Weapon of Vengeance (28 page)

Seven minutes later, Meir Dagan called him back on a secure line.

“Firstly, I must thank you for all the help with that problem across the border.” Dagan was aware of the risk India had taken; it would have been disastrous if any of the Kidon team had been taken alive. “My government appreciates it.”

“A pleasure, Mr. Dagan.” But Ravinder couldn't keep the anxiety out of his voice. Dagan picked up on it and asked him why. Ravinder told him.

“Before I answer, I want your assurance this conversation will remain off the books.”

“If that is what you want.”

“It is.”

“So be it. Whatever you say will remain with me. Even if I take action, I will not divulge the reasons or the source.”

“Thank you. I must warn you, though … this is going to be unusual. I am not sure if my government would approve of it.”

“These are unusual times, Mr. Dagan.”

“They certainly are, Mr. Gill. Does the name Yusuf Sharbati mean anything to you?”

“Hmmm … I have heard it—” Memory kicked in with a snap. “Isn't he the Qassam Brigade commander who was … who met his end at Dubai a couple of weeks ago?”

“Perfectly right. The very same. Yusuf was the one who engineered the Jerusalem strike with help from the Lashkar-e-Taiba. His death was our payback.”

“I understand.”

“I think you do.”

“I have no issues with Yusuf's death. He got what he deserved. But I am not able to understand what he has to do with my queries.”

“Do you know that Sharbati was not his real name? He took that on as a nom de guerre only when he joined the Qassam Brigade.”

Ravinder felt a sense of something evil coming at him.

“His real name was Yusuf al-Moghrabi. Does
that
name mean anything to you, Mr. Gill?”

The sick sensation now turned into a pain. “Moghrabi was my first wife's family name,” he whispered, the shock sinking in.

“Yusuf Sharbati was her brother.”

“But Rehana said both her brothers had died.”

Dagan did not say anything.

“Does Ruby, my daughter, know about Yusuf? Did she know him?”

“We do not know. We think she does. We have reason to believe she met him when she came here for Rehana's funeral. But to be honest, we are not sure.”

“Tell me more,” Ravinder said, dreading any answer.

“We picked her up the minute Ruby Gill landed in Tel Aviv. The immigration officer kept her engaged as he informed our office. By the time she left the airport, we had a surveillance team on her and a beeper on her suitcase. An hour later, she managed to lose both and simply vanished into the West Bank. Why would she have done that if she had nothing to hide?”

Why, indeed?

“We picked her up again at her mother's funeral, but once again, Ruby lost the surveillance. When she showed up at the airport the next day, we questioned her. Our man specifically asked her if she knew Yusuf.… He showed her his picture. She denied meeting him, even denied knowing him. Our man reminded her that as a British government employee, it was her duty to help us track down a known terrorist.”

“What did she say?”

“‘I would if I could, Officer. I wish I could.'” His words hung between them for a while. “And, since there was no evidence of any wrongdoing, we could not detain her.”

Then a silence, before Dagan continued.

“I must also tell you almost the same thing happened when Rehana reached Israel after the Jerusalem strike. Our computers picked up her name and we mounted an electronic and physical surveillance. We managed to track her to the house of one Abdul Bari, who had been the neighbor and lab assistant of her late father. Bari took her to meet Bashshar, the local Hamas man, also a junior Qassam Brigade commander … someone we've had our eye on for some time. A couple of hours later, Rehana managed to lose the bugs and the men watching her. The next we heard of her, she had been killed during the Interfaith Freedom March, at the Main Square on Abu Bakr Street.”

Dagan allowed Ravinder to assimilate all this before he resumed once more.

“So, though we have no proof that either Rehana or Ruby met Yusuf, their actions were not above suspicion. Why else would they have ditched the bugs or the surveillance?”

“Why else, indeed?”

“So, like I said earlier, no real proof. And yes, there is one more thing. Our people recovered a mobile from Yusuf Sharbati in Dubai. One call was made to it, from a satellite phone, which we traced to Pakistan—”

“Yes. Your man, Ido Peled, told us about that.”

