Operation Deep Strike Page 14

  “Armaan!”

  He heard a scream right behind him. Armaan looked to his left and saw one of the soldiers only a few feet away. His hand was on the trigger. Armaan was a second away from death. He immediately felt a presence nearby as Roshan rushed all his weight against him and tackled him away from the line of fire. As they fell down, a staccato of gunfire pierced the air above them. Armaan watched as Roshan trained his gun in mid-air at the assailant and shot three rounds. The automatic fire stopped; the assailant slumped to the ground.

  “You all right?” Roshan lent him a hand.

  “I’m all right.” Armaan mumbled as he got up.

  He looked into Roshan’s eyes, they were full of concern. He turned his gaze away as he realized that Roshan cared deeply for his comrades, while so far, Armaan had only cared for the mission. He had dragged them to Hyderabad and the team had uncomplainingly followed him. They had accepted his arrogance as his leadership. He shook his head. Baldev was right. This wasn’t how he had been earlier.

  “Four dead.” He heard Baldev’s voice. “Where are the other two?”

  The sound of a jeep’s motor answered him.

  “They are trying to get away.” Armaan yelled as he and Roshan raced to the front of the van.

  He saw two men accelerating away from the spot. They could escape and alert others. He couldn’t let that happen. Roshan had already come to the same conclusion and was scoping the two men. Armaan levelled his own gun.

  “I am targeting the one on the left. You take the guy on the right.” He squinted his eyes at the target and pulled the trigger.

  Both shots exploded almost simultaneously from their guns killing Sohail and Hatim instantaneously. The jeep slowed down and meandered to a stop.

  “Clean up the mess. Check if they have something useful on them.” Armaan gestured at the others.

  He looked at the road they were on. It was a dusty brown environment with a narrow strip of tarmac that made up the road. There were no buildings around and the road looked in poor condition. He estimated that it had been an hour since they left the Hyderabad CTD office which meant that they were around forty kilometres from Hyderabad. But he didn't know where they were headed. He observed the jeep in front of the van; tempted to use it, but he wasn't sure if it was the Makran jeep that had given away their location last time. They had been under surveillance twice as far as he knew. Once at the naval base and the second time at the Karachi check-post. One of them had been their undoing.

  Armaan kept looking at the jeep, as he made his decision. The ISI used to keep a closed shop; nobody outside knew what they did, and only a few within knew the full picture. With the entire security team of the ISI eliminated, there was just an outside chance that their disappearance would not be noticed for a few hours. They could retrace their way back to Hyderabad, and dump the jeep outside of the city.

  Armaan couldn't see any alternatives. They had to get away from the place as fast as possible. He saw Roshan glance at him and smile, happy to be alive. Armaan watched as Roshan rummaged through the pockets of the dead ISI men and saw a soldier happily following his leader’s orders. A few moments ago, Roshan had saved him from certain death. Most people would have been paralyzed with indecision, but Roshan had heedlessly thrown himself in danger’s way risking his life to save Armaan’s.

  Armaan remembered labelling him as a novice. No novice could display a killer instinct like Roshan had in the face of gunfire. He remembered before the Bangladesh mission, he had looked over Roshan’s record and had been impressed. Maybe he had been too critical with Roshan’s one lapse in Bangladesh, and had judged him since then solely on the basis of that event. No, Roshan deserved to be on his team. If not for him, he would have been dead by now.

  “A Pakistani Rupee for your thoughts.” Baldev stood next to him.

  Armaan looked at Baldev and his cheeks burned. Baldev was jovial as always in contrast to Armaan’s morose and curt behaviour. He had told Armaan that he would stick by his side because he was concerned by his craziness. Armaan felt a constriction in his throat. Maybe he had been crazy. Crazy enough to believe that he could focus on the mission and ignore his team members. But it couldn’t work that way. No team, no mission. Only the support of everyone involved could make the mission work.

