by David Singh
Taking the cue, Prakash Mittal turned towards the camera – already zoomed in on him for close up – and said, 'so folks, we were talking to Mr. Rajeshwar Karma on the largest threat to the country today, the Naxals. You heard and saw it loud and clear that Mr. Karma is aptly called the man of iron resolve for he has just conveyed that his party and government is not the enemy of naxals but wants to help them through peaceful talks but, yes, he has also given them a clear deadline – ASAP. Thank you Mr. Karma. Thank you folks, for watching Nation Now with Prakash Mittal.'
Makker switched off the television and turned towards the other four E5s and Vir Bhadra Singh. 'This interview had happened a few weeks back. Gangu, did you notice Karma's body language?'
Gangwar replied, 'Yeah. His face reddens when he gets angry. If I were him, I would have kicked Prakash Mittal's butt right in front of the camera.'
'From tomorrow onwards, you have to spend this month with Karma, learning every little mannerism in his voice, body language, habits, expressions, walk, his personal vocab, his quips and lashes, his food habits, his philosophy, his hobbies, his loves and hates even his eccentricities in minutest detail.'
Vir Bhadra Singh stood up and looked at everyone and said, 'there is one more development, boys. Rajeshwar Karma had been following up all the cases of crime against tribals in Dandakaranya personally. He has come across a very interesting fellow. His name is Raju Bopanna, an ex Salwa Judum, entire family wiped out brutally by Naxals in retaliation. He is dying to dance on Majumdar's corpse. He and his almost a dozen men will be your navigators, scouts and field supports. You five will make assault team together with them.'
Makker said, 'we need to capture Majumdar alive. Wouldn't this Bopanna be more of a problem than help? He may try killing Majumdar and could be a threat to the mission.'
'This could be a possibility but we have talked to him and he is completely willing to help ensure that Majumdar is brought to justice. He has promised cooperation but your doubt is valid too. You will have to make your field plan keeping this fact in mind.' Vir Bhadra Singh said.
'I suggest that we make use of smoke bombs to lose Raju and his men behind. Once we are able to outrun him by even a kilometer he can never get to us.'
'That's a good idea.' Mohan seconded, 'still if he follows us we'll ask him to go back and live otherwise killing him is the last option we have.'
'One last thing boys.' Vir Bhadra Singh concluded the meeting. 'Our mission headquarters and control room is Raipur, Chhattisgarh now. Codename: Hole.'
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
January 15, 2014
Dandakaranya, Chhattisgarh
From twenty thousand feet Dandakaranya was looking like an
expansive, dark patch of strange landscape from another planet. Scattered faint lights flickering along the far border of state seemed like fallen stars on the ground. Slate-black, moonless but starlit sky indicated the perfect weather for jump.
The powerful Ardiden 1H HAL Shakti engine had taken Dhruv Advanced Light Helicopter in the pre-decided drop zone marked by Raju. Mohan was flying the chopper and Sathapathy had accompanied them to assist Samarjeet in jumping.
'Approaching drop zone. Secondary check.' Mohan spoke in radio.
Samarjeet and Sathapathy stood up. Sathapathy once again checked the container of main canopy and reserve. Then he checked pilot chute pack, bridle, packing of all A, B, C, D and brake lines, straps and other fittings.
'Good to go.' Finally he declared.
'Heading drop point. Landmark: Five kilometers North to Hashima mines and factory. Altitude two thousand meters. Open the cabin door.' Mohan's voice crackled in the earphone.
Sathapathy slid opened the cabin door and gave a thumps-up to Samarjeet. Samarjeet smiled and nodded acknowledgment.
'There you see the torch signal in the clearing below.' Mohan informed.
Samarjeet noticed the bleak, but easily noticeable, blinking of a torch in the clear grounds below. Raju, with his group, was there to receive him.
'Slowing down. Go on 1. Countdown begins now.' Saying, Mohan commenced the counting from ten downwards.