“So we put that satellite phone on our monitoring list and then we picked up a call made to it from London.”

“When was that?”

Dagan told him. Ravinder did the math; it had been made when Ruby was still in London.
But what does that prove?

“Was it—?”He hesitated, knowing this could be the key question. If the caller was Ruby, the father could no longer deny the cop; his duty would be clear.

“We have no idea who it was.” Dagan second-guessed the question. “The caller didn't say a word. The satellite phone was answered by a man, who said his phone was low on battery and he would call back. That was it. So all we know is that the call originated from a public phone in central London.”

Ravinder, deeply troubled when he put the phone down, knew he could not stop. He redialed, and minutes later he was on to London again.

“Like I mentioned earlier, Ruby Gill is currently on medical leave.”

“Yes, but I need only to know where she was on these dates.” Ravinder gave out the fortnight spanning the weeks on either side of the Jerusalem terror strike. Ravinder again could hear keys clicking.

“Well, she was right here … in England. We cannot say where, but she was certainly in the country.… We have no record of her having traveled out at that time.”

“I see.” Ravinder couldn't tell if he was relieved or more troubled.

He was brooding about this when Gyan entered. “Sir, the agent from London is here to see you.”

“Send him in.” Ravinder wondered what Chance wanted, but he was glad to see him. Perhaps he could help.

They were exchanging pleasantries when Chance spotted the photo of Mark's body on Ravinder's table. With the Congo operation fresh in his memory, he recognized it immediately. “That's Mark Leahy. What's he doing here?”

“You know him?” Ravinder was surprised.

“Yes. He's ex-military, did some work for … our government.” Chance broke off, realizing this was an area he did not wish to go into. “Ruby also knows him.”

“She does?” Somehow Ravinder was not surprised; but it made his heart slump.

“Better than I do. He was her backup for our last operation. Why?”

Ravinder took a long minute to marshal his thoughts. And to decide how much he should take Chance into his confidence. But he took the hard call and brought Chance up to speed, telling him everything except what Dagan had told him in confidence.

“The arms dealer was sure it was a woman?”

“No, but he believed it was.”

“What do you think the target is?”

“If Ruby is involved, I'll bet it's the summit.”

“What next, then?” Chance, trying to mask his own confusion and distress, was watching Ravinder carefully.

There was a silence.

Inwardly, Ravinder flinched. Outwardly he displayed no sign. Ravinder met Chance's gaze head-on. “Then we take Ruby in.”

“Is it that simple, Mr. Gill?” Chance leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair.

“What do you mean?”

“With the evidence you have so far … such as it is, our government will blow a gasket if you arrest her. Ruby is a British national … and an MI6 agent. You will not be able to hold her for long … if at all.… You can bet on that.”

“It'd be only for a few days,” Ravinder shrugged. “The delegates start arriving tomorrow. A week at best, and it will all be over.”

“Yes, but I don't see that happening. Not unless you are willing to risk a big international incident.”

Ravinder closed his eyes, pondering. If he arrested her and could not come up with proof, it would be the end of his career. And
if
he were wrong, it would be the end of any love with his firstborn.

“Also, if she is involved in any strike,” Chance pointed out, “how likely is it that she'd be operating alone? How sure can we be that arresting her will stop the strike.”

“From what Gerber has told us, we know she's not alone.” Ravinder referred to the yet-to-be-traced South African mercenaries.

“Right. And considering the timeframe,” Chance asked, “she might have already deployed them and others that we may not even know about … right?”

The silence this time was longer.

Ravinder realized that taking Ruby in might not actually stop a strike. But he had to be doubly sure that the father in him was not standing between the cop and his duty. Finally he nodded. “Yes. That makes sense.”

“So then, why don't we leave things the way they are. We allow her to believe that we do not suspect her, and maintain status quo. If she continues staying at your house, not only can you keep an eye on her, but she may even lead us to the others.”

It took Ravinder time to respond. “Okay. I agree.”

