The Hunt for Shambhala

25

Decker and the others followed Agent Bhandari along the footpath leading out of the town and down the slope to the west. The Indian intelligence agent had spent weeks learning all about the plantation and the local area, and now their lives were in his hands. Ahead of them, the sun was sinking behind the ridge of a ragged mountain range and away from the gentle bustle of Darjeeling the night was quieter now.

Diana moved forward and joined Bhandari. “I had no idea slavery was so common in India.”

Bhandari offered a businesslike nod. “Sadly, yes. Trafficking people into slavery on tea plantations is more common than you would think… even children in some cases. It is easy for a man like Madan to have people abducted and then force them to work on his estates.”

“It’s terrible.”

“Many of the most popular brands of tea in the West are made from tea picked by slaves. Even if they are paid, the wages are so low it’s practically the same thing.”

“All right, Bhandari,” Decker said, joining the conversation. “What’s Madan likely to do with our people?”

Bhandari gave a sympathetic shake of his head and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I think he will kill them — if he hasn’t already done so. If they are alive then he will be keeping them close to him. He is no fool.”

“Where?”

“The private residence is in the north, obscured by a small magnolia forest.”

“And you said he had around two dozen men — is that right?” Riley said.

“Yes. He has men watching the pickers out in the fields during the day, and there are others who hang around the inner compound — his personal security. One of them is a very special type of bastard. His name is…”

“Kaleka?” Decker said.

Bhandari turned to face him. “You have met this man?”

“Oh, sure,” the American said. “I thought people like him only existed in James Bond movies until a few days ago.”

“Sadly, no.”

“Why is he like that?” Diana asked, referring to his notorious strength.

“No one really knows, but some say he has a rare medical condition that has increased his muscle mass. That is where he gets his strength. When he was young, he was not allowed to keep pets because he killed them all by accident… snapped their necks when he hugged them.”

“Can you be more precise in the number of guards?” Riley said.

“Between twenty and thirty — and armed with automatic weapons,” Bhandari said, glancing at the Glock in Decker’s belt. “I’m so glad you came prepared.”

“Right,” Decker said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “I could say the same about you.” As he spoke he indicated the Herstal P90 slung over the other man’s shoulder.

Bhandari laughed. “It’s not even standard-issue,” he said. “It’s a private weapon I keep at my home. Arjun’s revolver is also his personal gun.”

“It’s better than nothing, I guess.”

“Tell me, Mr Decker — what are you doing in this part of the world?”

“I really have no idea,” he said. “I was just trying to deliver some cats.”

Johar and Bhandari both frowned. “I don’t understand — ah… we’re at the river.”

They had reached a narrow stream around six feet across with a few rocks scattered here and there. Bhandari skipped across it like a mountain goat, and Johar followed next. Riley went third and then Decker held back while Diana crossed.

“All right,” she said as she made the other side and Riley pulled her up onto the opposite bank, “how much further now?” She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the low sun and scanned the mountains looming ahead of them. Clouds were gathering along the ridgeline and obscuring some of the higher peaks.

“It’s just over that hill over there,” Bhandari said, nodding to a low tea-covered rise to their left. “Once we get over the top of that slope we will be on Madan’s property.”

“That’s good news,” Diana said.

“That’s not the good news,” Riley said. “The good news is that he’s probably got at least twenty armed men guarding the place and we’ve got one automatic pistol, a revolver and a PDW between the three of us.”

“Yes,” Decker said with uncertainty. “There’s that too.”

The banter quietened as they trudged up the final hill, weaving between the rows of waist-high tea bushes. As they reached the top of the hill Bhandari gave the signal for them to squat down until they were hidden by the crop and then he crawled forward with the binoculars. After assessing the scene he handed the binoculars to Decker.

There was no doubt they were in the right place. The main compound was modest and surrounded by several outbuildings, but the giveaway was the men sitting in an open-top Jeep with Kalashnikovs slung casually over their shoulders or propped up on the rear seat. The American was willing to bet his plane that not too many commercial tea gardens required men armed with Soviet-era automatic rifles to keep the tea pickers in line.

“We in the right place, boss?” Riley said, and crawled forward to join the ex-Marine.

“Hell yeah,” Decker said, handing him the binoculars. “Four armed guys at two o’clock just for starters.”

“And plenty more where they come from, I’d say,” the Australian said.

They waited in silence for another half an hour, just watching the clouds whipping around the snow-capped peaks above them and enjoying the tea-scented air. The quiet moment was broken by Johar who crawled over to them with a businesslike smile on his face. “Bhandari says it’s dark enough to go in.”

They made their way down the slope in the darkness and reached the accommodation buildings used by the tea pickers. A few yards beyond it was the administration center where Madan’s estate management team ran the plantation during the day but tonight it was empty, dark and locked up.

Decker raised himself up on his toes and peered inside the accommodation block window. “All sleeping like babies,” he said.

‘Hardly surprising considering how hard they are worked during the day,” said Bhandari.

Ahead of them to the north was Madan’s residence. Most of it was hidden by the magnolia trees Bhandari had described earlier, but parts of the roof were visible above the canopies.

“Looks like it’s Showtime,” Decker said.

Lee Kuan smacked a fresh ten-round box magazine into the Škorpion and walked through the plan in his head just one more time. The Škorpion was a Czech machine pistol chambered for nine mil rounds which fired out of the muzzle at nine hundred bullets per minute. It felt good in his hands, and he knew how to handle it.

