The Erroneous
Talibani showcases all the essential components of the classic espionage novel.
Exotic settings, broken hearts, treacherous allies, love, violence, redemption
and vengeance spin through the book, which moves at a breakneck pace worthy of
the best examples of the genre.
Greg Damet, an
Annapolis graduate with eight years in Naval
Intelligence is recruited by the CIA where he meets and falls in love
with Jacquie Dean. Together they are sent to Afghanistan to work with the
Special Forces. Greg is sent into the field while Jacquie remains at Bagram Air
Base.
During Greg’s tour
of duty, his plane is shot down, eats raw snake to survive and is ultimately
captured and beaten nearly to death by the Taliban. He is discovered by Aysha,
the daughter of a tribal chieftain and she nurses him back to health. During
his recovery, the two develop a romantic attraction for each other. It is also
while he is recovering that he is able to obtain information that has dire
international consequences, information supplied by a CIA mole. Armed with this
information, Greg is forced to kiss a tearful Aysha good-bye and do whatever it
takes to get to the American Embassy in Islamabad. Greg’s initial action there
is key to unraveling the mystery of the mole’s true identity.
Richard Asner
describes himself as having led a “very fruitful life,” and it would be
impossible to dispute him. A veteran of the U.S. Marines, which he joined at
17, he went on to graduate from the Naval Academy, like his hero Greg Damet. He
then spent eight years as a naval aviator teaching midshipmen at
Northwestern University during the last three years of his
flying career.
Mr.Asner moved his
focus to engineering and spent thirty years working in that field in the
Chicago area before retiring. His primary enthusiasm is working out in his
health club, but the keyboard will continue to compete with the weight room as
a focus for his energy.
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Book Excerpt: Twenty-One
“Father, come
quickly. Bubba has just discovered a badly wounded Taliban soldier who
desperately needs our help”
“He’s in a cave,
not far from here.”
“How badly is he
hurt? Can he walk at all?”
“No, Father, he
can’t. He barely move.”
“Alright, we’ll take the wood cart we
have for hauling wood. It’s about the right size.”
The cart looks as
if it were made 100 years earlier, boxy in shape with side boards, two large
wooden wheels in front and two sturdy handles at the rear, looking pretty much
like a big old-fashioned wheelbarrow.
“Hazar and Bannu,
grab the wood cart and come with me. Very well, Aysha! Show us the way.”
They start out
heading north. The cart shakes and rattles as it passes over some rather rough
rocky ground. Occasionally, one of the wheels becomes wedged between two rocks
and it takes some effort to force the cart forward. In about twenty minutes
they reach the cave. They find Jamal in great pain. Gazni asks him in Urdu,
“Where does it hurt?”
Jamal responds,
“All over.”
Jamal struggles
and speaks haltingly, “I got separated from my group. The Americans found me,
brought me here and beat me to give them information.”
Aysha says,
“You’re in good hands now. We will take care of you and make you well again.”
The four of them
lift Jamal off the ground and carefully lay him down on the surface of the wood
cart. Aysha starts to get in next to Jamal to comfort him, but decides against
it, thinking it would be too much of a load. Hazar and Bannu each grab a handle
and begin the jolting trip back to camp. On the way back, they stop at various
times to tend to Jamal and give him a chance to rest a bit before traveling on.
After about an hour of this rather arduous journey for Jamal, they reach camp.
They carry Jamal into the camp’s only two room cabin, reserved for Gazni, the
tribal leader and Aysha his daughter. It is also used on occasion for tribal
meetings. Gazni asks Hazar and Bannu to place Jamal on his bed for now. Then
Gazni says to Hazar, “You have an extra bed in your place. Bring it over.”
A few minutes
later, Hazar along with Bannu return with the extra bed.
“Place it in the
corner next to the door. This is only temporary until his condition improves
enough for him to move in with Bannu.”
“Yes. It will only
be long enough until he’s ready to travel. Then he will be joining his Taliban
friends when they return.”
Jamal hears this
with no small concern. I don’t want to be
here when they return. I wonder when that might be. Jamal mumbles something
and Aysha bends over Jamal.
“What is it Jamal?
I didn’t hear you.”
In a voice barely
audible, “What day is it?”
“It’s 16 Rabi one.
(April 4 on Gregorian calendar.)