Even as he said that, he felt a nagging doubt tug at him.
Am I doing the right thing? Would it not be simpler to just take her in and—

Then Mohite rushed in, excited and disheveled. “I think we have them, sir.”

“Who?”

“The two South African mercenaries?”

“Really? Where did you find them?”

“A small guesthouse in Paharganj. One of the whore—” Mohite noticed Chance and checked himself. “—one of those disreputable ones.”

“Good!” Ravinder thumped the table, happy at the break. “Where are they now?”

“They'll be here any minute.”

“Take them straight for interrogation. We'll be down right away.”

“We?” Mohite threw a glance at Chance.

Chance took the hint. “I was just leaving.” He got up.

“No, that's all right, Chance. Please stay.” He turned to Mohite. “We
are
batting for the same side, Govind.”

Mohite nodded, clearly unhappy. Ravinder sensed he'd be hearing more on this from Thakur soon. But now he had bigger fish to fry; if he managed to grab the terrorists and stop a strike, even Thakur would leave him alone for a time.

An hour later, the excitement turned to shit.

The only thing the two South Africans were guilty of was having picked the wrong day to visit the wrong whorehouse. And they'd compounded their error by trying to fight off the cops and make a break for it when the whorehouse was raided.

The inspector who led the raid was a vindictive type, which was aggravated by their breaking his nose in their attempt to escape. And that both South Africans were solidly built ex-soldiers had convinced the furious cop that these were the two mercenaries wanted by ATTF.

Unwilling to talk openly with Mohite around, Ravinder waited till he was alone before speaking with Chance again. “I am going home now. Let me see what Ruby is up to.”

“Do that. Keep her with you as much as possible.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Back to the hotel to check out the deployment again. I am still not happy with how the security guys are responding to the emergency drill.”

He was walking away when a thought struck Ravinder. He felt sure it would work, but it would require more than a single pair of hands. He also knew he could trust Chance to help make it happen.

“Chance, one second.” Calling him back, Ravinder explained what he had in mind. “What do you think?”

“Using decoy delegates in case of an attempted strike on the summit is a brilliant idea.” Chance sounded excited. “It will keep them safe and also, if we use armed decoys, give us a chance to take down the attackers.”

“Great! But we'll need more people.”

“You can count me in,” Chance assured him. “Who else do you have in mind? Mr. Mohite?”

“No. He already has too much to do.”

Chance had already sensed Ravinder's disconnect with his second-in-command. “What about Jennifer?”

“She should do, but don't brief her just yet.” Ravinder saw the query in Chance's eyes. “The fewer who know, the better.” Pause. “Right now, women from the West are not too high on my list of trusted people.”

They both laughed, happy for that respite.

“Right.” Chance nodded. “How about Ido Peled?”

“Yes, he should be good. I'll speak to him right away.”

“Cool. Later, when the time is right, I can speak to Jennifer.”

“Yes. Between the four of us, we can ensure both floors are sealed off and all the delegates guarded. I will detail four of my people … people I can rely on totally, to act as escorts.”

“Fair enough,” Chance concurred. “What about the decoys?”

Ravinder ran over his options. “I think our best bet is the National Security Guards. Kaul, the NSG Director General, is my batch mate and a good friend. He will give us the thirteen decoys we need.”

Once again, that bloody number.
Ravinder pushed it away.

The two men quickly ran through the plan once more, fleshing it out to ensure nothing had been overlooked. The minute an attack was mounted on the summit, the delegates would be moved to another conference room, secured by Ido Peled. Chance would man the eighth floor and Jennifer the seventh, while Ravinder took charge of the control room. The thirteen decoys would be moved under armed escort to the alternate venue, the Samrat Hotel. The decoys would be used to draw out the attackers, who could then be neutralized.

Satisfied that they'd covered the critical points, they went their separate ways: Chance to Ashoka Hotel and Ravinder to call Kaul. He briefed the three guards at his house not to allow anyone out without clearing it with him. And also tasked a plainclothes team, three men including the driver, to mount surveillance on his house from sunrise to midnight.