“Never give up hope, or all is lost.”
“The tall man with his back to us…so familiar…that voice…” Phil frowned.
“Wish he’d remove that cloth covering his head and most of his face, and those sunshades, but he doesn’t want to be recognized…,” observed Ismail, trying to get a better look at the man in question.
“The boy sitting next to Afzal Rehman is his son, Kamal,” Shahzad announced with a frown. “He’s with the Jamali group, and he’s the root of all the troubles with the youngsters. I’ve always thought he was no good.”
Ismail knew of the young man because Aisha and Adnan had mentioned their dislike of him. Was Kamal a part of the plot?
Afzal Rehman had a neat goatee, and Ismail could sense the bully in him. It was not the first time that Ismail had seen his kind, and though he had always stayed out of their way, he knew how influential and savvy they could be. Ismail asked Shahzad about the others in the group.
“One of them is Mullah Jamali. Who the hell is the tall guy with the cover on his face? I don’t recognize the other two; they have slight accents. These three men are not from around here,” Shahzad reckoned.
“Wonder who they are.” Shahzad pondered. “It’s hard to remain unknown; everyone knows everybody’s business here. Someone has to know about the newcomers!”
Ismail sat cross-legged on the ground against the tree they were sheltering under, while Phil and Shahzad sat on his either side. The murmuring in the room was getting quieter, and Jamali was the one who initiated the talks. Ismail understood a little bit of what was being said and was glad for the translation by Shahzad to Phil.
“He’s saying they’ve gathered to confirm plans for the fair.” Shahzad’s eyes narrowed as he heard more of the conversation over the phone.
“This business has to end, and Naseer Hussain needs a good lesson,” the tall unidentified man insisted with his hand over his mouth to stifle his voice. “The boy has to die, and there’s one way to do that while creating an incident that his generations won’t forget!”
“That voice… where have I heard it before? Who’s this guy?” Phil wondered.
“Since they’re watching so closely, hopefully, we can take down Naseer Hussain himself, along with the foreigners and other important locals and Lashkar; any other spy who insists on meddling in business that does not concern them!” The man incognito went on to explain his plans for a suicide mission in the crowded fair; his hand still held a part of his keffiyeh over his mouth to stifle his voice.
For a few moments, Shahzad did not speak and just listened intently. He frowned, and after he took the phone from Ismail, he zoomed on the front of the man who spoke. It was then that Shahzad noticed the thick gold ring on the stranger’s finger. The big black central stone caught his attention as he realized who the man might be.
“They’re planning a suicide attack at the fair,” Shahzad finally revealed, still trying to digest what he heard. What he had seen was as shocking. “No, no! Many people could have a ring like that. Was it his imagination?”
Phil looked at the frown on Shahzad’s face. The young man had gone so pale Phil thought he was about to faint; understandable since it was his little brother’s death that they were discussing.
“They’re using Ahmad. They know the security is going to be tight and know of our alliance with the CIA and the army. But still they sound so confident; it bothers me,” said Ismail.
Ismail and Phil stared at the screen while Shahzad, unable to hold still, paced up and down but stayed close by to hear what was going on. It looked like tasks were being assigned, and the meeting was ending.
Suddenly, the door opened, and Afzal and Kamal came out of the house while Shahzad was in plain view. Ismail saw him drop to the ground and cursed himself for not having had the foresight to expect this. He peeped out from the side of the tree; sure enough, the two guys were looking in their direction and were walking towards the gate of the farm to check things out. Had Afzal recognized Shahzad?
They needed to move too. Ismail saw that the house was too far for them to reach without being seen. He looked around and saw the shed was closest to where they were. He considered the distance and saw Shahzad was already moving towards it. The grass around was tall enough to hide them. He shut the phone off and took one last look at the drone and started crawling too, as did Phil. They could retrieve the drone later.