Jamal studies the
situation. Okay! What’s 16Rabi one? That
has to be their Islamic calendar. I don’t dare ask her what year it is. Anyway,
I know as much now as I did before. I remember it was April 2 the day Joe and I
were ambushed in the cave. I don’t know how long I was out before Aysha found
me. I’m going to guess a day. Then it was another day or two that I was in the
cave with Aysha watching over me. I have to say it’s about the fourth or fifth
of April. The Taliban have left their winter haven and have probably started
their summer offensive. Chances are they won’t be back for some time, unless
they return at some point for a little R and R. I’m going to estimate a couple
of weeks to recover.
Jamal looks around the cabin. There’s
an old potbelly wood burning stove in the center with a smoke stack penetrating
through the flat wooden and tar paper roof and a rickety wooden table with a
kerosene lantern. One leg appears to be a bit shorter than the other three
causing the table to wobble. There are two sturdy chairs and one other bed with
a rope and canvas base, no mattress, a front door, a back door, a third door
leading to another room and a window in each of two side walls. Aysha must have the second room and Gazni
must have the one bed in this room.
That night after
everyone had eaten, Jamal could hear the sounds of music and people singing
outside the cabin. I kinda wondered what
they did for entertainment in the hills here. They sound pretty good. Aysha is
gone. I’ll bet she is part of the entertainment.
Jamal listens for a while and
eventually drifts off to sleep. In the morning, he wakes up early to see Aysha
sleeping on the floor next to him.
This isn’t right. I have to make a greater
effort to get back on my feet.
A few minutes later Aysha wakes up. She
glances over at Jamal and asks, “How do you feel this morning?”
“I’m feeling much
better. I feel I can talk now without too much effort, but I have to as you,
how do you feel after sleeping on the floor all night? Why did you do that?”
“I wanted to be
close by in case you needed anything during the night. Don’t let it bother
you.”
The fire has gone
out in the potbelly stove. Aysha looks at Jamal, “I must get some wood for the
stove and restart the fire. It is still a little cold in here. It warms up
during the day, but you know all that. I know you suffered a lot during those
days you spent alone in the cave.
Gazni is awakened
by Aysha stirring about. “Aysha, you must get some wood and restart the fire.”
“I know father. I
was just on my way when you woke up.”
Aysha leaves to
pick up the wood and Gazni looks over at Jamal, “How do you feel this morning?”
“I feel much
better than I did yesterday, thank you. I slept better last night than I have
in several days. I am going to try to sit up.”
Just then Aysha
returns with her arms loaded with logs. “Jamal, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to do my best to sit up.”
Aysha drops the
logs on the floor and rushes over to help Jamal in his effort to sit up.
“I think I can
make it, Aysha.”
Jamal struggles,
but with Aysha’s help, he manages to get up. He sits on the edge of the bed for
a brief few minutes and says, “I think I need to lie down again for a while. We
can try this again little later.” Aysha helps him back down.
“That was good,
Jamal. You’re making some improvement.”
For the first
time, he takes a long look at Aysha. I
know I must be feeling better. I never really noticed before how attractive she
is. Even in that babushka I can see she has long black raven hair. I have known
some women that would look terrific wearing a gunny sack. Aysha is that kind of
woman. She’s not wearing a gunny sack, but that peasant dress isn’t a whole lot
better. If I can’t recover quickly by just having her near, then maybe I should
crawl back into that cave.
Meanwhile, Aysha
has started the fire in the potbelly stove and it is already giving off heat to
begin to warm the room. “The warmth feels good, Aysha. You’ll make some man a
good wife one day.”
“Jamal, you should
know I was married once. My husband became ill and died of, ---I don’t know the
name. I think it’s a name that sounds like new something.”
“Are you trying to
say pneumonia?”
“Yes! I think that
is the word. He was out with others cutting down trees for firewood two years
ago during a very cold winter and became ill with, --- what was that word?”
“Yes!
New---Mo---Ne---A.”
“You are spending
so much time with me, I have to assume you have no children. Am I right?”
“I was hearing
some music being played outside the cabin last night. I have to say it sounded
pretty good. Quite professional! I noticed you were gone at the time. Were you
playing an instrument?”
“No! I sing and
dance with ghungroos.”
“With ghungroos?
What are ghungroos?”
“They are ankle
bells that I use while dancing. You’ll have to get well fast so you can come
and join us.”
“I know a few
Pakistani songs, I ‘m afraid I’m not much of a dancer.”
“Would you like to
learn? I’ll teach you.”
