Dongri to Dubai (51 page)

DCP Kamlakar thought that the duo was on its way to Delhi to eliminate some top businessman or politician. After seeking consent from his superiors, Kamlakar and his crack team of Crime Branch officers left for Delhi.

Grand Hyatt is one of the most luxurious addresses of Dubai located in Bur Dubai area. Sprawled across thiry-seven acres, the hotel seemed to be the perfect venue for the post nuptial feast for Dawood’s daughter; just seven kilometres away from Dubai’s international airport. It was widely believed that the hotel’s proximity to the airport was a clue that Dawood would definitely attend the feast, as it would be convenient for Dawood to flit in and out without any complication; if any untoward incident at all were to take place.

The D-day was approaching. And veteran field agents from various agencies had begun trickling in to Dubai. Some had managed to station themselves outside the periphery of the hotel. Enterprising journalists from India and Pakistan had booked rooms in the hotel days in advance so that they could move around the hotel without raising any suspicions.

At the
walimah
, mediapersons from various news agencies swarmed around the Grand Hyatt, but most of the Indian media was forced to stay outside the hotel. To the untrained eye, the hotel did not seem to have a huge security set-up, but it was actually an invisible fortress. A phalanx of security units remained incognito, but there were no visible signs of surveillance like CCTV cameras or metal detectors.

Time was fast running out for New Delhi. This was one of the most daring operations ever planned by the Indian intelligence agencies and it just had to go right. Dawood, who had given them sleepless nights for over two decades now, might be put to rest, conveniently, at his own daughter’s wedding.

The IB officers had now given final shape to their grand strategy. Travel arrangements were made and fake documents for Tanasha and Malhotra were prepared. They just need to be briefed and sent to Dubai. A meeting was arranged between the shooters and the former IB director. All details had been chalked out and planned to the minutest detail. All three of them were poring over a set of schematics—blueprints of a sort—of the Grand Hyatt, to evaluate the best positions at which to install shooters. They needed to have every angle covered and the importance of getting those details right was not lost on any of the trio.

The meeting was about to conclude, when Kamlakar and his officers showed up at the door. The IB officer lost his cool and began screaming at Kamlakar. But Kamlakar himself was not new to political bluster; he was a seasoned police officer who had seen such histrionics earlier. He refused to back off.

Finally, when some calls were made and Kamlakar heard from his superiors in Mumbai, he backed off. But still, he was left with Tanasha and Malhotra, both wanted men. With no other alternative, Kamlakar hauled the two to Mumbai. The bespectacled officer had to beat a retreat. A major operation had to be abandoned because of turf war; because two agencies remained in the dark about each other’s move. If only the IB had warned the Mumbai police, this embarrassing and wasteful scenario could have been averted.

The incident earned a front page mention in the
Times of India
the next day, followed by reports several language dailies the next day. The officer who was handling Tanasha and Malhotra was identified as Ajit Doval.Doval had recently retired as IB chief. Known to be the hero of Operation Blue Star in Punjab, Doval was also known to be an astute negotiator, as he had handled the hijackers of IC 814. Perhaps he was the only IPS to have received the Kirti Chakra, an award reserved for military honours.

The police and media circles were shocked at the disclosure made by the
Times of India
report. It was the first such instance of intelligence officers’ open involvement with gangsters that has come out in public.However, when
Mumbai Mirror
did a detailed follow-up of the story and got in touch with Doval for his version, he flatly denied the whole incident. ‘I was watching a football match at home,’ was all he said.

But the cat was out of the bag. That the Indian government tried to outsource the killing of Dawood and their plans had been exposed.

Finally, the most anticipated day at the Grand Hyatt had arrived. Five hundred guests had been invited to the hotel’s regal Baniyas Grand Ballroom, where they were served a sumptuous 12-course dinner. According to an IB operative, who was disguised as a chauffeur, the whole ballroom was decorated with red roses and white tulips.

The centre stage for the bride and groom was draped in white and embellished with white orchids. A luxurious green sofa sat in the middle. The most intriguing element of the feast was that guests were served piping hot
jalebis
, a uniquely Indian delicacy that is not available outside India and Pakistan, and certainly not in a hotel in Dubai.

Most of Dawood’s Mumbai-based relatives who were desirous of attending the wedding could not make it. Even his sister Haseena Parkar was denied a visa.

But there was simply no way Dawood could miss what would be one of the happiest days of his life. For the days leading up to the
walimah,
all Dawood could do was to weigh the pros and cons of attending the function. His men advised him to stay away, but he was not convinced. How could the father of the bride miss D-day?

