Assassins (44 page)

“One thirty.” Kurup nodded. “Right after lunch.”

Ravinder's eyes flicked to his watch. Twelve-forty.

“Mothball Masharrat for all I care, but tell them to keep it real quiet.”

“I am not going to put him at risk, Ravinder,” Kurup reiterated.

“Don't! I don't care. From my side you can tie him to a stone and throw him in the ocean. But give me a fighting chance to get Leon.” Ravinder glared at him. “You owe me that.”

Reluctantly, Kurup nodded. “Go get him, then.”

Spinning around, mentally plotting the route to Siri Fort auditorium, Ravinder ran toward the exit as Kurup got on the phone.

Mathura Road, Zakir Hussain Marg, Bhishma Pitamah Marg, and then August Kranti Marg
. Ravinder knew that would be the best route to take.

Pack off the Pakis.

Bluffmaster, give us another one, just like the other one.

Pack off the Pakis.

The chant followed Ravinder to the car park. Despite the tension, the irony of the moment struck him.

That is precisely what Leon wants to do. But he won't. Not on my watch.

Ravinder's determination took a hit as he emerged from the stadium and the sight of a thousand cars clogging the car park assaulted his eyes.

Getting out of here will be a bloody nightmare.

And he knew time was at a premium. No matter how good the protection, every target was vulnerable. With a hunter as wily as Leon, Ravinder knew the smallest slip on the part of the security team and Masharrat would be playing the harp with Benazir.

Till Leon was knocked out of the game, hunting season on Masharrat was open. Personally appealing though it was, shelving the thought, Ravinder ran for his car.

 

TWENTY

Leon was about to get up and fetch Deepa when he saw her answer her mobile. Then she got up and walked toward him.

“I'm sorry, sir, but it is going to be a few more minutes before we can access the main conference hall.” She looked apologetic.

“What happened?” Leon felt a stirring of alarm.

“Nothing. The special session is not yet over.” She held up her mobile. “I'd requested the general's liaison officer to call me when the hall was free. The general also insists on checking his slides.” Then she realized that might not have sounded nice and added hastily, “His session is right after lunch … just before yours.”

“Will the general come personally?”

“I'm not sure.” Deepa looked confused. “I think so. Why?”

“It would be exciting to meet him.” Leon forced a smile.

“I'll check and let you know. Perhaps we can go at the same time.” She gave a mischievous smile. “I'd like to meet him, too.”

Leon could have hugged her; the unexpected break thrilled him.

If I can get the general within sixty feet, it will all be over but for the cheering.

Leon knew it did not matter how many guards there were around him; they would not even see the hit coming. By the time they figured it was not a heart attack, he planned to be several air miles out of Delhi.

 

TWENTY-ONE

Ravinder wished he had been riding a tank; he would have bludgeoned everything in the car park out of the way. Aware that losing his cool would only increase his handicap, he forced himself to sit patiently as the driver navigated through the untidily parked cars. Despite his best efforts it took twelve minutes before they broke free from the parking lot.

“Good man.” Ravinder breathed a sigh of relief as they got onto the road. “Now hit it, Jagjit. We needed to be there an hour ago.”

Activating the siren, Jagjit Singh complied. Soon they were tearing down Mathura Road. The road was blissfully devoid of traffic and they made good time.

Ravinder remembered he had not yet warned his team. He speed-dialed Cherian, but got a busy tone. Then Saina. She answered immediately.

“The target is Masharrat, not Zardosi.”

“Really?” Saina was shocked. Then excited. “Are you sure?”

“Seems certain. I'm unable to get hold of Cherian. Find him and brief him. Tell him to stick to Masharrat and ensure no one gets near him. You meet me at the gate. I don't want to be held up by security.”

“Not to worry, sir.” Saina had perked up; one moment she had been guarding the dark-horse target and now, in the blink of an eye, she was in the eye of the storm. “How long before you get here?”

