Free BLOWBACK by Mukul Deva Page B

to.’
    ‘Inshallah!’ the man repeated simply, raising his hands heavenwards. ‘So, Ghazi was saying you had a shootout with the army?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘That’s strange... very strange. They never bother us – at least not in this part of the country.’ There was a hint of suspicion in his tone, or so it seemed to the ever watchful Tanaz.
    ‘Maybe they thought I was helpless,’ she replied, sticking to the version she had given earlier, ‘because my man was injured.’
    ‘Maybe!’ The man watched her unblinkingly. ‘Where are you two coming from?’
    ‘Across.’ Tanaz’s answer was monosyllabic.
    ‘What did you go there for?’
    ‘We were sent for a task.’
    ‘What task?’
    ‘If you were meant to know, you would have been told.’ Tanaz’s eyes dared him.
    ‘Bitch!’ he spat out. ‘Why don’t you just clean him up instead of chatting me up?’
    Tanaz turned away silently, relieved the inquisition was over, at least for the moment. She filled the metal basin lying in the corner with water and taking a wad of cotton from the cabinet, began to clean Iqbal, starting with his face, working her way down his body, careful to keep away from the bandaged parts.
    ‘Where are we now?’ she asked after a while.
    ‘It’s a safehouse given to us by the ISI,’ he said. ‘But it’s mostly the Arabs and other foreigners who use it.’
    ‘Arabs?’ Tanaz couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. ‘What are they doing in these parts? I thought they kept to the north.’
    ‘For a woman, you seem quite well informed about these things.’ The man gave her another keen look.
    ‘Why shouldn’t I be?’ Tanaz retorted belligerently. ‘So what if I am a woman? Does that make me any less a mujahideen?’ She turned to face him. ‘Don’t you know I’ve sacrificed both my brothers for the cause… not to mention three years of my life?’
    ‘All right, all right! Don’t get so worked up. I just asked. You know how troubled these times are; one has to be careful and question everything.’
    ‘I understand.’ Tanaz discarded her belligerence, eager to have him talking again. ‘I know exactly what you mean. These days you can never take anyone at face value.’
    ‘Well, the Arabs, in fact all the outsiders, began to move out once the goras started sending their drones across the borders on search-and-destroy strikes. Especially the important ones… they are extra careful these days.’
    ‘The important ones? You mean like those who brought us here?’
    ‘Those who got you here?’ The man gave a sardonic laugh. ‘Hardly! But the man they are escorting certainly is.’
    ‘Which one is that? I didn’t see him.’
    ‘The Ameer is only seen by those he wishes to be seen by.’ He gave another knowing, almost condescending laugh. ‘In fact, you are lucky he even stopped to pick you two strays up…’ The man’s voice trailed away, as though suddenly aware that he was talking too much.
    ‘The Ameer? Is that his name? Who is he?’
    ‘There you go again, with your questions!’ the man retorted brusquely, his tone dissuading Tanaz from asking any more questions.
    T hree grim days later, Tanaz was coming out of the hospital room in the morning after checking on the still weak, but now sporadically conscious Iqbal when three men emerged from a hut across the compound, about fifty feet away. Although all three were dressed alike, the one in the centre caught her attention immediately.
    Tall and built like a Patton tank, the man had a long, angular scar running across the right cheek of his gaunt face and a strange glow in his eyes. A chill ran down Tanaz’s spine as their eyes met. She looked away hastily and bowing her head, scurried away as she had seen the one or two other women in the compound do.
    Almost simultaneously, a posse of men erupted from the huts around and began to make their way towards the mini-convoy of vehicles that had brought Tanaz and Iqbal here. The man she now knew as the