Assassins

by Mukul Deva

  His immediate concern was not the investigation of Goel’s kidnapping and murder; common sense told him the hunt for Binder and stopping the assassinations would be everyone’s first priority. However, though it was not the first time he’d killed a man, it was definitely the first time he’d tortured anyone and killed in cold blood, and his anxiety level was high.

  Vishal was parking when he noticed an unfamiliar black BMW 750Li at the end of the lot and guessed it was Ravinder’s.

  Our new chief travels in style.

  His lips pursed enviously. The high-end Bimmer was the kind of car he coveted.

  Soon.

  He promised himself.

  No more shitty hatchbacks.

  That made him feel better. Then he spotted Philip Cherian’s silver Fiat Linea, parked on the other side of the Bimmer. His smile vanished.

  That ass-licker must be trying to weasel his way into Ravinder’s good books right from the get-go.

  Dismissing Philip, he turned his thoughts back to Ravinder.

  Is Gill really that good?

  Though loath to admit it, Vishal was apprehensive about Ravinder. Their new commander had been the topic of discussion at the STF since they had been informed Ravinder was taking charge. Like the others, Vishal, too, had read up on Ravinder; and there was no denying he had one heck of a record, barring the disastrous Israeli-Palestinian Peace Summit during his final stint as chief of the Indian Anti-Terrorist Task Force.

  “Don’t make the mistake of underestimating Ravinder Gill.” He remembered Leon’s warning of the previous night. “He’s very quick on the uptake and doesn’t miss a thing.”

  “Sounds as though you know him well.” Vishal had not missed the familiarity with which Leon had spoken.

  Ignoring that, as he did most of Vishal’s questions, Leon had countered, “You’d better know him, too. The faster the better.”

  Despite this, or perhaps because of this, a thrill shot through Vishal. Living on the edge, where he could smell the danger, taste it, almost touch it, made him feel alive. Riding high on that, he pushed open the office door.

  FOUR

  Ravinder turned as Philip Cherian, the task force second-in-command, tapped his arm. “And this, sir, is Vishal Bhardwaj.”

  Ravinder took in the tall, dark, and lean man who had entered; Vishal carried himself well and was sharply dressed, in navy trousers and a sky-blue shirt, topped with a deep blue corduroy blazer.

  He doesn’t much look like the photo in his file.

  Perhaps because that had been in uniform.

  Ravinder noticed Vishal’s scrutiny as they shook.

  Wary. The usual apprehension of meeting a new boss? Or something else?

  Ravinder realized Kurup’s warning about a mole was making him inordinately suspicious.

  Not good. I’ll never get them all on the same page with such an attitude.

  Reminding himself to relax, he smiled. “Good to meet you, Vishal.”

  “Good to have you on board, sir.” Vishal’s grip was firm and his return smile formal. “Welcome to the Special Task Force.”

  “I believe you were also with the Anti-Terrorist Task Force.” Ravinder wanted to let them know he’d done his homework.

  “That’s right, sir.” He seemed jovial enough to Ravinder, though he could sense some strain between Philip and Vishal. “Almost seven years, but I was based in Hyderabad till the NIA director mobilized me for this task force.”

  “Ah, that’s possibly why we never met.”

  The door opened again, short-circuiting their conversation. A woman entered: mid-thirties, about five and a half feet, sparse frame. Her startlingly fair complexion contrasted with her staid gray kameez, black salwar, dupatta, and thigh-high sweater. The indifferently tailored dress was worn like a military uniform. Her solemn, humorless demeanor gave impetus to that impression.

  “Sir, this is Saina Khan.” Cherian beckoned her forward. “She’s from Delhi Police. Very experienced investigator and our primary liaison with the local police.”

  Ravinder sensed Cherian respected her ability but did not much like her; the enthusiasm in his tone was not mirrored by his noncommittal expression.

  “Good morning, sir.” Saina stiffened to attention a few feet away. Polite but unsmiling. Making it clear she respected her space. Barring a cursory nod, she acknowledged neither Philip nor Vishal.