Ravinder checked with Jagjit. “Ten … max fifteen minutes.”

“Roger, sir. I'll inform Philip and then wait for you at the gate.”

 

TWENTY-TWO

Leon controlled his eagerness as he replaced his laptop in the carry bag and got up to follow Deepa.

“Unfortunately General Masharrat will not be coming to test his slides,” Deepa said as they made their way to the door. “He's sending his assistant instead.”

“That's a pity.” Leon masked his disappointment at the lost opportunity.

“It is, isn't it? I would have loved to meet him, too. I have seen a Pakistani general before, but never an ex-dictator,” Deepa said glumly. “Some security issue,” she added as she held the door open for the man she thought was Professor Naug.

“What security issue?” Leon felt a stirring of alarm.

“I'm not sure, but my friend, the general's liaison officer, tells me they have chucked everyone out of his room and doubled the guards.”

The alarm in Leon's head was louder now, too loud to ignore.

“Oh! That's disturbing.” His mind moved into rapid-process mode. “I hope there is nothing for
us
to worry about.” Then he added, “You know, what with all these terrorist attacks.”

“Oh no, sir.” Deepa seemed anxious to alleviate his concern. “I'm sure we are safe. If there'd been any problem I'm sure we would have been warned.” Then, as an afterthought, she added, “The new security measures are only for General Masharrat.”

And with that, Leon
knew
he had been blown. “Why do you mean?”

“When my friend told me about the increase in General Masharrat's security I asked if the other speakers were also affected. I even checked with our manager. But the alert is only for the general.” Thinking he was worried, Deepa reassured him, “We're fine.”

There was no further doubt. Leon's mind spun into action, absorbing the new reality and adapting.

First things first, I need to get out of here immediately.

Leon knew they would begin clamp down any time, if they had not done so already. But now there was no panic or fear; he knew that would get him killed more surely than any cop's bullet. He had been in tight corners before and knew he needed to be at his best if he was to survive.

Who are they looking for? Me? Or Naug?

How could they know about Naug?

Lulled by the APB, Leon discounted that.
Possible, but not likely.

His mind kicked into high gear and began to sift through the various contingency plans he had deliberated in the days past.

“Give me a minute, please, Deepa.” Leon vanished into the toilet adjoining the Green Room. Safe from prying eyes, in the solitary confines of the toilet cubicle, he marshaled his thoughts, worked through the most likely contingencies and how he would counter them.

Should I get rid of the Naug disguise?

Leon was confident he could alter it sufficiently to beat a casual scrutiny.

But what about Deepa? She would know something's wrong.

He briefly contemplated getting rid of her with some excuse, but sensed that she would not leave him alone for long, and killing her was not a viable option; there were too many people about.

Besides, I need her to get me out of the auditorium.

And I have to do it without arousing her suspicion.

Leon sensed she was na
ï
ve but far from stupid. He didn't want to do anything to arouse her suspicions.

In the worst case, she could also be useful as a hostage.

He made up his mind; best to go through the motions of checking his Mac and then claim he had forgotten something in the car.

That should get me out.

Leon weighed that; seemed logical and workable.

I also need to be ready to fight my way out.

Leon longed for the comforting feel of a pistol, but realized it would be of little use against dozens of armed guards. Opening Naug's bag he took out the heaviest microphone and put it in his right pocket, along with the matching adaptor. The paired clicker went into his left pocket; but Leon did not arm it, worried it might be checked at the gate; he did not relish the idea of someone triggering it off by mistake.

He now joined Deepa, who'd been waiting outside, doing what most people her age did when they have a moment, texting.

“Sorry for making you wait, Deepa.”

They resumed their journey toward the conference hall, Deepa half a step ahead.

A minute later Leon was on the podium, hooking up the Mac with practiced ease. Soon Naug's Mac screen was displayed on the projector.