Samarjeet took the jump stance as Dhruv, instead of hovering still, went into a swoop down along an inverted parabola before flying off ahead. After drop till five hundred meters, Mohan pitched Dhruv's nose up, increasing the collective while maintaining the climb at a constant speed of 140 KMPH. Samarjeet felt the chopper slowing down as he heard the countdown in his headphone.
Mohan was speaking, '…..four…..three'
The bird tilted a little.
'….two…one….go.'
Samarjeet left the footing and ledge into a forward throw. The cold air welcomed him into its vast lap.
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The ground was insufficiently lit by star light but jungle around was dark as a coalmine. Having packed his chute, Samarjeet fox trotted hundred paces forward in the direction of torch light behind the tree line. Air, now, felt still and warm because of thick canopies of trees in contrast with the low temperature several thousand feet above. Jungle was a glowing blur of green through his night vision glasses. Hardly did he stop after covering the decided distance when he saw around silhouettes of a dozen men – armed - rising among the thick greenery. Their faces couldn't be seen clearly. The leader, keeping his rifle straight at him and a torch in the other hand, enquired. 'Code?'
'The Retriever.' Samarjeet replied, removing his night vision gear.
'Raju Bopanna. Welcome to Abujhmad.' The leader, without bothering for any handshakes, beckoned him to follow. Adjusting his heavy luggage, plus the rifle, Samarjeet followed him. All the men moved forward in two files with Samarjeet and Raju in between. Trek began under dim torch light, through the intimidating dark jungle of robust Sal trees looming overhead like sleeping giants.
No one spoke until the troop reached a cluster of five huts strategically but hastily erected behind a natural camouflage of thick trees and vines. Men scattered around. Raju, Samarjeet in tow, entered the hut, lit with an oil lamp.
Raju turned towards him and smiled finally. 'Tea?'
The first thing Samarjeet noticed on Raju's face was an old mark of a slash wound on his right cheek as distinct as birthmark. Possibly some knife fight in the past. He was a strong, five point six, broad, dark warrior with almost entire face under gray-black beard. He had his sweaty uniform on with a broad belt stuffed with live bullets and a dagger in front.
'No milk.' Samarjeet replied, resting his backpack on the ground and taking the bench in one corner of the small hut.
'We don't have any but you have a choice of mahua or salpo – the local liquor.'
'Tea would be fine.'
'This seems to be a real nasty piece.' Raju pointed at the SLR.
'Yeah. Belgian, self loading, 4 kg, 7.62 by 51 mm Box mag. 20 rounds per minute in semi auto mode. Real nasty for anyone within half a kilometer range.'
'And this luggage of…umm…50 kg….'
'…sixty five...'
'…sixty five and the brisk walk. You ain't an ordinary fellow. Neither CRAF nor CoBRA. Who are you? What is your name?'
An armed man entered the hut with two steaming cups. They took one each.
'Names are not important. Retriever is what you can call me.'
'Sori!' Raju called out one of his men, 'get the map.' Then he tasted his tea.
Three armed men arrived with the map. This was his core team. Introductions were done then Raju spread the map on the ground. One man brought the lamp closer. Raju brought out a small torch and clicked it on. Map was hand drawn but a very neat and tidy job.
Using sharp narrow beam of the torch as pointer he began to explain, 'We are here right now. This is Hashima mining site behind these two small mountains. That is Orchha town in north. You cross Indrâvati here and reach Lanka village to enter Abujhmad from south…'
'…Come to the mission relevant areas. Where are they going to take our man after abduction?'
Raju gave him a brief sharp stare. Probably he didn't like this rude interruption. Then he continued, 'you see this area marked with red? This entire region is Hashima mines for iron ore. This river, Indrâvati, is in south. If you walk away from the river perpendicular, after about half a kilometer…here…between river and mine area is a clearing of some fifty square meters – the ruins of an old temple. Adjacent to the wall of the temple facing river, is an ancient pond. This side of the temple ruins is submerged in the pond water. The ground below the ruins is a huge basement with makeshift arrangement for troops to lodge. This is State Highway 5 between Chhota Dongar and Narayanpur where your informer says the abduction would happen. From here they will bring your man to this underground. Distance is about forty kilometers. Rough, dirt road.' He paused to let Samarjeet take in what was shown.
