PRIMAL Mirza (A PRIMAL Series Novella) (7 page)

 

CHAPTER
9

 

RAW
HEADQUARTERS, NEW DELHI

 

The director paced the sleek
corridors of RAW’s headquarters. He had spent the morning in a budget hearing
reassuring fat cats that their precious funds were spent frugally. It
frustrated the hell out of him and left him in a foul mood. He hated wasting
time. Yet these corrupt nepotistic morons demanded he account for every rupee
when they were lining their own pockets. Entering his office, he saw Major
Jayaram waiting and bit back a curse.

Jayaram
jumped to his feet. “Sir, I have an update on the mission.”

“Proceed.”
The director moved around his desk and upon sitting, poured a cup of tea from
the steaming pot before him.

“Sir,
the para commandos hit the objective at 0500 hours this morning. They seized
the camp and killed in excess of eighty terrorists and an ISI training team.
Upon extraction our air support was forced to shoot down a–”

“Yes,
yes, I’ve already seen the incident report from the Air Force. The Prime
Minister was less than pleased; but that’s not your concern. Tell me about the
terrorists.”

“Our
SPEC-B detachment was able to gather intelligence. Unfortunately, we believe
the terrorist team had departed several hours earlier.”

Frowning,
the director placed the cup down. “Go on.”

“They
got a description of a van. Late last night, it passed through the border
crossing point near Kargil carrying five Pakistanis. A surveillance team picked
it up and tracked them.”

“And
then?”

“We
lost them on the outskirts of New Delhi. They’re still searching now.”

“Fucking
Pakistanis!” The director slammed his fist down so hard tea splashed from his
cup.

“Sir,
we have the IDs these guys used at the border and photos of them. My SPEC-B
detachment can hunt them down.”

“Why
the hell weren’t they stopped at the border?”

“The
decision was made to track them and locate their support network.”

“So
we’ve just let a bunch of bloody terrorists into the country? And to make
matters worse, the problem’s now out of my jurisdiction.” Scowling, he raked
his fingers through his hair. “I’m going to have to hand this over to the
NSG
.”

“Sir,
my men will arrive here this evening. They can marry up with the surveillance
team. If we give them a little time, they’ll find the terrorists.”

“No.”
The director shook his head. “The surveillance team will have to stand down.
NSG has the mandate for domestic ops. Tell your boys their role is purely
liaison. Have them report to the Delhi NSG compound and liaise directly with
the commander.”

“Sir,
you know the Black Cats are corrupt and inept. My sister is a prosecutor with
CBI. She can–”

“An
attack is imminent. The NSG has jurisdiction, not to mention direct access to
the Delhi police and domestic intelligence networks. Corrupt and inept be
damned, by law we have to work with them.”

“Very
well, sir. I’ll inform my men.”

 

***

 

CHANDNI
CHOWK

 

Atal found a policeman at a
street stall a few blocks from where the bug-eyed Pakistani had hit him. He was
hungry and sporting a swollen face but also had something of value. Something
he could trade for cash. Information.

“Officer,
how are you this morning?”

The
turban-wearing policeman looked up from his newspaper and put down his coffee.
A scowl marred his bearded features. “I would be better if you weren’t
interrupting my breakfast.”

Atal
lowered his head. “I’m sorry, sir. But I have information. Very good
information. Make you a big man.”

“What
is it?”

Atal
held out his hand. “Ten rupee.”

He
dropped his paper on the table. “I should flog you for begging.” He paused and
stared at Atal’s face. “It looks like someone already beat me to it. Now run
along.”

“OK,
eight, officer, eight rupees. A bargain, I tell you. Low, low price.”

The
policeman turned his attention back to his paper.

“OK,
OK, five. But at this price I’m giving it away.”

He
kept reading.

“Two?
Two rupees for information? Less than your coffee. Good deal. It’s like you’re
stealing it from me.”

The
policeman reached into his pocket. “You can have my loose copper.” He held out
a few coins.

Atal’s
hand darted out and grabbed them. “Five Pakistanis came this morning. They stay
with Neeraj’s gang.”

“That’s
interesting but hardly anything new.” He gave Atal a sad look and went back to
his paper.

Atal
shrugged his shoulders and left the officer to his breakfast. He knew a place
where he could turn the coins into a feast. He was so focused on the prospect
of eating that his normally sharp eyes did not spot one of Neeraj’s men. The
filthy criminal with the knotted beard sat with a beggar’s cup not more the
five yards away.

 

CHAPTER
10

 

NSG
COMPOUND, NEW DELHI

 

Sonia Jayaram was on
the phone, sitting in the back of her Mercedes staff car. “I knew it. No one
wanted to listen, but I knew it.”

