Brutal (23 page)

W
hen the meeting
Eli Cohen had called was over, Daniel Levy walked to his room taking quick steps. He was one of the five Israeli scientists were attending the nuclear summit. The news of the threat to their lives had made him paranoid. Once he was inside his room (numbered 701), he ran over to his room window and slid it close, hastily drawing the curtains over it. He picked up a mineral water bottle kept on the coffee table and gulped it down. The water tasted a bit odd, but he chose to ignore it. There were far bigger issues to tackle.
Bloody Iranians. Why don’t we nuke them and get over with this war?

He was a professor and the Head of the Nuclear Physics Department at the Weizmann Institute of Science. Quite unlike other people in his profession, he had a fit and muscular body, achieved through his daily workout in the gym. He was six-feet-two and weighed over one hundred and twenty kilos. As he sunk in his body over the mattress and looked at the ceiling, a peculiar feeling of anxiety and rage began to sweep over him. Second after second, his rage kept amplifying itself every second till he was lost in a sombre dream, with eyes wide open. His mind drifted to a bloody past he thought he had left behind.

The image of a horrific bomb blast flashed before from his eyes. It was the Jerusalem of 1983. His parents had gone out for shopping, leaving him and his kid brother at home. He was having his lunch listening to a popular song on the Israeli radio, when an emergency broadcast interrupted the program and broke the terrible news. A blast had ripped apart a crowded bus in Herzl Boulevard killing six people. His anxiety turned into fear when his parents didn’t return till night fall. Accompanied by his uncle and his brother, he rushed to the blast spot. They were diverted to a local hospital by the police. All the dead bodies and the injured had been dispatched there. Daniel could not find his parents among the injured. Nor was he able to identify any of the horribly disfigured dead bodies. His parents had disappeared; never to return.

Daniel shook his head to relieve himself of the gory images.
What’s happening to me?
He was not able to control the flow of thoughts in his mind. A ghastly TV footage of the aftermath of yet another blast captured his mind now. The place was Buenos Aires, Argentina. The year was 1994. A van loaded with explosives had been detonated in front of the Jewish Community Centre, killing 85 people. In the list of the deceased released by the government, he could see a familiar name – Joseph Levy, his younger brother.
Josey.
His brother had landed a job as a facilities manager in the Argentine Israelite Mutual Association building, the same place where the attack took place. Two days later, he stood at the airport looking with dazed eyes at Josey’s coffin being unloaded from a flight. With throat choking with sorrow, he opened the lid of the coffin. There was no body. It was filled with stones. A beautiful chit was placed inside, saying that Joseph Levy’s body had been completely annihilated in the explosion. This was all that remained.

You too, Josey?

Daniel closed his eyes. Surprisingly, they were not wet with emotions. In fact, he was not feeling nostalgic. There was no sorrow. Only fury. His blood was boiling with rage. He could feel enemies nearby.
Demons. Who know nothing but to inflict mortal wounds. Who have taken everything I ever had.

He sat upright on his bed and looked at his coffee table. There was a sharp knife kept beside a few apples. He picked it up.
You’ll have to pay!

S
ultan’s eyes
had not moved away from his laptop screen since the last fifteen minutes. A hacker who called himself Neo was trying to get into Le Regalia’s computer network. He wondered why every hacker kept lifting names from the movie ‘The Matrix’.

He rubbed his eyes to give them some respite. His hands and legs were twitching with impatience.
C’mon. Get into their system!

His Bluetooth headset buzzed.

“I’m in!” Neo said with a jubilant voice. “It’s time to play God.”

“Good. Can you show me the CCTV feed from the corridor in front of rooms 701-710?” Sultan asked.

“Absolutely,” Neo said with heightened excitement. “These idiots have kept remote access capability enabled in their CCTV system. And that too it is so loosely protected. That’s…”

Sultan interrupted Neo. “Don’t throw jargons at me, kid. Show me what I told you.”

“OK, boss,” Neo said dryly. “You just spoiled my orgasm.”

Two screens popped up on Sultan’s laptop. They showed live feeds from two CCTV cameras mounted at the two ends of the corridor. There was nobody on the screen.

