Omake Chapter: Prasad's night on the town.
1930hrs, 11 January 2014, Church Street/Brigade Road, Bangalore, India.
"We should not mourn for men of high ideals. Rather we should rejoice that we had the privilege of having had them with us, to inspire us by their radiant personalities." Indira Gandhi.
"Many millions of Indian youth do not have good jobs or affluent parents. They cannot afford the goods that dance so tantalizingly in front of their eyes on television." Mira Kamdar, Planet India.
The request had been an unusual one, for Sergeant…or shall we now say, Staff Sergeant Neela Prasad. After adding another chevron to her sleeve, she had been getting used to commanding a desk rather than being out in the field, but that was okay with her. It was always nice getting out there and beating the ever-living shit out of some child prostituting bastard, but if her talents were better off behind a desk, then so be it.
"Prasad." Prasad looked up from her paperwork to see Colonel Shanthi Krishnan looking down at her.
"I'm sorry ma'am," Prasad replied, standing up at attention before being waved off by Col. Krishnan.
"Not a problem. I've got a request for you."
"Yes ma'am, what is it?" It really wasn't like she could turn it down anyway, but oh well.
"Tomorrow on Saturday, I'm going to be meeting some important people from out of town. I would like you and Lt. Iyer to accompany me to the meeting place and to provide security."
"Me?" Prasad asked. "Er…of course. I'll do it."
"Thank you," Krishnan said back. "Lt. Iyer will pick you up from your quarters tomorrow, and you'll be briefed on the way there. You will be compensated for your time."
"Of course…" Prasad stammered out before Krishnan left, leaving her confused.
Now she was standing in front of the barracks, wondering what the hell was going on. Where were they going exactly? Who were they meeting? How long would it take?
Lt. Iyer pulled up in a swanky blue Suzuki Eritga, newly purchased by the 108th SIDF for their more covert operations.
"Evening, Prasad," she said, parking the car and getting out. "You can't go out looking like that."
She pointed to the khaki uniform that Prasad was wearing. "We need to keep a lower profile and blend in. I brought you these." She pulled some black slacks, and matching jacket, with a white blouse.
"They're in your size, I checked with SSgt. Chowdary about that."
Prasad frowned at the Western-style attire; besides the uniform that she wore everyday, the only other piece of Western clothing she had was a pair of jeans given to her by the NGO that helped raise her before she left to go work for the 108th. Even then, she didn't wear them, preferring to wear the Salwar Kameez or even saris, if she was feeling up to the task.
"You'll be fine," Iyer reassured, sensing Prasad's discomfort. "Go get changed, I'll wait right here."
Prasad took the clothes and hurried back inside. Five minutes later, she emerged, looking more like a student in an IT college than a soldier. The jacket and blouse covered her figure quite nicely, and the slacks fit snugly, but not too tight.
"Your shoes are fine," Iyer said to her, checking her out. "You look pretty good."
"Um…thanks." Prasad wasn't quite sure what to make of the clothing still.
"And here you go." The last thing that Iyer gave to her was a purse, holding a Browning Hi-Power and a couple spare magazines, just in case.
"How many different kinds of pistols do we have here?" Prasad wondered, seeing that everything from the Browning Hi-Power she had in her purse, the P226, the Glock 17, and even the old Webley Revolvers were still in service with the 108th.
"I have no idea. Chowdary keeps all of that in check."
After making sure that she was all squared away, Prasad got in the passengers' side (on the left side, not the right) and Iyer drove off toward Brigade Road.
Brigade Road, or informally, Brigades, was the swanky, hip place of Bangalore, filled to the brim with Western stores selling their wares to the ever eager under thirty crowd with money to burn. Nearby, snazzy bars and restaurants catered to the demands of the young, with plenty of booze and burgers on standby. As usual, the McDonalds and KFC were packed at all hours, but that still didn't mean the local places got their due as well.
"Where are we going?" Prasad asked, watching the ever busy Indian traffic zip by them.
"This Chinese restaurant called Three-Quarters Chinese."
"Chinese food…?" Prasad tried not to scrunch her face up too much. She didn't exactly like Chinese food all that much.
"You'll like it, don't worry."
Prasad wasn't convinced, but it really wasn't her call at this point. Iyer drove the car for short trip over to Brigade Street, passing by the large amount of traffic clogging up MG Road and making a left onto Brigade Street. The large neon signs, the big plate glass windows showing things that in a million years, Prasad would never be able to afford, and the general youthfulness and vibrancy was a shock to Prasad, even though it was part of India. There was nothing like this back in her humble hometown of Raichur, and it would probably never be.