  Ravinder had no idea how effective she was at networking with and influencing the local police, but it seemed obvious Saina made no effort to do so with the rest of the team.

  “All well with her, Philip?” he asked in an undertone when Saina had moved—more like marched—off to her cubicle at the far end.

  “Yes, why?”

  “Just wondering … she seems very quiet.”

  “She’s always quiet.” Philip gave a brief smile. “Keeps to herself, but she’s very competent. Don’t worry about her, sir.”

  “Saina is Saina.” Vishal chipped in from behind; Ravinder had not realized he’d been listening in. He noticed the look Vishal was giving Saina; it wasn’t pleasant.

  Why the bad blood between them? Ravinder made a mental note to find out.

  The door blew open yet again and another woman trooped in; she was also in her mid-thirties and about the same height, but in marked contrast to Saina, she had a very pleasant demeanor and a lot of energy. She had in tow a tall, well-built, blue-eyed Caucasian man with close-cropped blond hair and a bewildered look.

  “Hey, guys! He was wandering around looking for our office.” The newcomer called out cheerfully. “This is Chance Spillman from MI6.” Then she noticed Ravinder and stiffened to attention. “Good morning, sir, I’m Archana Singh.”

  As Ravinder returned her salute he noticed the change in Vishal and Philip. Both had straightened up. Vishal ran an unconscious hand over his hair. One look at the pert, smiling Archana, with shoulder-length hair framing a decidedly lovely face, made it easy to see why. Her brown business suit set off by a beige top was formal enough, but showcased a well-endowed and well-maintained figure. However, it was the warm, captivating smile that set her apart.

  “Archana is from NIA’s Cyber Cell. She handles our communication, electronic intelligence, and cyber needs.” Philip’s attention, like Vishal’s, was on Archana. “She is a whiz with computers.”

  Though she reined it in really fast, Ravinder also noticed the look Saina threw at Archana; it was full of contempt. On her part, Archana too avoided eye contact with Saina. Again, Ravinder wondered whether it was just a woman-to-woman thing, or if the two ladies had any history together.

  Damn! Ravinder’s heart sank; he could see clearly that the people arrayed around him were anything but a team, still in the storming phase. This is what I have to find Leon and bring him down. Crap! It was a shitty feeling.

  Had he had time, Ravinder would have preferred to bring in a new team of people he knew and trusted. Alas! Ravinder’s anxiety hiked north several notches.

  By now Chance had shaken hands with the others and come up to him. He looked a bit off-kilter. Ravinder felt a twinge of awkwardness too; he liked the man, but couldn’t forget that a few weeks ago Ruby had tried to kill him.

  How does one greet a man who has been shot at by his daughter? And who has shot back at her!

  “Good morning, Mr. Gill,” Chance said politely. “How’s it going for you?”

  “As well as it could, Chance.” Ravinder smiled, extending his hand. “How have you been doing?” Ravinder tapped his collarbone lightly; that’s where Ruby’s bullet had struck Chance. “The wound better?”

  “Almost good as new, thank you.”

  “You two know each other?” Vishal seemed surprised.

  Ravinder exchanged a quick glance with Chance. Both smiled. And just like that the awkwardness between them dissipated. Surprisingly, with that lightness, Ravinder felt his confidence climb.

  “Yes, we do,” Ravinder replied. Vishal was obviously expecting more, but Ravinder refrain
ed from further comment. Instead he said, “Now that we’re all here, let’s get cracking on the case.” When he saw the others nod, he added, “What does one do for tea around here?”

  “One rings the bell.” With a smile Archana did just that. Moments later a huge, familiar man, with an even bigger grin, hove into view.

  “Gyan? You?” Ravinder was delighted; ignoring Gyan’s salute he went closer and shook hands. Gyan had served as his office runner for many years. Though lacking Einstein’s mental agility, Gyan was a solid man to have in one’s corner and was devoted to Ravinder.

  “I asked to be sent here when I learnt you’re back, sir.” Gyan’s gentle voice was at stark variance with his Hulk-like proportions.

