Page 35 of Rising Tiger

When Khan called back, she could already hear the sound of the inbound chopper. It was a sleek, new HAL Dhruv, manufactured by Hindustan Aeronautics Limited and operated by the Indian Air Force.

The Dhruv took its name from the Sanskrit word for “unshakeable,” but today it was going to do some of the most serious shaking of its career.

Asha had rejiggered her launcher with a different set of munitions. Checking them one last time, she told the lance naik that she was good to go.

“As soon as you give the signal, then,” Khan replied.

Lining up the family, she gave them one final set of instructions, literal marching orders, and then unlocked the front door.

Even though she couldn’t see the helo, she knew where it was. Once the crew received her signal, it would move in.

Out on the street, the mob had not only regrouped: they were moving forward, back toward the house. Many had tied pieces of cloth around their faces in anticipation of another salvo of pepper spray.

Asha raised the launcher and fired one of the flash-bang-style warning rounds. It exploded over the heads of the crowd with another thunderous bang and a searing flash of light. A handful of shocked rioters skittered away, but after a chorus of surprised screams, the mob pressed ahead. That was when she loosed another aerial burst of pepper spray.

Those who thought cloth masks were going to protect them from the chemical irritant were sorely mistaken. Wave after wave of coughing and choking could be heard coming from the mob, which had appeared to have gained considerably in size. It was time to launch her third round—a smoke grenade.

Gathering up the family behind her, she counted to three, pressed her trigger, and began her evacuation of the Siddiquis.

Out on the street, they broke left, led by Ismat, while Asha covered them from the rear.

Upon seeing the cloud of blue smoke, the Indian Air Force pilots swooped in and provided what the local police wouldn’t—riot control.

In a maneuver known as a “hot wash,” the Dhruv came in low, less than fifty feet above the mob. Using the storm-strength downwash of its rotors, it created a hurricane of pain by whipping up dirt, sand, and debris, sending it everywhere.

The rioters tripped over and knocked each other down as they scrambled to get away.

Asha, Ismat, and the children were almost to Khan’s vehicle, when the police commander caught sight of Asha and shouted for her to stop.

When she refused and kept on running—urging the Siddiquis forward—the officer ordered his men to move in.

Asha had one more round in her launcher and she let the commander and his men have it.

Just as she had done earlier in holding back from flipping him the finger, she maintained her professionalism. She didn’t use a WASP munition or one packed with pepper spray. Rather, she used another blue smoke grenade.

Whether the commander and his men chose to stand there as the helo barreled down on them to deliver another hot wash was their problem.

By the time the helicopter had arrived overhead, Asha had reunited Sergeant Siddiqui with his family, they had all wedged into Khan’s Maruti Gypsy, and they were on their way back to Sulur Air Base.

CHAPTER 20

Asha was well aware that Siddiqui was upset and wanted to console his family, which made this the right time to question him. He owed her and she was ready to collect.

The fact that the rumor had spread so quickly and had sparked such a horrible reaction bothered her. But not as much as the fact that someone with inside information, someone connected to the air base, had leaked it.

When she asked the flight mechanic who he thought it might be, he didn’t have a clue. In fact, he hadn’t even known who was going to be on the helicopter, only that it was some sort of VIP group. He had assumed that meant politicians or military personnel.

According to Siddiqui, he and his team were always meticulous, regardless of who was flying. Every life was precious and it was his duty to see to their safety.

However, because of the VIP designation, they had not only done their standard, focused tip-to-tail preflight examination of the helo; they had also done a much more intensive inspection, sampling fuel and hydraulic fluid, swapping out certain electronic elements in advance of their expiration, and undertaking a host of other abundance-of-caution items. In short, the helicopter was in above-tip-top condition.

When Asha then asked Siddiqui what he thought had happened, he hung his head. “I knew the pilots. I respected them. They were my colleagues. I do not wish to disparage them now that they have died.”

“But it is critical that we figure outhowthey died,” she replied, tryingto coax him. “If nothing else, to prevent something similar from happening in the future.”

The flight mechanic exhaled a long breath through his nostrils and then said, “CFIT.”

Asha was unfamiliar with the term. “CFIT?”

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