Page 93
Story: Into the Gray Zone
I saw his head snap back in a spray of red, and he crumpled tothe ground. I jerked open the doors and began running, Jennifer and Knuckles right behind me. We had to cover seventy meters of ground, and by the time we arrived, his body was surrounded by what seemed like a hundred government officials, all of them screaming.
I saw his twisted corpse on the ground, his head shattered, but also saw something poking out of his pocket. It was a cell phone.
How on earth does he still have his phone? What kind of clown fest are these guys running?
Jennifer came up behind me as I was being manhandled away. She grabbed my arm, yelling at the guard to back off. They started to tussle, and I leaned into her ear, saying, “Let them take me to the ground. He’s still got his phone. Get the phone.”
The guard shoved her and she fell away, then another one grabbed me, both of them forcing me back. One hooked a leg underneath my calf and flipped me on my back. I hit the ground hard, seeing Jennifer dart into the body, nobody noticing her in the chaos.
She snatched the phone and then was assaulted just like me, the officials forcing her back, but nobody realizing what she’d done.
Ten minutes later Kerry was negotiating with his counterpart in the RAW, telling them to let us go. With the dead body on the ground, we were the least of their concerns, and they did so. We went back to the villa, him looking at his watch and saying, “We missed the damn meeting. I have no idea what they decided.”
Jennifer pulled the phone out of her pocket and said, “Let me get Creed on the line. Whatever decision they came to, it’s been made with bad information.”
Chapter54
Kamal awoke on the outskirts of Mumbai, the roads becoming more and more congested. He looked at Manjit behind the wheel and said, “Where are we?”
“About thirty minutes out from the city center. You’d better hope our safe house is good to go. Are you sure we can use the beds in that place?”
“Yes. It’s in the heart of the Dharavi slum. Nobody will be looking for us there. It’s all Muslims.”
Manjit turned to him and said, “We’reMuslims according to the police!”
“Not anymore. We’re the Khalistan Commando Force now. I published the webpage.”
Manjit continued driving for a moment, then said, “So we’re now wanted men?”
“We were wanted before that webpage went live. Now they just know why. What time is it?”
Manjit glanced at the Garmin watch on his wrist and said, “A little after sevenp.m.We’ve been on the road for close to a day.”
Now fully awake, Kamal said, “You’re still wearing that watch? Why didn’t you toss it like Randeep and I did?”
Manjit looked a little embarrassed, then said, “Because it’s an expensive watch and it might come in handy sometime. We hit the kill switch. Nobody can see what it does.”
Kamal let it ride, having more pressing issues to worry about. They entered the cloistered traffic of Mumbai, the honking horns becoming the norm, the vehicles all jockeying for position. Manjit said, “What do you want to do with the car? We can’t take it into the slum.”
“We’ll park it outside. Go to the Mahim Junction railway station. We’ll leave it there.”
From the back, Jaiden said, “They’ll find it and know where we are.”
“They aren’t that good. It’ll take them weeks to find it. And what will they know? That we entered the slum? They have no control inside there.”
Manjit said, “I’m not so sure of that. They have abilities we can’t comprehend.”
“People leave cars in train stations all the time. It’ll take them a month to figure that out.”
Manjit said, “The follow car is mine. I don’t want it near this van.”
Aggravated, Kamal said, “Then we’ll park it somewhere else. I’m not worried about the cars. I’m worried about the packages.”
From the back, Jaiden said, “Who have you coordinated with for the safe house? How secure is this location?”
“They aren’t Muslim, if that’s what you’re asking. It’s a factory owner from my village. He uses illegals—mostly Muslims—to take the plastic off wrecked cars and make it into luggage.”
Jaiden said, “What’s his name?”
I saw his twisted corpse on the ground, his head shattered, but also saw something poking out of his pocket. It was a cell phone.
How on earth does he still have his phone? What kind of clown fest are these guys running?
Jennifer came up behind me as I was being manhandled away. She grabbed my arm, yelling at the guard to back off. They started to tussle, and I leaned into her ear, saying, “Let them take me to the ground. He’s still got his phone. Get the phone.”
The guard shoved her and she fell away, then another one grabbed me, both of them forcing me back. One hooked a leg underneath my calf and flipped me on my back. I hit the ground hard, seeing Jennifer dart into the body, nobody noticing her in the chaos.
She snatched the phone and then was assaulted just like me, the officials forcing her back, but nobody realizing what she’d done.
Ten minutes later Kerry was negotiating with his counterpart in the RAW, telling them to let us go. With the dead body on the ground, we were the least of their concerns, and they did so. We went back to the villa, him looking at his watch and saying, “We missed the damn meeting. I have no idea what they decided.”
Jennifer pulled the phone out of her pocket and said, “Let me get Creed on the line. Whatever decision they came to, it’s been made with bad information.”
Chapter54
Kamal awoke on the outskirts of Mumbai, the roads becoming more and more congested. He looked at Manjit behind the wheel and said, “Where are we?”
“About thirty minutes out from the city center. You’d better hope our safe house is good to go. Are you sure we can use the beds in that place?”
“Yes. It’s in the heart of the Dharavi slum. Nobody will be looking for us there. It’s all Muslims.”
Manjit turned to him and said, “We’reMuslims according to the police!”
“Not anymore. We’re the Khalistan Commando Force now. I published the webpage.”
Manjit continued driving for a moment, then said, “So we’re now wanted men?”
“We were wanted before that webpage went live. Now they just know why. What time is it?”
Manjit glanced at the Garmin watch on his wrist and said, “A little after sevenp.m.We’ve been on the road for close to a day.”
Now fully awake, Kamal said, “You’re still wearing that watch? Why didn’t you toss it like Randeep and I did?”
Manjit looked a little embarrassed, then said, “Because it’s an expensive watch and it might come in handy sometime. We hit the kill switch. Nobody can see what it does.”
Kamal let it ride, having more pressing issues to worry about. They entered the cloistered traffic of Mumbai, the honking horns becoming the norm, the vehicles all jockeying for position. Manjit said, “What do you want to do with the car? We can’t take it into the slum.”
“We’ll park it outside. Go to the Mahim Junction railway station. We’ll leave it there.”
From the back, Jaiden said, “They’ll find it and know where we are.”
“They aren’t that good. It’ll take them weeks to find it. And what will they know? That we entered the slum? They have no control inside there.”
Manjit said, “I’m not so sure of that. They have abilities we can’t comprehend.”
“People leave cars in train stations all the time. It’ll take them a month to figure that out.”
Manjit said, “The follow car is mine. I don’t want it near this van.”
Aggravated, Kamal said, “Then we’ll park it somewhere else. I’m not worried about the cars. I’m worried about the packages.”
From the back, Jaiden said, “Who have you coordinated with for the safe house? How secure is this location?”
“They aren’t Muslim, if that’s what you’re asking. It’s a factory owner from my village. He uses illegals—mostly Muslims—to take the plastic off wrecked cars and make it into luggage.”
Jaiden said, “What’s his name?”
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