Rising Tiger: A Thriller (97)
Harvath sat in a comfortable chair, a cup of coffee in his hand, on the other side of the one-way glass. Gupta sat next to him, taking notes on a blue pad of paper, puffing away on his pipe.
Raj had allowed Harvath to witness the interrogation, with the caveat that if things drifted too far into matters of state security, he might be asked to leave the room for a bit. Harvath had agreed to the terms.
It was fascinating to watch Raj work. For a man known for being tough and abrupt, those were not the traits he was exhibiting now. He came off more like a math tutor moving a reluctant yet capable student through the concept of linear equations. These were not insoluble problems he was presenting. The student had the pertinent data needed to come to the correct conclusions. It was all about having the will to do so.
That was Raj’s job—to help Durrani find his will and get him to make the right choice. If Durrani didn’t make the right choice, things were going to get ugly for him very quickly.
“Just so you understand,” Raj continued. “The downing of that helicopter was an act of war, by Pakistan, on India. It was completely unprovoked. I say that because I want you to know what the stakes are here. We are talking about our two nations going to war. Again. And believe me, if India chooses to do so, we are going to strike with such force that Pakistan will be reeling for years to come.”
Removing a handkerchief, the director of RAW’s Special Operations Division cleaned his glasses, completely comfortable with the silence in the room.
Then, placing them back upon his face, he said to Durrani, “Now, let’s talk about those doors I mentioned. Choose the right one, cooperate fully, and you can walk away a free man.”
* * *
The interrogation went on for hours. At one point Gupta leaned over and showed Harvath a text from Asha. No bone or arterial damage. She had been stitched up, bandaged up, and discharged.
Harvath was relieved to hear that. It had been a hell of a shuffle getting Amit out of the trunk, getting Durrani into it, and placing Asha on the backseat for the scramble to the nearest trauma hospital.
Once they had arrived, all he could do was drop her at the ER and wave a group of nurses over to assist.
After telling them how long the tourniquet had been on, he had leapt back into the car and driven off. Asha had insisted. She knew the importance of getting Durrani back to Raj and Gupta. And she had been right.
Putting Amit behind the wheel, they had driven straight to the Blind Relief Association. The men were outside waiting for them.
Harvath handed Amit back his phone and thanked him. Gupta then pulled the NGO worker aside, gave him money for a taxi, and delivered a very stern warning about national security and what would befall the man if he ever mentioned, to anyone, what had taken place.
With that loose end sufficiently tied off, Raj popped the trunk and took a picture of Durrani as Harvath double-checked the ISI operative’s restraints.
With Gupta then driving, they headed for the high-security detention and debriefing facility manned by the personnel of Special Group.
While Durrani was transferred to an interrogation room, Raj arranged for a team to retrieve all the surveillance gear from the lingerie shop. He then asked Harvath to take a walk with him as he smoked a cigarette.
“You saved Asha’s life,” Raj said. “Thank you.”
“She would have done the same for me. I don’t doubt it.”
“You also saw the mission through. Thank you for bringing us Durrani. What can we do for you?”
Harvath knew exactly what he could do for him. “I want to know who killed Eli Ritter and I want to know who has been pulling Durrani’s strings. Either you get him to talk or I will. I’m not leaving without that information.”
Raj looked around at the high, concrete walls, the razor wire, and all of the black-clad men toting machine guns. He smiled. “I think that’s the least we can do for you. Anything else?”
“Not at the moment, but I’d like to reserve the right to make one additional request sometime in the near future. Let’s see how everything pans out.”
Raj had nodded and they shook hands. He then laid out the ground rules for allowing Harvath to sit in on the interrogation and, as soon as they had each gotten coffee, Durrani’s questioning began.
Once he had made his choice and had agreed to cooperate, the details he revealed were mind-blowing. He knew the Indians had him against the wall. If he didn’t play ball, he’d spend the rest of his life in a deep, dark hole. Making a deal was the only way to go.
The extent of the network he had built throughout India was beyond impressive. He was one of the best recruiters Harvath had ever seen.
When Durrani identified the man hired to kill Eli Ritter, Harvath turned to Gupta and said, “I want everything you have on him. Including an address.”
Gupta pulled out his phone and sent a text. Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door of the observation room. There was a brief conversation and then the man closed the door and handed Harvath a file.
As Harvath read through the file, Gupta received another text. Flipping to a clean sheet of paper on his pad, he wrote something down, tore off the page, and handed it to the American seated next to him.
Harvath looked at the note, folded it, and put it in his pocket. He then settled back and watched the rest of the interrogation.
One of the most stunning things Durrani revealed was that the person who had brought down the helicopter carrying the Indian chief of Defense Staff was the same person who had been responsible for accompanying Asha during her investigation at Sulur Air Base—someone named Lance Naik Kamal Khan.