Page 72 of Into the Gray Zone

Without another word he took off up the stairs and disappearedfrom view. I tested my legs, seeing they functioned, and I realized I hadn’t been harmed in any meaningful way. It was a miracle.

In seconds he was back, saying, “Got it. Can you run, or do I need to carry your ass?”

“I’m good. Go, go.”

We made it to the bottom before anyone arrived to come up, but they would soon, and if we were caught in the stairwell, we’d have some explaining to do.

Brett paused, took a glance out, then shook his head. A group of tourists raced by, all chattering in Hindi. He flicked his head out again, then leapt over the rope. I followed and we were in the hallway again. Brett went right, away from the entrance to the palace to avoid the initial scrum of authority that he knew was coming. The hallway ended in a little alcove with a window overlooking the valley, and we stopped there, listening to the shouts echo through the stone.

I heard the sound of boots thumping toward us and we waited until a horde of security guards and men in Army uniforms went up the stairs, then started walking back like we were confused American tourists. A guard was shouting and waving his arms, telling everyone to get out of the palace. We, of course, followed his instructions.

We reached the courtyard and I saw the army side of the fort starting to boil over, a wave of uniforms coming toward us like someone had kicked over an ant pile.

In two minutes we were back with the chipmunk men, only they were no longer looking to hand them off. They, like everyone else, were being directed to leave the fort, a steady stream of people forced back toward the entrance.

We went past the metal detectors in a growing mob of tourists and reached the street where we’d left Jennifer. We walked away from thefort on the main road, toward the Taj Mahal, and Brett said, “Well, that didn’t go like we’d planned.”

I chuckled and said, “We’re out and free, so I’ll take it as a win. Let’s see if we can’t get a cab before they’re all taken.”

“What’s the next step?”

“Get to a hotel with Wi-Fi and get this cell phone connected to Creed. He needs to drain it for information, because that attack made no sense whatsoever.”

Chapter43

The bartender asked Mr.Chin if he’d like another old-fashioned, and Mr.Chin said, “No, you’re right. Another one will bite me. May I have a glass of water and a menu, though?”

The bartender smiled and slid across a menu, then went to get the water. Another couple came in, taking a seat two stools away. Mr.Chin nodded at them as if he was enjoying his time, but he most certainly was not.

He pretended to study the menu, giving him a reason not to engage with anyone, while his mind furiously tried to determine what had become of his mission.

The Americans were more formidable than he had envisioned, but they’d had nothing to do with stopping the attack on Thakkar. From what the Condor team leader had said, they wouldn’t have had the ability to execute. Given when the team had engaged, there wasn’t enough time to unravel what Mr.Chin had planned. They would have had to know the precise method and timing of the mission in order to stop it, and if they had known that, they could have simply had someone waiting to catch Kamal or his men. Or told Thakkar to skip his visit to the Taj Mahal.

But theydidknow something about the Agra Fort, or they wouldn’thave gone there. First they went to New Delhi while Mr. Chin’s team was there, then followed them to Agra, but always a step behind.

How?

Somewhere, there was a leak. But it couldn’t be anyone on Kamal’s team, or they’d all have been rolled up by the RAW immediately. And Kamal’s team were the only ones who knew. Somehow the Americans were getting breadcrumbs and successfully following them.

And then he remembered the two hardened men on Thakkar’s security detail, Jaiden and Rakesh. They were friends of Kamal and maybe they’d talked. Maybe Kamal had given generalities of what they were doing without specifics. Enough for them to tell the Americans, giving them a vague outline to follow.

But that theory also had holes. They were both willing to kill Thakkar in Goa, and had, in fact, set him up for it. Why would they try to stop it in Agra? They worked purely for money, and Mr.Chin had paid them well over the years. They didn’t care what occurred, as long as the money was right. And then he remembered: Goa was where that attack had been thwarted by the Americans.

Maybe those two were playing a double game, taking his money while also working for the Americans. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Thakkar was their meal ticket, and with him gone, they’d be out of work. Maybe they’d been taking Mr.Chin’s money all along while doing whatever they could to keep their benefactor alive. It would explain why they didn’t just insist Thakkar not go to the Taj Mahal, as they’d have to explain how they knew something was occurring. It would also explain why they let him have dinner on a patio at a resort in Goa when they knew a kill team was coming. They’d already told the Americans to prevent execution.

He felt the anger build, convinced he was right. Those two would have to be dealt with, but not before he completed his mission againstThakkar. He’d have to carefully construct his plan in such a way as to use their ability to get close while foiling any ability to thwart it.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a breaking news report. He turned to the screen and saw the outside of the Agra Fort, the same newsman who had been at the Taj Mahal giving a report. He was no longer calm and smiling, but sweating, his face a mask of serious concern, the area around him swirling with uniformed personnel and police cars with lights flashing.

Mr.Chin focused on the closed captioning coming across the screen, seeing that a terrorist attack had occurred at the fort itself, not the Taj Mahal.

He said, “Could you turn that up?”

The bartender did so, and Mr.Chin heard that an Islamic terrorist had tried to launch an explosive-laden drone from the roof of a palace on the grounds, but it had misfired, killing the terrorist.

So that’s what happened.

The reporter continued, saying it was a single man who initiated the attack, and authorities didn’t suspect any further danger. Authorities were trying to determine how the terrorist managed to smuggle explosives and a drone into the compound, suspecting he had inside help, and vowed to get to the bottom of the mystery.

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