  “How’s your son doing?” Ravinder had ensured Gyan was given relatively light assignments when his son was diagnosed with cancer a couple of years ago.

  “By God’s grace he is responding well to the treatment, sir.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  FIVE

  Philip Cherian watched the interplay between Ravinder and Gyan; one can tell a lot about a man from the way he interacts with his subordinates, and how they respond to him. So far Philip liked what he saw.

  This is what we need.

  Like Goel, the previous STF chief, Philip was a Bomb Disposal Squad veteran. They had also served together in the NIA for five years. Goel’s death and the horrid manner of it had left him with a burning desire to ensure the new STF succeeded; at least his friend wouldn’t have died in vain.

  Ravinder is obviously good with people, but let us see what he does next … operationally.

  Philip made up his mind to do everything he could to help Ravinder succeed. He was aware that with only four days left, Ravinder would need all the help he could get.

  Four days!

  Philip wondered if ninety-six hours were enough to find and stop one of the deadliest assassins in the world.

  We have already lost a man … a good man. Who else?

  Philip surveyed the others in the room. And much as he hated it, his tension grew.

  SIX

  Ravinder, keenly aware of the clock’s counting down, wasted no time getting down to business.

  “First things first, guys.” Having spent the better part of the night planning, Ravinder had worked out what he wanted done. He took charge as soon as they were seated around the conference table with an assortment of tea, coffee, and cookies. “In light of what happened to Mr. Goel, all of us will ensure we keep the others informed about our movements at all times. No lone ranger stuff at all,” Ravinder emphasized. “Move in pairs whenever possible. If none of the others is free, take one of the local cops with you. Saina, please ensure we always have a couple of Delhi police guys on standby.”

  Saina made a note on her iPad mini.

  “Secondly, our priority is to ensure both targets are safe as long as they are on Indian soil. So, Philip, I want you to go over Zardosi’s agenda with a fine-tooth comb. Imagine you are a hit man and root out every single point at which he is vulnerable and how best he could be got at. Chance, you back him up. Play devil’s advocate.”

  From Philip’s expression Ravinder knew he had struck the right chord with his 2IC.

  “Vishal, I want you to do the same for Masharrat.” Ravinder was surprised at Vishal’s sudden, though fleeting grin. However, focused on giving directions, he didn’t dwell on it. “Saina, you team up with him.”

  Vishal’s smile vanished. Saina nodded, but the look she threw at Vishal screamed nasty.

  Ravinder again noticed, but decided he didn’t have the time to deal with their personal peeves and idiosyncrasies right now. There was no time; they would have to deal with their interpersonal issues as best as they could. “Philip and Vishal, both of you will give detailed presentations on your targets first thing tomorrow. The rest of us will critique them. Then we will evaluate the protection plans to ensure we have covered all bases and the targets are secure.”

  With the defensive part of his plan addressed, Ravinder now went on the offensive. “Archana, I want you to collate a list of everyone who was privy to the intelligence inputs given to NIA by MI6. Everyone,” Ravinder stressed, “in NIA and in our task force. Someone is feeding information to Binder. We have to find him. Or her. They will lead us to Binder.”

  Everyone turned to stare at him. But they knew he was spot-on.

  Ravinder noticed the looks they exchanged were fraught with suspicion. He wished he could have done without this disruption to his team, but knew it was unavoidable; the traitor had to be unearthed. Aware this was a rocky and pointless road to traverse, Ravinder tried to banish his anxiety. But it clung to him, weighing him down.

  Once again, he wished he’d had more time to bring in a new team: people he knew and trusted. But he also knew it was not an option and he had to manage with what was available.

  I have to get them pulling in the same direction.

