Desi Train

Chapter Two : The Hunter is focused, the Hunted… Sly

Darshuk, Afghanistan. 2am.

The radio crackled in one of the mud houses of the village. The sentry had been enjoying a hookah, a Kalashnikov by his side. He rushed in to get the message.

A few minutes’ later, two armed men in their late twenties were running towards the east. In about fifteen minutes they were at the outpost of the village. The outpost was used to watch out for American troop movement and relay warnings to the hiding members of the Taliban in the village of Darshuk.

The men at the outpost today had halted the traveler. The signature on the inside of his ivory pendant confirmed his true identity. They radioed the village of his arrival and waited for the two guards to receive the traveler.

The two armed men bowed and took the reins of the horse, the traveler was riding on, and started walking back to the village.

They stopped in front of a slightly bigger house than the adjoining ones. About half a dozen people stood in the courtyard. The two escorts helped the traveler off the horse and shouldered his body weight as he barely managed to walk into the house.

Harkat Ul-Daulah sat on a Persian carpet. An oil lamp lighted the room. Ul-Daulah was one of those citizens in Afghanistan who provided a safe conduit for the people of Taliban and Al-Qaida. Junctions. That’s what people like Ul-Daulah were called. Terrorists running from the law would halt at these junctions for a while before moving to the next.

The traveler stepped into the room and with his weak body tried to bow to Ul-Daulah. Ul-Daulah got up and embraced the traveler.

“Allah have mercy… you are sick Raffiq”

Raffiq sat on the floor and pushed himself towards the walls to rest his back on.

“Fifteen months. It’s been fifteen months”

Ul-Daulah kissed his holy beads.

“The games of Allah are not for us to understand… Rest dear brother. We will speak tomorrow. The American troops are close by, but they won’t reach Darshuk in another two days.”

There was no answer.

Raffiq had passed out again.

…………………………………………………………………

“Dad is it called Mumbai or Bombay?”

Andy smiled as he adjusted the seat belt of his six year old daughter.

“It’s Mumbai dear. Though they used to call it Bombay once.”

“Umm… I like Bombay better.”

“Then you shall call it Bombay” – it was Christina who tucked the blanket over their only child…

“Now go to sleep and when you wake up, we will be in Bombay”

Andy switched off the light and moved to his seat next to Christina. She took his arm and folded hers around it, while letting her head rest on his shoulder.

“Thank you”

Andy looked at her. “For what hon?”

“For taking both of us to your roots”

Andy smiled. “Roots? Hell. I’ve barely been to India myself. You know what Sheila was saying the other day?”

“Uhuh… what did she say?”

“That you as an American are more of an Indian than I am”

Christina laughed. “That’s because you are more American than I am”

“See we were just meant to be for each other. An American who’s an Indian at heart and an Indian who’s American by soul”

She smiled and closed her eyes as she snuggled further into him. Andy kissed her forehead and went back to reading the various reports of the day his secretary had emailed him.

The seat belt sign went on as the pilot announced that “We are experiencing a bit of a rough weather”

The very next instant the plane experienced a huge bump… the scotch in Andy’s right hand nearly spilled over…

…………………………………………………………………

The road was bumpy and dusty. Andy Raheja covered his nose with a shawl so as to not breath the fine sand particles while holding one of the wooden planks of the truck’s wall to keep his body from falling out of the vehicle.

They had been traveling in the army truck for four hours. Andy checked his watch. It was 2am. He looked around. KC, Planman and DJ were doing their own thing. Checking their automatics, testing their night vision and other electronics, while talking to Bill Rosedrum, who stationed himself at the landing strip and set up his communications gear.

Bill was talking to 5 different people located in five different cities in Afghanistan, Pakistan, Yemen and United States.

KC muttered a “10 4” and took his ear piece out. He looked a Andy.

“We’ll be in Darshuk in about an hour”

Andy merely nodded. His hands moved to check for the Beretta tucked in his holster. He had never used a gun before. Except for target practice, which Bill Rosedrum had insisted upon, before embarking on the journey. Andy adjusted the Beretta and looked out at the dusty road coming out from the under the truck and disappearing into the darkness.