Iyer had to bribe one of the security guards on MG road to get a parking spot, and soon after, they were walking toward Three-Quarters Chinese, which was located on Church Street branching off from Brigade Road. Along the way, Prasad saw a Ruby Tuesdays, which puzzled her immensely; what was so Ruby about Tuesday anyway? Just beyond that restaurant, the large sign for Three-Quarters Chinese popped up on the left. Prasad and Iyer walked up to the door, which were held open at the moment by some doorstops.
"Hello Madam, welcome to Three-Quarters Chinese. How many in your party?" the hostess asked in English as they walked in.
Iyer obviously responded. "Well, I've got a reservation, under "Iyer"?"
The hostess tapped on her computer. "Chandra?"
"No, Kavitha."
"Okay, let me check." Prasad couldn't really describe the hostess at the restaurant; she looked like she was from Mizoram or something like that. She had seen many people from the Seven Sisters, who looked more Chinese than they did Indian, but hadn't had much interaction with them during the course of her job.
"Alright, Kavitha. Seven in your party?"
"That is correct."
"Follow me please."
The hostess led the two of them to the back to the restaurant where a booth had been set aside for them. She set the menus on the table and motioned for them to sit.
"Enjoy your meal."
Iyer nodded to the hostess, and she left. Prasad gingerly set herself down at the end of the table and looked around the restaurant; it was busy but not too terribly crowded. The restaurant was huge in comparison to some of the other places she had been to, but the ceiling was extremely high and there was enough space to fit 300 people at least.
Iyer's phone buzzed. She took it out of her purse and stared at the screen.
"It looks like she's going to be a couple minutes late," she said. "She said to get her a gin and tonic and whisky for the rest of the guests."
"Uh…okay." Prasad didn't see what that had to do with her, but maybe Iyer was just thinking out loud.
Her phone buzzed again.
"Who is it this time?" Prasad asked, flagging down the waiter who was coming over to their table.
"It's my cousin. She's in hospital because of the entire terrorist attack thing."
"What's her name?"
Iyer was hesitant on that question. "Um…look, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but she was in Chennai when a bomb went off."
"Oh…I'm sorry."
"No one was killed, but she was very gravely injured. I'm a little bit worried, but without our efforts, many more people could have been killed."
"Well, we did the best we could, and I hope your cousin gets better," Prasad offered, still feeling a bit awkward.
"Thanks." It was weird, hearing that come out of her commanding officer, but even COs were people too, no matter how distant they seemed.
"Looks like Col. Krishnan is here."
Prasad turned around to see Col. Krishnan come into the restaurant, along with three other men. One was a medium sized man, with balding hair dressed in a long, flowing teal colored Kurta, with black slacks and a Nehru jacket, topped with a white Gandhi cap. That meant only one thing; he was a politician.
The other two men were sharply dressed white guys…they looked like they worked for a big IT company or something to that extent. Tailored suits, pressed shirts, snappy sunglasses with briefcases and even gold cufflinks. They lived a world apart than Prasad, who had grown up in rural India, with little to no infrastructure, including running water and electricity. These guys road around Bangalore in chauffeured cars with tinted windows, ignoring the poor people right outside their windows with not a care in the world. Behind them, a five man security detail followed quite obviously, with equally high end tailored suits and dark sunglasses. Prasad figured that they were also packing weapons as well. Two of them were seated near the entrance of the restaurant, while the other three sat at a table nearby. Prasad could hear the politician talking quite loudly, even for Indian standards.
"…and that would be very nice Colonel, it does smell at bit strange…ah, I see you've already brought drinks for us!"
Krishnan was out of her uniform, wearing a conservative, but comfortable red sari, complete with a matching Choli, and a dazzling pallau that was gold-patterned. It was draped casually down her left shoulder, to show it off to the rest of the world. "Yes Chief Minister, I informed my people about your drink order," Col. Krishnan said politely back to the CM. They walked over to the table, and Krishnan gave introductions.
"Chief Minister, this is Staff Sergeant Neela Prasad and Lieutenant Kavitha Iyer. They're probably some of the best soldiers I have in this unit."