  Armaan looked at Baldev in the eye. “I am sorry. I mistreated you and everybody else. And my foolishness jeopardised everyone’s lives.”

  He couldn’t hide his guilt from Baldev. In fact, Baldev knew it from the start, but he had let Armaan carry on hoping that he would come to his senses.

  Baldev patted his side and smiled, “It’s good to have you back.”

  That was it. There was nothing else to add. No rebukes. No I-told-you-so. Just gratitude for seeing his friend returned to his normal self. Armaan told himself that he would do whatever possible to protect Baldev, his brother-in-arms should any disaster befall them.

  But first, they had to get out of here.

  “I am thinking of using the jeep to return back to Hyderabad.” Armaan said.

  “It's a risk, but better than walking around in the dark. We should do it.”

  Armaan looked at the empty road that stretched to the horizon. “We don’t have options, it’s a bad situation. Our guns, equipment, and comms are gone. No money and no idea where we are.”

  “Well, on the bright side, our situation is much better than what it was five minutes ago in the van. We can't do anything about our equipment, so we are borrowing our ISI friends’ guns. We found some money and a mobile with GPS that shows that we are west of Hyderabad.” Baldev handed a mobile to Armaan.

  Armaan’s face broke into a grin. Baldev's perspective on the situation was better than his. “All those days of endless analysis of worst-case scenarios have made me a pessimist. So the team found guns and money? That’s good.”

  “But there's still one problem.”

  “What's that?” Armaan asked.

  “How do we contact home base?”

  “Leave that to me.” Armaan replied.

  Armaan tapped a number on the mobile that he recalled from memory. It was answered in one ring.

  Armaan introduced himself, “Home base, this is Markhor, actual.”

  Armaan's call sign was Markhor, a species of wild goat with distinctive coiled horns that was the national animal of Pakistan. He included the word 'actual' to indicate that it was the leader of the team on the line.

  “Markhor, this is Home base. What's your status?”

  Armaan spoke for a few minutes with the General, going over everything that had happened since their infil in Makran followed by the events at Ormara Naval Base and the absence of the missiles. He then talked about the lead on the missiles in Sargodha, and how they were caught on the outskirts of Hyderabad. He concluded with their escape a few minutes back.

  “Our mission has suffered setbacks. We have lost mission-critical assets and are pursued by hostile elements. Recommend future course of action.”

  General Singh said, “Our original mission was to infiltrate Ormara and secure the missiles. It was to be an in-and-out mission with the team returning back to the sub.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So, what made you decide to chase the missiles instead of returning back to the sub?”

  Armaan said, “I wanted to complete the mission, sir.”

  “Really?” The General’s tone was sarcastic. “And I think that it didn’t occur to you that your unilateral actions were a complete breach of protocol?”

  “But, isn’t the mission critical for you?”

  “Are you trying to cross-question me?” General Singh smirked. “Yes, the mission is critical, but it doesn’t mean that you are free to play cowboy. You were chosen because I trusted you. I believed you would let me know if things fall apart. You’ve seriously dented my faith in you through your actions. This mission is doomed.”

  Armaan said, “We can still salvage this, sir.”

  “How? The mis
sion is dead and buried.”

  “We can go to Sargodha and complete the mission. I know what’s at stake. Please give me the permission to proceed.”

  “You believe you can still do this?” The General’s voice was thoughtful.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Are you sure you understand the risks of continuing with the mission?”

  “Yes sir, I do.”

  “Be advised that Sargodha comes in the northern half of Pakistan. It is quite far from your current location. The further you move north, the farther you are from the coast and an emergency exfil.”

  “Yes sir, I understand the risks.”

  “While we won't be able to provide direct support, you will get logistic support from one of our contacts. He is an LTRA in Sukkur. Here's how you will get in touch with him...”

  Armaan was surprised that the General had nurtured a Long Term Resident Agent so close to their location. He shrugged off the thought as he focused on the General’s instructions for contacting the agent.