He glanced back and saw Afzal pointing at them as they walked towards the fence separating the two fields. The three boys reached the shed and jumped inside. They found a sheltered corner and sat together, trying to catch their breath. Phil had never crawled so fast in his life, and he sat rubbing his knee, his pants covered in wet mud from the freshly watered field. He peeped out and saw Afzal and Kamal heading straight for the shed. Afzal must have noticed their movement.
If confronted, Ismail wondered what reason they could give. He glanced at Shahzad, who was already thinking of running towards the house from the looks of it.
“As-Salaam-Alaikum, Fiaz Sahib!” he heard Afzal’s voice before he saw him.
“Wa-Alaikum-Salaam, Afzal Bhai, Kamal Baita,” Fiaz-ul-Muhabat appeared at the door of the shed and stood like a giant wall between the hidden boys and the two he confronted. “This is a surprise! What are you doing here?”
“We were passing by my friend Tariq Bhai’s house and thought we’d stop for a cup of tea,” Afzal mumbled a lame excuse about driving by to get some fresh vegetables for his household.
“If you had phoned me, I would’ve had them delivered to you!” Fiaz laughed, and the men understood each other.
Afzal and Kamal walked back hurriedly, not wanting to tangle with Fiaz. They made excuses about having to be elsewhere and got into their vehicle and zoomed off.
Ismail thanked Allah for saving them from the close call and saw Shahzad also breathing easy now. Phil sat behind the bales of hay, and he could not help but giggle at their situation. Ismail gave him a couple of punches on the arm before a smile appeared on his face, too.
Shahzad was impatient to get home, but Fiaz insisted the visitors stay for lunch, which the ladies were already laying out on a table outside. His agitation showed, and he wanted to get home as soon as possible to share his news with his father.
“You must relax, Shahzad Baita!” Fiaz laughed and put his massive arm around the young man’s shoulder. “You know I’ve seen this chap grow from a boy to a man; he has always been in a great hurry!”
Fiaz-ul-Muhabat tried to make light of the situation while he worried inside. After all the hard work, evil men were still conspiring to destroy any hope for the future.
“I cannot understand the psyche of these people,” Fiaz remarked. “How could anyone not want peace and prosperity for themselves and their coming generations? It’s a sad day for me too, Shahzad; when someone breaks your trust, it’s like a death in the family.”
“Who to trust?” Shahzad shrugged. “Malik Rahman’s brother killed him; now Afzal Rehman with his son Kamal and our trusted farm resident Tariq Khan; they conspire like faithful dogs of the foreign assassins, to massacre their people!”
“Never give up hope, or all is lost,” Fiaz shrugged. “Let us concentrate on the good people in the world. Anyway, with the fair coming up and the plans that we have just heard, we are going to have to work together as never before! I pray Allah gives us the strength and skill to overcome evil.”
“Well, this has been a most enlightening visit, Fiaz Sahib!” Ismail declared. “We must get back to Naseer Husain Sahib and brief him. Frankly, I think it’s better to cancel the fair altogether. Many people could be killed or injured if they’re going to plant bombs at the venue.”
“But the whole objective is to get Ahmad,” Fiaz-ul-Muhabat reiterated. “You heard they’re using him as a suicide bomber; we must get to him before their plan succeeds!”
“This is too much for me!” Shahzad said, putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do!”
“Be brave; that’s what you must do! I have seen the worst examples of human nature and carnage, and I have seen the best too, and we have to work hard to bring out the best in all and work for a better life,” Fiaz assured, trying to calm the young man down though failing to do so.
“Shahzad, life and death are in His hands; I believe that we have our lives planned for us before we are born,” Khalid proclaimed sincerely. “No one can erase a single line from the story of our life; we must fulfill our mission and do the best we can!”
Shahzad’s suspicion about the identity of the spy helping Talib-e-Azad was proved later that day at the hospital.
Naseer Sahib had driven Aisha and Zeina to the Civil Hospital in Khar. Rebecca had begged to come along, and he only agreed when she promised to stay in the car with him.
“I don’t think you’re well enough yet,” he argued.
