Assassins (21 page)

I have to ensure his death is not in vain.

Thoughts of Leon swamped him again.

Where could he be? And what's he planning?

Edward's ominous phone call and warning reverberated in his head. “Watch out for him, Ravinder. He will come at you from your blind side … from where you least expect him.”

What
is
Leon planning? And what had Edward been trying to tell me?

Ravinder's confusion escalated. And his emotional turmoil. He wanted to pick up the phone and call Edward. But he didn't … couldn't … something held him back … Perhaps not knowing or even wanting to know the truth was safer.

What truth?

Does it matter?

I've taken this on and now I
have
to finish it. There is too much at stake.

Unwilling to get bogged down, Ravinder pushed away those troubling thoughts. But he could not push away the feeling he'd missed something in Leon's file. Some pattern or something in his MO that he could use to second-guess Leon and find him before Leon found his targets.

Keen to put that worry to bed, Ravinder got ready and went down to his study. Soon he was again lost in the three-decade long bloody trail Leon had left across the world.

June 1983. Cairo. Salah Abdel Sabour. If ever a man had lived below the radar, Salah had, despite the critical role he had played in Anwar Sadat's administration. But he had been protected. Heavily protected. However, not enough to stop Leon Binder.

Considering this was only Binder's second professional assignment, Ravinder marveled at the ingenuity of Leon's attack plan and his meticulous implementation.

They had not even come to know Salah had been murdered till the autopsy several hours later. By then Leon was long gone.

The hit would never have been traced back to Leon if it had not been for the inadvertent capture of one of the men who had hired him, and
his
spilling the beans. The snitch, willing or unwilling, had paid the price; and his death had been swift and spectacular. The bomb that took him out not just ended his life; it also rendered his body into bloody shreds. An unambiguous statement from the assassin; any breach of faith would not be tolerated.

Nineteen eighty-three. Over three decades ago. Two deadly strikes within the space of a few weeks. Wonder how much more sophisticated and efficient Leon has become since?

Anxiety that he would fail tugged at Ravinder.
Again.

Steeling himself, he returned to the laptop and forced himself to concentrate.

June 1983. Just months after Leon's escape from prison.

This time it was not fear that tugged at Ravinder, but guilt. About Farah. A large dose of it. Multiplied by Edward's recent phone call. It gnawed at his peace of mind. Sapping the restful energy he had woken up with.

He was delighted when Jasmine sailed in, balancing a tray with steaming hot tea and the digestive biscuits he loved.

“It's Christmas, Dad,” she complained jokingly. “Don't tell me you are working today.”

“Unfortunately Santa stuffed Masharrat and Zardosi in my stocking.” Ravinder laughed. “I'd chill, too, if only those two morons would stay away from India.” But shutting the laptop, he joined her on the sofa overlooking the garden. “Are you now going to tell me what you have planned for Simran's birthday?”

“No, Dad.
No way
.” Jasmine grinned. “That is going to be a
complete
surprise.”

Then they sat. Mostly in silence, father and daughter, and watched the sun struggle to pierce the morning fog.

By the time they got up to join Simran for breakfast, most of Ravinder's earlier equanimity had been restored. The easy banter between the women in his life as they planned a relaxed day at the spa reinforced it. Ravinder found it reassuring; the realization that, despite the turmoil caused by Leon's return in his life, some parts of it remained so mundane and ordinary. He cherished the sheer, everyday monotony; it grounded him and brought some semblance of normalcy.

“Why don't you join us at the spa, Dad. You could do with a massage,” Jasmine suggested.

“That I would love.” Ravinder smiled. “But not today. Next week. Soon as this is over.”

“That's a date.” Simran wagged a finger at him, but smiling. “I'm going to hold you to that.”

“Done.” Ravinder felt his heart smile as he caressed her cheek. “You have yourself a date, my dear.”

