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"Ours is a democratic, independent nation! We are not going to succumb to any pressure! We will punish these terrorists in the most severe terms. We refuse to consider any of their demands!" The Home Minister was coming to the end of his tirade. He was referring to the arrest of six terrorists in Punjab a week ago. He continued after a pause, "We are now certain that there is a foreign hand behind these activities. We will make them talk." There were a few more questions and answers after which the press conference was closed. The Minister left for home. Close on his heels was Inspector Latif, chief of the Home Ministers' elite commando Special Protection Force. It was Latif's job to ensure that the Home Minister and his family stayed alive.
The press conference behind him, Latif's mind flew forward to bigger worries ahead. That afternoon the Minster's family was leaving for a weekend trip to the remote hill-station of Dachigam. And it was of course Latif's job to provide foolproof security there. He pushed back the thoughts of the six terrorists that the Home Minister was talking about in his conference, and started to concentrate on the work in hand, running over and over in his mind the preparations that had been made, assignation of duties etc….
A few hours later, the family left for Dachigam along with Latif, by 'copter.
The Government guesthouse in Dachigam had been made into an impregnable fortress. At least 40 SPF Commandos were already there and over the last few days, in fact before the venue of the families outing had been made remotely public, they had scoured the area for any signs of terrorist infiltration, or any hidden explosive devices. Now the guesthouse was totally cordoned off, and only the kitchen and karamchari staff, all securely vetted, were allowed inside. Remote sensors had been installed on all the boundary walls and CCTV monitoring was also in place, both onsite and offsite through remote telemetry to RAW headquarters in Delhi. There, specialised software constantly checked the relayed images for rapid and unnatural changes to silhouettes or shadows, comparing each change with its vast database of threat identities.
Latif scrutinized the arrangements and saw that all had been taken care of. He made several security checks, and satisfied himself that things were as they should be. The family of the Home Minister was comfortably ensconced in the master suite. Now the guards would take over. It was Latif's turn to take a rest now - he had had a tiring day, and there was still some time before dinner…
Around ten o'clock at night, it was 'change of guard' time for the Commandos. They were operating on an 8-8-8 watch schedule at the moment, and the next change would come at 6 AM the next morning. Inside, the family had settled down for the night, dinner had been taken and they were preparing for bed. Latif came out to make a final check before he, himself, retired. The tall, wiry commando outside the door to the bungalow stood ramrod straight, hooded eyes behind the combat mask surveying the scene, sweeping from one side of the extensive garden and courtyard to the other, Latif paused by his side
"OK?" he asked conversationally.
"Yes" said the man. His eyes never left the scene in front of him.
In that moment it happened. Latif could not quite recall the sequence of events later on, but suddenly there was a beeped warning on both the guard's and Latif's belt communicator - the real-time RAW software had detected something amiss! Latif turned to the guard, starting to crouch, and in that second, the guard's body was lifted as if by a giant hand and flung back into the bushes that lined the wall on either side of the door. There was the brrrrrrrp brrrrrrp of an AK 47, and Latif felt a sharp blow to the side of his chest, as he hit the ground rolling, rolling for the cover of the ornamental fountain a few feet away from the entrance, simultaneously unholstering his machine pistol in one flowing action. He reached the bulk of the fountain, and looked around it - his Kevlar vest would prevent any lasting damage from the bullets that had grazed his side.
He pressed the Mayday button on his belt communicator that would tell the rest of the world that they were under attack.
The scene that met his eyes was not a good one. The grass was littered with the bodies of dead Commandos - there must have been at least 6. The rich and sickly aroma of blood wafted through the cool night air. He could see the body of only one attacker - it was obvious that the man wore some kind of ceremonial hairstyle - long, flowing hair secured by a thick, blue ribbon - it must be the Punjab terrorists!
