Page 44 of Into the Gray Zone (Pike Logan #19)

Kamal and his men stood in the back of the downstairs lounge, every student staying in the hostel now crowded around a single

flat-screen television, listening to a report of a terrorist attack in Agra.

When the story was over the group split up, all chattering nervously. Kamal led his men back to their room, not saying a word.

Once the door closed, Kamal spoke in a whisper, saying, “Agam’s dead.”

Manjit said, “What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the drone was faulty. Maybe he turned it on, and it exploded. There’s no way to tell.”

Randeep said, “Do we continue?”

Kamal looked at both of them, seeing the loss of Agam had driven a stake in the heart of their will. The loss of Sidak in

Goa had been a motivator, but for some reason, unlike for him, Agam’s death was having the opposite effect on his men.

He said, “Yes, of course we continue. I spoke to Agam before I came here. He knew the risks and was willing to accept them.”

“But we put him on that path.”

And Kamal saw the issue. Manjit and Randeep blamed Mr.Chin for Sidak’s death, but blamed themselves for Agam. He had to put

that to rest.

“That’s not true. What happened at Agra would have happened whether we had come here or not. If the drone was faulty, it would have blown up whether we were trying to kill Thakkar for Mr. Chin or whether we were using it to further our goals.”

He saw his words held weight, and understood they wanted to believe him. He decided to focus on the mission. He looked at

his watch and said, “We have about nine hours until the attack. Instead of sitting here mourning Agam, I want to take the

van to that abandoned building next to the Oberoi. Get it parked inside the garage and start familiarizing ourselves with

the weapons and gear. Fit the body armor, load the magazines, double-check the grenades, that sort of thing.”

He stood up and Randeep said, “Wait, wait. I understand what you’re saying about Agam’s death, but there’s more to it than

just him getting killed. Agam failed in his mission. He didn’t hit the Taj Mahal, and you said that was necessary for us to

be able to escape from here.”

“No, that’s not true. What I said was we needed a diversion large enough to draw away national assets. I only want to deal

with local police when we escape, without any national police or the RAW coordinating efforts. We have a long drive to Mumbai,

and we won’t make it with a coordinated response. Agam accomplished that. The Agra Fort is close enough to the Taj Mahal,

and his death was enough to cause what we needed.”

“How do you know? How can we know?”

Kamal scoffed and said, “Did you not see what I just saw? It was a local news station here in Jaipur talking about an explosion

‘near the Taj Mahal.’ Every station in this country is going to be talking about that, which means the pressure to solve it

will be enormous. Every police and intelligence agency in the country will be descending on Agra, if only to show they’re

trying. Do you think an explosion at an old fort in Goa would generate that? No, Agam’s mission worked.”

Manjit said, “What if it worked too well? What if they do solve it and somehow attach us to Agam? His death might have given them the clues to find us before those ten hours are up.”

“That won’t happen. If anything, they’ll unravel Mr.Chin’s involvement, but the true hunters will be focused on Agam and

Agra. They won’t be looking for us.”

***

I hung up the phone and turned to Brett, saying, “Veep’s going to be fine. Kerry’s got him patched up through an embassy doc.”

“What’s the damage?”

“Basically, it’s stitches and a hole through his shoulder. Didn’t hit a bone, so he’ll only be in a sling for a while with

some muscle loss in his lat. He’ll come out of it with a cool scar to show his grandkids someday.”

He smiled and said, “That’s good news. When he went down, I thought for sure he’d been hit bad. What’s Jennifer’s status?”

“She’s dealing with the rental car agency and a ‘hit and run.’ I told her to let the insurance company handle it and to load

up our luggage on the Rock Star bird. Basically, get her ass down here so I don’t have to stay in this hotel with the same

pair of underwear.”

He laughed, and I said, “Don’t worry, I told her to bring yours too. Did you get anything more from Creed?”

He looked at the tablet on the table and said, “Nothing yet. Let him do his work.”

We’d finally found a cab in the sea of people either flocking to the scene of the explosion or trying to get away from it. We’d had to walk about a mile before we found one, and by that time, Brett had gotten us a reservation at a hotel and convention center called the Jaypee Palace just outside the city center, but they only had one room left. At least it had two queen beds. Apparently, every government agency and reporter was descending on the Agra Fort and rooms were getting scarce. The cab got us to the hotel in record time, as it was just south of the Taj Mahal, and we checked in looking a little worse for wear.

