PRIMAL Mirza (A PRIMAL Series Novella) (15 page)

BOOK: PRIMAL Mirza (A PRIMAL Series Novella)
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CHAPTER 25

 

Sonia Jayaram was sitting at her
desk reading through the initial NSG report on the Chandni Chowk incident.
While twenty-four hours was too early for all the facts to be ascertained, she
doubted the report was even a rough representation of the events. The most
glaring part, the part that drew her suspicions were scathing comments
regarding RAW, in particular Captain Himesh Arjun, the operative who had been
killed. According to the report the captain’s actions had compromised the NSG
plan, resulting in terrorists escaping and attacking the Imperial Hotel.

Her
desk phone rang and she picked it up. “Hello, Sonia Jayaram speaking.”

“It’s
Mirza, we need to meet.”

“I
think that’s a good idea.”

“Somewhere
public.”

There
was a pause as she considered the request. “How about the Red Fort. There’s a
museum there.”

“I’ll
see you there in an hour.” The call terminated.

 

***

 

Mirza looked up at the
towering Red Fort. Constructed from red sandstone the walls looked like they
had been dyed in blood. After the past few days, it seemed appropriate. Finding
a discreet spot where he could watch people moving through the gate, he settled
in.

After five minutes and
no sign of undercover cops, he joined the throng of tourists and moved through
the huge gatehouse into the Chatta Chowk bazaar. Once the lifeblood of the
ancient fortress, where merchants sold exotic spices, luxurious clothing, and
intricate jewelry, now, it was a tourist trap.

He passed through the enclosed market, pausing at a stall to inspect
sunglasses. Using the mirrored lens on a pair of cheap aviators, he scanned the
crowd behind him. Then as he moved from one stall to next, he kept an eye on
anyone who seemed out of place. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Sonia. It was
Prasad and his cronies that concerned him. Once he was confident he wasn’t
followed, he walked out through the gardens toward the Mumtaz Mahal Museum.

Mirza stopped under a tree and sat with his back against the trunk.
Through half-closed eyes he inspected the long white building and surrounding
area. Spotting no one suspicious, he rose and headed for the meet.

Dropping a coin in the donation box, he entered the museum. The
crowd consisted mainly of Indians with only a few foreign tourists. He ambled
past the exhibits, stopping to examine a display case filled with antique
women’s accessories.

He glanced at his watch. Two minutes late. He casually looked up and
down the corridor. Where was she?

“Hello, Mirza.”

At his name, he turned and faced the woman who had touched him. The
burka-clad figure shocked him into silence. The last time he had seen Sonia,
she was wearing a smart, although bloodied, white blouse. The hazel colored
eyes were familiar as was the faint scent of perfume. “Sonia?”

“Yes, sorry about the outfit. I got the idea from the Burka Warriors
everyone’s talking about. Didn’t want to make it easy for Prasad’s men.”

“Quite a popular tactic.” He glanced around. “Were you followed?”

She nodded. “Initially. They’re probably still waiting for me to
come out of the ladies room at Old Delhi Junction.”

“Good one.” Mirza turned and faced a tapestry hanging on the wall.
“What’s Prasad got to say for himself?”

“NSG has issued a warrant for your arrest.”

“Not surprising, any new crimes?”

“Multiple charges of assaulting a police officer, theft of a
firearm, obstructing an investigation, the list goes on.”

“Clearly, I’ve been busy. What about Prasad? Is anyone going to
arrest him for killing Ranbir and Himesh? Or turning a blind eye to terrorism
and organ harvesting?”

“We need evidence. You have to come in and make a statement.”

He laughed. “You think I’d stay a free man? It’s my word against
Prasad, and he holds all the cards. If I came in now, he’d blame me for
everything.”

She grasped his arm. “Mirza, I owe you my life. You’re not alone in
the world. I’ll protect you. So will my brother.”