“When will it begin?” Sultan muttered to himself with anxiety. Then he said to Neo, “I want two more feeds. One from the CCTV mounted in front of their control room and another from the hotel reception.”

It took Neo a minute to locate the feeds and embed it beside the other screens on his laptop.

Sultan looked at all the feeds simultaneously.
Everything is quiet. No untoward activity.
But all hell was going to break loose soon.
And I’ll watch when it happens.

“Can you erase this video feed from their server when we’re done?” Sultan asked.

“Oh, Yes,” Neo said, in style.

Overconfident jerk.

Sultan fought an urge to call up Tilak and tell him to check out the Israeli targets.
That might spoil the plan.
The game was completely set. It was only a matter of time now. The only worry he had was about the possible presence of Mossad agents within the hotel.
Tilak will have to take care of them.

He again focused on the laptop screen. Something odd caught his eyes. On the screen showing the CCTV footage from the reception area, he could see two known faces. He clenched his teeth and slammed his palm on the table.
How are these guys here?
He picked up his mobile immediately and dialled Tilak’s number.

“
C
all your security in-charge
,” Prakash beseeched. “Tell him it’s an emergency!”

The lady at the reception looked confused on seeing two people who had barged into the hotel.

Seema pulled out her media ID card and handed it to the lady. “We are reporters and we have information that there’s going to be an attack on the Israeli scientists who have come here for the nuclear summit. Who knows, they might be in danger already.”

The lady’s face started showing signs of panic. She called up the security officer immediately.

“He’s going to be here in a minute,” she said, placing her receiver.

“Have you been given an emergency number by the police for security related issues during the summit?” asked Prakash.

The lady nodded.

“Call them here immediately!” said Prakash restively.
Every minute is precious.
“What are the room numbers of the Israeli scientists?”

She eyed them suspiciously, and shook her head. “We’ve received a circular from the government which prevents us from disclosing the room numbers of our guests for the nuclear summit. I’m sorry; I can’t give you their room numbers till we’ve had a discussion with our security officer.”

“At least you can call them up and ask if they are safe. Can’t you?” Seema chipped in.

The lady looked away, avoiding her stare. “I need our security officer’s permission before I do anything like that. Please wait for a minute. He’s on his way.”

Both Prakash and Seema grimaced with disappointment.

T
ilak stood alongside
the door of the control room with his back towards the wall. Thirty seconds ago, Sultan’s team had blocked all the CCTV feeds to the control room. It had helped him reach here unwatched. He felt happy that his boss had even blocked the telephone system of the hotel.
The entire communication system is now crippled.

He raised his silenced Beretta in combat mode. His index finger was on the trigger. His orders were clear – ‘Kill everyone in the control room’. He saw the door being opened and got ready to act. A man in a suit emerged from the room and yelped with fear on seeing the gun in his hand.

Tilak pumped two bullets into the man’s chest. As the employee staggered and fell backwards, he placed his right foot over his punctured ribcage and bent over to check his ID.
Vishal Baruah, Head of Security. Sweet dreams.

He now yanked the door open and barged into the control room. A wall covered with LCD screens greeted him. All the monitor screens were coloured in blue due to lack of any CCTV signal.
Thanks Sultan.
His eyes went towards the corner of the room. Two men were cowering behind a couple of office chairs like scared mice. They had probably heard the screams of their boss.

Tilak fired five rounds of slugs at them, without taking any aim. The corner of the room became instantly splattered with human flesh, followed by a thick stream of blood flooding out.

“Control room cleared!” he spoke into the Bluetooth headset mounted over his ear. “What next?”

“Quickly reach the corridor where the Israelis are staying. But don’t engage till I order,” said Sultan, who was on the other side of the call.

E
li Cohen was sitting
on the bed and watching news on the TV. He was not planning to sleep today. There was too much risk. A Glock-22 and three magazines loaded with 0.40 S&W ammo kept on the bed beside him provided some consolation.

His mobile started ringing. He pounced on it.

“Code Red!” said a voice frantically. “The perpetrators are already inside. Go now!”

Eli felt the hair at his back stand up. Code Red meant the confirmation of danger. He picked up his pistol and asked, “Who told you?”

“Someone called at the emergency number of Bangalore Police two minutes ago.”

“OK. I’m on my way,” Eli said and hung up.