“Get a room, guys.” But Jasmine looked delighted. “And, Dad, don't forget we have dinner with Rekha's family today,” Jasmine added as Ravinder headed out for office.

“I will be back in time, Princess.” Ravinder thought Rekha's parents were overbearing and pompous. He was not overly fond of them, but he knew the girls were close; both were planning to go to the same law school in America for their Master of Laws program. Also, right now this was another bit of normalcy Ravinder craved.

“Don't bother, Dad. Your office is en route to NOIDA. We will pick you up.”

Then he was in the car, comfortably settled in the plush rear seat, with Jagjit Singh at the wheel. His mobile beeped as the BMW navigated out of the gate.

“How is it going, Ravinder?” Edward sounded excited; no awkward traces of the last time they'd spoken. Ravinder realized he must have been really drunk then. “There is something you should know. Fatima Basheer is not in London. Neither are the other top three SOB people.”

“And?”

“We have traced the other three; they have gone to ground in Dubai … which means we don't have a hope in hell of extraditing them. Anyway, the point is that Fatima is not with them.”

“You think she is here?” Ravinder felt a tingle of anticipation. “In India?”

“We cannot be sure, Ravinder. There is no record of her leaving the UK on her official passport, so wherever she has gone, she is using a false passport. But if she is in India…”

“And we find her,” Ravinder completed, “there's a good chance she can lead us to Leon.”

“Perhaps. If Leon lets her know where he is.”

“Will he be that dumb?” Ravinder felt some of his excitement abate; it seemed improbable that Leon would do something that stupid.

“Not likely, old chap, but we have nothing to lose. If we can get our hands on her…”

“
If!”
Ravinder laughed. “A Paki in India on a false passport! That's like Christmas come early. The cops here will … just send me a photo, Edward, and let me pass it to them.”

The call left Ravinder in a thoughtful mood. But energized; he felt more hopeful.

A few minutes later his mobile beeped again; an incoming WhatsApp message. Clicking it open he was shocked to find Farah Fairfowler staring at him. Only when he read Edward's message did he realize it was Fatima Basheer. Suddenly there wasn't enough air in the car; Ravinder felt winded—the similarity to Farah stunned him. He felt a wave of nausea as Farah's bloodied face swam before his eyes; the way he had seen her the last time. With a massive effort he pushed away that memory. Several deep breaths later he felt control return. That is when he remembered that Farah's mother had been a Pakistani, too.

Could there be a link between Farah and Fatima? And the Sisters of Benazir?

He pondered that as he watched the dense Delhi traffic crawl past with sightless eyes.

Nah! That would be too much of a stretch.

But the thought would not go away. He was about to call Edward and ask him how the MI6 man felt about the similarity. Remembering how besotted Edward had been with Farah, he could not bring himself to pick up the phone.

In any case, what difference does it make?

Shelving these thoughts he forwarded the picture to Archana, with instructions for an alert to go out:
Top Priority. Locate and follow, but do not apprehend unless subject is attempting to flee the country
.
If so, must be taken alive at all costs.

Ravinder needed Fatima to lead him to Leon. He was confident Archana would have the APB out before he reached office. So intent was he on having that done, Ravinder forgot to copy the other task force officers on the message.

 

THREE

Leon was not having a good Christmas, either. His rumbling stomach had kept him awake most of the night. And the large red welt on his elbow did not look good. Leon flexed his fingers and his arm; they were mobile, but the pain was awful. Leon hoped it was only the stiffness caused by a night of immobility, but wondered if he should get an x-ray. The thought of going to a doctor lacked appeal.

Perhaps later … if it doesn't improve.

Applying Tiger Balm, again recommended by the friendly neighborhood pharmacist, he retied the crepe bandage and then checked his mail to ensure Hakon had sent the dossier he'd compiled on Naug. He had.

But nothing from Baxter yet.

Worried, he reached for his mobile and dialed Baxter.