Mirza looked into her hazel eyes and wanted to believe they could.
“I’ve got a witness for you.”

“A witness is good. Do you want to send them to my office?”

“No. I want you to come with me now and meet him.”

“That might not be–”

“Sonia, do you think I’d save your life just to put it at risk
again?”

She shook her head. “Fine, I’ll come.”

Mirza led her out of the museum and
climbed into the tuk-tuk of Atal’s friend. In less than ten minutes, they
arrived at his new hotel. His hand on her elbow, he escorted up to the room and
knocked twice, then once. Atal unlocked the door and let them in.

Seated
on the bed, with feet and hands bound with tape and a rag stuffed in his mouth,
was Neeraj

“Did
he give you any problems?”

“Not
a word. Quiet like a mouse.”

Sonia
made for the door. “Mirza, I can’t be here. You’ve kidnapped this man. I can’t
be a part of this.”

“Wait.”
Mirza tore the rag from Neeraj’s mouth. “Tell her what you told me, about Prasad.”

The
criminal licked his lips and glanced up at the woman in the burka. “He knew the
Pakis were going to kidnap Sonia Jayaram.”

Her
face hidden behind the veil, Sonia raised an eyebrow. “How do you know this?”

“I
told him I was looking after the Pakis, and he made me tell him everything.”

“He
met with you?”

“Yes,
I give him information and cash. In return, he turns a blind eye to my
business. It’s been that way for years.”

Mirza
put his hand on her shoulder. “Prasad knew what they’d planned and did
nothing.” He turned back to Neeraj. “Tell her what Prasad wants you to do now.”

“He
wants me to kill Sonia Jayaram.”

Sonia
stood there in stunned silence. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she
asked quietly.

“Tell
her everything,” said Mirza.

“He
told me to kill her tomorrow outside of the Delhi Police Headquarters. At three
o’clock. I have to wait in the parking lot for her to leave.”

Sonia
took off her hijab and sat on the bed opposite Neeraj as she struggled to
accept the truth. Without fail, the monthly security meeting finished at three
o’clock. Only those who attended would know she left immediately upon the
meeting’s conclusion. “That bastard!” She lifted her gaze to Mirza. “I don’t
get it. Why does he want me out of the way?”

“I’ve
no idea, Sonia. One thing’s for sure, he’s as crooked as they come. He has to
be hiding something. Something he doesn’t want you to discover.”

She
sighed. “Like the reason he was willing to sit back and let terrorists attack a
stadium filled with forty thousand innocent people. The man’s demented.”

“No
doubt; and neither of us will be safe until he’s dead. He knew what the
terrorists were planning and he did nothing. Then when we stepped in to stop
them, he ordered Himesh and Ranbir executed.”

Sonia
stood. “No, we can’t kill him. The justice system must prevail. He will be
arrested and brought to trial for his crimes.”

Mirza
shook his head. “It’ll be his word against mine. Even with Neeraj testifying,
there’s a good chance he’ll get away with it.”

“Perhaps,
but at a minimum, he’ll be suspended. Then I can have an anti-corruption
investigation launched. I guarantee that if we dig, we’ll uncover more than
just the Chandni Chowk incident.”

“But
everyone thinks he’s a hero. No sane policeman is going to put their career on
the line to put him in handcuffs.”

“We’ll
need help.” Sonia paused
,
then a slow smile broke
free. “Ranbir was a local cop wasn’t he?”

“Yes,
Chandni Chowk markets.”

“Would
his colleagues help us?”

“Maybe.
But how do we get Prasad into Chandni Chowk. It’s not like they can walk into
the NSG compound and arrest him.”

“He’s
looking for me,” said Atal. “Neeraj said the Black Cats were looking for me so
Prasad could find the last Burka Warrior.”

Mirza
tussled the kid’s hair. “What would I do without you?”