The receptionist asked if we were on a tour, and Brett said yes, only to realize she was asking if the tour was going to pay

for our room. When she asked for the company, he fessed up and told her no, that we were doing our own tour, and she checked

us in, probably thinking we were a couple. Luckily, she didn’t ask where our luggage was.

We went to the room and Brett immediately slaved the phone to his tablet, then the tablet to the hotel Wi-Fi. He called Creed,

Creed did his magic through the miracle of the internet, walking Brett through instructions on the tablet, and then we sat

back and waited.

That was six hours ago, and after getting the update from Jennifer, I was getting a little antsy.

I said, “That attack was something out of left field. I really want to know what he found in that phone.”

Brett stood up and said, “Well, he’s working as fast as he can. Let’s go get some dinner at the ‘grand buffet.’ Maybe he’ll

have something by the time we get back.”

I agreed and we left our room, walking through a labyrinth of hallways until we reached the reception area again, having missed

the entrance to the buffet. Out the windows of the entrance I could see the sun was setting, the splash of orange impressive

against the low skyline.

I asked the receptionist for directions, and she told me it was one floor down, but we’d have to charge it to our room since

we weren’t on a tour. Apparently, this place stayed in business with tour busses. We followed her instructions, and sure enough,

entered a giant room full of tables, food stations liberally sprinkled throughout, all with different choices. Chinese, sushi,

Indian, Western, you had your pick.

We separated, going through the lines, then found a table. I started shoveling food in my mouth, my body finally realizing it hadn’t had nourishment in a long while. After the adrenaline of this day, I had expended quite a bit of energy, first with the Chinese, then with the terrorist.

In between bites, I said, “What do you make of that attack in the parking lot?”

“I honestly don’t know. I mean, clearly it’s the Chinese, but what the hell? Why are they attacking us? Is it some organized

crime thing, or is it the government? What do you think?”

“I think it’s the government. I think it’s the MSS and they’re behind these so-called ‘Islamic terrorists.’ I think they zeroed

in on us when we stopped the attack in Goa, and they’re still worried we’re a threat.”

I took another bite, reflecting, then said, “I originally thought they were trying to kill Thakkar, but I’m not so sure now.

They’re calling that attack in Goa an Islamic copycat of the 2008 Mumbai slaughter, but after Jennifer saw the Chinese in

the hotel, I believed that was just a cover to eliminate him. After today, I’m not so sure.”

“You don’t think they’re behind it now?”

“No, no, I still think China has something to do with this, but I’m not so sure it’s Thakkar anymore. He was on the grounds

for over thirty minutes before we even arrived. That terrorist could have launched the drone at any time while he was walking

around, and most assuredly could have done so once he saw that helo come in to pick Thakkar up. He didn’t.”

“Well, they are calling him an Islamic terrorist, and if that’s true, maybe he’s just crazy. You can’t control crazy.”

“He’s not a Muslim.”

Brett looked at me in surprise and said, “Why do you say that? It’s all over the news that he is.”

“It’s also all over the news that he was killed by the drone in a misfire. And yet we both know he has two bullet holes in his chest. They know that too. They’re just saying something to placate the public.”

“So how do you know they weren’t Muslims?”

“You already said it. Because China knows Islamic terrorists are fanatics. Because they know they can’t control a man whose

sole identity is ideology. They’d never do it, just like we’d never do it.”

“We did do it. In Afghanistan during the Soviet occupation.”

“Yeah, well, we learned that lesson the hard way, didn’t we. Trust me, China’s not tying their wagon to a bunch of fanatics.

This is something else.”

“Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe they’re learning the same lesson we did.”

“What’s that?”

“They tied themselves to a bunch of fanatics, and now those guys are running loose, looking for their own version of success.”

I heard that and thought he had a point. Maybe the masters had lost control of the slaves. I said, “China would only use someone

who was motivated by money.”

I took another bite and pointed my fork at him, saying, “But maybe the ones they think are motivated by money are using China

just like China thinks they’re using them.”

Brett said, “So where does that leave us?”

I laughed and said, “On the first flight out of here, which should be arriving soon, unless Creed has found anything.”