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Authors: Mukul Deva

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BOOK: Assassins
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“In this cold?” Vishal cut in, unsure where she was going with this, but keen to fluster her. Though her mention of the time reassured him; he had been at home at eleven.

“My husband wanted to smoke and I don't allow that in the house … stinks everything up.”

“Go on.” Ravinder encouraged her.

“We were in the balcony when we heard Sikander fighting … more like arguing with someone. He sounded angry.” She looked sheepish. “We didn't
want
to hear, but he was very loud.”

“What were they saying? Could you make out with whom? Could it have been his wife?”

“Not really. Just the occasional word when his voice rose.” She actually looked sorry about that. It would have been amusing if not for the bodies. “I don't think it was his wife.” She saw the expressions of her audience and clarified. “Shama … his wife, was not the shouting type.” Then, perhaps feeling that did not show the wife in a favorable light, added, “She was very soft-spoken. And the Alis didn't fight like that. They have lived here over ten years and I never heard them fight. Lastly, it was only him we could hear. That's why I am sure he was on the phone.”

Vishal could see Ravinder process that as the others began to question her. It was soon obvious that she had nothing else relevant to add.

Thank God!

Vishal, petrified there had been an eyewitness, was breathing easier. Then he saw Ravinder gesture and followed him out with Philip.

 

TWELVE

Leon took much longer than expected to get rid of Fatima. Perhaps it was her womanly need to expend her daily quota of twenty thousand words, or her fervent desire to see the mission succeed. Either way Leon was considerably irritated by the time he got her into a cab.

Now for Nitin the Nerd. Let's see what he has to offer.

Leon was apprehensive; though the Delhi-based weapons fabricator had come highly recommended from a reliable contact in Congo, he was still an unknown. For this mission, Leon was dealing with completely unknown people.

And too bloody many of them.

His unsettled feeling mounted, putting him on edge. Though Leon didn't mind that, aware the edge would keep him alive. But it was tiring. And his stomach was acting up again. He popped another couple of pills, but knew he had to find a toilet and unload before meeting Nitin.

Shitting my pants wouldn't exactly convey the right impression.

Leon grinned, but it was a grim grin.

 

THIRTEEN

Ravinder felt the pressure escalating; time was running short and events moving too fast; before he could wrap his head around one thing, something else happened. He pulled himself together, aware losing his head meant losing the game.

“Philip, I want a list of all calls made to or by Ali yesterday,” he ordered as soon as they were in the car. A beat later, he added, “His mobile
and
the home phone.” Another beat later. “And his wife's mobile … just in case.”

“On it, sir.” Philip got his mobile out and passed on the instructions to Archana.

“I have a feeling we are getting close,” Ravinder murmured, in think-aloud mode. “Why else would Ali have been taken out?”

“You're certain he was murdered?” It was not really a question. And there was a strange note in Vishal's tone.

Ravinder was trying to put his finger on it when Philip entered the conversation, distracting him. “Whether Ali committed suicide or was murdered, in either case, it's safe to assume that he and Binder have been warned. No other reason for Ali's death.”

Ravinder could see the STF duo watching him carefully; he sensed his leadership was again being tested. That very thought had been nagging him since he had noticed the strange gunshot tattoo consistent with a silencer-fitted weapon.

It has to be someone in the task force. No one else knew who all were on Archana's list. Unless Kurup … the director himself …

Ravinder let that thought go unsaid; it was too farfetched. Aloud he said, “I'm willing to bet a silencer was used. Why would a man about to kill his wife and himself bother with one? And even if he did, where is the silencer now?” He got no response from either STF officer. “I want that weapon traced. I want to know where the hell it came from.”

“The locals are already on it,” Philip responded. “I have taken the inspector's contacts and told him to keep us in the loop.”

“Should not be too hard.” Ravinder pointed out. “The N99 is not a popular model and an old one at that.”

Silence now joined them in the car as Jagjit Singh navigated down the Outer Ring Road, back toward Nehru Place.