“Thanks, Aysha,
but I think I’ll just stick to singing. Maybe I should say, murdering a few
songs.”
“You’re going to
kill some songs? How do you do that?”
“The first time
you hear me sing, you’ll know what I mean.”
The next two days
pass by rather quickly and Jamal has managed to free himself of the bed off and
on during the day. Having so much free time during the day has given him an
opportunity to talk to Gazni. He has learned from these talks a little bit of
what tribal life is like. Basically, the tribe subsists on smuggling and
selling stolen goods. And as a Pashtun, they have a special code that they live
by, that is to give shelter to anyone who asks for it.
“I want to thank
you, Gazni, for taking me in like this. You didn’t have to.”
“It’s really Aysha
you be thanking. She’s the one who found you.”
“You’re right, I
owe her my life and I’ll never be able to repay her. However, thanks to you, I
wouldn’t be here getting my life back without your permission.”
“Well, you are a
Taliban and we are obliged to take care of your people.”
“You make it sound
as if this is something you have to do. Is this something you have to do,
Gazni?”
“I don’t think we
should talk anymore about this. You just get well as quickly as you can, so you
can return to your people. When do you expect them to return?”
“I’m not really sure,
Gazni.”
“Don’t you know?
They are your people.”
“I was sent out
ahead of my group to scout the area. That’s when I was taken by the Americans. What
do you think of Americans, Gazni?”
“The only people I
truly care about are my people, the ones that look to me for guidance and
leadership. That’s all I care to say about this right now.”
With that, Gazni
leaves the cabin. All during the conversation with Gazni, Aysha was sitting on
one of the two wooden chairs next to the table with one short leg.
“You heard what I
told Gazni. I owe you my life. There will never be anyway that I can repay you.
All I can say is, thank you from the bottom of my heart.’
“From the bottom
of your heart? What does that mean?”
“It means I give
you total thanks and I would do anything for you.”
“Anything that’s
with my power to give you. I don’t have much to give right now.”
“Let’s wait until
you get better.”
It is now week
from the time Jamal was brought into the camp. During that time, he has had
many talks with Gazni and Aysha. Although Gazni has never said it directly,
Jamal knows that Gazni has an intense dislike for the Taliban. He’s just very
reluctant to express it. On the other hand, Aysha is above any antipathy for anyone.
“ Aysha, I think
I’m well enough to leave the cabin for a little while. I would like very much
to join you tonight during the musical gathering.”
“What a great
idea. It’ll be fun. You’ll enjoy it.”
That evening after
every had finished eating, Aysha removes one of the wooden chairs from the
cabin to give Jamal something to sit on. She helps Jamal outside as the camp’s
musicians begin tuning up. This is the first real opportunity that Jamal has
had to see what the tribal area looks like.
Glancing around,
he counts eleven stone and timber one-room dwellings circling an area roughly
100 feet in diameter. Looks like each one
would hold eight to ten people. I don’t see a stack of any kind sticking out
from any of the roofs. That can only mean no source of heat inside their homes.
However, in the center of the camp is what looks like about a five-foot
diameter pit holding a blazing fire.
People begin to
gather around the fire. About twenty to thirty feet from the fire are several
large boulders that are used by the tribal musicians to sit on as they play.
They have a number of different types of instruments.
“Aysha, can you
tell me a little about the instruments they are using?”
“All the
instruments you see are played both in Pakistan and India and to some extent in
Afghanistan. Hazro is playing a shanal. It has a reed type sound. Pindi has a
swarmandal. It is played with little hammers and strings. That instrument is
mainly Indian. Hazar and Bannu play the
sitar and Tani plays the tabla. You know it as a drum. And as I mentioned
before, I dance with ghungroos around my ankles. They were tuning up while we
were talking. I think they are about ready to start. Sit back and enjoy,
Jamal.”
The musicians
begin to play and everyone in the camp begin to sing and clap to the music.
Aysha gets up wearing her ghungroos and begins to dance. Then one by one,
several others join her.
I know some of these songs. I won’t be very
loud, but who cares? Everyone here seems to accept me as a wounded Taliban.
It’s hard to believe I have deceived so many people. I’m not sure about Gazni
though. I think he has some suspicions. He is very astute. I may have to own up
to him at some point in the future, maybe the near future. He doesn’t seem to
care for the Taliban much. I wonder how he feels about Americans, especially
one working for the CIA. I know the Pashtuns have a code of granting shelter to
anyone who asks for it, but how far can one stretch that? I think I’m a pretty
good judge of human character though and I think Gazni would respect me more if
I came clean with him. Besides, Aysha may have already told Gazni how she found
me. I know how hard it is for some people to keep a secret about anything very
long.