“We think the terrorists are in the Chandni
Chowk slums,” said her brother Major Jayaram. “This is all off the record,
Sonia. The only reason I’m telling you is so you’ll share any intelligence my
men may need.”

“Your men? What about the
NSG
? I’m on
my way to meet Colonel Prasad now.”

“Do not mention this conversation. The intel
will already have come through operational channels that doesn’t include your
bureau. My operatives will conduct a handover and then it will be up to Prasad.”

“Fine, but I already knew there was an ISI
support network in New Delhi. This just proves it. NSG needs to jump on this
immediately and arrest the key suspects.”

Her brother snickered. “The Black Cats are just
a bunch of testosterone fueled muscle-heads. The only reason we’re letting them
in on this is because it’s their turf.”

“They mean well. Just need to be reminded they
work for the police, and as police they need to gather evidence.”

“Good luck with that. I’ve got to run. Let me
know if you hear anything from the Bureau side of things.”

“I will.”

“Stay safe.”

“You, too, brother.”

Sonia hung up as her driver turned the Mercedes
into the security checkpoint at NSG’s New Delhi compound. This was the home of
the capital’s Rapid Response Platoon; heavily armed commandos responsible for
immediate reaction to a terrorist threat. She wound down her window and
identified herself to a black-clad officer as others searched under the car
with mirrors.

Once security procedures were completed, the
heavy gate rolled opened. They drove in and pulled to a stop in front of the
colonial-era building. Sonia thought it was one of the most beautiful in New
Delhi. An ivy-covered mansion that harkened back to an era when India was a
British colony.

She watched as a sharply dressed commando marched down the
stairs, and decided the maintenance costs were probably half the amount they
spent on gym memberships and uniforms. When the driver opened her car door, she
walked up the stairs into the lobby and stopped at the reception desk. “Chief
Prosecutor Jayaram to see Colonel Prasad.”

The officer looked her up and down.

Sonia wore minimal makeup with her hair pulled
back in a tight bun. An attempt to minimize her sexuality, thwarted by the
attractive figure she cut in her tailored skirt and jacket.

“Just a minute, ma’am.” He dialed Prasad’s aide
to confirm the appointment.

She smiled as Lieutenant Colonel Prasad
appeared in the foyer. As usual, he was immaculately dressed. His black uniform
had razor sharp creases. His hair was slicked back. She wondered how much time
he spent in front of a mirror each day.

“Sonia, such a pleasure to see you again.”

She canted her head while preserving the façade
of enjoying his company. “And I you.” Her heels clicked against the polished
marble stairs as they ascended the three flights to his office. “I’ve always
envied your building. It’s so beautiful. Must require substantial upkeep to
maintain it in such pristine condition.”

He stood back and gestured for her to enter his
office. “You wouldn’t believe how much. Unfortunately, it comes out of the city
council budget and they won’t let me spend it on ammunition or equipment. It
seems keeping up appearances is more important than actual capability.” He
directed her to a chair before taking a seat behind his desk. “Would you like a
drink?” He gestured to the bookcase. Perched among the photos, awards, and
plaques was a bottle of scotch.

She raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it a little early
for that?”

“You’re probably right. So what new intelligence
have you uncovered?”

“I thought we could start with what I mentioned
the other day.”

“The ISI network?”

“No. My office is bothered by how your men
handle evidence.” She settled back in her chair and watched as his eyebrows
rose, almost reaching his hairline.

“The way my men handle evidence?”

“Yes. It’s making prosecution difficult. It
seems everything they touch is mishandled or simply not recorded. In the
terrorism trial I’m working on, it’s proven to be a significant issue.”

“That’s because we fight dangerous men. There’s
not always time for rubber gloves and little bags.”

“I understand that. However, if your men can
give me better evidence, then I can ensure the criminals and terrorists you
capture go away for life, not just a few years.”

He sighed. “Unfortunately we’re mainly used as
a blunt instrument when armed criminals need to be dealt with, permanently.
That said, we are improving.”

“I’m not saying your men are incompetent, far
from it. But given that they’re officially deputized police handling very
sensitive cases, my office thinks they could benefit from some basic training
in evidence management.”

“You may be right. It hadn’t been something
we’ve placed emphasis on. Our training is focused on combat, weapons handling,
close quarter battle.”

“Yes and their skills in that area are beyond
reproach. With help from the forensics department any shortfalls in evidence
handling can quickly be resolved.”

“I’ll think about it.” He smiled broadly. “But
only if you agree to have dinner with me to discuss the details.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I’m very busy
at the moment with the trial. Not to mention I’m still trying to convince the
investigators to look into the terrorist support network.”

“Ah, yes, your ISI network theory.”

