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  Part of the PMO’s deal with Anand’s employers was that a direct uplink be provided to the aircraft carrier so that the interview could be viewed live by everyone in the Officers’ Room as well.

  As everyone involved had anticipated, the interview with Marwan sparked off instant panic in two places – Mumbai and Lakshadweep.

  Mumbai, because the first thing Marwan said to Anand was, ‘Mumbai is under threat. From us.’

  In the Officers’ Room, everyone winced. The cat was officially out of the bag.

  ‘Only we know where the attack will happen. But suffice to say we have everything, from arms to explosives to men who are very, very committed to our cause, and can be put to use the minute I say the word,’ Marwan continued.

  After a second’s pause, Anand’s voice was heard off-screen. Despite what Marwan had just said, there was no sign of fear in his voice.

  ‘And what is your cause?’ he asked.

  Marwan’s reply was tinged with scorn.

  ‘What has it always been? The Universal Caliphate. The world has always been ours for the taking, and we are going to take it, no matter how many attempts are made by infidels to stop us.’

  ‘You’re going to establish the Universal Caliphate from a cruise liner in the Arabian Sea?’ Anand asked sardonically.

  Everyone in the Officers’ Room froze a little, with the exception of Mirza. On the cruise liner, Marwan sniggered audibly under his mask.

  ‘I am just doing my part, the way millions like me are, across the world. But I understand your curiosity. Greater minds than yours have made the plan that is now unfolding in front of you. I do not expect you to comprehend it,’ he said.

  ‘So, you’re saying that you will slaughter countless people in Mumbai unless we give in to your demands?’

  ‘Slaughter is necessary, Mr Anand. Nothing comes without sacrifice. And I’m sure, after you hear what I have in mind, you will realize that holding an entire city to ransom is justified.’

  ‘A lot of people will have a problem with your use of the word “justified”. But I’m sure you know that already.’

  Marwan nodded.

  ‘I do. And I do not have time to argue with you.’

  ‘So what do you want?’ Anand asked.

  Marwan leaned forward in his seat.

  ‘Lakshadweep.’

  38

  Tuesday evening, Lakshadweep.

  There was silence in the Officers’ Room.

  There was silence in the newsroom of the television channel in Delhi, where the interview was being broadcast live.

  There was silence in the Prime Minister’s Office, where the PM and around fifty others were glued to the television set.

  There was silence at the IB headquarters, where everyone from the IB chief downwards was watching the interview.

  There was silence in countless offices of law enforcement agencies across India, as well as in the offices of intelligence agencies in at least four countries that had been informed of the situation as part of international cooperation. In every house, office or store where the interview was being watched, there was nothing but puzzled silence at Marwan’s demand. People in Mumbai, who had been in the initial throes of panic after listening to Marwan’s threat, were frozen into bewilderment.

  Marwan, seemingly aware of the reaction he was going to evoke, sat back and waited for Anand to respond. Anand gathered himself after more than half a minute and said, ‘Would you like to elaborate on that?’

  ‘Gladly. We want Lakshadweep for ourselves. As a separate state. As part of the Universal Caliphate. And if the islands of Lakshadweep are not handed over to us within twenty-four hours, Mumbai will burn.’

  ‘Were you anticipating this?’ Goyal asked in a low voice.

  Mirza only shook his head as he, Goyal and Jaiswal walked out of the Officers’ Room.

  The rest of the interview seemed anti-climactic after the shocker that Marwan dropped with his demand for Lakshadweep. Anand asked him if he thought that the people of Lakshadweep would accept his demand. Marwan chuckled.

  ‘This is a question that you should be asking them, not me,’ he said.

  Mirza did not think that the population of Lakshadweep would want to be separated from India. In 1947, the population of Lakshadweep, which is now over 90 per cent Muslim, was almost 100 per cent Muslim. As the cluster of islands was cut off from the rest of the country at the time, the people there did not learn about India’s independence till a few days after 15 August. Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel, after being appointed union home minister, had sent an Indian Navy frigate to keep an eye on the islands in case Pakistan tried claiming it.