Are they launching an attack from inside the hotel? Bloody daredevils they are!

He cocked his pistol.

“
A
ctivity on 7
^th
floor
!” a voice came out from Sultan’s headset. It was Neo speaking.

Sultan was busy dressing himself up in tactical assault gear. The presence of Prakash and Seema in the hotel had introduced new variables into the equation. It meant only one thing.
Plan-B has to be activated.

“I see a man on the 7
^th
floor,” Neo said again, this time with increased urgency.

“I heard you,” said Sultan and ran over to his laptop.

There was some activity on one of the screens.
7
^th
floor CCTV.
A broad-shouldered man was walking down the corridor where the Israeli scientists were staying. He was moving slowly, as if sleepwalking. Sultan noticed a pointed object in his hand.
Is that a knife?

The face of the man looked vaguely familiar to him. He took out a wad of photographs from the chest harness of his combat gear. The man on the screen resembled one of the photos.
Daniel Levy.

“He’s one of the Israelis,” he said to Neo, with a smirk.

“What’s he doing?”

“He’s doing our job.”

“
G
oddamnit
! Tell me their room numbers!” Prakash asked loudly.

The receptionist was in panic and almost in tears. None of the phones at her reception were working. The security officer had still not reached. So, she had tried calling his number from her mobile phone. He didn’t pick up his phone. Neither did his two assistants sitting in the control room.

She finally relented. Sheepishly looking at her computer screen, she blurted out the room numbers of the scientists. “701 to 705.”

“I’m going there Seema,” Prakash said.

“Don’t be a fool, Prakash,” Seema protested. “What will you do there? Let the security forces handle this.”

“My whole life, I’ve covered crimes when they have already happened. It’s high time I prevent one,” Prakash said with determination. “And besides, I don’t think we’ve got enough time to wait for the security. I’ll have to go. You stay here. Explain the situation to the authorities and guide them.”

Seema wanted to oppose, but there seemed to be no other way. She acquiesced and said half-heartedly, “Call me immediately if there’s a problem. And don’t you lose your life!”

Prakash nodded and then turned towards the receptionist. “Give me an access card.”

A
saf Zahavi tried
hard to concentrate on his book. He was reading Focault’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco. Being an ardent reader, he usually completed a few chapters before going to sleep. But today’s turn of events had upset him.

He was an old man and had only a year to retire. His prostate problems had put a full-stop on his travels long ago. It was probably the last time he was out to meet the most brilliant scientists in the world. But now the opportunity seemed wasted because of politics.

“Too many warmongers out here,” he grumbled and picked up the mineral water bottle from the coffee table. He chuckled after gulping a mouthful.
Ummm… now it tastes better. Much better than the holy cow piss they had served earlier.
The previous lot of mineral water kept in his room had tasted odd. He had immediately got it replaced. He wanted plain water, not some medicinal Ayurvedic hokum.

A ring on the calling bell made him look at his watch.
11:30 PM. Who is it? Not the Mossad idiot again!

He went towards the door and looked out through the peephole.
Daniel Levy? Must’ve come for a discussion.
He had known Daniel almost ten years. In his opinion, the man was one of the most brilliant nuclear physicists in Israel. He had often had umpteen rounds of discussions with him ranging from astronomy to philosophy over pegs of whisky.

He opened the door with a smile. “What brings you here my friend tonight? Should I order some whisky?”

Daniel said nothing. His face was expressionless and eyes were wide. He slowly got inside, holding the knife he had picked from his room.

Asaf’s eyes fell on the knife and his smile disappeared instantly. “What are you up to?” he asked with a frown.

Before he could say anything else, Daniel lunged at him with his knife. Asaf tried to avoid the assault by placing his hand in the line of attack. The knife pierced his palm, evoking a painful shriek from his mouth. Daniel stabbed him on his throat next time. A spout of blood burst from his sliced carotid artery. The man kept stabbing at Asaf’s throat till he stopped reacting. Asaf’s bladder and rectum gave way as he fell backwards on the cold floor, spilling faecal fluids all over. He was completely still in a minute.

Daniel stood unflinching, unperturbed by the growing stench in the room. He wiped the knife on the bed nonchalantly and moved out of the room, walking sluggishly in a deranged manner.