Which was just as well. Get caught on this mission and it was Game Over.

From his seat in the back of the stolen Indian Army KrAZ-6322, he leaned forward and gave more orders to Vòng who was at the wheel. “When we get to the gates, smash through them.”

The man nodded. “Yes, Boss.”

Through the muddy windshield Kuan now saw the machine shop and simulation facility of the Svarga Space Center. It all looked much larger than the pictures he had studied on the internet. There were three other men in the back of the KrAZ, but Kuan now turned his attention to the man sitting directly opposite him. Unlike the others who were all wearing black riot gear with face masks and holding machine pistols, this man was in civilian clothing, unarmed and sweating profusely.

“Now, Professor Khabir,” Kuan began, pushing the muzzle of the Škorpion into the terrified man’s left kneecap. “You are very sure you can get us into the center with your security clearance?”

Khabir nodded. “Yes. As I already told you, as a senior aerospace engineer I have access to all areas.”

“This is what I want to hear… good. And you remember what my men will do to your daughters if anything goes wrong today?”

The man looked down, his face contorted in deep, indelible anguish. When he spoke, it was through words choked with fear. “Yes… yes, I remember.”

“This is also very good,” Kuan said.

“The gates!”

Kuan looked from Khabir to the driver and saw the security booths up ahead. They were either side of the road which was blocked by the two flimsy boom gates.

“Smash through them!”

Two security guards saw the approaching military truck and waved for it to stop. When it failed to do so they pulled their pistols and started to fire at them.

“Get down!” Kuan yelled.

Vòng pulled his head down below the dashboard as the guards’ bullets drilled into the truck’s windshield in an attempt to stop the attack, but it was too late. They were going too fast and the attack was totally unexpected — Kuan knew from his research that the space center had never been attacked in all its thirty years.

The KrAZ blasted through the boom gates and increased speed as it raced toward the mechanics laboratory to the north of the enormous complex. Now they heard the sirens raging in the background as the guards alerted the base’s entire security force of the invasion.

“We have to work fast!” Kuan said to his men. “No one deviates from the plan.”

They skidded to a halt outside the laboratory and leaped out of the truck — Khabir at the end of a barrel of a gun.

“Do it, now!” Kuan yelled.

The confused Professor Khabir swiped his card through the lock and the outer door swung open. As they filed in, several security guards approached from the south and used the KrAZ for cover as they fired on the invaders. Vòng returned fire, killing two and forcing the third to retreat.

“Time’s running out!” Kuan yelled. “This place will be swarming with them in minutes. Activate the decoy explosives.”

Vòng pulled a remote detonator from his pocket and hit the button. Seconds later they heard the sound of deep, heavy explosions on the other side of the base. “That should keep them busy for a while.”

They jogged along an internal corridor, each man knowing exactly where he was going, and then reached another door. Kuan pushed the muzzle of his gun into Khabir’s back. “This is where you come in.”

Khabir nodded and wiped the sweat from his head. He swiped his card a second time but this time the door stayed shut. On the tiny security screen Kuan and Khabir saw the prompt at the same time.

The kidnapped professor raised a trembling hand and allowed the computer to take his palm-print. A gentle green glow swept up and down and then they heard the chunky door click open.

It opened to reveal a sterile laboratory and half a dozen scientists in white coats. They turned and stared at the intruders with a confusion that quickly turned to terror, and when they saw the machine pistols they scrambled in every direction.

Kuan ordered his men to open fire on the fleeing scientists. “Kill them!”

Khabir shielded his eyes from the slaughter as every last man and woman in the lab was ripped to pieces by the savage fusillade ripping from the muzzles of the intruders’ guns.

“You killed them all!” Khabir said, in shock.

“And your daughters will be joining them if you don’t do as you’re told, got it?”

Khabir got it, and nodded to show Kuan that he would be compliant.

“Good — now, where is it?”

“Over there.” Khabir raised a trembling hand and pointed at a small bomb no bigger than a suitcase. “That is the Yama I.”

“That’s it?” Kuan said.

Khabir nodded grimly. “That is it.”

“This has the power to destroy an entire city?”

“Yes… and I just hope God has mercy on me.”

“You won’t have to wait long to find out,” Kuan said, and fired the Škorpion into the professor’s chest at near point-bank range. He blasted him back into a shelf of lab equipment and his dead body crashed to the ground in a pile of smashed test tubes and leaking chemicals. “Get that out to the truck!” Kuan yelled.

He watched Vòng and the rest of his men load the weapon onto a small hydraulic forklift and drive it back along the corridor toward the parking area. Outside, most of the base’s security and fire team were heavily engaged in fighting the fires the decoy grenades had caused in the Avionics lab on the other side of the base, but several men with pistols were crawling all over the KrAZ.

When they saw the intruders they turned their weapons on them but the fire fight was short and savagely unfair. Kuan’s men outnumbered them three to one and had automatic weapons. Minutes later the Chinese triad boss and his team were weaving the forklift around the dead bodies of the security guards and loading the Yama I into the back of the truck.

Kuan clambered into the back of the KrAZ beside the bomb and banged on the back of the cab up front. “We’re out of here, Vòng,” he said. He turned and looked at the small nuclear bomb and a grim, nervous smile appeared on his face. “We’ll see who’s the Big Man now, Rakesh.”