  It is said that Pakistani Navy vessels had indeed been spotted heading towards Lakshadweep a few days after Independence, but the presence of the Indian Navy frigate and the Indian flag hoisted high on the island, discouraged any attempt at

  a takeover.

  But more importantly, Mirza thought, there had been no demand from the natives for separation, unlike in states such as Punjab where the people wanted to be part of a separate state. Pakistan, at the time, had counted on the Muslim-majority population in Lakshadweep supporting their demand but the idea did not find any takers in the people themselves.

  But it wasn’t 1947 any more. A lot of water had passed under the bridge, so to speak. Many incidents had swayed the opinion of Muslims not just in India, but the world over. The sheer number of ‘recruits’ for the cause of the Global Caliphate seen every year was testament to the change in thinking due to attacks by Islamic terrorists and the backlash that the Muslim community faced, which, in turn, became fuel for extremists to use in their propaganda.

  The interview ended with Marwan saying that for the next twenty-four hours, he did not want anyone entering or exiting Lakshadweep. For a minute, everyone on the aircraft carrier was worried that he might kill Anand on live television. However, the journalist was allowed to leave and everyone heaved a collective sigh of relief when he clambered aboard the aircraft carrier. He was sent packing in a jet before he could ask the officers any questions.

  Mirza walked to the room that he had taken over for himself to take a closer look at the entire incident. He, along with Goyal and Jaiswal, was slowly piecing together the entire run-up to the hijacking.

  ‘Let’s go over it again,’ Mirza said.

  ‘Okay. So, Munafiq first gets to Aslam Parkar. Holding him and his mother captive in their house, he poses as Rishabh Chawla and appears for the IM Five in Bhopal. He relays instructions for them to break out of jail while also making all arrangements for them once they are out,’ Jaiswal said.

  ‘Right,’ Goyal picked it up. ‘The IM Five collect the ’93 Cache from wherever it was hidden and do God knows what with it. Then they shave off their beards, get different hairstyles, put on posh suits and check into the Taj Land’s End.’

  Mirza said nothing. He was sitting back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, eyes closed, listening to his two subordinates.

  ‘Meanwhile, Marco hijacks the cruise liner and waits for orders. He was waiting till the IM Five had used the ’93 Cache for their purpose, before moving forward. Do we agree on that?’

  ‘It’s the most logical explanation,’ Mirza said without opening his eyes.

  ‘Okay. So once the IM Five are done with their stuff, they let their masters know. Marco goes ahead with contacting our government and Marwan sets off from Indonesia for Lakshadweep,’ said Jaiswal.

  ‘Which brings us here,’ Goyal added.

  ‘What are the questions we need answered?’ Mirza asked.

  There was a minute’s silence as Goyal and Jaiswal marshalled their thoughts.

  ‘Well, how do they propose to keep Lakshadweep under their control? There are too many challenges. They don’t know if the people will agree. Ruling by force never ends well. Plus, our navy could take it back from them in a day,’ Goyal said.

  ‘Yes, but at the cost of a lot of lives. Are we sure we�
�d want to go that way?’ Mirza asked.

  ‘Well,’ Jaiswal said. ‘I guess that’s something the government can answer. Meanwhile, here’s another question. What’s on that freighter? The one that Marwan came on? It’s been standing between the cruise liner and Kavaratti and we haven’t seen any movement on it.’

  ‘Can’t we slip someone on board, somehow?’ Goyal wondered and Mirza shook his head.

  ‘Too risky,’ he said.

  ‘Next, can we trust this Daniel Fernando?’ asked Jaiswal.

  ‘I believe we can,’ Mirza replied. ‘I’ve gone over his record and there is nothing in there to indicate that he’s anything but dependable. He’s also worked on covert operations earlier, and Vikrant and he have worked together. So, yes, we can trust him.’

  ‘Good. Because I’m beginning to think Vikrant sir and he are the only ones in the position to actually do something, while we sit here and scratch our heads.’