I want to look in your eyes. I want to look in your eyes before I kill you. I want to see fear in your eyes. I want to see the pain in your eyes before I kill you

Andy closed his eyes. He heard a faint sound of helicopters whizzing in the sky.

…………………………………………………………………

“It’s called Bhelpuri”

“Beelpulee”

“Bhelpuri”

“Bale polly”

“Bhelpuri”

“Belpuli”

“That’s close” Andy smiled as he served his daughter another spoon of Bombay’s famous fast food.

“Ssss it’s too hot dad!”

Andy started laughing and pushed a glass of Coke towards his daughter. Christina was taking pictures of the Gateway of India from the balcony of their hotel room at the Taj.

“Honey, tell me the story of the Taj Mahal again”

Andy walked behind Christina and embraced her. “It was built by a Mughal Emperor in the memory of his wife. Tragically he spent his last days watching the Taj from a tiny window in his prison cell”

“Why was he in prison Daddy?”

“Cause he had an evil son called Aurangzeb”

“Ola ola olangdeb”

“Aurangzeb”

“Olongeb”

“Aurangzeb”

“Ozeb”

“Aurangzeb”

“Why do Indians have difficult names dad?”

“You honey are half Indian too” Christina looked over Andy’s shoulder to remind her daughter’s origin… she smiled and continued “Do you remember what your name means dear?”

“Yes”

“What?”

“It’s the name of a great Indian saint who fell in love with God.”

“Good job Meera”

“Dad, where are we going next?”

“We are going to a famous market where they sell nothing but jewelry. So we can buy some for you and your mom”

Christina pinched Andy’s cheeks “Yeah and so that Dad can see beautiful Indian women decked in beautiful jewelry and realize what he’s been missing”

Andy playfully knocked his head on Christina’s.

“Yeah. I’ve been missing something but it’s not there at the jewelry market.”

“So where is it my dear hubby? More importantly what is it?”

Andy bent down and kissed the stomach of a 3 month pregnant Christina. “This. A baby brother for Meera”

“Am I getting a brother Dad?”

…………………………………………………………………

The commandos were battle ready. Some had their eyes closed saying a silent prayer, while some stared at nothingness inside the 4 choppers flying over the hills of countryside Afghanistan. JD Morgan checked his watch. In 4 minutes they would be hovering over their destination.

About two hours ago Morgan was ready to call it a day at the base camp in Kabul when he received the orders. Twenty minutes later, his men stood before him going over the plan of attack. It was going to be a typical surprise, shock and wipe ‘em out kind of an attack. Surprise them, force in, take no prisoners, clean up and go back to the base. Total estimated time of execution: Sixty minutes tops.

Morgan patted his breast pocket and took his wallet out. It had the picture of his two daughters and his wife. As usual, before every attack, Morgan kissed the picture and said a silent prayer to Jesus Christ and Mother Mary.

The pilot looked back and screamed on top of his voice so he could be heard in the midst of the heavy sound of the chopper. “3 MINUTES TO DARSHUK”

Morgan nodded. He looked at his men. “GET READY BOYS. LET’S KICK SOME TALIBAN ASS”

Twelve pairs of hands suddenly started moving over their weapons and battle gear.

Morgan’s team along with three other commando teams was flying to Darshuk in four choppers. Their mission was to search and destroy the Taliban men, information about which, Morgan had received roughly two hours ago.

…………………………………………………………………

HE sat on a bed with HIS eyes closed and a faint smile on HIS lips. HIS head was cocked slightly to the left and a bit upwards.

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The housewives of the neighborhood were performing aarti to HIM. They held a small stainless-steel plate over which they had lighted a small oil lamp. Each took turns to hold the plate and circle it, as a form of worship, in front on HIM.

They ended the aarti by bowing infront of HIM, touching HIS feet on their forehead.

HE looked at the bed sheet that covered the bed.

“Kanta… are these new bedsheets that you have bought?”