What was worse was that the door to the house was now closed - the terrorists may have been able to gain access to it! Even as he thought this, there was a percussive brrp…brrrrrpp! brrrrrp! From inside, and the body of another commando came crashing out through a ground-floor window. A woman inside the guesthouse was now screaming.
Damn! That was the only commando inside the house. The terrorists had got their hostages!
Now the other commandos had converged on the house. The automatic 'Detect and Destroy' system would now be watching the perimeter of the holiday resort, and would rapid-fire indiscriminately at any suspect shadow. In the distance Latif could hear the deafening klaxons sounding off, warning any approaching people to stay away from the area….
Latif looked at his men "fan out around the house - let no one get out - alive… " he quietly breathed the last word, as the grim seriousness of the situation hit him.
"Krrr………rr……..r" the communicator on Latif's belt came alive. "Maandak Chaand!!" the rallying cry of the terrorist outfit boomed out from the speakers. "Listen carefully! This is Tardeepan Singh speaking!" a small murmur went through the Commando force - they knew of him - he was one of the bravest and most ruthless of all the terrorists operating in the Punjab.
Singh continued, "We are in complete charge of the situation here. Anyone doing anything other than what I tell them will suffer. Everyone in the minister's family has been wired to explode! The detonator is in my hand. Any attempt to break down the door, and I will set off the remote and all will die! Is that clear? Let Latif say that he has understood!"
The death warning boomed out of the communicator. Latif hesitated just a second before he pressed the answer button. "Yes, I understand." He said in a voice that sounded totally unlike his own.
Again the voice boomed out of the little communicator "OK! Here are the demands of the Independence Committee of Firdaunpur…"
"One… the release of all our fellow-jehadis, currently undergoing torture in RAW HQ Delhi…."
"Two… the sum of ten million dollars, to be deposited offshore in a Bank of our choice…"
"Three… an escape, fully armed and equipped Apache helicopter and escort across the border, by 2 p.m. tomorrow afternoon… All these to be acceded to by the Government of India. Or else, face the consequences - we detonate the explosives and all within this building die!" The voice of Tardeepan Singh cut off and a rather wretched silence once more prevailed.
Latif had no illusions whatsoever that the terrorists meant exactly what they said.
Bad news spreads like wildfire. Immediately Latif pressed the panic button on his communicator as he rolled agonisingly across the ground to get away from the terrorists bullets, two of the 10 military satellites positioned above India had swung their sensors to cover the scene, scanning in infrared at centimetre-resolution levels. Fortunately the night sky was clear, and the computers at RAW very soon had their first enhanced pictures of the scene at Dachigam. The Home Minister, currently in Bangalore, had also been patched through on the circuit, and was in constant touch. The PM was online from Delhi and the other 22 members of the Cabinet had also been patched through from within India or abroad, where they were enjoying expensive foreign holidays on taxpayer's money.
The PM addressed them over the circuit. Latif was also patched in and he looked at the quiet, confident face of the PM on the small video screen set into the communicator. The PM spoke "Our hearts go out to our fellow Cabinet brother, whose family is in these villains hands." A low murmur came from the patched-in dignitaries, as they expressed their support for the unlucky Minister.
Then a surprise, as a new voice came over the air "PM, colleagues…" it was the Home Minister himself! His voice was slightly shaky, but there was a steely determination that ran as a thick current throughout his words. He continued "We cannot allow ourselves to be held hostage by these criminals. I personally advise against any accession to their demands."
Suddenly everyone was talking together "PM-ji, we must save their lives…… women and children!….. what if they were our families?!….. terrible thought! We must give in………"
Then the PM's voice cut through - "I agree with the Home Minister. We will stand firm, If we agree to this then in the future it will encourage even more such terrible episodes; if we stand firm, there will be no reason for this to happen again… However, we will negotiate with the killers…. Buy time…. The situation may change if they realise we are not going to agree to their demands. I am personally monitoring the situation, all of you are advised to be in constant touch on your communicators. Thank you."