 

FOURTEEN

Leon made it to the rendezvous ahead of schedule, despite the time he'd lost finding a toilet. Not as early as he liked to be, but early enough to check if the venue was secure.

Green Park market was as crowded as it had been during his earlier drive through, but Leon was lucky enough to get an empty parking slot opposite the venue. Remaining inside the car, he surveyed Evergreen Sweet House. Located in the middle of the market, it was a two-story building occupying a large part of the market. The sweetshop occupied most of the ground floor. On the first was primarily a restaurant.

Leon noted with satisfaction that it was teeming with crowds, the perfect meeting point. However, spooked by his recent, nearly fatal encounter with Batra, Leon decided to change the venue.

Two minutes past the appointed time, a Tata Safari SUV navigated into a vacant parking slot in front of Evergreen. A huge man got out. Leon checked the photo on his phone provided by his contact in Nigeria. Leon knew Nitin the Nerd had arrived.

Looks like Batra's little brother.

The similarity amused Leon.

Everyone here seems to be gigantic … Om Chandra, Batra, his henchmen, and now Nitin. I may as well be in America.

The weapons specialist was as tall as Leon, but twice the girth. It was obviously his owlish horn-rimmed spectacles that had gotten him the sobriquet of Nitin the Nerd; they housed
thick
lens and gave him a scholarly but also somewhat comical air.

Locking up and double-checking the doors, Nitin rushed toward Evergreen. As much as a man his size could rush. Leon saw him halt near the door and scan the restaurant. Giving him a minute to see what he would do next, Leon called his mobile.

“Hullo, Mr. B?” The first time they'd spoken, Leon could have sworn he was talking to a woman; Nitin sounded so effeminate.

“Come out. Turn left and start walking,” Leon instructed.

“Walking?” Nitin sounded confused. “Where to?”

“Just turn left and keep walking. I'll find you.” Leon watched Nitin come out, peer around, confused. Then he started walking toward the left. “And don't cut the call.… . stay online.” Leon did not want Nitin to call or text anyone.

Shifting focus Leon began to check if anyone was following Nitin. The crowd was heavy and it was hard to be certain, but Leon could not spot anyone. He kept watching till Nitin was a hundred feet away and then followed, still watching for a tail.

“Am I going in the right direction?” Nitin asked. Leon noticed he seemed calmer now, though breathing heavily, obviously unused to the exercise.

“Yep. Keep moving.”

By the time Nitin had crossed over to the other half of the market Leon was sure he was alone. Lengthening his stride Leon caught up with the fat man easily.

“I needed to check if you were alone,” he said as he fell in beside him.

“I see.” Nitin gave a bland look. “Never hurts to be cautious, I guess. Satisfied?”

Leon saw no point responding to that. “Let's go in here,” he said instead, steering him toward the McDonald's.

Giving a mischievous grin Nitin held up his mobile. “May I cut the call now? I promise not to call anyone.”

Leon couldn't help smiling; Nitin the Nerd was sharp. And an easy man to like.

They headed toward the counter to order. Nitin's mobile began to ring; the volume had been turned down, but it was unmistakably his. Leon moved into red alert instantly; swiveling, he began to check the room.

“Relax. I have no idea who it is and no intention of answering it.” Nitin tapped his arm. “Would you feel better if I handed it over to you?”

“Best if you remove the battery.”

“I could do that.” Nitin waited till it stopped ringing and then removed the battery.

Five minutes later they were at a corner table on the first floor. Nitin, a Big Mac Meal arrayed before him, upsized naturally, looked happy. Leon, his stomach still queasy, had bought only a Coke.

“This is what I need you to do.” Leon unfolded a paper and handed it over. “Ensure you buy one presentation clicker of each of the brands shown here and three Apple display adaptors for the MacBook.”

“Three adaptors? I'm guessing one each for VGA, DVI, and HDMI.”

“That's right.”

“And I'm guessing you want one clicker of each brand because you are not sure which one you would have to use.”

“Right again.” Leon saw why Nitin had a formidable reputation; he was admirably quick on the uptake.