Kanta bowed and smiled. There was sweetness in her heart each time HE spoke to her. It was true, though, for everyone, HE spoke to.

“Yes BABAJI… I bought it yesterday”

HE suddenly got up and rushed out of the room. The housewives dropped all that they held and rushed after him. The men simply followed.

Kanta’s husband Raju was the first to speak. “BABAJI, what are you looking for?”

HE looked at Raju with the sweetest smile that melted all of Raju’s hidden and unhidden pains away. HE then spoke in his booming voice “I WANT TO TELL BRIJ THAT YOU BOUGHT A NEW BEDSHEET… BRIJ BRIJ BRIJ WHERE ARE YOU DONKEY?”

Brij rushed in from the kitchen “BABAJI, I was preparing tea for you.”

“LEAVE IT.” HE pointed at the housewives. “THESE MAs WILL TAKE CARE OF IT. LET’S GO”

Suddenly the whole house turned topsy turvy.

“No BABAJI. PLEASE STAY”
“BABAJI… PLEASE STAY”
“BABAJI… HAVE TEA ATLEAST”

HE looked back at them “You all are so unkind to me.” and HE started laughing.

Two ladies dropped at HIS feet holding it tightly “BABAJI… please stay until the morning”

HE lightly tapped the back of their heads. “OK OK, I’LL HAVE SOME TEA AND THEN LEAVE”

HE walked back into the room. Brij took a blanket and wrapped it around HIM. HE was watching the hills of Nainital from the window of the house.

“BABAJI, where to from here?”

“Almorah. The pujari of the temple… Hanumant said that he wasn’t feeling feel these days. Let’s see how he is doing and see how well kept MY Hanumanji is”

“Please don’t go BABAJI” – the men and women sitting on the floor in the room pleaded.

HE turned away from the window and looked at one of them sitting closest to the bed. HE started rubbing HIS chin and started laughing.

“ULLU KA PATTHA. WHERE AM I GOING? I AM EVERYWHERE YOU IDIOT. WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!!!”

Then HE suddenly looked at the next person and tapped his head.

“I WON’T LET YOU ALL GO EVER. HOWEVER BAD AND EVIL YOU MAY BE. OK I WON’T GO IF YOU TELL ME HOW FAR IS PESHAWAR FROM HERE?”

“Huh?”

HE started laughing hard… “WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP, THE BIRD HAS FLOWN BUT YOU WILL CATCH IT. NOT TODAY NOT TODAY… WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP ULLU KA PATTHA WAKE UP WAKE UP”

Brij smiled as he stood next to the bed. The games HE played. The games HE played, will never be understood by beings so mere. The blanket slipped off HIS shoulder and Brij rushed to put it back on, while the men and women in the room laughed each time HE screamed WAKE UP…

…………………………………………………………………

“RAFFIQ WAKE UP RAFFIQ WAKE UP RAFFIQ RAFFIQ”

Raffiq opened his eyes to see Ul-Daulah standing next to him.

“RUN… THE AMERICANS ARE COMING!!! RUN… WITH Afzal. He’ll take you to Qadri’s safe house in Peshawar.”

Raffiq got up and rushed behind Afzal with whatever little energy remained in his body. He could hear the choppers. His brains calculated an approximate distance of 4 miles that the choppers were from Darshuk. The two men mounted the horses and rushed out of Darshuk.

Raffiq didn’t look back until they had crossed the outpost of Darshuk where he had stood a few hours ago. In the moonlight he could see four choppers now hovering over Darshuk, as commandos started dropping down on the grounds of Darshuk. The sound of machine gun fire started echoing in the hills surrounding Darshuk.

Allah… save your men. He muttered a silent prayer.

“RAFFIQ don’t stop, lets hit it”

Raffiq turned towards Afzal and both started racing their horses southwest, towards Pakistan.

…………………………………………………………………

“NO NO NO NO…” KC was going ballistic over the microphone

“Desert Saints have raided our target.”

Andy got up and walked towards KC as DJ muttered “Shit!”. Planman immediately opened his map and started poking into it. “WE SHOULD BE THERE IN 15 MINUTES” he screamed.