It was within the next 20 minutes that the first team of negotiators arrived at the bungalow. There had been a great deal of noise from an adjacent field, and Tardeepan Singh had angrily asked what was happening. Latif told him that the negotiators were arriving by VTOL MilJets.
A few minutes later the Negotiation and Engagement Team of RAW had arrived. The leader of the team was Colonel Malik. As his men set up their Comms and computer equipment, Malik addressed Singh.
"OK Tardeepan, this is Colonel Malik here. I will negotiate with you regarding your demands. The PM is in constant touch with me, we are considering your demands."
The communicators crackled "OK Colonel Malik. You got here fast. Our demands are as stated and no change will be considered. You have till 2 p.m. tomorrow. Maandak Chaand!!" The Communicator clicked into a deafening silence.
Colonel Malik looked over at Latif. They had set up their outpost just 15 metres from the bungalow. On the lawns. The outpost was protected from fire from the house by a mobile RCC wall that had been wheeled into place between the bungalow and the officers. A military tarpaulin hung from above the wall, creating a small Ops room. Comms equipment, computers and listening devices were being brought in all the time.
"I was afraid of this - these people are really hard-core and they will stop at nothing. He will not negotiate - this is a take-it-or-leave-it offer. Also, we don’t know how many terrorists there are inside the house. We need to find out.
"Ramesh", he looked at a nearby officer wearing headphones, who was pointing a long antenna out through one of the higher up holes in the portable wall. "Ramesh, have you got anything?"
Colonel, I am picking up some conversation in Marathi - children's voices, very low……… and there! There - a snatch of Punjabi. Man's voice - Tardeepan Singh…….." He continued to listen. "Hang on - I am getting some other voices too - 1….2… others. There are 3 of them in the house!"
"Damn" said the Colonel, his face serious. Well, that may rule out storming the bungalow. If even one of them got away then that would be that…"
The night was long but for Latif it was becoming a nightmare. As the darkness melted away and daylight illuminated the guesthouse, the situation was no better than it had been twelve hours before. Colonel Malik and his team had tried their best, but to no avail. Both sides were unrelenting. The fanatical Tardeepan Singh had obviously decided that there was only black and white in this situation - either the government acceded to his demands, or the explosives were going to be triggered.
1 p.m. came and the small Ops 'room' in front of the bungalow was a hectic buzz of activity. It was obvious that no solution was forthcoming and they had to prepare for the worst. The PM had held several virtual conferences, and though the mood was dismal, the decision was unanimous every time. A sovereign nation could not be held to ransom. Terrorism must not be allowed to pay. The Home Minister no longer attended these sessions - he was alone with his own private grief. Meantime, plans were made for the unthinkable - an armed assault on the guesthouse.
Tardeepan Singh knew all the tricks of the trade. He had been a brilliant law student in the USA before he had joined the Independence Committee of Firdaunpur, and he brought every ounce of cunning intellect and professional training to bear on the matter in hand. He had them by the short and curlies and he knew it. He also knew that they were trying - had been trying for hours - to wear him and his people down. Delaying tactics. He could see it all - they were not going to give in.
He picked up the walkie-talkie for the nth time, pressed the button and spoke into the mouthpiece "You bastards, what do you think? You think you can fool me? Bringing in reinforcements all the time, preparing to storm this place?! If you don’t show progress in one hour - that is by the original deadline of 2 p.m. - one of the Minister's family will be dead. You have been warned!" The last few words were almost a snarl, they sent a chill down Latif's spine. He and Malik looked at each other. The other people in the Ops room grew silent. They all knew that time for non-radical options was swiftly running out.
A few minutes before, the PM had called, and strongly suggested that the team call the terrorists bluff and test their nerve by storming the guesthouse. Latif was very angry. No heroics were possible in this situation, and negotiators were drawing a blank too. Even a seasoned operative like Latif was absolutely powerless. He cursed himself - why had he built a fortress - the guesthouse - and then let the enemy snatch it away from him? He had personally supervised all the security, knew just where all the metal-reinforced wall shielding had been placed. Why, only an ant could get through that sort of thing…. Wait….. if not an ant, then maybe a cockroach…?