"Namaskar," Prasad said to him, clasping her palms together and performing the standard Indian greeting. She tried to bend down and touch his feet, which the CM allowed. He was, after all, the one in charge. She wondered why the CM was travelling light; usually, a massive gaggle of people surrounded the CM at all times, but today, no one even batted an eyelash at his presence.
"Namaskar," the CM said to her. At least he was polite. Most politicians wanted nothing to do with the common classes except when it came to voting time.
Lieutenant Iyer did the same, and again, the CM was polite yet aloof in his interactions with them.
"This is a nice place you've picked out for us," one of the men in suits said to the CM. "Isn't that right Tom?"
"Yeah. Lots better than some of the places back home, that's for sure." Prasad couldn't exactly understand them, but they sounded American.
The six of them sat down at the table, with the CM's security team watching intently from their nearby table.
"Look, Robert…" the CM started to say to one of the white men, but was cut off, quite rudely.
"Please, just call me Bob."
"Okay, 'Bob'," the CM said to him, not exactly comfortable with his casual manner.
"I understand that the Naxalites are giving you more trouble nowadays," "Bob" said to the CM. Especially after that debacle on the 17th of last month."
"We were very lucky," the CM said to the man named "Bob." "Our Colonel Krishnan here, along with the 108th South Indian Defense force, was able to repel most of the attackers and capture a good deal of them."
"I'm sure that the Chief Minister is glad to have such a force on hand," "Tom" piped up.
"Yes, well, it was my idea, after all." Ego stroking was always a great way to get what you wanted, especially from politicians.
"Uh, excuse me…"
Everyone looked up to see a waiter standing at the foot of the table, waiting for their dinner order. "Can I take your order?"
"Um, give us a minute, why don't you?" Col. Krishnan politely said.
"Ahem, anyway," the CM continued, "We're worried after the terrorist attacks here that we won't be getting enough weaponry for our defence force here. What can you give us?"
"Are they clear to hear this?" Bob jerked his head at Iyer and Prasad.
"Yes," Col. Krishnan said. "Iyer has been cleared, and while Prasad has the proper credentials, she can't understand you."
"Oh. That's one way of putting it. Anyway..." Bob cleared his throat and got out his tablet computer, yet another iPad.
"My company can provide the necessary equipment, well, let's see what you need."
He tapped a few icons and read off a list that had been prepared for him earlier that day.
"Well, this certainly doable. 1000 M16A4s, 300 M203s, 100 MG4s, 200 Glock 30s, 200 MP5A5s, with ammunition for everything. Class IIA and Class III body armor, reflex sights, cleaning oil, moisture proof containers for storage…That won't be a problem at all."
"That's just for the unit here in Bangalore," Colonel Krishnan pointed out. "If all goes well with this initial purchase, we'll start buying for all the units in each state."
"How many units are there?" Bob asked. He obviously wasn't familiar with the geography of South India.
"There are four overall. One here in Bangalore, one in Hyderabad, one in Vellore, and one in Thiruvananthapuram."
The long name certainly took most people off guard, and Bob was no exception.
"Thiru…what?"
"Thiruvanathapuram," Krishnan said again. "It's the capital of Kerala."
"And the other two?"
"Hyderabad is in Andhra Prasad, and Vellore is in Tamil Nadu."
"Is that the capital of Tamil Nadu?" Bob asked.
"No, it is not."
"Why not the capital of Tamil Nadu then?" Tom asked. He hoped that there weren't too many political complications in dealing with the 108th, but it wasn't looking good at the moment.
"There were some complications," the CM grimaced. "I'm not at liberty to say, but the CM of Tamil Nadu, Smt. Rajiswathi Iyengar, is, well, she has her own agenda. Let's just leave it at that, okay?"
"Of course," Tom replied. He wouldn't, and he was probably thinking about doing some more research into the matter.
"Vellore works out for us anyway, because it's our training facility," Colonel Krishnan said. "It's not as densely populated at Chennai, and they gave us some leeway when it came time to building our facilities there."
"Well, thanks for answering my questions," Bob said back, shutting off his iPad.
"Excuse me…"
It was the waiter again. Despite all the talking, everyone did have some time to look the menu over.
"I think we're ready to order," Colonel Krishnan said. "I'll have the Bamboo fried rice."
Prasad saw some suspicious looking men come into the restaurant. What was so suspicious of them, she couldn't tell, but they just didn't seem right. Instead of the upper-middle class/rich people who visited this restaurant, they looked very emasculated and underfed, as opposed to the pot bellies and curves that one might find in a restaurant of this caliber.
