The Agency’s Lear jet landed at Hamid Karzai International Airport two hours after taking off from New Delhi.
‘I’ve booked us rooms in two hotels in the Green Zone,’ Beth informed them as they proceeded through the diplomatic exit with their gear.
‘We aren’t going to Badakshan right away?’ Chloe asked in surprise.
‘Nope.’ Zeb shook his head. ‘That’s a ten-hour drive. It’s five pm already. We’ll go tomorrow.’
‘You want to meet the ambassador?’
‘Yeah. Let’s get Krueger’s assessment of what’s going on in the country.’
‘There he is,’ Broker whispered in Zeb’s earpiece when the ambassador entered his hotel’s lobby at seven pm. The Agency operatives were scattered around its vast, fancy interior, giving no sign that they knew one another.
‘Ambassador Krueger?’ Zeb approached the diplomat and grinned when the man’s eyes widened at his appearance.
I bet he wasn’t expecting me in a Tee, jeans and a jacket. He thought he was meeting someone in another suit.
‘Secretary of State Farley must have called you,’ he told Krueger when the official stood uncertainly. ‘He must have described me.’
‘Yeah.’ The ambassador relaxed when he matched Zeb’s appearance to what Farley had told him. He seated himself on a couch and watched while the rest of the operatives arranged themselves around Zeb.
A server approached, took their orders and returned with their drinks.
‘No names?’ Krueger asked.
‘No, sir. For your protection.’
‘Say no more. Army? CIA?’
‘I can’t tell you that, either.’
‘I guess I could make some calls and find out.’ A smile ghosted the ambassador’s lips.
‘You could, sir,’ Bwana said softly, ‘but you wouldn’t get anywhere.’
‘You know why we are here?’
‘Sec-State told me.’ Krueger’s eyes lingered on the twins and returned to meet Zeb’s gaze. ‘You folks are here to find Pasha.’
‘What can you tell us about what’s going on here?’
‘You play chess?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘This is chess on the political scale. There’s Rahmani, the president, a good, honorable man. There’s Rasouli—’
‘The vice-president?’
‘Yeah, him. He’s ambitious, too. He wanted to be president. But he seems to be happy where he is. The president gives him a lot of importance and I guess that satisfies his ego. But, make no mistake. He will gouge anyone’s eyes to occupy Rahmani’s role.’
He sipped his coffee and continued. ‘And then there are the Taliban, led by Ahmadzai. But they aren’t a homogenous group. There are several factions led by chieftains. They have come together under his leadership, but there are a few groups who aren’t happy with him. They think he’s too easy on the government.’
‘Pasha is one of those warlords?’
‘He used to be. Atash Faroukh has taken over the Badakshan Taliban now.’
‘They seem to be behind the peace deal,’ Chloe commented.
‘They are, but only if Pasha returns and agrees to it, then almost all factions will fall in behind. Of course, there’s also the possibility that he might decide the Taliban should continue fighting, in which case the president’s negotiation is dead in the water. However,’—he smiled at the operatives’ expressions—‘Ahmadzai thinks he can control the Badakshan warlord.’
‘Can he?’
‘Pasha is a killer. I’m sure you’re aware of what he’s done in the country. My view is, he’ll go with the negotiation until he familiarizes himself with how things go.’
‘And then?’
‘It’s anyone’s guess.’ The ambassador shrugged his shoulders. ‘My take is, the Taliban will sign up to the deal and put down arms. But not for long. Pasha will mount a coup, kill Ahmadzai, and demand that the Taliban be in the government.’
‘Won’t you need Ahmadzai’s help?’ Krueger asked after a while. ‘His people found that dead man.’
‘Faroukh’s men did,’ Zeb corrected him. ‘We’ll figure something out. We won’t need to go through Ahmadzai.’
‘Politics.’ Bear shook his head when the operatives gathered for dinner that evening. ‘What Krueger said was right. It is chess.’
‘What’re you thinking?’ Chloe nudged Zeb with her shoulder.
‘Atash Faroukh.’
‘What about him?’
‘He’ll want to kill us.’