If 12 o' clock is Hashima mining site then 6 o' clock is Chhota Dongar-Narayanpur road. Indrâvati is 9 o' clock and ruins with underground are at the centre. Bawdi is adjacent to ruins between river and ruins themselves.
Committing the map to the long term memory, Samarjeet put the finger on a small circular icon at the 3 o' clock of the ruins. 'What's that?'
'This is an old dry well. It opens below the ground into a tunnel that opens in the basement below the ruins. This well is an entry and exit channel of this place but Majumdar and his men do not use it. There is another way out of the basement which is a simple door that opens out towards the south side of the ruins.'
'That means entry-exit from the well and entry-exit from door lie opposite to each other.'
'Yes. This entire area creeps with PWG men. One cannot reach anywhere near these ruins. But they don't guard the well since there is a heavy iron door with lock between the tunnel and the basement.'
'How many men, generally, are there?'
'No less than a two dozen. More are expected on the D-day.'
'Any details about inside the basement?'
'Basement is huge with rough, rugged walls lined with roots of surrounding old trees. Pure drinkable water from the river comes filtering through ground into the pond. In the basement simple plumbing brings pond's filtered water into a plastic tank for their use.' 'What about electricity?'
'No idea.'
'Possibly a generator inside?'
'They don't inhabit that place so generator's presence is very unlikely but who knows? That is their emergency hideout only.'
'How far are we from this place?'
'Hardly six kilometers.'
'How did you gather all this information?'
'This land is our loving mother. Rajanna, me, his men, my group…we all have spent our childhood here. I know this jungle like you know the back of your hand. You need a compass to move around, we don't.'
'Rajanna? Who is Rajanna?'
'Chief of People's Guerilla Army. You can say, Majumdar's hit man. Cunning like a fox and as dangerous as snake.'
'Will he be there with the team that will move out to abduct Rajeshwar?'
'No idea. But great chances are there.'
'Hmm. Leave this map with me. I need to spend some time to figure out the way in for mission and way out after it.'
'Anymore tea?'
'Can you arrange a jugful?'
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
January 16, 2014
Dandakaranya, Chhattisgarh
It was roughly six months now Malwanker had been undercover
and successful in sending across sufficient amount of useful intelligence. He had already sent three requests for his extraction but the headquarters seemed to be too slow on this. In response to his fourth request, he received an ambush last week. It was a close shave. He managed to kill all the five men who had attacked him. How sensitive and shocking was his intelligence gathered, he had realized only when he discovered that assaulters were not Naxals but his own men. People and government whom he was working for now didn't want him alive. His Commandant Shetty was functioning as government's hit man sending men behind him. Second assault was just last week which he managed to evade by sheer luck. Last time he was on acute alert and he easily spotted the danger since they were in uniforms. But today they came prepared. They not only corrected the mistake but improvised a lot. This time they closed in easily on him since they too were in Naxal's disguise.
They were five in number and, like him, in usual Olive Green uniform – the rulebook guise of an armed Naxal. He was climbing up a steep stone, through the thick foliage when he saw them coming on the narrow dirt road right in front of him. He replied their salutes with customary Laal Salaam (red salute) searching their faces for any recognition or familiarity. His sharp instinct instantly noticed close cropped hair, typical gait of a trained fighter and the tell tale accent. But it was too late. They suddenly trained their rifles on him. He could see no way to evade his certain death, no chance to even hope for any miracle.
But what a miracle is if it isn't against all hopes? That common Krait – the snake - which was probably on its search for lunch must not have believed in miracles too until, in a quest of crossing the narrow road, it crept over the leader's foot. For a moment leader looked down and jumped at the sight of the deadly creature and, in the process, made the poor reptile and other four assassins jolt out of terror far great deal than he himself was possessed with. Malwanker didn't waste even a moment to appreciate the miracle. He ducked and jumped into the narrow gorge adjacent to huge stone, dodging several bullets flying overhead, and landed on his left shoulder.
