Connaught Place was burning just as it had done in the great watersheds of history before and Indians died as police bullets tried to bring their great civilization into line. But as the rioters were cleared from Connaught Place, the debris and the bodies left behind, they found another common target for their anger. Communities throughout India were not suffering from nuclear radiation, but from the aggression of misplaced blame. Eight hundred metres to the south-west down Parliament Street lay Parliament House and the offices of government.
Three policemen died as the mob broke through the cordon. Rioters died in the hail of fire which followed. But by now, the mob was thousands strong, many running with burning rags and petrol bombs to attack the seat of power.
General Headquarters, Rawalpindi, Pakistan
‘Sargodha and Multan are out of action, sir,’ said Masood. ‘We have lost communications. Kahuta is paralysed. We have lost twenty-three of our thirty nuclear-capable airfields. The pilots have taken the aircraft wherever they can to avoid them being destroyed. Most are in Kabul and Kandahar in Afghanistan, Saravan, Zahedan and Khash in Iran and Kashgar in China. Sialkot is vulnerable and we are facing defeat there. Lahore remains under artillery bombardment.’
‘The good news?’ said Hamid Khan.
‘We are winning decisively in the Kashmir Valley. The Indians have lost thousands of men and dozens of helicopters. They were ill-prepared.’
‘What of Rawalpindi?’
‘The Chaklala airbase is badly damaged and unusable at present. Apart from that, we do not appear to have been a target.’
‘Good,’ said Khan. ‘So far it is as I had planned.’
‘I’m sorry, sir?’ said Masood, looking confused.
‘We have lost nothing which we need if Pakistan is going to be a modernized state with no external enemies. Airfields can be rebuilt. But we are winning Kashmir and now we must talk to the world.’
‘Do you want President Tao in Beijing?’
‘No. We will have no communication with China. The signals will be picked up. Get me John Hastings in Washington.’
The Oval Office, The White House, Washington, DC
‘Hamid Khan is on the line and wants to speak directly to you.’
John Hastings sipped from his cup of Chinese herbal tea, which he hoped would keep him alert, yet calm, throughout the night. In any other circumstances he would have refused the call. Ennio Barber would have warned against the President of the United States speaking directly to a military dictator who had just started a nuclear war. But as Hastings was learning fast, a nuclear war was like no other. The rules had not yet been written.
‘Unless you bring your powers to bear, Mr President, Pakistan may soon cease to exist as a nation,’ said Hamid Khan.
‘You forfeited that right by your actions last night.’
‘You are correct. I have forfeited my right to rule Pakistan and I will never again be accepted by the Western democratic nations. But you cannot condemn the people of Pakistan for my actions. They are being blasted by the full might of the Indian air force. They are threatened with a far more powerful nuclear strike. Muslims are being slaughtered in India and riots have begun here in Pakistan. Only the United States has the influence to call an immediate halt to the Indian offensive. Once there is a ceasefire, you have my guarantee that I will step down from office.’
‘And who will take over?’
‘An interim leader who has full international support.’
Hastings put Hamid Khan on hold and called Tom Bloodworth along to the office.
‘So far all the strikes are conventional,’ said Bloodworth. ‘Specifically against legitimate military targets. Far more than ours were in Serbia. If anything, India’s response has been remarkably measured.’
‘Will Dixit go nuclear?’
‘I sense not. Not if Pakistan doesn’t strike again.’
‘General Khan, are you still there?’ said Hastings.
‘Yes, Mr President.’
‘I want a statement from you right now on Pakistan radio and television that you will not use another nuclear weapon in this conflict. It must be short, unequivocal and in both English and the languages of Pakistan. When we hear that and have it translated, I will call on India for a complete ceasefire.’
‘But people are being killed—’
‘Then get a move on and make the statement.’
Foreign and Commonwealth Office, London
John Stopping, Chairman of the Joint Intelligence Committee, was woken by the telephone ringing on his secure line. Only a handful of people in London knew the number, together with a small circle of colleagues in the international circles in which he mixed. Stopping’s career in the diplomatic and intelligence services had forged trust and friendships lasting many years. Often he suddenly found them adversaries amid unpredictable events of foreign policy.
Stopping automatically checked his watch and saw he had been dozing on the office couch for less than twenty minutes. He was surprised but delighted to hear the voice of Chandra Reddy on the other end.
‘John, I think we need to look ahead and perhaps we could do each other a favour.’
‘Only the greatest optimist would try to look beyond nuclear conflict,’ said Stopping. ‘Why is Hari Dixit not taking any calls?’
‘He is trying to stop a nuclear war, John. He can’t do that if he’s yacking on the bloody telephone to every head of government who wants to get involved. Don’t tell me that Margaret Thatcher chatted to Indira Gandhi during the Falklands conflict.’
‘Given that you’ve just been nuked, Reddy, you sound in remarkably good form.’
‘I need Britain’s help. No one else can do it.’
‘Go on.’
‘Can we agree that Pakistan would never have done this without China’s backing?’
‘Let’s say we do.’
‘And that China’s incursion into India was timed to coincide with the flare-up in Kashmir?’
‘Agreed.’
‘Then, until a shot is fired across China’s bows, the war in Asia cannot be stopped.’
‘This is a diplomatic, not a military issue.’
‘No, John. It is one for men like us.’
Stopping kept quiet, allowing Reddy to continue. ‘The Chinese have been building up the port facilities at the Burmese naval base in Hanggyi. In the past two months they have sent two warships there, the Kaifang, a 3,600 tonne destroyer, and the Anqing, a 2,500 tonne frigate. Both ships are expendable. They know we could blow both of them out of the water. They also have three or four Kilo-class diesel-electric submarines in the Andaman Sea. We spotted them going through the Malacca Straits, but now have no idea where they are. In a conflict like this, the presence of those ships is a clear incursion into our theatre of influence.’
‘But not illegal,’ said Stopping.
‘Kosovo changed the frontiers of international legality.’
‘I still don’t see how we can help.’
‘You have HMS Ocean coming down from Chittagong towards Hanggyi Island right now. On board is a unit from the Special Boat Squadron together with a VSV; length 53 feet, three crew plus room for eleven commandos, capable of 60 knots with two 750 b.h.p. diesel engines and stealth technology which enables it to avoid radar and infrared heat sensors and a range of 700 nautical miles. If they went in to destroy the Chinese ships and whatever else they find in Hanggyi, China would think twice about continuing to stir things up on the subcontinent.’