Free The Bard of Blood by Bilal Siddiqi Page A

shattered after his assassination. Their thoughts converged simultaneously to the point that had triggered off this discussion. The four Indian agents held captive in Quetta.
    ‘Now see this,’ Saleh continued, pointing to the TV screen that had had a static image on it for the past half hour.
    Kabir looked at the screen and saw the hierarchy, in the form of a flow chart, of the Quetta Shura that Saleh had produced. It was an image that he had used consistently even during his days at the NDS.
    ‘The Quetta Shura leadership structure has two main bodies . . .’ he began. Kabir completed his sentence for him, ‘The Rahbari Shura and the Majlis-al-Shura. The Rahbari Shura, which translates to “leadership gathering”, is where Omar feeds his ideological spiel from. The latter is based more on the strategy of the Taliban.’
    ‘The Quetta Shura is the intellectual underpinning of the Taliban insurgency in Afghanistan’ read a caption, as Saleh flipped to the next screen with the remote. It had maps, obtained through drone imagery, tiled up along with photographs.
    ‘This is the Madrasa Fayyaz-ul-Uloom that Mullah Baradar has set up. It’s nothing short of a fortress, but then it does have entry and exit points that are unguarded.’ He then flipped to another image. It was a large compound with high walls, with the hills around it forming natural barriers on three sides. Impossible had just gotten tougher.
    ‘This is where Omar’s training camp, where he operates from, is,’ Saleh said. ‘He resides here as well. If by any chance your compatriots are held captive here, you can forget about rescuing them.’
    Kabir took in a deep breath. There were four of them in all, he recalled. To infiltrate this and get his people out would be a tactical nightmare. In a Hollywood film, the four of them would’ve come out unscathed with their spoils, but in reality, Saleh was right. This was mission impossible.
    Saleh then flipped to another image. Another madrasa. ‘Dar-ul-Islam’, the caption below the picture read. ‘This one is where Omar works his magic with young boys,’ Saleh said, spewing contempt. ‘It is run by the Haqqani Network.’
    The Haqqani Network, which, rather unsurprisingly, has the backing of the ISI and the Pakistani Army, was undoubtedly Afghanistan’s most sophisticated insurgency organization and terror syndicate. Needless to say, it’s now the most dreaded outfit in the world, since the death of Osama bin Laden. The Haqqani Network operates from their safe haven in North Waziristan. It is run by Sirajuddin Haqqani, the son of the famous anti-Soviet fighter Jalaluddin Haqqani. Siraj is more ruthless than his father, and openly supports anti-India operations. Kabir wouldn’t be surprised if the captives were held in this madrasa, since Siraj would openly support and take responsibility for the ISI’s nefarious and extremist anti-India activities.
    ‘Technically, the Haqqani Network falls under the Quetta Shura umbrella,’ Saleh chipped in. ‘But they maintain a distinct command and control.’
    Kabir swallowed. His throat had gone dry. So many elements, all coalescing to disrupt the peace amongst humanity. The coffee was over, even in the pot. Kabir got up to stretch, and walked up to the refrigerator. ‘Can I have a Coke?’
    ‘Of course,’ Saleh said with a chiding smile. ‘Too much caffeine, Mr Anand?’
    Kabir smiled and glugged down a mouthful. He enjoyed the slight bite of the drink in his dry throat.
    ‘The Haqqanis,’ Saleh continued, ‘are the most vicious sons of bitches you’re ever likely to find. The Shura is relatively weaker than them at this stage. And with their momentum building and the Shura’s power diminishing, they may begin to co-opt the Shura.’
    Kabir finished the Coke and crushed the can. Saleh moved to the next slide.
    ‘Should Omar die,’ Kabir said solemnly, ‘the Haqqanis will seize the overall leadership of the Quetta Shura. Omar, all said and