 

***

 

Atal sat with the other tuk-tuk
drivers eating a bowl of curry. He knew he was being watched. The plain-clothed
NSG officer had followed him for nearly an hour, but it did not concern him. He
knew every shortcut and back alley in the slum. When he felt like it, he could
lose the man in the twists and turns.

A
few minutes later, he pretended he hadn’t noticed as another two men joined the
first. He recognized one as the high-ranking officer who had ordered Mirza
arrested. The other was a big guy, an undercover cop he had seen around. They
talked for a moment, then his original tail left.

That
was Atal’s cue to move. He dropped his bowl on the ground and sauntered down a
laneway. He glanced over his shoulder; the boss and his thug were following
him.

With
a grin, Atal started to jog. Ducking into an alley, he headed away from the
markets to an ancient part of the district. A quick peek over his shoulder
showed the two men gaining on him. He dashed around a corner, slipped on the
slimy cobblestones, and landed on his butt.

The
muscle-bound plain-clothes officer aimed a pistol at his head. “That’s far
enough.”

A second later, the boss caught up.
“I’ve got you now.”

 
“Do you?” Atal launched himself sideways
through a doorway and kicked it shut behind him.

 

***

 

“Grab that little shit,” Prasad
ordered.

Roshan
shoulder slammed the door. It sprang open, revealing a courtyard the size of a
squash court. Doorways led off both sides. On the far wall, a short set of
stairs ran up to another entrance. Hunched on the stairs sat a figure wrapped
in a filthy cloak.

“Where’s
the kid?” Prasad had his weapon drawn.

Roshan
swept the courtyard with his pistol. “Could’ve gone through any of these
doors.”

Prasad
shook his head. “You there, old man. Did you see a young boy come in here?”

“That
depends,” he said.

“Answer
me, granddad. Where did the boy go?”

The
figure dropped his cloak. “Somewhere safe.”

“Mirza!”
Smiling, Prasad lifted his Browning. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Roshan
continued to scan the buildings on either side, wary of an ambush.

“And
now you’ve found me.”

“And
now I’ll be taking you in.”

Mirza
remained seated. “I don’t think I like that idea.”

“In
that case, you can die here.” He nodded to Roshan who stepped forward.

Mirza
shook his head. “That’s your modus operandi, isn’t it? Always getting someone
else to do your dirty work.
Same with Himesh and Ranbir.
Had your men shoot them in the back.”

Prasad
laughed. “I told you and that arrogant bastard to keep your noses out of my
business. But you didn’t. So, your friends got shot. You can’t blame me for
that.”

“Yes
I can. We brought you the
intel
. You refused to act.
When we realized you were doing nothing, we did what we could. And for that,
you had to kill my partner and an innocent police officer?”

“You
don’t understand, do you, Corporal? This is my fucking town. I knew about your
little terrorist group from the start. Why I chose not to deal with them is
none of your fucking business.”

“Maybe
not, but I’d like to know why you’d let them kill Sonia Jayaram.”

Prasad
smiled nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?
Because my friend Neeraj seems to think you still want her dead.”

His
smile dropped. “How the hell do you know that?” With his weapon raised, he
strode up to Mirza. “You may think you’re smart, but once you’re dead, no one’s
going to believe the word of a flesh dealing piece of shit like him.”

Mirza
shook his head. “No. But they might believe two police officers and a federal
prosecutor.”

“I
knew something was off, boss.” Roshan started to back away. As a side door
swung open, he aimed his pistol at it. The muzzle of a submachine gun appeared
followed by a uniformed police officer.

“Drop
your weapons!” A voice yelled as another armed policeman entered the courtyard.

Roshan
placed his pistol on the ground and raised his hands.

Prasad
glanced over his shoulder at the two cops. “Fuck you.” He spun back to Mirza.

Mirza
sprang off the stairs, grabbed the muzzle of Prasad’s weapon and jerked it to
the side as he squeezed the trigger. The bullet ricocheted off a
stone wall
.

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