Free PRIMAL Mirza (A PRIMAL Series Novella) by Jack Silkstone

gather
more intel and rehearse what we can.”
    “When
are you going to conduct a reconnaissance?”
    Al-Jahiz’s
pulse quickened with the thought of seeing his objective. “I’ll go after the
midday prayer.”
    A
knock at the door stopped all conversation. With them finalizing their
planning, Al-Jahiz had insisted it be kept locked. He did not trust the
criminals and the suicide team wouldn’t be briefed until the mission was green
lit.
    “Who
is it?” asked Karim.
    “It’s
me, Neeraj.”
    “What
do you want?”
    “We
have a problem.”
    Al-Jahiz
nodded.
    Karim
cracked the door slightly. “What’s going on?”
    “One
of my men overheard a street urchin telling a cop about a new bunch of Pakis in
town.”
    Al-Jahiz
stuck his head through the opening. “What did he look like? Did he have a
bruise on his face?”
    “I’m
not sure. But his name is Atal. A street rat who runs around begging and
stealing.”
    “I
remember him. He led us to the street corner. Is he going to be trouble?”
    Neeraj
shrugged. “The police won’t listen to him.”
    “We
can’t have loose ends. Silence him.”
    “I
know where he’ll be in the morning. He hangs around the tuk-tuks . It will be my
pleasure to deal with him.” Neeraj chuckled. “My men will hack out the little
monkey’s eyeballs.”
    The
criminal’s laugh unnerved Al-Jahiz. As he shut the door, he glanced at his
friend. “Make sure you pay him. I don’t want to owe that snake anything.”
    As
he sat, the phone in his pocket started ringing. He lifted it to his ear and
listened. A moment later, he tucked the phone away. “We have our orders. The
mission will go ahead tomorrow. The game starts in the afternoon and we will
hit them after the first couple of hours.”
    “When
the most people will be there?”
    Al-Jahiz
nodded. “I’ll check on the target in the morning.”
    A
smile spread across Karim’s pudgy features. “Glory be to Allah.”
    “Glory
be to Allah.”

 
    CHAPTER
12

 
    It took Mirza and
Himesh more than fifteen hours to get from the crash site to the slums of New
Delhi. They’d arrived late at night and were lucky to find a hostel open. Once
checked in, Mirza was shocked at their room’s condition. Cheap didn’t begin to
describe the two metal-framed beds pushed against the moldy walls and the rust
stained sink. The toilet was down the hall. Too exhausted to care, they ate a
late meal and collapsed on their cots.
    In the morning, when the surveillance team
leader knocked on the door, Mirza jerked awake. “I’ll get it,” he mumbled,
rolling out of bed. He staggered to the door, opened it, and motioned a whippet
of a man with non-descript features into the room.
    “Well?” Himesh asked.
    “We tailed the Pakis from the border and lost
them just on the outskirts of the Chandni Chowk. Too many vans and not enough
eyes. I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t dwell on it. This was a slap together
job. That you weren’t spotted and didn’t lose them earlier is a testament to
your team’s skill.”
    “Appreciated. We did get a glimpse of the
leader. He’s about five foot five with crazy looking eyes. They kind of bulge
out of his head like a bug’s. His beard’s neatly trimmed and comes down to
about mid neck.”
    “And the others?”
    “Four of them. All with trimmed beards and dressed
like Paki workers.” He passed Himesh a large envelope. “Here are the
photocopies of the IDs they used at the border. I’ve also put some of our
surveillance photos in there.”
    “What about NSG?” Mirza asked.
    “I handed the job over to them. They got a copy
of the photos but didn’t seem too interested.”
    Frowning, Himesh shook his head. “That’s
strange.”
    “Not sure what’s going on over there. My team’s
been reallocated, we’re to report to HQ.” He dropped a black bag on the bed.
“Here’s the gear you requested. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
    “All good, my friend. Thanks again.” Himesh
shook his hand and opened