? Samarjeet had risen early. Humid air was one reason and the other was habit. It was evening but darkness was yet to fall. Negotiating the raw jungle track flanked with dense trees, thick foliage and precarious ravines, he was returning back after finishing the set up of the trackers. He had configured the Radio Communication (RADCOM) Community with his receiving device and the satellite. Now, via satellite, the trackers were feeding in the illuminated flickering dots to the control room several miles away in the form of a digital map. He was in a native disguise – torn vest, dirty ill fitting khaki trousers and torn canvas shoes. The soles of the shoes were specially designed giving extra comfort to the feet so that he had no problem treading the path. His survival kit and response bag was replaced by a rough jute bag over his shoulders. His tanned body was the perfect native complexion. Cropped hair was not the norm in Elite 5. Samarjeet had normal hair, this time dirty and undone.
'This jungle is a perfect place to get lost easily.' He remembered Raju's warning.
'No problem. I can trace my way back with my GPS device.' He had replied. Samarjeet moved towards the direction of denser hills. He thought to have a look around Hashima mining site. With a little effort he found out the narrow track that had brought him from the mining site to Raju's camp last night.
He was not carrying his SLR. His old, faithful friend – Glock, was inside the jute bag. Upper half of the bag was stuffed with Mahua flowers covering all the real stuff inside. He was in a lonely local farmer's disguise, out to collect Mahua flowers to sell them in the market of Orchha town.
He deftly crossed, fox trotted, stepped over, jumped, walked and circumvented along making his way through the thick foliage. It has been now above an hour he had been walking. Air was still and the natural jungle noises were heard. Wiping his face with the cotton cloth on his shoulder he reached a narrow rivulet with a few inches of clean water level. He stepped into the water when he heard the blast of random shots followed by five quick handgun shots on his 1 o' clock at some distance. He ducked behind the nearby shrubbery.
? Even before hitting the ground, Malwanker had his gun in his hand. Wincing in response to the left shoulder complaining of little bearable pain, he turned around and dispatched five random fires in enemy's direction. He scrambled up and ran for his life. At a distance of fifty meters he could see the small rivulet across clear ground. The large stones in the rivulet could give him the good cover but sprinting across a clear ground was offering himself for their target
practice. He jumped into the dense foliage on the left. Fear of receiving bullets in the back took over the pain of cuts and bruises inflicted by the stubborn twigs and thorns. He circled his way to the rivulet taking cover behind the saal tree trunks, keeping low, armed hand in readiness and eyes straight. They must be trying to surround him. He knew the tactic. Rivulet was the only way to bring them all in open and he had to outrun them in the effort. On his right hand side he occasionally caught the glimpse of the rivulet at a distance little more than fifty meters. He changed his direction and began running in a diagonal towards the rivulet quickly scanning the area around to look for any cover in the clearing that could help him find his way to the rivulet. Soon he spotted an old, abandoned ruin of a hut beside the rivulet. Quickly, he calculated. There was a clearing of thirty meters between the jungle cover and the hut ruins and another thirty meters between the hut and the rivulet. He counted till three and ran like hell through the clearing towards the hut. The gravel of dry stones hampered his speed. Another volley of shots leapt at him. Bullets whizzed past. He fell forward on the ground on his stomach. Hut was still good ten meters ahead. Remaining low he crawled his way on the knees and elbows to cover the distance. At five meters he got up keeping the head low and reached the hut. Another shot. Missed. He turned round the posterior corner of the hut to take the position. His one of the hunters was standing right in front of him just six feet away
– rifle ready. Malwanker began bringing his armed hand up but he knew he was too late for a ready rifle. His eyes widened, first, out of terror then disbelief and surprise when he saw a red blot in the right side of opponent's chest but no sound of the shot was heard. Was there a friend out there somewhere? Thinking, Malwanker shot the wounded hunter dead and entered the hut ruins.