37
“They did what?” Ravoof said as he leaned forward.
“You heard me the first time.” Potgam said from his operations center. He was on one of the monitor screens in the conference room on board the air-force’s Boeing-737 BBJ airborne-command-center aircraft. This aircraft was currently carrying the top cabinet and military commanders of the Indian government. A nuclear attack was expected by everyone; that it had struck Lahore, was not.
“General,” Bafna said from his seat, his face showing a mask of fear, “did we do it? Was it one of our commanders?”
Potgam’s face contorted to rage: “how dare you?! My men died out there! In the thousands! How dare you insinuate that it was one of us! May I remind you, sir, that this is the Indian armed forces we are talking about!”
“We are not Pakistan, Bafna.” Ravoof said before the situation exploded. He knew Bafna to be a petty man who would not take his ego being struck down in this manner. He also knew Bafna had crossed the line and there was no excuse. Not when the stakes were this high.
“But why would they destroy their own city to stop our forces?” The prime-minister asked, his voice shaking despite his attempts to hide it.
“Plausibility for a first-strike.” Basu said flatly from another screen. He had not evacuated from New-Delhi when the others had left for the safety of the skies. His work was better done from where he was. Cooped up inside a small cabin in the skies radically restricted his options and control of RAW operations. And now those operations were more critical than ever.
“Care to explain?” Ravoof said on behalf of the others.
“Makes sense that they would do this, no?” Basu continued musing. “Put yourself in Hussein’s shoes. They are losing this war. On all fronts. Our army has reached the critical highways deep inside their country. We are besieging all of their border towns and villages. The rampant call to arms for the jihadists has rendered thin the army’s control on the country. We have indications that the jihadists are looting and pillaging Pakistani towns and villages now. And all this scares the hell out of Hussein, Haider and the others. But if they launch the first strike, they are finished. Aren’t they?”
Potgam nodded: “we will crush them if they did that!”
“Exactly,” Basu continued. “And so would the rest of the world. Pakistan would cease to exist.”
“So what’s your point?” Bafna asked irritably.
“What if we were the ones who struck first? What if they made it look that we struck Lahore because we were unable to take it by conventional means? Or that we struck it in retribution for Mumbai? The waters get muddy very quickly at that point, don’t they?”
Ravoof muttered an expletive as he understood what Basu was getting at: “this is a frame up for a full-up nuclear strike!” The prime-minister just sank back in his seat.
“Or they are offering us a way out,” Basu added. “Lahore for Mumbai. Take it and quit while you are ahead. That’s what Hussein and his henchmen are saying to us.”
“Should we take it?” Bafna asked, turning to the prime-minister, who looked like he had aged immensely since this crisis had begun a month ago.
Not getting anything other than silence, Bafna turned to Ravoof, who shook his head: “take a peace deal under a nuclear threat?” He said to Bafna, “Is that really the message you want us to tell our citizens?”
“We are not bartering for our cities.” Potgam said flatly. “We didn’t buckle to the nuclear threat with the Chinese when they had missiles aimed at every one of our cities and even used them. And we are sure as hell not going to buckle to this two-bit Hussein and his generals.” His voice carried an authority unusual to those in the cabinet. But then again, Potgam was a battle-hardened veteran: he was not easily fazed. His sense of purpose stood like a rock wall in the face of a wave of doubts. In a way it affected all those in the room. Ravoof and Basu both noted this effect.
“Let’s talk response.” The prime-minister said finally.
“StratForCom is fully online.” Potgam replied. “We are at full launch readiness across the board. Nuclear warheads have been mated with delivery systems and we have strike packages ready. We can choose to strike any or all targets depending on the level of escalation desired.”
“Now hold on,” Bafna jumped in, “you are talking a nuclear response! What about continuing our conventional attack? Wasn’t that the point of all this? To destroy Pakistan’s ability to wage war? At what point did we start talking about destroying that entire country?”
“Sir,” Potgam added menacingly, “that threshold was crossed by the enemy two hours ago. Whether you like it or not, we are now in a nuclear war and we need to destroy the enemy before he destroys us!”
Ravoof shook his head: “We are in reaction mode here. And that can be dangerous. We need to consider this objectively. So far, we have suffered a few thousand dead in Lahore. Yes it has blunted our offensive, but we are still penetrating deep on the other fronts. And the Pakistanis just destroyed their own city! Their own city! Not one of ours, discounting Mumbai for a moment. If we are to strike, let’s strike towards our objective. The Pakistani air and naval forces are decimated. Their army is putting up a fight but is losing ground. Their defenses in Kashmir are in shambles. We have struck their nuclear and conventional power plants and have broken their back. Isn’t this correct?”
Potgam nodded very slightly, frowning because he could not tell what Ravoof was driving at.
“So,” Ravoof continued, “shouldn’t we stay the course and take out the senior Pakistani leadership? Shouldn’t that continue to be our endgame scenario? With the assumption, of course, that if the Pakistanis escalate with additional nuclear strikes, we can destroy their country to the last city and town? If there is even the possibility of preventing further nuclear detonations in our neighborhood, shouldn’t we try it?”
Potgam sighed: “I don’t fully agree with you, sir. But I do see your point.”
“So what the hell happened to Haider?” Bafna asked. “Wasn’t he the commander in Lahore? Basu, didn’t you have plans to locate and nab him?”
Basu leaned back in his seat: “before this mess, we had a team near Lahore poised to try and locate Haider and his officers and if possible, to terminate his command. That plan is still in play.”
“To what end?” Ravoof asked. “Surely Haider is dead in this explosion in Lahore?”
Basu shook his head. “If I know that son of a bitch, he will not allow himself to die that easily. He is used to sacrificing others for achieving goals. But he draws a clear line when it comes to self-preservation. He would rather let his nation fail miserably in the war but will not sacrifice himself to win it. He will toss as many bodies into the fire as needed, however. It’s just his character.”
“So he is probably alive?” Bafna asked.
“I would bet on it.” Basu added. “He has probably bugged out of Lahore before the detonation. He may even be hiding somewhere near Lahore.”
“But you are not sure.” Ravoof stated it for the group.
“Correct. This is pure speculation on my part.”
“Is there any way to confirm it?” Bafna asked.
“Only if that bastard tries to talk to someone over military comms,” Potgam replied. “With Pakistani skies under relative control, Bhosale and his electronic-warfare and signals-intelligence crews are working with Basu’s ARC boys over Pakistan. If Haider tries to talk to someone in Rawalpindi, we might be able to get a sneak-peek into his whereabouts.”
“That’s rather thin to go on.” Ravoof said neutrally.
“It’s all we have.” Basu said before Potgam could. “But Haider is not one to sit out the war on the sidelines. So expect him to make some noise. We just have to trust that bastard to stay true to character.”