Leon pretended to root through his carry bag. “Oh!” He smacked his forehead in exasperation. “I think I left my thumb drive in the car. Would you please help me get it?”

“Sure, sir.” Deepa was Help Incarnate. “If you want, I can go and get it for you from the car.”

“Perhaps it would be best if I came along. We may need to search for it. I remember taking it out on the way down, but I am not sure where I left it.” Leon saw she was about to suggest something else, so he added. “Would it be okay to leave my Mac connected … till we get back? So that I can test my slides.”

The distraction worked; most people respond to a question instinctively. “Sure, sir. I will brief the staff to take care.” She crossed the stage and spoke to the two men in the wings. A moment later she was back. “Should we go, sir?”

Leon grabbed his bag as they went; his passport and the weaponized items were in it and Leon did not want to leave those unattended.

With Deepa again leading the way, they headed for the main gate.

 

TWENTY-THREE

Ravinder heard the call-waiting tone even as Saina hung up. He switched to the new call.

“That's it, then.” The relief in Kurup's voice was tangible. “We have locked Masharrat down. He was playing general and kicking up a fuss till I gave him a gist of the possibilities.” Kurup laughed, not a pleasant one. “That shut him up really fast. He is now behaving like a very good boy. I have a dozen well-armed men nursing him.”

“Pity!” Ravinder could not help himself. “Considering what the blighter did when he was the president of Pakistan, it would have been fun to see him fry.”

“Now, now, Ravinder,” Kurup chided.

Ravinder noted Kurup seemed much more settled now that he had Masharrat under lock and key. “Have they started looking for Leon?”

“Done that! They already had copies of the APB. I told them to hand out copies to every available man.”

“And Professor Naug's photo?”

“Crap!” Some of Kurup's composure evaporated. “Masharrat exasperated me so much that completely slipped my mind. Let me do that right away.”

“They can take Naug's photos from the conference organizers and distribute them to security.”

“Good thinking. Let me get them on it.” About to ring off, Kurup asked, “Where are you now?”

“Almost there,” Ravinder told him.

“Keep me posted.” Before putting down the phone he added, “And best of luck, Ravinder.”

Dropping back the mobile in his pocket Ravinder silently egged the driver on. He was aching to get started.

*   *   *

Instinct told him Leon was within his grasp.

 

SHOWDOWN

Leon felt acutely alive, like an infantry soldier infiltrating through enemy lines; the kind of alive that's second cousin to fear and danger; the kind that sends adrenaline coursing through the veins and puts an edge on all human faculties.

The click-clack of Deepa's heels, walking before him, leading the way to the gate and safety beyond, became sharper as they transited from the carpeted corridor to the marble lobby floor. The abrupt glow of the mobile in her left hand as it received yet another text. The faint clinking of bangles on her right hand. The murmur of people standing around the lobby in clusters. Fleeting strands of conversation. An occasional burst of laughter. The rustle of paper. The white-and-black-liveried waiters, moving around with glasses of water, Coke, and Sprite. The occasional flash of light as it reflected off some jewelry. Name cards changing hands. The confusing mass of aftershave lotions, colognes, and perfumes. Errant dust mites rising up in columns, visible wherever stray rays of the winter sun pierced through the skylights.

Leon registered everything; eyes seeking anything out of the ordinary; body primed to leap into action at the first sign of trouble; mind on DEFCON ONE, sifting through the possible scenarios that could play out. He knew he was now in a zero tolerance zone, with absolutely no margin for even the slightest error.

Not if I want to get out alive.

They were halfway across the cavernous central lobby when he spotted the first sign of danger: six men dressed in the distinctive black suits of security officers, telltale earpieces, half-folded papers in their left hands, the right ones hovering near the handguns holstered under their coats. They were strung out in a line, five or six feet apart, moving through the crowded lobby, scanning each face as they went past. Like a line of beaters working the jungle, intent on spooking the game and driving it out into the open, to the waiting guns.