She looked at the bodyguard detail that was sitting by the door…and they were slumped over in their chairs. A quick look around saw that the waiter who had served them earlier was quickly walking away from bodyguard's table and passing by the group of suspicious men. The waiter then nodded to the men as he walked out the glass sliding doors.
"Iyer. Iyer!" Prasad hissed at her.
"What?" Iyer hissed back.
"The guards at the front!"
Iyer turned around in her chair and immediately saw the bodyguards slumped over and the suspicious men.
"Contact!" She reached in her purse and pulled out an MP5K and moved immediately to engage the men. Prasad did the same, drawing her Browning Hi-Power and focusing on the lead man who was approaching their area.
"Stop where you are!" Iyer screamed in English, aiming her weapon at the group of five or so men.
"Stop!" Prasad repeated, this time in Kannada.
The men hesitated; the element of surprise now gone, and with a variety of weapons pointed at them, they were in a bad spot.
"Everyone, clear out, now!" Iyer ordered.
The tables next to the assassins (as Prasad figured) quickly emptied out, with the men just standing there, wondering what the hell they were going to do. They could have taken a hostage, but that opportunity had been lost.
Not the sharpest tools in the drawer, Prasad thought to herself.
"Chief Minister, we need to move, NOW!" The remaining bodyguards immediately surrounded the CM and moved him toward the exit.
"We got the situation under control here, move!" Krishnan yelled to the bodyguards. Picking the CM up by the collar, the bodyguards hustled toward the exit. Krishnan was about to yell to them to use the rear exit, but they were already snaking their way through the restaurant and she didn't want to let the attackers know what was going down.
"You two," she said to Bob and Tom. "Stay. Down." They complied, hiding underneath the table.
"Put your hands on your head!" Iyer ordered to the men. They didn't comply.
"Do it!" Prasad hoped that they would give up, but they really seemed to be paralyzed.
"Got an extra weapon on you?" Krishnan asked to Iyer, walking up behind her. Iyer nodded, pointing down at her purse. Krishnan bent down and retrieved a P228; she chambered it and switched off the safety, pointing it at the suspicious men.
"Last chance!" Iyer said for the final time. "Drop the weapons or we will fire!"
Krishnan kept glancing at the entrance; the bodyguards seemed to have everything in good order. Someone at this point would have called the police, so everything seemed under…
BANG!
…control.
A small explosion emanated from the front of the restaurant, cracking some of the windows. At the same time, the men all pulled out a variety of pistols and firearms tucked in their clothing.
Iyer saw this, and depressed the trigger on her MP5K. A stream of 9mm bullets zipped out and made contact with two of the men; they went down with blossoming holes in their chests. At the same time, Prasad quickly double tapped another one; his head snapped back, a huge hole in the back of his head forming where his skull used to be. The other two men ducked behind some tabled and opened fire with their weapons, causing the three of them to duck.
"Iyer, cover me!" Prasad yelled over the din. "I'll head around and flank!"
"On it!" Iyer reloaded her weapon and snapped out from cover, laying down another couple of bursts from her submachine gun. Krishnan added her fire to the fray as well, although she was a bit rusty on the accuracy part.
Prasad leapt over a table and into a booth, then kept moving to the left while the two gunmen were occupied with Iyer and Krishnan.
It only took a few seconds to get to the left of them, but as she took up positions next to a table, she had a perfect shot.
"Drop it!" Prasad yelled. It might have seemed easier just to shoot them, but they had to at least try.
Of course, they tried to turn around to shoot her, which didn't exactly work. Prasad emptied the entire clip firing into them, with round after round pumping into their bodies. They slumped over, dead.
"Nice shooting," Iyer said, running up to the bodies and kicking the weapons away. "Here."
She tossed a spare magazine to Prasad, who ejected the empty one and reloaded.
"Iyer, Prasad, on me," Krishnan ordered. "Problem at the front door."
The sounds of gunfire echoed through the empty restaurant, and the screams of some people outside could be heard.
"Let's stop these bastards!" Iyer growled. She had enough of people trying to kill each other in public places. The three of them booked toward the gunfire.
Outside, the situation was bad. The CM's protection was under heavy fire from several masked gunmen behind dumpsters, parked cars and even a bicycle rack.
