Read Online BLOWBACK by Mukul Deva - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mukul Deva
Tags: Fiction
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mini convoy were Toyota Landcruiser SUVs and the two in between were the Toyota Hiace minibuses that are so common in Pakistan.
There was a long pregnant silence as the unseen occupants of the dust-laden convoy surveyed the gory scene of the shootout. Tanaz’s breath seemed to stop and she gripped the weapon tightly with both hands. Every fibre in her body screamed at her to lunge into action.
But at what? Whom?
The answer to her questions emerged as the doors of the lead Landcruiser opened in tandem and four men stepped out. They were all heavily bearded and dressed in identical dark Pathani suits. All four carried 5.45 mm AK-74 assault rifles in their hands.
With a sinking heart, Tanaz saw the rifle muzzles train on her. There was no way she could match that kind of firepower. The slightest move would mean certain death for Iqbal and her.
‘What happened here?’ the man who had emerged from the co-driver’s seat called out. Marked with an unmistakable Afghan accent, his tone was devoid of emotion, as though he was inquiring about the weather.
‘There was an… an altercation.’ Tanaz tried to keep all traces of fear and nervousness out of her voice.
‘Step away from the vehicle and drop the weapon in your hand,’ the man said, again in the same flat tone.
‘I’ll step away if you want, but I won’t drop my weapon.’ Tanaz made sure she remained perfectly still as she spoke. ‘Not until I know who you are and what you plan to do with us. If you mean us harm, I promise I’ll take at least a few of you…’
Her words brought a faint, derisive smile to the impassive faces of the quartet facing her. ‘Who are you, woman?’
‘I am a believer… a mujahideen.’ Tanaz’s intuition guided her reply.
‘What happened here with them?’ He pointed at the dead army men strewn around.
‘They saw my husband was wounded... they thought I was a helpless woman all alone and…’
‘Where is your husband?’
‘In there.’ She gestured at the station wagon with her weapon.
‘Is he still alive?’
‘Yes, he is, but he is badly injured. I need to get him to a doctor quickly.’
‘Where were you two headed?’
‘We’ve just returned from a mission from across.’ Tanaz gestured vaguely towards the Indian border. ‘We were on our way back to rejoin our group when this happened.’
‘Which group?’
‘The Lashkar,’ Tanaz replied without hesitation, knowing it was the safest one to name since it was large enough to accord them the anonymity they desperately needed right now.
‘Wait!’ the man commanded. ‘And don’t make any sudden moves.’ He turned and walked back to the Hiace minibus. He opened the door and leaned forward to talk to someone, his demeanour clearly deferential. A long moment later, he shut the door and began to walk towards Tanaz. He must have muttered something as he passed the other men because they all shouldered their weapons.
‘Come on, woman. Let’s get the two of you out of here.’
Aware that her options were limited, Tanaz lowered her weapon and asked, ‘Who are you? Are you also mujahideen?’
‘What did you think? The Salvation Army?’ the leader grunted sarcastically, his words eliciting a short, barking laugh from the other men. ‘Come on. Let’s get a move on. We need to get clear of this area before someone else lands up.’
Two of them reached inside the station wagon and hauled out the still unconscious Iqbal. The other two quickly gathered all the arms and ammunition they could lay their hands on from the fallen Pakistani soldiers. Tanaz hurried behind them as they carried Iqbal and laid him on the rear seat of the second Hiace minibus.
‘He has been shot badly,’ the man carrying him said to Tanaz as he put Iqbal down. ‘Try and keep him as still as possible. If he loses too much blood...’ The man shrugged.
‘How long before we can get him to a doctor?’ Tanaz asked worriedly.
‘Not long,’ he muttered, ‘maybe an hour at the
There was a long pregnant silence as the unseen occupants of the dust-laden convoy surveyed the gory scene of the shootout. Tanaz’s breath seemed to stop and she gripped the weapon tightly with both hands. Every fibre in her body screamed at her to lunge into action.
But at what? Whom?
The answer to her questions emerged as the doors of the lead Landcruiser opened in tandem and four men stepped out. They were all heavily bearded and dressed in identical dark Pathani suits. All four carried 5.45 mm AK-74 assault rifles in their hands.
With a sinking heart, Tanaz saw the rifle muzzles train on her. There was no way she could match that kind of firepower. The slightest move would mean certain death for Iqbal and her.
‘What happened here?’ the man who had emerged from the co-driver’s seat called out. Marked with an unmistakable Afghan accent, his tone was devoid of emotion, as though he was inquiring about the weather.
‘There was an… an altercation.’ Tanaz tried to keep all traces of fear and nervousness out of her voice.
‘Step away from the vehicle and drop the weapon in your hand,’ the man said, again in the same flat tone.
‘I’ll step away if you want, but I won’t drop my weapon.’ Tanaz made sure she remained perfectly still as she spoke. ‘Not until I know who you are and what you plan to do with us. If you mean us harm, I promise I’ll take at least a few of you…’
Her words brought a faint, derisive smile to the impassive faces of the quartet facing her. ‘Who are you, woman?’
‘I am a believer… a mujahideen.’ Tanaz’s intuition guided her reply.
‘What happened here with them?’ He pointed at the dead army men strewn around.
‘They saw my husband was wounded... they thought I was a helpless woman all alone and…’
‘Where is your husband?’
‘In there.’ She gestured at the station wagon with her weapon.
‘Is he still alive?’
‘Yes, he is, but he is badly injured. I need to get him to a doctor quickly.’
‘Where were you two headed?’
‘We’ve just returned from a mission from across.’ Tanaz gestured vaguely towards the Indian border. ‘We were on our way back to rejoin our group when this happened.’
‘Which group?’
‘The Lashkar,’ Tanaz replied without hesitation, knowing it was the safest one to name since it was large enough to accord them the anonymity they desperately needed right now.
‘Wait!’ the man commanded. ‘And don’t make any sudden moves.’ He turned and walked back to the Hiace minibus. He opened the door and leaned forward to talk to someone, his demeanour clearly deferential. A long moment later, he shut the door and began to walk towards Tanaz. He must have muttered something as he passed the other men because they all shouldered their weapons.
‘Come on, woman. Let’s get the two of you out of here.’
Aware that her options were limited, Tanaz lowered her weapon and asked, ‘Who are you? Are you also mujahideen?’
‘What did you think? The Salvation Army?’ the leader grunted sarcastically, his words eliciting a short, barking laugh from the other men. ‘Come on. Let’s get a move on. We need to get clear of this area before someone else lands up.’
Two of them reached inside the station wagon and hauled out the still unconscious Iqbal. The other two quickly gathered all the arms and ammunition they could lay their hands on from the fallen Pakistani soldiers. Tanaz hurried behind them as they carried Iqbal and laid him on the rear seat of the second Hiace minibus.
‘He has been shot badly,’ the man carrying him said to Tanaz as he put Iqbal down. ‘Try and keep him as still as possible. If he loses too much blood...’ The man shrugged.
‘How long before we can get him to a doctor?’ Tanaz asked worriedly.
‘Not long,’ he muttered, ‘maybe an hour at the
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