“They’ll be fine, mate,” Riley said.
Decker looked up, startled. “Huh?”
“We’re going to get them back safe and sound. It’s obvious you’re worried about them — we all are. Lena means everything to me. If anyone’s hurt them, they’re just dead men walking.”
Decker nodded, but didn’t know what to say. He was even starting to like Riley Carr in a strange sort of way. No matter his many flaws, one thing was for sure — Decker had never met anyone as loyal and optimistic in all his life as this mad, young Australian.
After Bhandari briefed them all on the layout of the plantation and gave as accurate an overview of the manpower and weapons there as he could, he and Johar moved away for a few moments. The two Indian Intelligence agents had a brief conversation in Hindi, glancing across at Decker and the other foreigners from time to time in a way the American thought was more unsettling than reassuring. Not for the first time he wondered if he could trust these people — yet more strangers he was expected to rely on if he was get out of here with his life.
“It’s time to go,” Johar said eventually. “Agent Bhandari says if we leave now it will be just after dark by the time we reach the plantation. This way we can find our way there safely but not be seen when we arrive.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Riley said. “Let’s get our friends back.”
“But remember — this could be dangerous,” Johar said.
Decker nodded. “I’m in.”
“And me,” Diana said.
They followed Johar and Bhandari out of the hotel and checked their weapons. “It’s now or never, I guess,” Decker said.
Riley clapped a hand on his shoulder. “It’s always now or never, mate.”
25
Decker and the others followed Agent Bhandari along the footpath leading out of the town and down the slope to the west. The Indian intelligence agent had spent weeks learning all about the plantation and the local area, and now their lives were in his hands. Ahead of them, the sun was sinking behind the ridge of a ragged mountain range and away from the gentle bustle of Darjeeling the night was quieter now.
Diana moved forward and joined Bhandari. “I had no idea slavery was so common in India.”
Bhandari offered a businesslike nod. “Sadly, yes. Trafficking people into slavery on tea plantations is more common than you would think… even children in some cases. It is easy for a man like Madan to have people abducted and then force them to work on his estates.”
“It’s terrible.”
“Many of the most popular brands of tea in the West are made from tea picked by slaves. Even if they are paid, the wages are so low it’s practically the same thing.”
“All right, Bhandari,” Decker said, joining the conversation. “What’s Madan likely to do with our people?”
Bhandari gave a sympathetic shake of his head and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I think he will kill them — if he hasn’t already done so. If they are alive then he will be keeping them close to him. He is no fool.”
“Where?”
“The private residence is in the north, obscured by a small magnolia forest.”
“And you said he had around two dozen men — is that right?” Riley said.
“Yes. He has men watching the pickers out in the fields during the day, and there are others who hang around the inner compound — his personal security. One of them is a very special type of bastard. His name is…”
“Kaleka?” Decker said.
Bhandari turned to face him. “You have met this man?”
“Oh, sure,” the American said. “I thought people like him only existed in James Bond movies until a few days ago.”
“Sadly, no.”
“Why is he like that?” Diana asked, referring to his notorious strength.
“No one really knows, but some say he has a rare medical condition that has increased his muscle mass. That is where he gets his strength. When he was young, he was not allowed to keep pets because he killed them all by accident… snapped their necks when he hugged them.”
“Can you be more precise in the number of guards?” Riley said.
“Between twenty and thirty — and armed with automatic weapons,” Bhandari said, glancing at the Glock in Decker’s belt. “I’m so glad you came prepared.”
“Right,” Decker said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “I could say the same about you.” As he spoke he indicated the Herstal P90 slung over the other man’s shoulder.
Bhandari laughed. “It’s not even standard-issue,” he said. “It’s a private weapon I keep at my home. Arjun’s revolver is also his personal gun.”
“It’s better than nothing, I guess.”
“Tell me, Mr Decker — what are you doing in this part of the world?”
“I really have no idea,” he said. “I was just trying to deliver some cats.”
Johar and Bhandari both frowned. “I don’t understand — ah… we’re at the river.”
They had reached a narrow stream around six feet across with a few rocks scattered here and there. Bhandari skipped across it like a mountain goat, and Johar followed next. Riley went third and then Decker held back while Diana crossed.
“All right,” she said as she made the other side and Riley pulled her up onto the opposite bank, “how much further now?” She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the low sun and scanned the mountains looming ahead of them. Clouds were gathering along the ridgeline and obscuring some of the higher peaks.
“It’s just over that hill over there,” Bhandari said, nodding to a low tea-covered rise to their left. “Once we get over the top of that slope we will be on Madan’s property.”
“That’s good news,” Diana said.
“That’s not the good news,” Riley said. “The good news is that he’s probably got at least twenty armed men guarding the place and we’ve got one automatic pistol, a revolver and a PDW between the three of us.”
“Yes,” Decker said with uncertainty. “There’s that too.”
The banter quietened as they trudged up the final hill, weaving between the rows of waist-high tea bushes. As they reached the top of the hill Bhandari gave the signal for them to squat down until they were hidden by the crop and then he crawled forward with the binoculars. After assessing the scene he handed the binoculars to Decker.
There was no doubt they were in the right place. The main compound was modest and surrounded by several outbuildings, but the giveaway was the men sitting in an open-top Jeep with Kalashnikovs slung casually over their shoulders or propped up on the rear seat. The American was willing to bet his plane that not too many commercial tea gardens required men armed with Soviet-era automatic rifles to keep the tea pickers in line.
“We in the right place, boss?” Riley said, and crawled forward to join the ex-Marine.
“Hell yeah,” Decker said, handing him the binoculars. “Four armed guys at two o’clock just for starters.”
“And plenty more where they come from, I’d say,” the Australian said.
They waited in silence for another half an hour, just watching the clouds whipping around the snow-capped peaks above them and enjoying the tea-scented air. The quiet moment was broken by Johar who crawled over to them with a businesslike smile on his face. “Bhandari says it’s dark enough to go in.”
They made their way down the slope in the darkness and reached the accommodation buildings used by the tea pickers. A few yards beyond it was the administration center where Madan’s estate management team ran the plantation during the day but tonight it was empty, dark and locked up.
Decker raised himself up on his toes and peered inside the accommodation block window. “All sleeping like babies,” he said.
‘Hardly surprising considering how hard they are worked during the day,” said Bhandari.