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Agam said, “I’d rather get crushed on the rocks than be killed by these assholes.”

With that, he sprinted through the rain to the far wall abutting the sea. Kamal hesitated a moment, then turned to Randeep and said, “Come on. It’s the only way.”

They ran across, the rain slapping against their faces like pebbles. They reached the rock wall next to an ancient Portuguese cannon overlooking the ocean. Kamal looked down and could make out the swirling foam in the darkness, the waves crashing into the rocks in a rhythm. Seeing the maelstrom, he had second thoughts.

He looked at Agam and said, “Maybe Randeep is right.”

Agam said nothing, his actions showing his answer. He leapt over the wall, holding on to the barrel of the cannon, his feet now perpendicular to the stone. He looked at Kamal, then at the surf below him, timing his fall. He waited until the moment the waves crashed and then let go, falling the thirty feet to the water.

Shocked, Kamal leaned over the stone wall, seeing Agam in the surf, swimming away from the danger of the waves. He looked at Randeep and said, “He goes, we all go.”

Randeep said nothing, simply staring into the blackness of the ocean. Kamal slapped the back of his head and said, “Get over. Go.”

Snapped out of his fear, Randeep repeated Agam’s maneuver, dropping to the water below. Kamal followed him, holding on to the barrelof the cannon and taking great gulps of air, feeling the sting of the rain on his face. He watched below, saw the waves strike the rock wall, and willed himself to let go.

He windmilled his arms, the fall much longer than he anticipated, the drop through the rain seeming to take forever. He hit the water sideways, the impact punching the air out of his lungs. He sank for a moment, then began to fight to the surface, knowing he had to get away from the wall before the next crash of waves. He broke the surface, took a gasp of air, and saw the waves coming. He ducked underneath the water, just like he’d done as a child, and began swimming away from the rocks. When he ran out of air, he surfaced, finding himself twenty feet away from the wall.

He glanced around but didn’t find either Agam or Randeep. He saw the tip of the jetty in the dim light and continued swimming, the powerful need for survival driving him forward.

Seven minutes later, he reached the end of the dock, clinging to the rocks like a barnacle. He used them to work his way to the northern side of the jetty, seeing the rubber Zodiac. Climbing over the gunwale was Agam, Randeep’s head bobbing in the water next to him.

He smiled and scuttled to the boat. In minutes, they were all aboard, Manjit powering the outboard into the sea, the rain still pelting them. Kamal took one last look back and saw nothing to indicate they’d been seen escaping.

Nobody talked. Not even Manjit. He knew what it meant when they’d arrived. No words were necessary. Sidak was dead, and no amount of discussion was going to bring him back.

Kamal knew Sidak’s death was his responsibility, and that knowledge weighed heavily on him. The others had agreed to the mission because they felt the pull of their Sikh heritage, and had agreed solely because the money offered would help them further the cause of Sikh nationalism.

Sidak had been different. Barely out of his teens, Kamal had hired him to work with Mr. Chin on the computer side of things, using his technical skill. He had wanted no part of hunting the billionaire and, unlike Kamal and the others, held no burning desire for Sikh independence. A skinny kid with an analytical mind, Sidak wouldn’t draw any attention, and having never been incarcerated, Kamal knew he would be perfect for the reconnaissance mission. Kamal had played on their friendship, telling him it would be nothing more than a two-week stint at a hotel. Sidak had trusted Kamal, and he’d finally agreed. And now he was dead just as surely as if Kamal had pulled the trigger.

They reached the mother ship, the rain now a light mist. Mr.Chin helped them anchor the small boat to the side of the hull and they clambered up the netting to the larger boat, collapsing on the deck.

Mr.Chin said, “Where’s Sidak?”

Kamal said, “He’s dead. They killed him. He was hanging like a slab of meat in the cell, posing no threat, and they killed him when we came. Shot him in the head.”

The speed of his speech increased the more he spoke, the words tumbling out as if he were trying to absolve himself of the blame, his mind now grasping what had happened to his friend. He finished, feeling the tears roll down his cheeks and hoping they were camouflaged by the rain.

Mr.Chin said, “Did he talk?”

Kamal couldn’t believe the callousness of the question. He said, “How the fuck would I know? He was hanging from a hook. They put a bullet in his head.”

“They? Did you kill them?”

His eyes now slits, Kamal said, “Yes, we killed them.”

Mr.Chin went to the console of the boat and turned on the twin outboards, saying, “Good. So we’re still a go for the billionaire.”

Kamal stood up at the words, saying, “You killed my friend.Youdid it. You said he’d be fine going into that resort, and he wasn’t.”

Mr.Chin turned from the wheel of the boat and said, “Sometimes my intelligence isn’t perfect, but he was paid well. He knew the risks, as do you now.”

Kamal was sickened by the discussion, the thought of Sidak dying for nothing more than a paycheck disgusting him. He decided that Sidak’s death would be about more than money. His sacrifice would mean something to the Sikh brethren.

And Mr.Chin was going to help him do that.

Chapter6

Wolffe walked to the head of the table and took a seat. I pulled out the nearest chair, saying, “Goa? What’s in India? Nuclear weapons on the loose? A sighting of Big Foot?”