The festivities continue for almost two
hours. Gradually people leave little by little and retreat to their shelters.
Finally, the
musicians put down their instruments and begin packing up. Aysha walks over to
Jamal and says, “Well, Jamal, what did you think of our music? Did you have a
good time?”
“Of course! I had
a great time. I was a little worried about you though, having to tae your shoes
off in order to dance with those bells around your ankles. Weren’t your feet
cold?”
“Not really! I’m
used to it. Let me help you back into the cabin. Then I have to make sure we
have a fire in the stove for the night”
“Aysha, I hope you
are not offended by this question, but have you talked to Gazni about how you
found me? By that I mean, have you mentioned that I’m not a Taliban?”
“No, I haven’t. But I’m going to have to
tell him some time. Some way he will find out on his own and I’m not sure what
the consequences might be. I have to be honest with him.”
“I was thinking of
discussing it with him tomorrow. Would you rather mention it to him or would
you like me to?”
“I think it would
be better if I told him, but with you present.”
“That’s agreeable
with me, Aysha.”
The next morning,
Jamal is awakened to hear Aysha stoking the fire.
“How do you feel
this morning, sleepy head?”
“It’s midmorning
and it looks like you had a good night’s sleep.”
“Yes, I did and
I’m feeling pretty good right now.”
“Would you like
something to eat?”
“That would be
great. Thank you.”
“I’ll fix you a
little flat bread, rice and beans and some goat’s milk.”
“That sounds
delicious, Aysha. Thank you very much.”
About the time
Jamal finishes eating, Gazni storms into the cabin, mad as hell about
something.
“What is it,
father? What’s wrong?”
“The Taliban are
returning. I didn’t expect them back this soon.”
There’s a knock on
the door. Gazni opens the door and asks, “Yes, what is it?
“We have a wounded
brother, Mazar, who could use your help.”
“Bring him in. He
can join one of your fellow brothers.”
“What do you mean
by that?”
“I’m taking care
of one of your brothers already, Jamal.”
“Well, he claims
to be one of your Taliban brothers.”
Jamal is listening
to this and is beginning to feel like a trapped animal.
Then Gazni says,
“On second thought, we don’t have enough room here. Take him over to Hazro’s
shelter. I think he may have a little more room there. I’ll show you the way.”
Gazni departs.
Jamal looks at Aysha and says, “What do we do now, punt?”
Looking rather
puzzled, Aysha responds, “I don’t know what you mean, but I think the sooner we
confess to Gazni, the better.”
Moments later,
Gazni returns.
“Father, Jamal and
I have something we want you to know.”
“I found Jamal in
a cave.”
“When I found him,
he wasn’t wearing what you see him wearing now. He was wearing western clothes,
clothes that were very stained with blood.”
“My real name is
Greg Damet and I was working with the U.S. Special Forces when my friend and I
were surprised by a large number of the Taliban. We were both beaten to
unconsciousness. When Aysha found me, my friend was gone and so were the
Taliban. Aysha felt a certain compassion for me for some reason and felt
compelled to help.”
“But why didn’t
you both tell me this right away?”
“We both felt that
if you got to know me first, you attitude toward me might be different.”
“Well, you are
right about that. I like you, Jamal. Or should I call you Greg? No, I think I
should stick with Jamal. You speak perfect Urdu. How do you explain that?”
“Although I was
born and raised in America, my mother is from Pakistan. She taught me the
language and customs as I was growing up.”
“So you are half
Pakistani. You look Pakistani. No one would ever suspect you to be an American,
especially in those clothes.” --- “You know, Jamal, you are also liked by the
other tribal leader here, Mamoud. I feel I must tell him who you really are and
swear him to secrecy. If this really got around to the whole camp, you could be
in big trouble with a few members of the Taliban that are here at the moment.
As a matter of fact, we could all be in big trouble with the Taliban if they
were to find out we were harboring an American.”
Three days pass by
before Gazni hears another knock on his door.
“We just stopped
by to say we are taking our brother back to the fight. His leg wound seems to
be healing very well and he is anxious to get back into action.”
“Allah be praised.