Andy couldn’t believe this.

“What happened???”

KC passed him another earpiece. It was Bill Rosedrum at the other end, who had just passed on the info.

“What’s going on, Bill? I thought the West side troops wouldn’t be entering Darshuk in another 48 hours”

“Andy… listen to me. It’s the Desert Saints. They had intel on Taliban in Darshuk. And they just went in. We can’t do a darn thing about it. I’m glad my contact in Washington at least found the time to pass on this intel as soon as he received it.”

Andy looked at KC “So what now?”

KC offered his frank opinion, as always, “Darshuk will pretty much be flattened in the next 15 – 20 minutes. That is if the Taliban isn’t in large numbers… I don’t think our target will be there. He’s too precious to be kept in there. They must have packed him off as soon as they heard the choppers.”

“It would be idiotic to go in when DS is going pow wow” Planman said without looking up from his map.

“Listen guys give me 15. One Five. One of our guys is a DS platoon commander. Morgan. Andy, if you remember, he was the guy in Washington…”

“YES YES I REMEMBER. GET IN TOUCH WITH HIM”

“I sure will try my best. Park yourselves at the 36/26 point marked on the map.”

Andy took his earpiece out and handed it to KC.

DJ tapped their Afghan driver and started giving him instructions.

Planman had not looked up from the map. He was still searching for something. What it was, Andy had no idea. The adrenalin flowing high in his body had reached an anticlimax, frustrating him. He beat his fist on the wall of the truck. “DAMN IT!!!”

He walked back to the edge of the truck and took his seat. Run Asshole. Run. I’ll chase you to the end of the fucking earth. Run Motherfucker

…………………………………………………………………

“Daddy”

“Yes sweetheart”

“When is my brother going to come?”

“In another six months dear”

“Daddy”

“Yes sweetheart”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s sleeping”

“Where Daddy?”

“In God’s lap”

“And he will wake up in six months?”

“Yes dear”

“Daddy, that’s not fair. Mom waked me every morning. Why can’t I sleep for long like my brother?”

…………………………………………………………………

“Ask him where did he go?” Morgan’s voice was firm.

The translator barked out in Pushto to the terrorist on the floor. The terrorist’s right leg was shattered by a grenade the commandos had lobbed in the house.

Grimacing in pain, the terrorist slowly muttered something back to the translator.

Morgan didn’t need any translation. The words were very clear. He turned his mouth towards the handset he held in his left hand.

“Rosedrum, we have the coordinates of your target”

…………………………………………………………………

The beep came in exactly fifteen minutes.

“Guys… turn back. Our man’s escaped. But Morgan’s got info on where he is headed”

Andy paused and then spoke “Where is he headed to Bill?”

“Andy. It’s Peshawar. Come back. We are going to Peshawar”

KC waved his finger in the air. “Turn around boys. We are going back to base and then to Peshawar”

Planman finally looked up and addressed KC “He’ll be there in 72 hours. We’ve got to block him from leaving Peshawar. If he escapes us in there, we are looking at India where he will most probably run to. And if he reaches India, we can spend the rest of our lives searching him and yet not find him”

“WE WON’T. WE WILL FUCKING FIND HIM” Andy screamed “THAT’S BECAUSE HE WILL DIE AT MY HANDS HE WILL FUCKING DIE AT MY HANDS”

KC moved towards Andy and held him by his shoulders. “Sit down. Take a rest Andy. We’ll get him”

Andy sat down and looked out of the truck. Too tired to battle the emotions kicking inside him, he let lose and rested his back against the wall of the truck. He closed his eyes. And saw his daughter smiling at him

“Did you get him Daddy?”

Andy immediately opened his eyes. Not yet my dear sweetheart. Not yet. But soon I will. Your dad will get him soon. I promise, my sweet angel. Daddy will not rest till he catches the man who killed you. This, I promise.

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This entry was posted on Friday, September 8th, 2006 at 12:54 pm
Filed under Fiction, The Chase
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