  “Good luck, Markhor.” General Singh signed off.

  “What did the General have to say?” Baldev asked as soon as the call finished. Hitesh and Roshan had also joined them.

  “We are at a decision point. If we move north, it will be difficult for the support group to assist us in real-time. The General asked me if we would like to continue the mission.”

  Roshan said, “We should continue the mission. Let us finish what we started.” The others nodded in agreement.

  “I told the General that we would like to continue the mission. But on a sombre note, you have to understand that it won't be easy, and our risks multiply exponentially with every hour we take to fulfil our mission.”

  “We have been together on all the missions, Armaan.” Baldev said. “You can count on me.”

  “I am in too.” Roshan said. “Just give me the orders.”

  Hitesh chuckled, “Without me, there will be no one to manage the technical aspects. Of course, we are in this together.”

  Armaan smiled listening to their responses. “The mission is a go.”

  Chapter 19

  “We have arrived.”

  Roshan woke up instinctively. He was sleeping in the back of the jeep after having driven north till two am. Hitesh had taken up the driving and Roshan had immediately fallen asleep. He peered around. The sun had just risen in the east and he could see a town a few kilometres ahead beyond two bridges crossing over a river.

  “Is that Sukkur?”

  “Yes.” Hitesh replied.

  Roshan shivered in the early morning chill as he tried to remember what he knew of the town. Sukkur was three hundred kilometres north of Hyderabad on the banks of the Indus River in Sindh province. It wasn't on their list of must-memorize locations, and especially not for this mission. The only other thing Roshan remembered was that Sukkur was close to Pano Aqil, a forward base missile launch site. Roshan rubbed his arms wondering how many unknowns they had to contend with before their mission was accomplished.

  An hour later they were in front of a Dry Cleaners shop. Roshan watched as Armaan took out a trouser they had purchased from a nearby store, wrote a message on the inside of its pocket and handed it over to Roshan.

  “Come. We have to launder this pant.” Armaan walked to the shop followed by Roshan.

  The shop was small with ironed clothes arranged in one corner, and bundles of messy clothes in another corner. In the centre of the shop was a table and an old man was meticulously ironing the clothes on it. Armaan waved to the man.

  “It's not even 8 am and you are working in the shop?”

  The old man looked at him and smiled. “I have been up since 5 am. My worker is on leave and I have to do the ironing by myself.”

  Armaan took the trouser from Roshan and placed it on the counter. “I have an interview today. Would it be possible for you to iron this urgently?”

  The old man took the cloth. “Urgent orders cost double. Are you okay with that?”

  “Yes, that's fine by me. When can I get it back?”

  “Come back at 11 am.”

  As they exited the shop, Roshan asked, “What was that about?”

  “The proprietor of the shop is the intermediary between our contact in Sukkur. The General gave me the address of the Dry Cleaner shop. The conversation we had was a coded sequence that validated both parties. I have written a message on the inside pocket of the trouser requesting contact with the Long Term Resident Agent. Either the proprietor will send the message, or the LTRA will come to check if he has messages for him. Once he receives the message, he will write a reply on the other pocket. The process is almost foolproof. Let’s see how the agent responds.”

  They took up accommodation in a rundown hotel and paid in cash. Armaan ordered everyone to sleep. They hadn't had much sleep the past couple of days, and Armaan knew the value of a rested and refreshed unit.

  Roshan lay down on the bed and as he closed his eyes, he heard Armaan admonishing Baldev for still sauntering around. By the time Baldev was ordered to his assigned bed, Roshan had already fallen asleep.

  When Roshan woke up it was already afternoon. He heard Baldev talking with Armaan.

  “The graveyard at three pm?”

  “Yes, that's what was mentioned in the reply. It is an open area. Very difficult to conceal oneself, both for him and for us. If there's a deception, it can be spotted easily. It's a sign of trust as well.”

  Roshan glanced over at his watch and cursed. His watch was no longer there, courtesy of the CTD. He didn't know the time. He got up and looked at the wall clock. It was noon. He had been asleep for four hours.