  To enable that and highlight the importance of their task he added, “And guys, I cannot stress this enough. Come what may, we have to stop Leon Binder. Don’t forget that Pakistan retains its importance on the world stage only by keeping its so-called enmity with India alive and fermenting. As long as they can dangle the threat of an Indo-Pak nuclear war they will continue getting economic support from the Americans. That’s also why they keep the specter of terrorism alive, even though they always pretend they are helping the world to fight it.” He gave them all a solemn look. “I personally have no love lost for either Zardosi or Masharrat, but God forbid one of these two idiots is killed in India; their loony generals will play that card forever … it may well lead to an Indo-Pak war.”

  The expressions of his team made it clear that he was not alone in his dislike for the two Pakistanis.

  SEVEN

  Vishal felt his delight at being given the same task he’d done with Leon considerably dampened at being paired with Saina. Her holier-than-thou attitude bothered him. That she sensed it and ignored him aggravated Vishal even further.

  Whatever little of his happiness was left evaporated when he heard Ravinder’s final command to Archana.

  So he suspects there is an informer.

  It was only logical, and Vishal had figured it would happen sooner rather than later. However, hoping the new chief would need time to settle in, he had not expected the mole hunt to start so soon.

  Leon was right; this bugger is sharp.

  He was still absorbing that when Philip added to his stress.

  “Sir, why aren’t we issuing an APB for Binder? That will put him under pressure and curtail his freedom of movement.”

  “Fair question, Philip,” Ravinder conceded. “There are two problems. The first is that we have no idea what name or nationality Leon has used to enter India. Considering approximately seven million foreigners visit India annually … that’s approximately twenty thousand people per day … looking for a man with no name or nationality would be worse than hunting for a needle in a haystack.” Ravinder allowed that to sink in. “To add to that, we don’t have any recent photos of Leon. So what APB do we put out?”

  Before Vishal’s delight at that could take hold, Archana delivered it a knockout punch.

  “Do we have any photographs, sir?” she asked.

  “Yes, we do.” Ravinder accessed on his laptop the photo taken when Leon was arrested after Farah’s death. “But, like I said, the most recent one we have is about thirty years old.”

  “That is a decent enough start, sir.” Archana replied, leaning across and examining the photo on his laptop. “It’s best to share such things on the task force’s O-drive, sir. Then we can all access it.”

  “Tell me how and I will.” Ravinder gave his laptop a helpless look; computers were definitely not his thing.

  “Sure.” Archana began pounding her laptop keys. Paused, eyes riveted to her screen, thought, and then launched another furious burst of keyboard pounding. She was smiling broadly when she looked up this tim
e. “I’ve done that, sir.”

  “Done what?”

  “Copied the photo on your computer to the task force’s O-drive.” Archana looked as pleased as Punch.

  “You have?” Ravinder looked confused. “How on earth did you do that?”

  “Your initials and date of birth is not a very good password, sir.” Archana grinned.

  Ravinder’s befuddled expression made Vishal laugh. The others, too. Even Saina smiled, albeit sourly.

  “Didn’t I tell you, sir? Archana is amazing.” Philip grinned. “No computer is safe from her.”

  Ravinder joined the laughter. “I must change my password.”

  “You should. Often.” Vishal heard Archana say. “And do avoid the names of your parents, wife, children, or pets. Best to jumble it up.” When Ravinder looked even more confused, she added. “Use a combination of alphabets and numbers and include at least one special character randomly.”

  Ravinder sighed sheepishly. “Then how on earth will I remember it?”

  “There are apps for that, too. Or you could do something simple … write it down.” Archana grinned.

  Vishal noted how the incident had created camaraderie in the team; and he was dismayed. Since Goel’s kidnapping the team had been in disarray; everyone had been walking around on eggshells. Then when Goel’s body was found, work had ground to a complete halt, despite Philip’s best efforts.

  And now Ravinder was undoing all the damage and bringing them up to speed real fast.

  This needs to be stopped.

  Vishal decided that putting Ravinder out of commission would make the task force dysfunctional again.

  I need to talk to Leon and figure out the best way to do that.

  Vishal saw Ravinder begin pecking at his keyboard, the two-fingered peck of someone not comfortable with computers.

  “Computers and smartphones,” Ravinder muttered. “They make me feel so dumb.”