Give your leader, Sabawi, my highest regards.”
After they are
gone, Mamoud approaches Gazni and says, “I like Jamal very much, but you know
Gazni, having him here is a threat to all of us. How long do you plan to keep
him?”
“No longer than it
takes for him to fully recover! He took one hell of a beating.”
“Well, that may be
nothing when you compare it to what this tribe will suffer if the Taliban find
out.”
“But they are not
going to find out, are they!”
“Seems like the
Taliban that were here left in a kind of a hurry. Do you suspect they might
know something?”
“Not unless they
were told by somebody and there was no way for that to happen, was there!”
“No. Not that I
know of, not unless someone overheard us talking.”
Mamoud has been
looking for an opportunity to become the number one leader of the tribe and
sees this as an opportunity to destroy Gazni. If I make a report to the Taliban about Gazni, it will save the tribe
from any potential danger and I in turn will be number one.
That night Mamoud sets out to find the
Taliban army. The next day Gazni looks for Mamoud for their daily morning
meeting. He checks with Mamoud’s family and a number of others in the tribe. No
one seems to be able to account for him.
Gazni returns to
Mamoud’s family and talks to his wife, Shirza. “This is not like Mamoud. Why do
you suppose he would disappear like this without telling anyone?”
“I don’t know,
Gazni. This is the first time he has ever done anything like this.”
Gazni returns to
Aysha and Jamal. “Mamoud has left the camp without telling anyone and no one
knows where he has gone. The question is, why would he do that? There is only
one possible reason that I can think of and it has to do with you, Jamal. I
have suspected he has been looking for a reason to take over my responsibility
as tribal leader for some time. I think he means to turn you in.”
“If you could make
up a couple of crutches, I’ll try to make it out of here.”
“You’re still in
no shape to travel, even with crutches. At this point we don’t know how long it
will take him to find the Taliban. As you already know, this is a big rugged
country and can take days to travel just a few kilometers on foot. It could
take him a week or two to locate the Taliban. In the meantime, we just sit
tight. I’ll post scouts to warn us of any approaching Taliban. I know a place
where I can hide you, if need be.”
Mamoud is four
days out of camp wandering through the hills bordering the Khyber Pass. “I’m fairly certain the group that left camp
headed this way. This is the easiest way back into Afghanistan and I’m sure
they must have been returning to the Taliban main body. The question is which
side of the Pass did they head for? I think my best bet is to make my way
toward the Tora Bora area.”
After a little over a day and a half,
Mamoud reaches the mountain peak of Tora Bora and there is no sign of the
Taliban. “This range covers quite a large
area both east and west. I think I’ll have a better chance of finding them by
traveling west, deeper into Afghanistan.”
As Mamoud grapples with the rocky
mountain side, a shot rings out. Mamoud doubles over in pain and grasping his
staff, slumps on top of a large boulder.
Maury Albright
looks at Bill Bishop and says, “It looks like we have one less Taliban to
contend with.”
“Let’s make sure
of that.”
“Easy Bill, there
may be others in the area.”
Bill and Maury
gradually make their way over to Mamoud who is still barely alive. After reaching
him, Mamoud struggles to say something. Maury bends over to hear what he is
trying to say. At that point, Mamoud reaches up with his right hand, grabs hold
of the collar of his fatigues and pulls Maury toward him. Wheezing and gasping
for air, he says, “You don’t know what you have done. You have not killed a
Taliban, but a Pashtun of Gazni’s tribe. You will pay.” Mamoud then drops his
head and dies.
“Could you make
out what he was saying, Bill?”
“I don’t know the
language all that well, but I think he was trying to tell us he wasn’t a
Talibani. If he wasn’t a Talibani, what was he doing in this area?”
“We’ll never know,
Bill. It looks like this is another one of the tragedies of war. I think we
should give him a proper burial.”
Jamal, meanwhile,
is showing marked improvement in strength and mobility. “How are you feeling
this morning, Jamal?”
“Gazni, I feel
like I’m on top of the world.”
“That’s good, I
guess. Rather the top than the bottom, eh?”
“I think I can
travel any day now.”
“Where do you plan
to go when you leave?”
“I’m not sure. I’m
fairly certain that the unit I was working with is not in the same area where
they were when I left it. It would be almost impossible to find them again. I
think I will try to make my way to the American Embassy in Islamabad. It may be
a little closer than Kabul.”