  “Having said that, we need to be alert.” Baldev continued talking.

  “Yes, we will be there by two pm and scout the area first.” Armaan noted that Roshan was awake. “Roshan, you and Hitesh will be the backup team for today's rendezvous. Let's get moving ASAP. I will explain the details on the way.”

  The old man straggled with heavy steps as he walked alongside Shikarpur road, dragging his broomstick behind him. People passed by him in their daily routine ignoring him. And why wouldn't they? He looked like just another common labourer that was earning his daily bread. His clothes were unkempt and torn in few places, his hair was dishevelled and he had an air of lethargy around him.

  But for Sultan, it was just another day in a well-rehearsed role of espionage. Sultan had trained himself to hide behind multiple facades; from a seasoned angel investor to a lowly wage earner, he knew how to fit into the role that was required for the moment.

  Sultan visited the Dry Cleaner shop every day, and the proprietor gave him 'messages' when they were available. The messages were in the form of clothes that he would take home. Usually stitched on a piece of cloth, or directly written on them would be messages that would tell him of his next steps. Even if the authorities put a tab on him, they would never be able to know that the Dry Cleaners shop was the dead drop.

  Today's message however was different.

  It involved an actual 'contact'. It was quite different from the one-way instructions that he received. He wasn't sure if it was genuine. It was unconventional and risky.

  But Sultan couldn't ignore it. If it was a genuine request, it must be really important for the other party to directly contact him. Eventually, he had decided he would go undercover; the role of a graveyard sweeper wouldn't attract any attention.

  As Sultan walked across the innumerable chawls that crisscrossed through the locality, the space in front of him widened out revealing the expanse of the Sukkur graveyard. At two hundred metres in width and nearly a kilometre in length, it was the biggest open space in Sukkur. Sultan walked on the periphery of the graveyard with satisfaction. It was exactly like he remembered. There was no place to hide here. He bent down and started sweeping the ground, occasionally stretching his back as he looked at the roads that led into the ground. There were only three routes to the graveyard and he intended to keep an eye on all o
f them.

  Sultan immediately spied them. Two men who were a bit too muscular to be anything other than military. As he watched, he saw the men make a furtive glance behind them. He looked at where they were looking and espied another two men taking shelter in the shadows of one of the chawls at the edge of the graveyard. He looked to see if there were any others, but there weren't.

  Now, the only question that remained was whether these people were genuine or a threat? Sultan used his broom and languidly swept the ground inching closer to the men, observing them. He saw that the men were looking warily around them every few minutes. It wasn't the look of a hunter, but rather the hunted. They were worried about being out in the open. And that reassured him. Law authorities wouldn't act the way these men did.

  He relaxed and approached them.

  “I am Sultan, your contact in Sukkur.”

  One of the men replied, “I am Armaan, and this is Baldev. We were told you could help...”

  Gorbat hung up the phone with a heavy heart. He glanced around the almost deserted foyer of the Hyderabad CTD office as he debated on calling back. It was eight o’clock in the evening and his son had refused to speak with him. And his wife had been equally vocal. She chided him for being absent for his son's tenth birthday.

  “How could you? All my friends were asking about you? I had planned for his birthday weeks in advance, and you promised you would keep your duties aside. And it wasn't just any other birthday, it was his tenth birthday. All I had asked was for one day, just one day to spend with your family, and this is what I get. Forget about me, you even broke the poor child's heart. Now, what are you going to do?”

  Gorbat had no answer to the barrage of criticism raining upon him. He understood her point of view; he hadn't been present for his little boy's birthday. He tried to reason with her and that's when she had hung up.

  His wife was right. It had been all for nothing. He decided that he would take the next train back to Quetta. He checked the railway train schedules. The next train to Quetta was the Bolan Mail from Kotri junction at 9:05pm, but it had been delayed by three hours and would leave at midnight.