Rising Tiger: A Thriller (83)

But before Harvath could shoot him, someone else had put a round right through the man’s head.

As the manager fell to the ground, Harvath saw a very good-looking woman holding a very serious, smoking Glock pistol.

“Sayed’s my prisoner,” she said, keeping both Harvath and Vijay within her sights.

“And who are you?” the ex-cop asked, tightening his grip on the gangster.

“None of your business.”

“You want our prisoner. After we did the work of capturing him. I kind of think it is our business.”

“I’ve got this, Vijay,” Harvath stated, pointing his pistol at the woman. “Keep walking this way.”

“I’m not going to say it again. Stop moving. I’m taking the prisoner,” she ordered.

From the glass doors at the front of the club, blue police lights could suddenly be seen.

“Mr. Sayed must have good friends at the local police station to warrant such a quick response time,” Vijay offered. “If we don’t all go together, none of us is going to get out of here. And this asshole, whoever’s prisoner he may be, is going to go free.”

The woman thought about it for a moment. Then, lowering her weapon and pushing her way through to lead the way to the back door, she said, “Follow me. I have a vehicle a few blocks away.”

“So do we,” Harvath replied. “But that’s not the plan. We’re not doing that. Especially not now with the cops starting to pour in.”

She looked at him. “What do you suggest, then?” she asked. “What’s your plan?”

“Come,” said Vijay as he nodded for Harvath to take the lead and keep going. “You’ll see.”



* * *



The abandoned building the ex-cop had selected was down a pitch-black alley less than two blocks away.

As expected, Sayed had been difficult to transport. At one point he had begun yelling and screaming for help. Vijay, however, had come prepared. Pulling a gag out of his pocket, he tied it around the man’s face.

He warned him that if he strained against it or tried to cry out, razor blades, courtesy of his old partner whom Sayed had tried to gut, had been sewn into it and he was in for quite a surprise. Needless to say, the man didn’t give them much additional trouble.

In the abandoned building, Vijay had pre-positioned a handful of supplies. As Harvath secured their prisoner to a chair, the ex-cop ignited a small camping burner and carefully placed a metal hubcap atop it.

The hubcap was filled with charcoal, which he ignited with a small kitchen torch. Once the coals were going, he dumped in the contents of a small plastic bag. There were nuts, bolts, nails, and what looked like roofing tacks, all of various sizes. Sayed, his eyes wide, was paying nervous attention to everything that was going on.

“Were you really a cop?” the woman asked as Vijay went about his work.

“For over three decades.”

She pointed at Harvath. “What about him? Something tells me he doesn’t work for the Indian Police Service.”

The ex-cop smiled. She had spirit. He liked that. “No. He’s with the U.S. government.”

“And who gave the U.S. government the right to violate Indian sovereignty and deny rights to one of its citizens?”

“Oh, God,” said Vijay. “You’re a lawyer. This night just got a lot worse.”

“I’m not a lawyer. Now answer my question.”

Careful not to burn his hands, the ex-cop used a towel to lift the hubcap and shake the contents, making sure that everything was heating evenly, before placing it back on the burner. “Not until you tell us who you are.”

“My name is Asha Patel,” she responded, done playing games. “I work for RAW. Mr. Sayed is wanted for questioning regarding an attempted kidnap and murder plot.”

“Of whom?”

She paused a moment too long, which caused Harvath to toss out an opinion. “He tried to have you captured, didn’t he? I’ll bet that was a mistake. How many of his guys did you take out?”

“Several,” she stated. “What’s your business with him?”

“He’s wanted for questioning in the murder of an American citizen in Jaipur.”

“So that’s why the United States government is involved. Does my government know that you are over here investigating?”

“Yes,” Harvath replied, cautious not to reveal too much. “And before we go any further, I want to—”

“What’s your name?” she asked, taking out her phone and prepping a text to Raj.

“Joseph Sampson,” he stated, providing the alias he was traveling under.

“Middle name?”

“John.”

“But you can call him JJ,” Vijay offered, winking.

Asha ignored him. “And the U.S. Embassy here in New Delhi will also vouch for you?”

Harvath nodded.

“Do you have a diplomatic passport?”

He removed it from his pocket and held it up.

“May I inspect it?”

“No,” said Harvath. “Not until we get some proof as to your bona fides.”

Asha looked up from her phone. “Fair enough. What would satisfy you?”

Harvath checked his watch. “Have someone at RAW contact the CIA station chief and confirm your identity for us.”