Ominous footsteps amid deafening gunfire

It was another week wrapped up for Ali, not his real name, as he prepared to go home to his family. It was a little after 7pm on Friday. The big boss was on leave and the officer in-charge was at an event and unlikely to return for the day. Most people had left or were about to leave with office hours already over.

The corridors outside his office were quiet until the calm was destroyed by a volley of crackling sounds. Ali’s first thought was of celebratory gunfire at some wedding as he looked out the window on the fourth floor of the Karachi Police Office, which serves as the headquarters of the city police chief.

The building is inside a compound surrounded by a 20-foothigh wall topped up with coiled barbed wires. It is right next to a police station with offices of law enforcement and security agencies all around. One can say that it is one of the more secure locations in Karachi.

And it is located just off Sharea Faisal, the city’s busiest road. What Ali saw from his window was both brazen and terrifying. Men with submachine guns had attacked the office. He saw them lobbing grenades inside the compound and entering shortly after. Following his instinct, he called the Sindh police chief. It followed calls to officers nearby and those leading special units and elite squads.

Having been on the force for over 30 years, Ali has had quite a few dangerous assignments, including the Karachi operations of the 1990s. Back in the day, he attended many trainings, including by global agencies, to deal with such situations. That training kicked in right away as he realised that the terrorists were inside the building.

He found 16 people on the floor and shepherded them to a corner room. Only one of them had a weapon and took position outside the door. The lights were switched off and everyone was told not to use their cell phone’s light. Ali wanted to call his family, and two daughters, but knew better than to worry them. The gunfire was inching closer and there was no information - even on the WhatsApp group - on the number of attackers or the floor they were on.

What the discerning among them knew that the attackers were climbing stairs. Yasir, the cop who bravely stood guard at the door, was able to fire at the terrorists as soon as they came within his sight on the fourth floor. The terrorists thought they were facing resistance and opened fire. In between lulls to reload, Ali heard them conversing in Pashto and their ominous steps approaching.

It was at this juncture that he got a call from home. Not knowing what would happen next, he answered. The family had seen the news and were worried. During this, there was another round of heavy firing. Some investigators believe it was around this time that one of the attackers was shot dead - either by a sniper or a retaliatory police fire. It was followed by a suicide blast that shattered the glasses in the room they had taken refuge in.

But the walls and the roof held on. There was another phone call and another round of gunfire as Ali tried to hold on to this nerve. People started reciting the kalima, and there were more voices outside. No one dared to move. A few moments later, there were more voices and Ali recognised that of Muqaddas Haider, a highranking police officer.

With this, he knew that the attackers were either dead or had been driven out. He communicated the news to those in the room and there was collective relief. As soon as they stepped out of the room, loud cheers went up. They were safe but there was destruction all around.

The explosion had shattered parts of the room while the entire building was pockmarked with bullet holes. A policeman stationed at the entrance, a sanitary worker and the lift operator were among those who lost their lives. At least two others died during the more than three-hour battle with terrorists on February 17. It was because of their sacrifices that I was able to go home to my family, said Ali as he tried to conceal reminders of last week’s attack on his office.