Page 114 of Rising Tiger

When he got up to his room, he texted with Vijay. It was the last night of Diwali and he had accepted an invitation to celebrate with the ex-cop and his family.

They set a time to meet and Harvath asked if the man could fulfill a small request for him.

Vijay agreed and ninety minutes later pulled up under the hotel’s portico, where Harvath was waiting.

It was a gorgeous evening. The storms from the night before had moved through, bringing cooler, dryer air. The sky was clear and beginning to fill with fireworks. Vijay had the top down. “Boogie Nights” by Heatwave was playing.

As Harvath slid into the passenger seat, the ex-cop handed him a small gift. “Happy Diwali.”

“Thank you,” Harvath replied, handing him the piece of paper Gupta had given him. “Here’s where we need to make a quick stop.”

Vijay memorized the address and handed it back. “It’ll take us about twenty minutes to get there.”

“Perfect,” said Harvath.

As the ex-cop eased the Jaguar away from the Oberoi, Harvath pulled out the empty magazines for the pistol and began reloading them with the box of rounds Vijay had given him as a gift.

They didn’t talk much on the drive. They enjoyed the music while Harvath took in the sights and sounds of Delhi.

Because Diwali was such a family-oriented celebration, he had been concerned that the man he was going to pay a visit to would either not be home, or would be home but surrounded by family. Gupta had assured him that it wouldn’t be a problem.

The man was a contract killer without close, personal relationships or affiliations of any kind.

When they pulled over near the entrance to his building, Vijay turned up the Jaguar’s stereo. “I’ll just be here, listening to music. See you in what? Ten minutes?”

Harvath got out of the car. “If I’m not back in five, I’m not coming back.”

Closing the door behind him, he walked up the street to the apartment complex and stepped inside. At the mailboxes, he searched for the man’s name and unit number, cross-referencing it against the information Gupta had given him. It was a match.

Climbing the stairs, he slid one of the fresh magazines into his pistol and racked the slide, making the weapon hot.

Everything about the building’s construction was cheap and bottom of the barrel. That was a good sign.

Reaching the killer’s floor he walked down the hall, stopping to touch a couple of other apartments’ front doors.

They were crappy, thin, and flimsy. Unless the killer had gone to the trouble and expense to reinforce his, it would be exactly the same.

Arriving at the man’s door, Harvath was pleased to see lights on inside and to hear what sounded like a television.

He positioned himself where he could see the peephole and knocked. When a shadow appeared on the other side and stepped forward to peer through the hole, Harvath kicked the door in.

The door slammed right into the man’s face and sent him tumbling backward. Harvath stepped into the apartment and, before the man could raise the weapon in his hand, shot him twice in the chest and twice in the head.

When Eli Ritter’s killer fell to the ground, Harvath shot him again, just to make sure he was dead, and then left the building.

“All good?” Vijay asked as Harvath got back into the Jaguar.

“All good,” he replied. Holding the gun out, he offered it to Vijay. “Please tell your mother-in-law that I appreciated the loan.”

The ex-cop put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb. “You can tell her yourself when we get to my house.”

Vijay’s home was alive with family, music, cooking, and laughter. There were so many people there, Harvath couldn’t keep track of them all. A couple of them, however, stood out.

His wife was a lovely, demure woman, a bit on the quiet side. She obviously loved Vijay and he loved her right back. She welcomed Harvath and was extremely gracious, attempting to explain all the traditions as brightly garbed relatives and joyful chaos swirled around them.

When an older woman walked into the kitchen to check on the food, Mrs. Chabra excused herself and went to see if anyone needed a refill on drinks.

“I’d like you to meet my mother-in-law,” Vijay said proudly.

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