"Dammit, we can't get to the car!" one of bodyguards yelled out, ducking behind a table on the outdoor patio. He pointed to a Hindustan Ambassador parked just twenty meters away. The two men guarding it were dead, killed by a grenade that had been the source of the loud "bang" earlier.
"Major John, we have a situation here on Church Street," Krishnan yelled into her mobile.
"Can't here you," Major John replied. "Say again."
"Major, get the police here NOW and scramble a squad of troopers to Church Street!"
That time, the message got through.
"Okay, hold those guys off and try to get the CM out of there. We'll be there in as soon as we can."
Krishnan hung up and ducked a couple of bullets sent her way.
"Hold them off!" Iyer fired a burst from her weapon, downing a target in the distance.
"Dammit, there's too many of them!" Prasad yelled, shooting a couple of rounds at the masked attackers before being forced to duck again.
"We gotta get to the car!" Krishnan yelled at the bodyguards. She could see a small opening and a blind spot where the shooters couldn't see them.
"We can't! Too much fire!" one of them shouted back.
"There's a small opening down the patio," Krishnan argued. What kind of bodyguards were these? It seemed like they were deliberately trying to get their boss killed.
Perhaps that was the case, Krishnan darkly thought to herself.
The sounds of sirens in the distance cut through the gunfire and spooked the attackers. They immediately ran away down Church street, firing as they went. The bodyguards took the opportunity to make a break for it, followed closely by the three 108th members.
"Let's move!" Prasad and Iyer took up positions looking down the street where the attackers had fled; they couldn't see them now, but they were probably there, somewhere.
"Get in, get in!" The CM was unceremoniously shoved into the car, bumping his head against the roof. The car tires squealed as the bodyguard behind the wheel floored the accelerator and almost took out Col. Krishnan in the process, who had shoved the minister into the car. The car was joined by several police units coming down Church Street, and they in turn were escorted from the scene. In the meanwhile, two familiar Toyota Qualises came flying down the street and screeched to a halt in front of the restaurant.
"Go, go, go!" A squad of 108th troopers piled out, their M16s and MP5s at the ready.
"They're down here!" Iyer yelled out. "This way!" She ejected her spent magazine and grabbed a fresh one from a trooper, and along with Prasad, the soldiers ran down Church street in pursuit of the assassins.
"Major John, thanks for coming and saving us," Krishnan said, looking at the squad search the area.
"Not a problem," John replied. "We came as fast as we could. Traffic was surprisingly light as well."
"Yeah, hmm." Krishnan was certainly proud of the 108th for having such a good response time as well as holding off the assassins. It wasn't ideal, but considering the circumstances.
"Oh dear."
"What is it?" John was pointing at Krishnan's sari; there were multiple bullet holes in the fabric, and it was stained with some food that had spilled during the battle.
"Hmm." That certainly wasn't good.
"I think I'll have to get that repaired," Krishnan said to John.
"It's such a nice sari too. Where did you get it?" John fiddled with the torn pallau, admiring its tarnished beauty.
"Some store near St. Mary's," Krishnan replied. "I don't remember which one though. It was run by a couple of Muslim guys. Nice people."
"It is safe now?" John and Krishnan turned to see the two men that had come with the CM were now standing on the patio, looking somewhat frightened.
"It's safe. We'll take you back to your hotel." Krishnan could not help but smirk at the two them, one of which had soiled himself during the battle.
"Dammit, this suit cost a lot," Bob griped, looking at the damage his bowels had done to his suit.
"You stink," Tom replied, giving him a look.
"Thanks for that."
Iyer and Prasad came running back, having searched the immediate area with the squad.
"Ma'am," Iyer said to Krishnan. "We did a search of the area, and came up with nothing. We'll continue with the search and…"
"That's quite alright," Krishnan said, raising her hand. "I need you and Prasad to take these two men back to their hotel and guard them until we can get some relief out for you."
"Which hotel are you two staying?" Iyer asked them.
"Uh, the Hotel Atria," Tom replied. "And thanks for the protection."
"No problem. Please follow me."
Major John handed Iyer the keys to one of the Qualises; they could all fit into one car, if they tried hard enough.
"What's that smell?" Prasad asked Iyer as they jumped into the car, with the two men in tow.
"I think one of them had an accident," Iyer replied, in Kannada. There were benefits of speaking multiple languages, and talking about someone right in front of their face was one of them.
"Hey, can we get a move on?" Bob asked. "I kinda need to change…"
Iyer smiled at him. "Of course." She stepped on the accelerator, and drove out of there.