Rising Tiger: A Thriller (30)
Lance Naik Khan deftly navigated the airfield and got them to the main gate just in time to see a white Tata Tigor exiting the base and accelerating as it turned right onto the main road.
There was a backup of cars ahead of them. Asha told Khan to go around them. When Base Security tried to wave them down and halt their vehicle, she had the lance naik give a quick hit of the strobes and bark the Klaxon. They weren’t stopping for anything. She wasn’t going to risk losing sight of Siddiqui.
Wherever the man was headed, he was hell-bent on getting there as fast as possible. Traffic was light, but as they got closer to the main part of town, it began to pick up.
Siddiqui started weaving in and out. It was not only making it difficult to follow him, but it was also incredibly dangerous. He was going to get somebody killed.
When the flight mechanic blew through a red light, Khan was forced to follow and missed being in a collision by mere inches.
Asha had had enough. She instructed the lance naik to reengage the strobes and Klaxon. Technically, any authority the DSC had ended at the exit of the base. At this point, however, all she wanted to do was get him to pull over and stop.
Siddiqui wasn’t interested. In fact, he sped up and began executing even more aggressive maneuvers. What the hell is wrong with this guy? Asha ordered Khan to stay with him.
In a narrow street in the Ganapathy neighborhood, the chase ended—at least the vehicle portion.
A delivery truck was stopped and there was no getting around it. There was no backing up, either. Siddiqui was boxed in and decided to abandon his car.
Pulling out her cell phone, Asha activated the voice memo feature and had the lance naik quickly rattle off his number. Then she exited the vehicle and headed after Siddiqui on foot.
He was significantly older than her and nowhere close to her level of physical fitness, yet he was as quick as lightning and moved like a man possessed. A car crash, she was realizing, was going to turn out to have been the least of her worries. This guy was going to drop dead any moment from a heart attack or a stroke.
Like Mumbai, the streets were packed with people coming and going, getting ready for another evening of Diwali. It made it difficult for Siddiqui to navigate. Asha was closing in on him.
They ran past a small hardware store and a popular party-themed chain called the Cake Point.
Near a shop that sold refurbished car and motorcycle tires, she was close enough for him to hear her. Yelling out his name, she ordered him to stop. He glanced briefly over his shoulder, but kept going. That was the last straw.
Kicking it into high gear, she ran as fast as she could—a full-out sprint. She didn’t slow down until she was close enough to reach out and grab the back of his collar. But that wasn’t what she did.
Instead, on a piece of rough, uneven pavement, she thrust both arms out and gave him a massive shove.
Siddiqui hit the ground so hard, he bounced.
Before he could get to his feet, Asha had her boot on the back of his neck and her gun drawn.
“Sergeant Siddiqui,” she said. “What you do in the next several moments will impact the rest of your life. I urge you to choose very carefully. Why are you running?”
On the ground next to him was his phone. He began to move his fingers toward it. Asha applied pressure to his neck, sending a bolt of pain through his body.
“Please,” he begged. “Help me.”
She eased off, but only by a hair. He picked up the phone and offered it to her. On its cracked screen, a video was being livestreamed. The comments were abominable.
Taking her boot off his neck, she helped the flight mechanic to his feet. “How far?” she asked him.
“Three more blocks.”
“Run!”
CHAPTER 18
Securing her weapon, she took off along with Siddiqui. Arriving at a scene like the one playing out on the livestream, with a gun in your hand, was a very dangerous idea. If she did have to pull her Glock, it was going to be because all other possibilities were exhausted.
They covered the three blocks quickly, slowing down only when they began to see the crowds. This is where Asha was forced to take over.
Removing her cell phone, she pulled up the voice memo from Khan, punched in his number, and told him where they were and what the situation was.
Then she turned to the flight mechanic and told him the words she knew he wouldn’t want to hear. “Sergeant Siddiqui, you must remain here.”
“But my family—” he began.
Asha held up her hand. “If this mob sees you, they will tear you apart. You are no good to your family dead. I will get to them and I will protect them. I promise you. Wait here for my colleague. He will see to your safety.”
Siddiqui knew she was right, but being this close to his family and not doing anything felt incredibly wrong. It was his job to protect them, not hers. They were under attack and there was nothing he could do. It made him feel ashamed.
“What is your wife’s name?” she asked.
“Ismat.”
“Call her. Tell her help is coming. Remind her to stay inside the house, stay away from the doors and windows, and to remain calm. Everything is going to be okay.”
The flight mechanic nodded and Asha headed toward the inflamed mob. She hated the internet for this very reason. Everyone in India had a cell phone. The rapidity with which rumors could be started and her fellow citizens could be whipped into a frenzy was disgusting.