“Correct, I’m positive it exists. The capital
has hundreds of organized crime gangs. If ISI were able to influence even one,
the terrorists would have the necessary resources to infiltrate and conduct an
attack.”

“True. And I wouldn’t put it past those Paki
bastards. I have my own network amongst the gangs. I’ll put out some feelers.”

“That would be appreciated.”

“Think nothing of it. Uncovering this cell
would send a wake-up call to the fat cats in the capital. Maybe then, I’d get
funding for training. I might even get to run some real counter-terrorism
operations.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” She rose
from her chair. “I must apologize for the fleeting visit, but I have to leave
for another appointment.”

“I think we should definitely discuss our
cooperation in more detail. Dinner would be the perfect forum.”

She contemplated the offer. Prasad wasn’t an
unattractive man, and it might help achieve her objectives. As quickly as the
idea entered her head, it was discarded. She hadn’t got this far by relying on
her looks and wasn’t about to start now. “Until this trial is over, Colonel,
I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. I have a little too much on my plate at the
moment.”

“We’re all busy, Sonia.” He glanced at his
Rolex and gestured for the door. “In fact, I have another meeting right now. If
you don’t mind, I’ll have one of my men show you out.”

“I can show myself out. Thank you for your
time, Colonel.” She made for the door.

“One more thing.”

She stopped and turned to face him.

He looked her directly in the eye as he spoke.
“With regards to the training of my men.”

“Yes.”

“This is your first warning. Keep your nose out
of my business.”

Her gaze locked with his and a shiver ran up
her spine. Turning, she left, quietly closing the door. Her outward demeanor
remained calm until she was hidden behind the tinted windows of her Mercedes
E-Class. “The man is an arrogant, chauvinist pig,” she said to herself, her hands
clenched on her lap.

Her gaze drifted up and she caught the driver’s
surprised expression. Angry at her outburst she faced the window as he guided
the luxury sedan out the gates and onto the street.

She now knew Prasad was in no way interested in
her concerns. His interest in her was purely physical. Unfortunately many men
in Delhi were like the NSG commander. They saw her only as an object to be
conquered not an experienced prosecutor.

As her car headed back to her office, neither
Sonia nor her driver noticed the scooter that had been tailing them since they
had left her apartment that morning.

 

***

 

Prasad watched Sonia’s car
leave. He had another meeting, just not the kind she thought. With a smirk, he
turned from the window to the NSG captain seated facing his desk. “She might be
a hot piece of arse, but she’s too pig-headed.”

Captain
Roshan laughed. “You’re chasing your tail with that one, boss. She’s never
going to fuck you.”

Roshan
was one of Prasad’s closest associates. He was also a hulking brute of a man
who looked like he was about to explode out of his shirt. Scruffy and unshaven,
he ran the unit’s covert operations squad. A tight-knit group of commandos who
rarely donned uniforms and occasionally handled Prasad’s less than legal
activities. Together, the pair supplemented their meager incomes by
strong-arming the criminals of New Delhi.

Prasad
dropped onto his chair, leaned back and crossed his legs on his desk. “Ever
since she started investigating those fucking Pakis, she’s turned into a
fanatic.”

“Like
a dog with a bone, boss. Too bad it isn’t yours.”

“Let’s hope she doesn’t dig too deep.”

“Doesn’t
help that she’s on the money. Did you see the message from RAW?”

“About
a terrorist group in New Delhi? Do you think it has any substance?”

“I’m
not sure. But they’re taking it seriously enough to send a liaison team.”

“Wouldn’t
be the first time they’ve gotten spun up over nothing.”

“Do
you want me to call our friends in the Intelligence Bureau?” Roshan asked
referring to the agency responsible for domestic security intelligence.

Prasad
stood and walked over to the bookshelf and poured two tumblers of scotch. “No,
let’s leave them out of this.”

“Then
we should definitely put the screws on Neeraj. He’s been on ISI’s payroll for
years.”

“True.
I’m surprised we haven’t heard from that cockroach.” Prasad handed over a glass
and returned to his chair. “Well, if there’s a terrorist cell in town we could
certainly use it to our favor.”

“How
do you mean, boss? Get in and wrap them up early?”

“No.
If we pick them up like last time, the bureaucrats won’t fix our funding. We
need something to grab their attention.”

His
friend nodded in agreement. “We let them blow something up. Then swoop in and
deal out some justice Black Cat style. I like it.”

“Exactly.
We’ll need to play this very carefully. We can use the RAW liaison officers as
fall guys should it all go to shit.”

“That,
I do like the sound of. Those self-righteous bastards deserve to be taken down
a notch or two.”

“Have
they turned up?”

“Not
that I’m aware.”

“Typical.”
Prasad downed his drink with a gulp.

Pull
that piece of shit Neeraj in. We need to have a chat.”

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