  ‘Patience, lad,’ Mirza said.

  ‘Okay, one big question. Do we think Marwan is Munafiq?’ Goyal asked.

  ‘That’s a big one,’ Mirza said. ‘Every attack that he’s been part of, or orchestrated, he’s always made sure that he’s been present at the scene. This time, we’re in the middle of the sea. The media is banned from coming close. The only ones near enough to actually see what’s going on are us, the people on Lakshadweep and the people on the cruise liner.’

  Everyone looked at each other.

  ‘So, Munafiq could be Marwan?’ Jaiswal said.

  ‘He could be. But then again, he might not be.’

  Goyal and Jaiswal looked confused.

  ‘Munafiq has always remained in the shadows. It’s not his style to come out in the open and assume charge of an operation with everyone watching him,’ Mirza said thoughtfully.

  ‘But if Marwan isn’t Munafiq, then where is Munafiq? Why is he missing out on the fruition of his plan, which he’s worked so hard on?’ Goyal countered.

  ‘What if this isn’t the fruition?’ Mirza asked.

  ‘Oh please, don’t tell me this nightmare is going to last longer,’ Jaiswal groaned.

  Mirza took a deep breath and stood up. He started pacing about the small room.

  ‘This story began in Bhopal. It went to Mumbai and then came to Lakshadweep. And it sure as hell isn’t going to end with the Island of Lakshadweep being handed over to Marwan on a platter. Whatever they have planned, it involves hitting us hard. In tangible terms. They have to shed blood and take lives.’

  ‘What are you saying, sir?’ Goyal asked.

  ‘That we might still see another chapter in this story. And that Munafiq may already be in that location.’

  39

  Wednesday morning, Mumbai/Lakshadweep.

  It did not take more than a few hours for mass hysteria to set in.

  The press reacted the fastest, as expected. Crime reporters reached out to their sources in the police and investigative agencies and were told that the matter was being handled by the higher-ups. Mumbai Police Commissioner Virendra Sinha met journalists for five minutes in his office, in which all he said was that he was under orders not to speak to the media, and that the Chief Minister’s Office would be in a better position to comment.

  As they walked out after the press briefing, the crime reporters called up their colleagues on the political beat, who laid siege to the Chief Minister’s Office. CM Yashwant Pradhan, after frantic phone calls to Delhi, stepped out to address the media.

  For the next half hour, he fielded questions from journalists who were all but frothing at the mouth. Pradhan could not outright deny what Marwan had said on live television. If the people of Mumbai were in danger, they had a right to know. At the same time, he did not want to set off any extreme reactions.

  That decision, however, was taken out of his hands the minute the press briefing ended. The press, predictably, went crazy. It began with live reports from outside the Mantralaya. Soon, reporters were covering search-and-combing operations by the police all over the city. The entire NSG hub in Goregaon was put on standby and journalists stationed themselves outside, giving hourly bulletins that didn’t actually say anything new but added to the mass hysteria.

  Before long, people were packing whatever they could and bundling it into their cars. That is, those who had cars. Taxis and autorickshaws were unavailable, as the drivers were busy getting themselves out of the city. Within a couple of hours, highways leading out of the city were jammed with vehicles.

  The police set up roadblocks and random checkpoints on orders from the commissioner, further adding to the chaos. Everyone was scared, even the policemen, who were doing their jobs while others fled. Pradhan was scared. The state cabinet was scared. The union government was scared.

  In Lakshadweep, meanwhile, a different sort of reaction was brewing. The residents of the islands had noticed the cruise liner anchored near Kavaratti and had been curiously keeping an eye on it. Then the naval aircraft carrier arrived, followed by the freighter. When some of the locals tried to take their boats out to take a closer look, the INS Dweeprakshak sent naval ships to turn them back. Instructions were issued to the residents to stay indoors until further notice.

  Then came the interview with Marwan. As soon as it ended, residents poured out into the streets on all ten islands of Lakshadweep. The navy deployed heavy personnel immediately. It took a couple of hours but the naval officers were able to convince the locals that the best thing they could do at the moment was to stay indoors and not panic.

