Pasha reveled in the fighters’ attention as he was carried up the cliff.
‘Yes,’ he repeated again after he had narrated his experience in the MSS prison, ‘the Chinese had me. I was their prisoner. I don’t know if they recognized me, but they treated me well. I wasn’t tortured. I don’t know what deal the Americans made with them, but I was brought in a helicopter and handed to them.’
He recounted every moment of his border crossing after bathing and having a heavy meal. ‘They had some kind of sheet over me. I think it shields them from night cameras.’
‘We should get those,’ Faroukh mused, sitting next to him, with several fighters listening to every word.
‘Bakhtiar and I planned this attack,’ Pasha said bitterly, ‘but that American was smart. His snipers took our men out, and that gave him the advantage. We will get them. Tell our spies what they look like. Last time, we only knew about that American who attacked you and me—’
‘Do you know his name?’
‘No, they were careful. They never called each other by name in front of me. But it won’t be hard to find them, not with that black man and three women with him. Tell all the Taliban gangs about it.’
‘We can’t do that, sahib,’ Faroukh said respectfully.
‘Why not?’ Pasha’s eyebrows came together angrily. ‘That American wounded me and you. No one who has done that has lived. They should die, all of them. We should chop their heads off, like we used to.’
‘Ahmadzai has other plans for us.’
‘Mir Pazhman Ahmadzai? That politician? What’s he have to do with anything?’
‘He’s our representative, sahib, with the government.’
‘Bah! That’s in Kabul. We are in Badakshan. We rule here.’
‘It’s not so simple as that, sahib. Ahmadzai and Rahmani were close to a peace deal. Our representative wanted power sharing with the government, but the president rejected that. Both sides agreed to a compromise. We would settle for your return. That’s why those Americans brought you back alive. Otherwise, they might have killed you on the way.’
Pasha listened furiously as he fingered the M16 in his lap. ‘Have you gone mad, Faroukh?’ he challenged his subordinate. No one could question his return to power the moment he set foot in Sori. The way he had been greeted by the fighters, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that he was the real leader of the Badakshan Taliban faction. ‘Since when have we started listening to politicians?’
‘Many of the Taliban want peace, sahib. I tried to argue with Ahmadzai, but he put pressure on me. He said he would hold a press conference and accuse me of standing in the way of peace.’
‘The only press conferences we should have is after we behead Americans.’
‘Those days are gone—’
‘Never, as long as I am alive.’
Pasha sat erect, proudly, as several fighters cheered his words.
‘Let me talk to Ahmadzai. I’ll convince him—’
‘Here, take my phone.’
‘No.’ The Taliban leader waved Faroukh’s offer away. ‘I have Bakhtiar’s. I will use his. What’s Ahmadzai’s number?’
Mir Pazhman Ahmadzai was having dinner with several of his leaders when his phone rang. He frowned at the number and accepted the call.
‘Yes?’ he answered guardedly.
‘Is that how you greet a friend?’
The Taliban leader frowned for a moment. That voice … it sounded familiar. ‘Pasha!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s you?’
‘Yes, I was brought back by the Americans you sent.’
‘I didn’t send them.’
‘You got them to act, which is the same thing.’
‘Where were you all these days? Are you safe? Are you injured?’
‘I was in a Chinese jail.’
Ahmadzai put the phone on the table and turned on its speaker as his visitors crowded around it. He listened without interrupting while Pasha recited his tale of capture, imprisonment and rescue.
‘What’s this I am hearing from Faroukh?’ the Badakshan chieftain’s voice rose. ‘That we are agreeing to a peace deal?’
‘That’s what the people want. Even our fighters—’
‘Not my fighters,’ Pasha roared. ‘We have always lived by the gun and have taught the Russians, the British and the Americans a lesson.’
‘Your ways are over, Pasha. You and your men terrorize Afghan women, behead—’
‘I AM ENFORCING OUR RELIGION.’
‘Who made you the enforcer?’
‘WHAT’S THAT GOT TO DO WITH THE PEACE DEAL?’
‘That deal will get signed, with or without you,’ Ahmadzai said savagely. ‘Our country needs to join the rest of the world. We need to lay down our arms. If you come along, then all the Taliban fighters in Afghanistan will be united.’
‘You are selling us out, Ahmadzai. Power has gone to your head. Just because you sit down with the president and go on TV to make speeches, don’t think you speak for all of the Taliban—’
‘There’s a bigger picture that you aren’t seeing.’
‘What’s that?’ Pasha said angrily.
He waited for Ahmadzai’s response, but there was a long silence instead.
‘Are you there?’ He glanced at his phone.
‘Yes. This is too sensitive to be told like this. Come to Kabul. I’ll tell you in person.’
‘Kabul?’ Pasha snorted. ‘The police will arrest me the moment they see me.’
‘This is why I said you aren’t seeing the big picture,’ Ahmadzai explained patiently. ‘It was my demand that the Americans release you.’
‘They didn’t capture me.’
‘I know that now, but they secured your release. My point is, the president agreed to my demand. You won’t be arrested. You can parade in the streets of Afghanistan and no police will harass you. Not even the Western soldiers. You are safe, as long as you don’t break the ceasefire. No bombing, no killing, and above all, no raping.’
Pasha picked an apple from a bowl of fruit and bit into it as he considered Ahmadzai’s suggestion.
‘I’ll come,’ he declared. ‘Let Rahmani and the whole country know Mir Roushan Pasha is back.’
‘What about those Americans, sahib?’ Faroukh asked when the call ended.
‘Nothing’s changed. We’ll hunt them down and kill them.’ The Taliban chieftain smiled wickedly. ‘We can always say they attacked us. Besides, they are not Afghans. Killing them won’t be considered breaking the ceasefire.’