No sooner had
Jamal finished speaking with Gazni, when a member of Gazni’s outlying posts
comes running into camp.
“The Taliban are
headed this way, about fifty of them.”
“Oh, great! We
have to find a place for you, Jamal. I know just the spot. There’s a small room
underneath the cabin hidden by a few loose floor boards. It isn’t very cozy
down there, but you’ll be out of sight for a while until I find out why they
have returned.”
Jamal and Gazni
enter the cabin and walk over to Gazni’s bed. “Are you up to giving me a hand
moving this bed?”
After moving the
bed, Gazni reaches down and removes six rather loose floor boards, revealing a
crudely made step ladder into a dark, totally unlit dank hole in the ground
that measures about eight feet in each direction.
“I know this is a
little like solitary confinement, Jamal, but it is only temporary until I know
it’s safe for you to come out. In you go!”
Jamal descends the
step ladder a rung at a time reluctantly, wondering what is really at the
bottom rung. At the bottom, he calls up to Gazni, “What’s down here? I can’t
see a thing.”
“You’ll find a cot
and a table with a kerosene lantern. Here, I’ll bring down a lighted candle.
You can use it to light the lantern. Hopefully, you won’t have to be down there
too long.”
Gazni hands him
the candle and climbs back up, then covers up the entrance with the loose floor
boards. Jamal can hear Gazni shoving the bed across the floor as the last step
in this cat and mouse game.
Jamal is thinking,
“Yeah, --and I’m the mouse.” Taking
the candle, Jamal finds the kerosene lantern and lights it. “Holy smokes! This really is nothing more
than a big hole in the ground with a dirt floor and dirt walls. It seems I have
my own little private abyss. Now I have just a very slight taste of what some
of our Vietnam POW’s went through, only I know I’ll be getting out of here
sometime soon. Guess I’ll just lie down on this cot and enjoy it.”
Gazni, swings open
the front door of the cabin and walks onto his own little plaza with its
version of an eternal fire in the center pit. Approaching him is Sabawi, the
local Taliban leader.
“Ah, Sabawi! Good
to see you again, but I didn’t expect to see you this soon.”
“We just had a
very rough battle with the Americans and thought we would return for a short
while to take advantage of your hospitality.”
“Well, you and
your men make yourselves at home.”
“That’s very kind of you, Gazni. We have a
man that needs some medical attention. Do you have any more medical supplies
left?”
“Yes, you’ll find
them I Bannu’s shelter. I believe you remember where that is.”
“I’ve had the
pleasure of taking care of two of your brothers very recently. Mazar has
returned to the fight. The other, Jamal, is still here recovering.”
“I know Mazar, but
I can’t say that I know Jamal. He must be part of a different group.”
“That could be. I
have several groups that like to take advantage of our hospitality. Please!
Make yourself at home.”
“Thank you, Gazni.
We’ll only be here three or four days.”
Sabawi walks off
toward Bannu’s shelter and Gazni walks back into his cabin. He moves the bed away
from the entrance to the room below and pulls away the loose floor boards. “How
are you getting along down there?”
“Gazni? Yeah, I
was just taking a nap in an attempt to escape this place.”
“Well, you can
take a nap up here, if you like. Based on my brief conversation with Sabawi,
the Taliban leader, I don’t believe Mamoud managed to make it to his group. He
didn’t show any indication that he knew anything about you.” Jamal puts out the
kerosene lantern and gleefully climbs out of this very dark dank hole in the
ground.
“I can’t tell you
how happy I am to climb out of that, ---what’s your name for the room, Gazni?”
“I call it a
shelter room, but it is better known as The Pit.”
“I couldn’t have
said it better.”
“I think it is
possible, even wise, for you to step outside and mingle with your Taliban
brothers. It would give you an air of acceptability. Discuss your capture and
the beatings by the Americans causing you to have some memory loss. You speak
Urdu very fluently. You should have no trouble.”
“Gazni, the only
thing that concerns me right now, is that I don’t know if some of Sabawi’s men
aren’t the ones that damn near killed me.”
“That’s the chance
you’ll have to take and only you can make that choice. I have to say though,
that if by chance you are discovered, for the sake of my people, I will have to
say that you made your way here claiming to be a Taliban warrior. I won’t be
able to help you. I don’t believe you are able to travel yet. You still appear
to be rather weak. What do you plan to do?”
Author: Jane Green
Author: Kimberly Kinrade
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Author:Karen Hawkins
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