He checked his fuel and found he had enough for no, so he punched afterburners and dived through the cloud cover. The enemy contact was not far, and he could see the unmistakable silhouette of a Boeing-777…
“What the hell?” His wingman blurted out. “What’s a civilian airliner doing here? And why was it being protected?”
“I have no clue, dagger-alpha-four.” Grewal responded. “Dagger-alpha elements: standby. Do not kill this bird. We need to call this one in.” He changed comms: “mongol-two, we have a bit of situation up here! A Pakistan-International-Airlines Boeing-triple-seven is in the skies and we intercepted it heading west out of Pakistani airspace under fighter protection. We nailed the two experienced fighter escorts. There is something going on. We require instructions. Over.”
“Uh, roger, dagger-actual. Can you force the aircraft to comply? Over.”
Grewal pulled up alongside the B-777: “out here in the middle of enemy airspace? That’s a big negative. This aircraft is heading to Peshawar. It diverted course as we showed up!”
There was several seconds of silence on the comms. Grewal took that time to look closer at the airliner flying parallel to him. The windows on the side began opening and he could see passengers inside.
Good god. Could this be an evacuation flight? “Mongol-two, there are possible civilians on board! Over.”
“Roger, dagger-actual. You are advised to let the aircraft go. I say again, let it go. Over.”
“Mongol-two, understand that this aircraft may have originated from Sargodha airbase. This may be an evacuation flight. Out.”
Grewal gave the aircraft a last look and pulled away, not exactly sure what he had just seen or what it meant. Scenarios ran through his mind. Could it be families of senior Pakistani military officers? Could that explain the escorts and the determined efforts of the two Mirage-III pilots? Were they fighting to protect their families? But why not evacuate by road? Granted that any association with the Pakistani military was liable to get a person killed in the tribal hinterlands, but why not try to bribe their way out? The sea option was not possible now that the Indian navy was laying siege in the Arabian sea. The aerial route had been desperate and risky. But why do it at all? Why not just leave them where they were. Surely they would be safer in their homes? The only reason the Pakistani command might be wanting to get their families out using such a high risk way was because staying where they were was considered by them to be riskier…
Grewal felt a shiver go down his spine. As his aircraft flew over the burning remains of the Chushma reactor complex, his mind was occupied by that realization. The blazing reactor buildings below and the sweeping jaguar strike fighters strafing what remained was just a sideshow to him now. A dreaded feeling took over as he wondered how close they were to pushing Pakistan over the edge…
30
“Surely you are not surprised?” Potgam asked blandly.
The room went silent as all eyes focused on the prime-minister. He looked at the army commander: “just that it is all going down so fast! It is cascading out of control!”
Potgam nodded. And so did Ravoof and several others.
“The decision to strike their power complexes and nuclear reactors was correct and the execution has been successful,” Bafna said as he reviewed his notes. “Pakistan is dark. Our armored forces are deep inside Pakistan in the desert and the Pakistani line-of-control defenses have been smashed.” Bafna cleared his throat and then looked at Potgam: “the strike across the Punjab border and near Lahore is proving costly…”
“It is.” Potgam said flatly. “The advance to the city has been stalled thanks to the jihadis. But mark my words, the city will fall. If not tomorrow, then few days from now! We will not allow that cesspool of jihadists to remain standing. Our artillery is already turning the city to rubble. The airport is already destroyed. And…” Potgam stopped as Ravoof jabbed his finger on the table and leaned forward.
“And what happens after the city falls?”
“What do you mean?” Potgam cocked an eyebrow.
“I mean, what is the end-game scenario here? Assume for a second that we reduce the resistance in the city to ashes and march in. What happens? How will the Pakistanis react?”
Potgam sighed and leaned back in his chair: “I am not Hussein. I cannot imagine what he will do next.”
“On that note,” Bafna turned to Bhosale: “what’s the debrief on your pilot who intercepted the escaping Pakistani-airlines aircraft?”
“What’s this about?” The prime-minister asked worriedly.
Bhosale nodded slightly: “yesterday, our combat aircraft intercepted a Pakistani-airlines aircraft escaping out of Sargodha airbase in Pakistan. This airliner was being escorted by two enemy aircraft which our boys destroyed. The airliner turned north and flew out of the combat zone.”
“And why is this important?” Ravoof asked.
“It’s important,” Basu interjected, “because we believe the Pakistani high-command was ferrying their families out of the country.”
“But why?” The prime-minister asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Basu replied neutrally, as though teaching a bunch of students. “The Pak army doesn’t want their families to be on the ground when all hell breaks loose with nuclear weapons. This is the surest sign. We are getting indications of this from all our intelligence sources.”
“Good god!” The prime-minister said and let out a breath as he stared at the table.
“My god, man,” Bhosale said angrily to Basu, “how about you boys let us in on things like this as you get them?! I would prefer not to get these snippets of information as a fucking ‘by-the-way’!”
“What the hell are you shouting at me for?” Basu retaliated and then looked at Potgam: “if your military-intelligence boys weren’t shutting us civilians out of the loop, I would be much more happy to share what my boys are gathering deep inside enemy territory! And what the heck is your vaunted M-I doing, anyway? How is it that this is the first you are hearing about Pakistani nuclear plans?”
“Gentlemen! Please!” Ravoof interjected with a wave of the hand before the seething service chiefs could pounce on the diminutive RAW chief. “We are all on the same team here! Check your inter-departmental rivalries! Coordinate with each other or we are all going to be dead by end of the week!”
“So what do we do?” The prime-minister asked. “Should we let the Pakistani government know that any use of nuclear weapons will be responded in kind?”
“They already know all that!” Basu said irritably. “Why do you think they are trying to get their families out?”
“Besides,” Ravoof continued, “who would you even talk to? All our indications are that the Pak military in charge now. That means Hussein and his cronies. The government has been shunted out. Considering the jihadist fervor on the streets, there isn’t much even the Pak army can do now.”
“So what are you saying?” Bafna asked.
“I am saying that Hussein has already demonstrated that he is not above using nukes against us. Just ask the citizens of Mumbai. I don’t think he is going to stop now. Especially with us pounding down the door on Lahore and putting the entire country in darkness. This has only one outcome.”