  Prime Minister Parmeshwar Naidu, meanwhile, called up the administrator of Lakshadweep, Danish Khan.

  ‘What am I to tell my people, sir?’ Khan asked.

  ‘Danish,’ Naidu said. ‘We’ve known each other for two decades now. Trust me, I’ll find a way.’

  ‘I’m not surrendering Lakshadweep to these barbarians, sir.’

  ‘You won’t have to, Danish,’ Naidu assured him and hung up with absolutely no idea of what he was going to do next.

  From the deck of the cruise liner, Marwan watched the developments on Lakshadweep using binoculars and smiled to himself. Everything was going perfectly in accordance with the plan.

  40

  Wednesday morning, Lakshadweep.

  After Marwan reached the hijack site in his freighter, the Somali mercenaries transferred crates full of supplies, including drinking water and tinned food, to the cruise liner. This was to sustain them as well as their captives till they received the order to move on to the next phase of the mission.

  ‘And what would the next phase be?’ Marco asked.

  ‘All in good time, Marco,’ Marwan said from under his mask. ‘All in good time.’

  Marco assigned two of his men to take food and water twice a day to the recreational area of the cruiser, where the six captives were being held. The supplies were stored in the kitchen, and every morning and evening, one of them would load a tray and take it down to the captives.

  Today, the job was assigned to Oscar, who started his trip from the kitchen to the recreational area with a sense of supreme boredom. Agreed, he thought, it was easy money. The captives had been obedient and no one had tried being a hero, although Marco had told him to keep a close eye on the man who was playing union leader.

  For the most part, Oscar thought as he started down the staircase, he was basically babysitting a bunch of people and getting paid for it. Which, though not a bad thing, was boring. He had spent years in battle zones all around the world, and this, while easy, also came with the lack of action that could affect any battle-hardened veteran.

  He nodded to two of his fellow mercenaries who were standing lazily a short distance away from the doors, guns to their sides, chatting with each other. Strictly speaking, they were supposed to be stationed on either side of the doors. But as the days passed, they had started slacking off in increasing degrees. Oscar couldn’t blame them. The job was monotonous and in any case there were just six unarmed people, two of them women,
to guard. There was only one way out of the recreational area and anyone trying to escape would quickly be brought down by bullets before they could take five steps.

  Inside the recreational area, Vikrant and Daniel, observing the silhouettes of the guards through the translucent doors, had also picked up on their pattern of movements and had based their plans around it, despite Hakimi’s protests.

  ‘Now,’ Daniel whispered as he saw Oscar’s silhouette approach. Vikrant flicked the cigarette lighter in his hand.

  The walls of the recreational area were lined with canvas paintings about the history of sailing and maritime trade, all in wooden frames. From early that morning, Daniel and Vikrant had pulled every painting off the walls and gathered them in the middle. The plan was risky as hell, perfectly in keeping with Madman Dan.

  Vikrant touched the flame of the lighter to the heap of paintings and it caught fire instantly. By the time Oscar slid open one of the two sliding doors to the recreational area, the heap, which Daniel and Vikrant had placed just outside the door, was blazing in full force.

  ‘What the fuck!’ Oscar said, dropping the tray and going for his gun. He was one second too late. Daniel, who was crouching just beyond the door on Oscar’s right, reached out and grabbed the stiletto dagger that Oscar was carrying in his boot holster. While Oscar, blinded by the smoke of the fire, was still reaching for the gun hanging by his side, Daniel drove the dagger into his jugular vein.

  The two guards, alerted by Oscar’s cry and the smell of fire, started running to the door. Daniel, without missing a beat, pulled out the same dagger and threw it at them, catching one in his left eye. He fell onto his fellow mercenary behind him and Vikrant, taking advantage of the confusion, ran forward.

  ‘Don’t try to wrestle them,’ Daniel had told Vikrant. ‘They’re better trained, stronger and faster than you. Kill them the first chance you get.’