It rang and rang, but again there was no response from Baxter. Leon's worry escalated; he needed Professor Naug's flight details from London. He didn't want to take any unnecessary chances by going to Naug's Delhi hotel any earlier than required.

Where the hell are you, Baxter, you prat! Christmas or no Christmas, I'll kill you if you are on a binge.

But Leon knew Baxter would not have done that; they had operated together before and Baxter had never let him down.
That
is what was worrying Leon. Perhaps the SOB leak was worse than he'd envisaged. Perhaps the cops had gotten their hands on Baxter.

But how would they know about him? No one at SOB knew about him.

Have I missed something?

He fretted over that, his mind examining possibilities. Despite his growing uneasiness, Leon was not yet able to spot any new, mission-abort signals.

Other than the fact that this bloody mission seems to be jinxed.

Downing another Norflox to settle his stomach and a Combiflam to dull the pain in his elbow, Leon got dressed. The idea of a decoy attack was clear in his head, but he had yet to work out the details on the ground.

I must do that today, during my final recon.

He decided to start with the stadium.

 

FOUR

Vishal saw Ravinder emerge from his BMW as he drove into the office parking lot. To his dismay Ravinder looked spry and seemed to be bubbling with energy.

But not for long. Kapil Choudhary would soon attend to that.

Vishal wondered where Kapil was.

Had he taken up position at Ravinder's house?

Keen to check, he was reaching for his backup mobile with the untraceable SIM card when another car pulled up and a couple of cops got out. Greeting Vishal, they kept pace with him all the way to the office. No way he could call.

That added to Vishal's irritation; unable to sleep and with the effects of the adrenaline hangover still lingering, he was in a foul mood. The energy he encountered when he entered the office only made him feel worse.

“Did you guys pull an all-nighter?” Ravinder was asking.

“Almost.” Philip had that smug look, which Vishal hated. Though, like Archana and Chance, he looked haggard. All three were clustered around her table.

“These two guys wimped out by midnight.” Archana laughed. “But we double-checked every single thing.”

“And?”

“And it is rock solid, Boss.” Philip replied. “No room for ambiguity.”

Chance nodded concurrence. Archana looked pleased and relieved.

“So it is either of the two deputy directors from NIA, or one of you four?” Ravinder gave each of them a long look.

Vishal's heart plummeted, but he stayed poker-faced, meeting Ravinder's eyes like the others.

Then things went from bad to worse.

“Let's do this.” Ravinder commanded decisively. “Archana, find out where both those guys are right now, Ashok Verma and Sikander Ali. Meanwhile, I will bring their director up to speed. After that Philip, Vishal, and I will bring them in. Chance, you and Saina will be the backups. Be ready to move.”

“Sure. But where is Saina?” Chance queried.

“Not in yet.” Philip responded. “Must be on her way.”

“What do you want me to do, sir?” Archana was looking left out.

Before Ravinder could respond, Philip did. “Why don't you start work on Binder's photograph?”

Ravinder nodded approvingly, delighted to see his team coming together. “It would be great to have that APB out ASAP. Only you can do that.”

That made Archana happy.

Vishal saw Philip draw his weapon, check it, and return it to his shoulder holster. Then he drew a pair of plastic handcuffs and tossed one across to Vishal. “I don't think they will be required, but just in case.”

Pocketing the cuffs Vishal also went through the motions of checking his weapon and spare mag. But his mind was in a whirl, full of apprehension.

Damn! I should never have listened to Leon. It would have been better to get rid of Ashok.

Vishal knew he could not let Verma be taken alive.

“Ali has still not reached the office, but Verma is already in.” Archana replaced her phone and called out.

Vishal fretted, wondering when they would discover Sikander's death and if it would provide the required diversion. He realized things could get sticky really fast if it did not throw Ravinder off Verma's trail.

Where the hell is Kapil Choudhary?

Vishal wished he could call him and find out, but with the team huddle still in progress it would have looked strange; attention was the last thing he wanted right now.