It is unclear how and when Dawood got a whiff of IB’s plans, but he realised that attending the
walimah
could prove to be extremely risky.

Dawood, who had been present at the nikah
and all the other rituals, finally decided that he would not be at the
walimah
in person and was conspicuous by his physical absence. However, in reality, he enjoyed a somewhat omniscient presence as he watched the whole function and monitored the goings-on around the Grand Hyatt via an array of video cameras. These had been installed all over the hotel and with the help of those, he was able to identify people whose agenda clearly looked like they entailed something other than conveying their best wishes to the newlywed couple.

Miandad welcomed each and every one of the 500 guests and when people pointedly asked him if Dawood was present at the
walimah
, he only said two words, ‘
Sab aaye
[everyone’s come]’.

23

Detained in Lisbon

A
bu Salem had almost been chased out of Dubai and realised in no uncertain terms that Pakistan was no longer hospitable to him. Dawood had after all made it his own backyard. For the best part of three years, since that fateful night in Dubai when Salem decided to flee, he had been on the run. These three years had seen him running from country to country, across six continents. He had been to the US and then found himself travelling through Europe, eventually ending up in Southeast Asia.

Over these three years, he saw the world with his paramour Monica Bedi, spending a massive chunk of his time with her. Back then, Monica was a Bollywood starlet, a struggling actress from Hoshiarpur in Punjab. The rest of Salem’s time was spent with his first wife Samira Jumani in the US. Monica and Salem looked at a number of cities as potential safe havens for them to settle down in. Sadly for them, it seemed like there was no place on earth that they could go to and escape from Dawood and his associates or the police.

Salem and Monica gave due consideration to the idea of Laos as a base of operations, but quickly changed their mind when they remembered that Chhota Rajan’s base was in Cambodia, which was not all that far away. Being located that close to Rajan would not have been a smart move. Discussions about a new place to call home continued and while Europe was a heavily favoured location, Switzerland was discarded as an option. The duo would not be able to stay incognito there for too long, they decided, as it was the favourite foreign location for Bollywood shootings.

Monica was no stranger to Europe, considering the fact that she had been born and brought up in Europe and considered it her second home, if not indeed, her home. She decided that they would have to stay in a country where English was not very commonly spoken. It would also need to be a place where Salem and she could slip into the local fabric seamlessly and inconspicuously. But the question was, where?

The duo finally zeroed in on Portugal and decided to live in the picturesque capital city of Lisbon. The Mediterranean nation’s largest city would be a perfect location, they reasoned, partly due to the fact that they would not attract attention and partly because the climate was so pleasant.

Monica and Salem moved into their new home in Lisbon and for the first time in three years, had the luxury of being able to relax. After a quest that had seemed never-ending, they had finally found their ideal new home. A few blissful weeks later, Salem got a call from Karachi that turned his blood icy cold. ‘Anees
bhai ne abhi tak tera peechha nahi chhoda hai
[Anees has not stopped chasing you],’ said an emotionless, anonymous voice on the other end. Salem was very shaken by the call. Just as things had started to look up for him, his whole world had been turned upside down once again by his relentless arch enemies.

There were only two choices left before him, at this point. He could either pack his bags and continue running, thereby leaving Portugal, or he could call Anees, talk things out with him man-to-man and try to negotiate a truce. With the first option, the idea of returning to the US seemed like a good idea, but after the September 11 attacks on the World Trade Centre and Pentagon, the US was no longer safe for Indians with dubious passports.

The next idea that occurred to him was that of talking to Dawood to request Anees to let bygones be bygones and bury the hatchet. But that plan, he realised would probably lead to both Dawood and Anees trying to hunt him down, which needless to say, was not a desirable option. Just how had things got so bad with Anees, Salem wondered. There was a time when he and Salem had been almost like brothers. But now Anees was after Salem with great vengeance.

On one seemingly uneventful day, there was a knock on the door of Salem and Monica’s Lisbon apartment. The events that unfolded after this completely changed the course of their lives. The Portugal police was found standing at their doorstep and the couple was informed that they were under arrest.

It was September 2002. Salem was thrown into a jail near Lisbon. Fortunately for Monica and Salem, they were in the same jail facility for a few weeks and got to meet each other once in a while. When he was not with Monica, he was wondering how the police had gotten wind of his location. Had Anees tipped the Portuguese police off? There was a very strong possibility that this was the case, thought Salem. Soon, the rumour mill began working overtime and word got out to Salem that both he and Monica would be getting transferred. After several weeks of depression, this was the first thing to bring a smile to his face.