The Dust Will Never Settle (25 page)

BOOK: The Dust Will Never Settle
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Simran’s voice came through. Ruby sat up, surprised. Pulling herself together, she called out, ‘Please come in.’

Simran entered hesitantly. ‘The maid told me you have a headache.’ She held out a strip of tablets. ‘So I thought I would get you some asprin.’

‘Thank you.’ Ruby took them, trying to get over her surprise. ‘Thank you very much.’

For a moment the two women stood looking at each other. Ruby sensed that Simran wanted to say something; she seemed to be groping for words. Then, with a resigned shrug, she turned to leave.

At the door she turned around again. ‘It is not you I am angry with,’ she whispered. ‘Perhaps it is myself. Or Ravinder. I do not know.’ She paused. ‘I am just human, you know. I have the same fears that we all do – of losing the things we love.’

Ruby could see she was fighting hard to maintain her composure.

‘I understand how important you are to Ravinder. He is a good man who will always do the right thing. He is the kind of man who will give his life for his children.’ Simran sniffed, trying to regain control. ‘He is equally important to me. And to Jasmine.’

Ruby wanted to respond. She felt the angst of the older woman but could not find the words. A gush of emotions rendered her speechless.

‘I am sorry about what happened to your mother.’

Now the silence was deafening. ‘And I do want you to remember… no matter what happens, he
is
your father… he will always be your father… we will always be there for you. This is your home. You can stay for as long as you want.’

Then Simran was gone. Leaving behind immense pain in Ruby’s heart.

It was sixteen minutes to seven when Ravinder finally took up position in the coffee shop. He chose the table in the far corner, from where he could see the whole place.

His team of four cops were spread out – two at tables on either side of the entrance and two in the centre.

He scanned the restaurant – a large rectangular room with about twenty tables – taking it one section at a time. He saw no man or woman seated alone at any of the tables. Not that he could be sure it was just one person.

No Ruby either.
He felt relieved.

Six minutes later a tall, athletic looking Caucasian woman wearing a light cotton dress walked in. Ravinder studied her. No, her snug-fitting dress could not hold a concealed weapon… not unless a small pistol was taped to her leg.

She was still a possible. Ravinder took note of her position as she sat down at a table in the centre.

Then two men entered, separately. It only became clear they were together when they sat down at the same table.

Another cluster trooped in. It was hard to tell which of them were together and which on their own. The number of possibles now escalated.

Ravinder maintained a sharp eye on the door, but he also scanned the coffee shop periodically.

A man walked in and caught his attention: broad shoulders and muscled arms under a light green Lacoste T-shirt. Ravinder saw a colourful eagle tattooed on his right arm, only partly visible. He was slouching, as though to camouflage his sense of purpose. But his eyes gave him away. They were moving across the coffee shop swiftly and expertly, too alert to belong to someone not in the game.

Relying on his intuition, Ravinder rose and began to walk casually towards the exit. The money he had left on the table would cover the coffee he had ordered. The four-man team, seeing him get up, got ready to move too.

Willing them all to stay calm, Ravinder withdrew the iPhone he had recovered from Mark’s body and dialled the number from which the text had been received. By now he was almost level with his suspect, who was halfway into the coffee shop, his eyes still searching the tables.

Ravinder noted a puzzled expression on the man’s face, but no alarm. Yet. The suspect glanced at his watch: it was three minutes past seven. Then his mobile rang.

The shrill trilling was nearly drowned out by the hullabaloo of the coffee shop, but Ravinder, passing right by him, heard it clearly. He thumbed the iPhone, ending the call. The suspect’s mobile also stopped ringing.

Ravinder had his man.

Not Ruby! Thank God!

Swivelling around, Ravinder gestured to the nearest cop to move – a sharp and definite nod. He was hauling out his revolver as he did so. Three strides and Ravinder was behind the man.

Perhaps Ravinder had made a sound, or perhaps the man’s instincts were acute, but it was already too late.

The suspect had begun to turn when the pistol in Ravinder’s hand crashed down on his head, a powerful blow, with as much force as Ravinder dared. He did not want to kill the man. Not yet.

As the man stumbled, two of the cops closed in and pummelled him to the ground. Despite the suddenness of the assault, he fought back hard.

Ravinder felt a surge of satisfaction as they subdued him. One cop slapped a pair of handcuffs on him. The second ran an expert hand over him, checking for weapons – or suicide pills.

Clear!

RG had been taken alive.

Now we will find out what these buggers are up to…
satisfaction swept through Ravinder.
At last. At long, bloody last, the break we needed.

Within half an hour they were interrogating RG at the Chanakyapuri Police Station. Two hours later, they were still no closer to the truth.

