Page 50 of Into the Gray Zone (Pike Logan #19)

The sun began cresting the horizon, and Kamal felt like he was becoming a danger while driving. He simply couldn’t keep his

eyes open and had caught himself swerving to the side of the road twice. Manjit was asleep in the passenger seat next to him,

Jaiden in the back, his head nodding down while he was supposed to be watching the hostages.

They’d made it out of Jaipur by the skin of their teeth, literally a miracle that Kamal attributed to Agam’s attack at the

Taj Mahal. If the authorities hadn’t been occupied six hours away, they would have descended with a blanket of steel, locking

down the entire city.

Because they were otherwise committed, the response was haphazard. The local police had tried to implement road closures with

little success, none of them being fully informed of what they were attempting to accomplish. One checkpoint they’d passed

through was using the checkpoint order to fleece everyone who was unlucky enough to be on that road. Kamal and his follow

car were that unlucky, but they made it through for a few rupees, and then they were free, racing away from the city limits.

From there it was a comedy of errors to find a safe route to Mumbai. Randeep had mapped the original path after three hours of research, but he was dead, and Kamal found out quickly that smartphone mapping applications didn’t have an option for “back roads to avoid the police.”

Randeep’s planned route off major thoroughfares was supposed to take just over twenty-four hours. Now, after eight hours of

driving down one wrong highway after another, they were way behind, and Kamal was starting to fall asleep at the wheel.

He saw Jaiden shift in his seat and said, “I’m going to pull over. I need to swap out with Manjit.” Jaiden said, “I have to

use the bathroom anyway. Find a spot to stop.”

Kamal said, “Yeah, I’m with you. The follow car probably needs a change-out as well.”

Jaiden said, “We need food too.”

Kamal looked at Manjit sleeping next to him and said, “I’ll pull over at the next place.”

Four minutes later, Kamal saw a roadside stop with signs begging drivers to come in for food and tourist trinkets. He put

on his turn signal and drove into the parking lot, the sedan behind matching his exit. He parked, waiting for the follow car

to come next to him. When it did, Jaiden exited, said something to the two in the car, then went inside. Kamal looked at the

hostages in the back of the van.

They were lined in a row, blindfolded and flex-tied on both their wrists and ankles. The two women were trembling, even after

eight hours of driving, their fear evident. The man appeared to be passed out.

He crawled through the front seats to the back of the van and checked the man, not sure Jaiden even cared if they were alive

or dead. He touched his neck and the man jerked awake, batting Kamal’s hands away with his own flex-cuffed ones and shouting

in English.

Kamal trapped his arms and, in English, said, “Shut the fuck up, right now, or you’re dead. I don’t need you. I have Thakkar’s daughter. You’re just extra baggage at this point.”

He saw fear on the man’s face, even behind the blindfold. The man said, “I’m famous in the United States. You don’t want to

kill me. I’m worth something.”

Kamal said, “We’ll see about that.”

One of the men driving the follow car came up, and Kamal exited the back of the van. He closed the doors, saying, “Just watch

them from out here. Let them roast in the heat for a little bit. If we aren’t back in thirty minutes, open the door and give

them some water, but don’t let them move otherwise.”

The man nodded and Kamal went to the passenger side of the van, waking up Manjit.

When the fog cleared from his head, Kamal said, “It’s your turn to drive. Bathroom break.”

They walked into the shop, finding an outpost for truckers who routinely drove these roads. Full of various automotive accessories

and sprinkled with trinkets, it was surprisingly clean, and even had a cooler in the rear filled with sodas and water.

The back of the station held a little fry-grill with a limited menu, an older man sitting on a stool watching a television,

looking like he didn’t get too many customers. They walked to the counter, ordering eight bowls of rice and chicken, three

with zero spice. Kamal knew that “zero spice” only meant the food wouldn’t burn your intestines, and the last thing they needed

was for the hostages to come down with diarrhea in the back of the van.

As they waited, Kamal finally asked what had been bothering him for the last eight hours. “Why didn’t you shoot the woman

in the van? Why did you give us this extra complication?”

Manjit remained quiet for a moment, then said, “She was protecting the bride. Willing to give her life for another. It is what we strive to be. I couldn’t kill her.”

Kamal grew aggravated but couldn’t raise his voice in the store. “She’s going to die anyway. We can’t keep all three. It’s

too hard to do that logistically. You’ve just made someone else do the dirty work for you.”

Manjit said nothing. Kamal continued, “When that time comes, it’ll be you pulling the trigger. You need to learn the price of what we’re doing.”