He looked at Colonel Malik, and there was new hope in his eyes. "Colonel, he said, would you be willing to take a big chance? I believe it's worth the risk…"
"I guess we don’t have much choice."
The two men conferred for a minute or so and the decision was made.
"I need a 'copter to fly a senior scientist here from Bangalore, NOW. Comms - get me Dr Sethna from the Indian institute of Science on the phone…."
He didn’t have long to wait.
"Dr Sethna speaking. Is that you Latif?"
"Hello, Dr. We have a serious situation here, we need your help right now. Bring your agents with you Are you familiar with the status here?"
"Yes, I have been watching the developing situation on the TV. I think I know what you need… actually…" there was a break in the phone conversation as there was commotion from the professor's side.
"…your helicopter has arrived, I am ready to go…"
Barely twenty five minutes later, the 'copter set down on the lawn inside the guesthouse compound. Tardeepan Singh saw it and said to himself 'Hummm… are they agreeing to our demands or is this some final and desperate trick?'
Singh's voice came over the Communicator "Latif - what is happening - why the 'copter?!"
"We are in the process of agreeing to your demands. The 'copter has arrived. We just need a sign off from the Cabinet - they are in session at the moment. We will know the outcome after their meeting has completed…" Colonel Malik, Chief Negotiator, was now desperately buying time.
"OK - you know you have only 35 minutes to accede to our demands."
Meantime, Sethna had reached the Ops room. He could feel the seriousness of the situation from the tension in the air. As Latif started to explain, Sethna opened up his attaché case and spread the kit out on one of the tables. Then he started assembling them - clicking modular bits together with considerable speed. In barely a minute or so, there was a laptop, a couple of other instruments, and a small box resembling a jewel case. He plugged a couple of wires here and there, switched on the instruments, and, finally, opened the jewel box.
"See, this is the invention I was talking about to you, This will be a good demonstration opportunity."
Sethna pulled out its folded legs and then its moustache. Finally he uncovered its eyes. He placed it on the ground and went to the laptop. A few deft strokes here and there, and the 2 inch long 'Cockroach' started to move!
"This is my master stroke - the RoboRoach!"
Another keystroke and the RoboRoach had flipped its wing-covers up, in much the same way as real cockroaches do, exposing two small rotors, that quickly and very silently lifted the roboagent off the ground, to hover in the air at eye level.
"The two lobes of moustache you see are the antennae. The eyes are of course optical sensors, though we haven't replicated the compound eye structure of the native insect as interpretation of the images can be complex and time consuming in terms of computing power.
The main 'brains' of the agent are in its stomach, where three microprocessors interpret all sensory input from the surroundings, analyse this data in terms of the pre-programmed task in hand, communicate with the laptop computer, and resolve conflicts by vote. This happens on the US Space Shuttle as well, providing significant autonomy of action, with no humans in the loop.
All images are transmitted back to the laptop so we can 'see' what the agent sees…."
Latif said "What is the miniature tube attached to its belly?"
The Roach was now hovering at neck level, stable and perfectly still and silent in the air, despite the slight breeze. There was an air of deadly purpose about it that was quite unnerving.
When Sethna answered, Latif and the Colonel's eyes widened. Perhaps there was a chance after all.
"What are the other two roaches for?"
"Oh yes, I guessed you'd want all three to act in concert. I think we can use them in a triangulation exercise within the guesthouse. I've already done the basic program definition."
Latif and the colonel looked at one another. The time was 15 minutes to 2 p.m. They had no time. Latif shrugged his shoulders.
"OK, Doc, let's go for it!"