“I see.” Nitin paused to dig into his burger; just three bites and the Big Mac did not look big anymore. “How much aerosol do you have?”

“Two cans of one hundred milliliters each.”

“For how many targets?” Nitin had reduced the decibel level.

“Just the one.”

“More than enough then.” Nitin calculated on the fly. “I suggest we also get a couple of cordless microphones and package them, too. They would blend in with the other items and may come in handy, especially if you need to enhance the kill radius.” Leon was pondering that when he added, “I think I can do three … perhaps even four.”

“You are sure the quantity will still be enough to do the job?”

“Is it still the same stuff you'd mentioned when we first spoke?” Leon nodded. Nitin gave a soft laugh. “Then it definitely will, unless you're planning to go elephant hunting … actually even if you're going elephant hunting … that is deadly stuff.”

“Sounds good. Then go for it.” Leon was relieved, sure he had made the right choice with Nitin. “I need them tomorrow.” He could have taken delivery the day after, too, but Leon preferred to keep some cushion.

“Not a problem.” Nitin swallowed the last of his French fries and washed it down with a large swig of lemon iced tea. “But check with me in the morning, and you will need to come to my place to take delivery. This”—he waved at the restaurant—“may not be the most suitable.”

“No problem. I'll coordinate with you tomorrow.” Leon now passed over the two cans of deodorant he had collected from Batra.

Nitin noticed the brand on the spray cans, “The AXE effect.” He guffawed. “Most appropriate.”

Sharp and witty.
Leon smiled. “Do ensure this stays between us.” He kept the tone light, using his eyes to put steel into the warning.

“But of course.” Nitin shrugged. “Not exactly a service I would advertise on my website.”

“Talking of service … how much will this cost me?”

“Fifty thousand,” Nitin replied after a little thought.

“Indian rupees?”

“Thank God you didn't say Indonesian Rupiah.” Nitin's laugh was infectious. “American dollars, my friend.”

Leon knew that was reasonable; he was paying as much for discretion and reliability as for the technical expertise. Extracting an envelope from his jacket, Leon slid it across the table. “That's twenty grand on account. The rest when the job is done.”

Nitin pocketed the envelope without bothering to glance inside. Leon liked that. And he wondered if Nitin knew he would probably not live long enough to enjoy that money.

Pity! Seems like a nice guy.
But it wasn't tactically or strategically prudent to leave behind people who'd seen him and could identify him.
So be it.
“Give me five minutes before you leave.” Leon left.

Now he was in a hurry to get back to Jorbagh and rest. Also to go through Naug's dossier; he needed to be familiar with the man he was going to impersonate.

 

FIFTEEN

Ravinder went straight to Archana's table when they entered the office. “Archana, have you gotten the list of calls made to and from Ali's phones?”

“I will have it soon, sir.” She was a little taken aback at his brusque tone.

“Everyone here, please. Team huddle.” Ravinder went straight to the conference table. “Vishal and Chance, I'd like the two of you to search this half of the office.” He indicated the left section, which seated Philip, Archana, and Saina. “Philip, you, Archana, and Saina take the other half.” That was the bigger section, occupied by the rest.

Then Ravinder realized Saina was not there. “Where is Saina? Hasn't she come in yet?” He got blank looks in response. Flipping open his mobile Ravinder dialed her number. It rang a long time before going to voice mail. Irritated, and a little worried considering what had happened to Goel, Ravinder was about to redial when Vishal asked, “What are we looking for, sir?”

“Bugs. What else?” Ravinder realized he was almost snapping. He willed himself to calm down, but sensed this was not the time to pussyfoot around. “Either our office has been bugged … or one of us is batting for the other team. There is no one else who knew we were going to pick up Ali and Verma.”

That went through the room like a shock of ice water. Having the suspicion stated aloud made it so much more real. And distasteful.

Half an hour later, it was obvious the latter was true: one of the STF officers had been turned.

“This half is clear,” Vishal called out.

BOOK: Assassins
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