Manjit hissed, “I told you I wouldn’t kill innocents for this. I’m not Hamas. You might be, but I’m not. We have Thakkar’s daughter, and that’s enough.”

Kamal looked at him, saw the steel in his face, and changed the subject, saying, “The older guy is an American. He claims

he’s famous, which will work to get our word out to the world. This wouldn’t make American news without him, so that’s good.”

Manjit said, “Well, maybe I should have killed him instead, since a death is just a death.”

Kamal saw the anger and said, “Okay, okay, I hear you. I didn’t mean what I said. It’s just that we can’t keep three hostages.

It’s exponentially harder.”

“Then let her out on the street. When we get to Mumbai, just let her go. She’s a nobody. We don’t have to kill her.”

“We can’t let her go now. The minute she surfaces, whether it’s here, where they’ll know our path, or later, once we’re in

Mumbai, it’s not going to happen. She’s with us for the duration. Or she’s dead.”

Kamal looked to see the reaction of his words, and he saw Manjit staring, his mouth open. He said, “What?”

Manjit hissed, “Look at the TV.”

On the screen was a story about the attack, and in the left corner was a picture of Jaiden.

Kamal said, “Sir, what’s that story on the TV?”

The cook said, “Some attack in Jaipur from a bunch of Muslims. Apparently, the head of security tried to prevent it and was

taken. I hope he’s giving them hell.”

Kamal nodded and said, “Yeah, I hope he is too.”

The man returned to the grill, and Manjit said to Kamal, “Muslims? They still think it’s a LeT attack from Pakistan.”

“I know. I’ll initiate the webpage once we have cell service. They won’t believe that for long. The bigger issue is that Jaiden’s

face is now on the news.”

He saw Jaiden exit the bathroom and went to him immediately, saying, “You need to get to the vehicle. You’re on the television.”

Jaiden ducked his head and began walking to the door, saying, “So they know I’m involved?”

They exited, and Kamal said, “No. They think you’ve been kidnapped. But your face is on the television. You need to hide.”

***

Inside the back of the van, Nadia waited a beat after the outburst from the American. Sure they were now alone, she said,

“Annaka, are you okay?”

Annaka jerked at her name, saying, “Yes, yes, I am. Is that you, Nadia?”

Nadia smiled behind her blindfold, saying, “It is. Thank you so much for inviting me to the wedding celebration.”

The man who’d been taken with them said, in English, “Shut up! You’re going to get us in trouble.”

Nadia switched to English as well, saying, “They’re outside the van. If we keep our voices down, they won’t know we’re talking. But you can keep yelling if you want.”

The man said nothing, and Nadia continued, saying, “We need to escape sooner rather than later. While we’re driving. I don’t

know where they’re taking us, but once they arrive, our chances of survival drop significantly.”

The man said, “Most hostage situations like this end with a payment. If we try to escape, they’ll kill us. The only reason

they took me was for money. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Nadia said, “You think they took you for money? Just a minute ago you were telling him you were famous. These men have no idea who you are, but since you’ve told

them you’re famous, they’re going to use it, and I promise it isn’t for money.”

Annaka said, “Nadia, what should we do? Will your people come looking for us?”

Nadia took a deep breath, knowing she meant the Research and Analysis Wing. She said, “They will, but I’m not sure they’ll

do it to protect us. They’re going to be concerned with eliminating the people who did this, not rescuing us. The government

is going to want a statement, and we’re going to be the price of that.”

She heard Annaka start to weep and said, “What about your dad? Will he bring pressure to bear?”

Annaka choked out, “He’s the same way. He’s going to kill these men no matter what. He’ll hunt them to the ends of the earth,

but he won’t care if I’m gone. If I die, it’ll just give him a reason to continue.”

Nadia heard that and felt her world begin to crumble. They were all going to be corpses in a field somewhere, all for the politics of India. She banished the thought, knowing she had to keep them confident. She said, “Shush. Quit crying. We aren’t dead yet. There are others looking for us, and they care about our lives.”

“Who? The RAW? Your bosses? You just said they were no help. They want a reason to blame Pakistan. They’re loving this.”

“Not the RAW. The Americans.”

“Why would they care? They’re just as bad as the RAW. They’ve been paying the Pakistani ISI for years. After Afghanistan,

they want nothing to do with our part of the world.”

Nadia closed her eyes behind the blindfold, wanting to believe her next words. “My date to the party cares. And he’s more

than I told you. He’s going to come.”