Sethna pressed another key on the laptop and RoboRoach-1 whizzed past Latif's ear, on its way to the guesthouse door. Sethna had now sat down at the table, had put on the headphones, and was intently moving the mouse around and tapping keys on the keyboard. There were now moving images on the screen. They were seeing what the Roach was seeing. It was flying quite fast, as in a second it had reached the doorstep. In the strange 'fish eye' view of the optical lenses, the door towered up above it like some gigantic monolith. It was approaching the door now, and there was a faint high-pitched sound coming from the laptop, just at the border of hearing.
"It's moved to ultrasound now, and is judging distances and heights for access penetration."
….."Ah! It's found something." The Roach appeared to be moving towards a small crevice at the bottom of the door.
Transfixed, Latif and the colonel approached the laptop. What was happening was beyond their imagination!
Now the Roach had passed under the door and was inside. It could see the inside of the room. Sethna pressed a key and the Roach slowly moved from one side to the other. It had scanned the room, and the images were relayed to the laptop. It was like a movie.
On the right, sitting in an easy chair, was Tardeepan Singh. The little that could be seen of him was enough. He had his long hair roughly swept back by a blue ribbon, and was wearing blue jeans and a coarse khadi shirt that had definitely seen better days. There was a general air of purpose, determination and ruthlessness about him.
By his right hand, within easy reach on the table next to him, was what looked like an explosive detonator.
On the left side of the room in the dining area, were seated the hostages. They were tied to the dining room chairs, and underneath the table were the unmistakable bulges of Semtex explosive. There was an awful lot of it and if detonated, the surrounding are would be destroyed as well, which in any case, was the suicidal intention of Tardeepan Singh's gang.
Against the back wall of the room, stood two of Singh's henchmen. They held Kalashnikov's at the ready. They looked very alert, very calm, and very deadly.
"Sethna was speaking "I think these are the only people in the house. There are three of the bastards."
"That number agrees with our own estimates", said the Colonel "OK, let's get the other Roaches airborne."
In 20 seconds, the other two Roaches had unfurled their wing rotors, and were airborne. Sethna was tracking them on the laptop. Unlike the first one, these did not enter the house, instead flying straight up in the air.
"OK, he said - all three of them are now 'talking' to each other and aware of each other's location. They are assuming combat positions."
He pressed a switch on the laptop and the plan of the guesthouse appeared. It was a single storey building, built in the typical fashion of hill-station bungalows - 90% wood, with a tiled roof over a wooden frame. There was metal shielding in the walls, and the windows, though of toughened, bulletproof glass, were clear and uncurtained.
"We are almost in position now for……" said Sethna.
The Communicator crackled.
"You bastards! This is the final warning. I don’t care what your excuse is this time - Cabinet Meeting ended or not, I will execute one of the hostages in 10 minutes, at 2 p.m.. You had enough time! Maadak Chaand!!"
On the laptop screen, the RoboRoach watched as Singh got up from the easy chair, walked over to the dining table and smashed the walkie-talkie into the face of the youngest daughter of the Minister.
The girl screamed in surprise and acute pain, and the sound filled the small Ops room for a second.
"You think I am joking?!" rasped Singh. The Communicator clicked to off.
The tension was so thick that one could have cut it with a knife. Sethna, grim faced, looked at the other two men, saw the resolve in their eyes, pressed a key on the laptop and made a few deft motions with the mouse. Suddenly the terrorists in the image of the room on the screen were illuminated in a halo of pulsating red.
"Target lock achieved "Sethna breathed. He tapped another key "Autonomy bestowed."
Inside the room, the Roach was suddenly galvanised into action. It headed towards Tardeepan Singh, crawling rapidly along the floor of the guesthouse as fast as it's mechanised legs could carry it.
But Singh, leaving the vicinity of the dining table, was now walking right towards it!
"Damn!" said Sethna, and crashed his fist onto the table in frustration. He reached for the keyboard and depressed a single key. The Roach had stopped. The picture on the screen was stationary, but Singh was still moving towards the agent.