“Take her along for the drive,” Safia suggested. “The change of scenery will do her good.”
“The ladies are going to plant their bug and return,” he stated. “There will be no need for us to get out of the car.”
“Absolutely!” Rebecca agreed, smiling innocently. “I’ll be as good as gold!”
“That’s what worries me, Baiti,” he replied, and knowing Rebecca as they did, they all laughed.
They arrived at the hospital, and, with flyers in hand, Aisha and Zeina made their way to the chemotherapy unit. It was quiet there. All the six cubicles had patients as the curtains shut off each cubicle.
“My sister? Gulnoor Begum?” Aisha asked the woman at the small desk. “Which bed is she in?”
“Why?” the woman asked impatiently, looking up from the newspaper she was reading.
“I must see her for a minute,” Aisha replied sweetly. I have to give her an important message.”
“Nobody’s allowed inside!” the woman said coldly.
“It’s essential, please,” Aisha begged, while Zeina slipped a 500 rupee note beside the woman’s newspaper
Quick as a flash, she pocketed the money and said, “One only; go to cubicle five. Be quick; I could lose my job if the doctor sees you! She still has 20 minutes left for her treatment of today.”
“You have a big heart, Baaji,” Aisha gushed as Zeina dashed to the fifth curtain. She remembered Rebecca had told her that Gulnoor’s burka was light blue with light blue butterflies embroidered between the pleats that ran around the bottom of her garment. She had done this so that her burka wouldn’t be confused with others at the camp. And, there it was, hanging from a hook on the wall outside the cubicle, the dainty butterflies fluttering around the hem of the burka. Zeina lost no time in inserting the tiny bug firmly in the top folds of the shroud, where it would be well hidden and yet functional.
She came out, and the women thanked the attendant, who didn’t even bother to acknowledge them.
“What a woman!” Zeina remarked as they giggled down the stairs and raised their stifling burkas.
“500 rupees is a lot of money here,” Aisha said. “She would have let us in for a quarter of that amount!”
As they came out, they were happy to see the two people approaching them. Zakiya and Mirza Ali were equally surprised to bump into them.
“Aunty Zakiya, how nice to see you,” Aisha hugged the woman while Mirza Ali gestured salaams to the women.
“Aisha, Zeina; What are you doing here?” Zakiya asked.
“The usual!” Aisha was quick to reply. “Distributing the flyers; do you have any news about my brother Ahmad?”
“If I did, you would be the first to know!” she replied, and they could see she was in a hurry to move on.
“What are you doing here, Zakiya?” Zeina. “I hope you’re in good health.”
“Yes, I’m well, thank you,” she replied. “I’m visiting a friend who’s a patient here.”
“You’re coming to the fair tomorrow, aren’t you, Aunty?” Aisha asked innocently.
“For sure, I’ll be there! See you tomorrow!” Zakiya confirmed as she waved and climbed the stairs.
They walked on silently when Zeina stopped and said, “I want to see where she’s going! I have a hunch, but I want to be sure.”
Zeina returned with an incredulous look on her face; their doubts cleared, and the two girls realized they had just met with the enemy. They dashed back to the car that the chief had parked in the shade of a large tree. They tried to tell him what had happened, and Chief Naseer calmly said, “Yes, I saw Zakiya and Mirza Ali get out of that car. There’s a child inside.”
“Oh, my God!” Rebecca gasped as they passed the vehicle. A baby played with a woman at the back of the car. “It’s Amu; Gulnoor’s baby!”
The minute the men had left, Fiaz-ul-Muhabat called Naseer Husain and told him what had conspired at Tariq Khan’s house. Nasir Hussain updated Fiaz about their encounter outside the hospital.
“I had my suspicions recently, Bhai Sahib!” Husain concluded. “And now they’re confirmed!”
“There’s no room for doubt, Bhai Sahib,” Fiaz-ul-Muhabat urged, and Chief Naseer Husain agreed, “Yes, now this is what we’re going to do!”