‘He is a tough bastard.’ The SHO, Inspector Jai Ram, a short, powerfully built man with a large belly, came into his office, wiping his hands on a towel. Patches of sweat stained his rumpled uniform. Despite this, he appeared alert. ‘Name is Rafael Gerber,’ Jai Ram said the unfamiliar name slowly. ‘Not a peep out of him. Keeps insisting he’s here on holiday and wants us to call his – the German – embassy. Do you want us to give him some third degree, sir?’

Ravinder considered this. It was a sticky wicket he was playing on now. If the man turned out to be innocent, there would be hell to pay. His embassy would raise a furor.

But Ravinder knew he wasn’t.
There is no way he can be.
He made up his mind. Whether it was the Games or the Summit, the stakes were too high.
Sometimes one cannot play by the rules. The fucking terrorists never do.

‘Break the bastard,’ Ravinder commanded. ‘Do whatever it takes, but get him to talk. Fast.’

‘Leave it to me, sir. He will talk.’ Jai Ram had a cold grin on his face. ‘You go home. I will call you.’ He was twirling the ends of his moustache. He was quite a contradiction to the godly name his parents had given him.

Ravinder almost felt sorry for the German– Jai Ram was going to give him a taste of hell. Then he thought of the stakes and his heart hardened. What had to be done, had to be done.

‘No, I am staying right here.’

‘It might be a long wait, sir.’

‘No worries.’

The SHO left. This was his chance to score points with such a senior officer. Opportunities such as this came rarely.

Ravinder continued mulling. Too much was coming together too fast. He could also feel the fatigue wearing him down. He called for another cup of coffee, hoping to caffeine away his exhaustion.

He was on his fifth cup when Jai Ram returned, again wiping his hands on a towel. This one was spotted with blood, as were his hands and the front of his shirt.

‘He is talking.’ Ravinder saw a satisfied grin on Jai Ram’s face. ‘In fact, he is more than happy to talk now.’

‘Excellent. Who is he and what is he here for?’

‘He is German… a freelancer, a mercenary. The dead guy – he says his name was Mark Leahy – had called him down to India for an operation.’

‘What operation?’

‘He doesn’t know. Says he was to be briefed by Mark today and would be shown the target tomorrow.’

‘Was it the Commonwealth Games?’

Jai Ram shook his head. ‘He has no clue.’

‘Damn! Are you sure he is telling the truth?’

‘Right now, sir, the motherfu—’ Jai Ram checked himself. ‘He wouldn’t lie if his mother told him to. He doesn’t know what the operation is, but he does know that Mark has also called in two more mercenaries for it. He does not know who they are, but he was told they are from South Africa.’

That should give us something to work on
. ‘Keep the pressure on him, Jai Ram. Set up a relay of interrogators and make sure he does not get to sleep. I want to know everything he knows.’

He was pulling out his mobile as he headed out, when it rang. Prophetically, it was Mohite.

‘Govind. Just the man I need.’ Ravinder could not resist the pleasure of ensuring that Mohite would now have to be hard at work. It was because of his idiocy that they’d failed to take Mark alive. ‘The man we captured at Machan has talked.’ He brought Mohite up to speed and told him what had to be done. Then he called Ashish and briefed him as well. As long as they were not sure what the target was, both Ashish and Mohite had to be kept in the loop.

Minutes later an APB went out. The instructions were short. Every available beat constable in Delhi was hauled out.

Every hotel and lodge has to be checked – before sunrise. The two South Africans have to be found. They may be armed. They are dangerous. Exercise precaution and do not approach alone. All sightings are to be reported prior to attempting capture.

Ravinder’s car had yet to reach home when hundreds of boots hit the ground. The hunt was on.

Unfortunately neither Rafael nor the interrogator was to be blamed. Rafael Gerber had not lied. Mark
had
told him that the other two men were coming from South Africa. What he had forgotten to mention was that both Shaun Ontong and Gary Boucher were Australians. They’d been operating in South Africa, but held Australian passports.

Ruby did not stop crying for a long time after Simran left. The strip of tablets lay forgotten in her hands, mangled. Not that it mattered, they would have been useless. Her pain was beyond medication. The raging conflict had started fragmenting her, loosening the already tenuous hold of sanity on her mind.

‘Why did you lie to me, mom?’ she sobbed. ‘Why? All these years my life has been a lie.’

‘Your life has not been a lie, Ruby.’ From the depths of memory, Rehana tugged at her. ‘Don’t get taken in by all this sweet talk. Ravinder never understood me… us… our cause. For him it had no meaning. He loved the little cocoon he had created for himself. You tell me, can the life of one man be greater than the agony that hundreds of thousands of our people have suffered… continue to suffer? Can it?’

‘No! But why did you…’

‘You cannot falter now, Ruby. We have sacrificed everything to get you ready for this day. You are our revenge. I could have led a normal life too, but I chose our cause over that. Have you forgotten, Ruby? Have you forgotten what they did to us… to our family… to me?’

The thought pounded her, hammering her down memory lane again.

BOOK: The Dust Will Never Settle
2.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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