"What's the matter - Allah! Nothing can go wrong now!" Pleaded Latif.
He looked again at the screen and was immobilised for a second. The screen was flashing a proximity warning now - in red. The moving shoe of Singh was scant inches from the Roach. Would Singh see it? Would he step on it?!
Latif hissed - "Make it jump! Make it stick to the shoe!" The command was like the crack of a whip in the small Ops room. It galvanised Sethna into action.
A few deft movements of the mouse and the agent was now obviously clinging precariously to the laces of the shoe. Every step, the denim trousers would come down on top of the Roach and block out the forward view for an instant, as if a curtain was falling across the world. And then lifting…. Then Singh stopped, and the Roach swiftly crawled out from under the trouser hem. There was no time to lose! Singh might see the creature at any second. He was several metres away from the detonator now, looking out through the window at the helicopter parked on the lawn barely 40 metres away. This was an ideal time to trigger the final phase of the stealth attack!
Sethna, brow knit in concentration, pressed another set of keys on the laptop….
"All Roaches in position, " he said - "this is it!! Autonomy restored!"
In the guesthouse, Roach 1 had rotated its wing covers and the rotors were operating to lift it off Singh's shoe. But as it rose, one of the laces got entangled in its legs and must have been pulled for a second, because Singh looked down…. And saw the agent…. Confusion flew across his face as he struggled to understand why a cockroach should be so fearless, and then he must have seen the rotors because his mouth opened in a silent shout, and he swatted at the agent. But he was too slow. The Roach had ascended very swiftly, was now at head height and it was angling its body and pivoting in midair to aim the metallic barrel under its body! There was a sudden jolt - the jerk of reaction on the screen as the pellet was ejected with projectile force, and the Roach was looking into Singh's mouth, opened in a shout.
Sethna and the others heard a 'phut!' sound, and watched as the glass pellet impacted against Singh's throat. The deed had been done! The cyanide capsule had exploded in exactly the right place!
Singh collapsed to the floor as if in slow motion. But now the other two of Singh's henchmen, aware that they were under attack from God only knows where, were bringing their weapons to bear on the hostages cowering in the dining area!
Triangulation! The processors in Roaches 1, 2 and 3 knew exactly where they were in relation to each other and the guesthouse. The picture on the laptop screen changed again in subtle fashion - the two other terrorists, one beginning to make his way to the detonator placed on the table, were again outlined in red. Ideal targets!
Inside the guesthouse, suddenly there was a sizzling sound, and at two points in the ceiling the paint vaporised in a second, and a blue-white laser came flashing through. Each beam perfectly targeted one terrorist! The smell of burning flesh and the limp, toppling bodies of the terrorists testified to the ruthless precision and success of the move. Roaches 2 and 3 had done their work! Pivoting above the guesthouse, small, motionless, RoboInsects almost invisible to the naked eye, they had directed their hair-fine lasers through the tiled roof of the guesthouse and into the heads of the target terrorists with devastating results!
The entire final phase of the attack had taken just 20 seconds! The hostages were free!
In the Ops room there was pandemonium. Sethna leapt up from the chair he had been sitting in, and embraced Latif, the Colonel and the others in the room. Suddenly there were smiles all round. Latif immediately notified the Cabinet of the miracle that had been wrought.
After he had been briefed of what had happened, the Prime Minster asked whether he could speak to the professor who had been responsible for this amazing rescue.
Latif looked around and saw that Sethna was outside on the lawn. He had one Roach sitting on each shoulder and the third on his head. There was a wide smile on his face, and he was giving an interview to the press, which had just been let into the compound to inspect the incredible victory. He was enjoying his minute in the limelight.
Latif turned back to the Communicator screen and said to the PM, "Sir, I guess you can talk to him later - he is busy with his….. err… his pets!"
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