been planning this and the budget available, of course.”

  SEVENTEEN

  Leon gave a broad smile, reverting to the bluff American persona effortlessly. “But of course. That’s a brilliant analysis, Vishal.” The germ of an idea had taken root. He evaluated it rapidly.

  It would bring down the risk to me considerably and enhance my chances of success.

  Deciding to develop it and test Vishal’s value to the plan, he asked, “And Prime Minister Zardosi? What’s your take on him?”

  Vishal ran through Zardosi’s routine, and as before, analyzed the pros and cons. Again, a concise and thorough analysis.

  Leon could see Vishal was feeling good about himself. He decided to bring him down a notch.

  “Would you help me understand why you have given so much thought to this?” His bonhomie had evaporated; now there was an edge in Leon’s tone.

  EIGHTEEN

  Vishal picked up the change in tone instantly. That and the sudden change in topic discomfited him; he was certain he did not want Leon to find out about his aspirations of joining this profession.

  No one likes competition.

  Refusing to be daunted, he pushed back gamely. “That’s obvious. As part of the task force deployed to stop you, that’s what I am supposed to be doing. Aren’t I?”

  “Is that all?”

  “What else could it be?” Vishal countered.

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  Leon’s unblinking gaze was unsettling. Perhaps that was why Vishal blurted it out. “Well, I’ve often wondered what it would be like, to do the work you do.”

  “You did, did you?” To his surprise, Leon laughed. “I thought as much.”

  Lulled by the deviousness of the man across the chessboard, Vishal relaxed. “Yes. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” He admitted, now not so sheepish. “Tell me, what is it like?”

  Ignoring that, Leon queried, “Let us assume you had to execute this mission. What would you do?”

  This time Vishal deliberated longer, organizing his thoughts before he spoke. “If I were you, I would plan to strike both targets simultaneously. I’d lead the primary strike personally and let another team handle the second target. However, I would let the second team strike moments before I did.”

  “Why?” Vishal sensed Leon already knew the answer and was still testing him.

  “A diversion is useful only if it draws attention away from the primary attack,” Vishal retorted, now irritated by Leon’s supercilious attitude. “But I would not treat it purely as a diversionary attack, because I think it is possible to bring down both targets.”

  “That’s impressive. Very impressive.” The sudden warmth in Leon’s tone surprised Vishal; he didn’t realize how expertly Leon was keeping him off-balance. “I like the way you think, Vishal. You have a good head on your shoulders. And I was wondering whether you’d like to play a bigger role in this mission?”

  “You mean as a diversion?” Vishal bristled.

  “Come on, Vishal.” Leon gave him a disarming smile. “We are talking as equals here. You already know I have the mandate for both targets, and I like your idea of taking out both simultaneously.”

  Vishal’s gut reaction was to walk away; instinct warned him it would be dumb to trust Binder. But greed and his personal aspirations weighed in; Vishal badly wanted to believe Leon needed him. “In that case I’d be delighted.” He replied. “What would you like me to do?” Vishal was embarrassed by his eager schoolboy tone. To compensate for that he added, “Assuming I will be adequately paid, of course.”

  “Of course.” Leon’s smile made Vishal uncomfortable; he couldn’t help feeling that he had walked into a trap. “You’ve given me a lot of fresh ideas, Vishal. Give me a little time to think things through and we can work out the money then.”

  “You certainly are a careful man.” Vishal forced a laugh, still trying to get rid of his uneasiness. He was dying to know what Leon wanted him to do and how much he was planning to pay, but thought it tactically unwise to push any more.

  “Isn’t that nice?” Leon commented evenly. “Let me call you. Soon.” His tone communicated the meeting was over.

  Vishal exited the way he had entered, with mixed feelings: excited at the prospect of new challenges, yet worried for his safety and happy to be out of the room.

  There was something about Leon he had not been able to put a finger on. And that unsettled him. As did the prospect of a closer working relationship with Leon, thrilling though it was. Vishal was aware proximity to such men could have fatal repercussions. But he so wanted to walk down this road th
at he could not bring himself to ignore the opportunity.

  NINETEEN

  Leon was thrilled that, as thorough as it was, Vishal’s analysis of the targets had not unearthed his attack plan. He was now even more confident he would succeed.

  However, the ideas ignited by Vishal had struck a chord. A diversion could reduce his risk greatly and increase the chances of success. Even better, he could see it coming together without much additional effort and wanted to wrap his head around it while their discussion was still fresh.

  I should have thought of this myself. Leon massaged his face tiredly. I’m getting old … too old for this crap.

  And it had been a long day. Coming as it did in the wake of the stressful encounter with Ri Yong and the eleven-hour flight from Seoul, he was feeling drained. Leon knew he should return to the Jorbagh apartment and get some rest; the coming days would be no less taxing. But the urge to capture and think through the new idea thrown up by Vishal proved irresistible.

  He began to make notes, working out the finer details of how both targets could be attacked simultaneously. The only difference was that his diversionary attack would be only that, not a parallel attempt to take out both targets, as Vishal had suggested.

  But that’s for me to know and him to figure out.

  Despite his tiredness, Leon grinned.

  By the time he does, it will be too late.

  Then the grin faded.

  Vishal is a devious one. Must watch my back.

  And will it be sufficient to decoy Ravinder? Underestimating him would be a mistake; the cloth head is as sharp as they come.

  Leon did not realize when exhaustion overtook him. He nodded off.

  TWENTY