Free Afghan Bound by Henry Morgan Page B

through the bus, the missing windows also made it easier for char-sellers to pass up cups of tea whenever they stopped – which was frequently. On the road between Jalpuri and Karachi David was offered everything from tea, to marijuana, to young girls. He refrained from all bar the tea. The money he made from the sale of the Russian motorcycle was diminishing with alarming speed, and he would need some for a hotel when he arrived – if he arrived.
    About twenty miles north of Karachi, on a rough and bumpy road with lush vegetation on both sides, the bus came to a sudden and grinding halt. David was unperturbed until the driver turned in his seat and shouted very loudly in Urdu, sending the bus into sudden pandemonium. A split second later the door of the bus was flung open and shots rang out. Panic was replaced with a strange calm as everyone ducked back into their seats to await instructions from the two men who had climbed onboard. They brandished guns that David had become all too familiar with these past weeks – they were AK47’s. The calm was broken as the men barked their orders and people began leaving their seats, some receiving the butt of a rifle to the side of the head for no reason other than they had not moved fast enough for the bandits’ liking. As if recent events had desensitised him, David was able to remain if not relaxed, then quite self-possessed. He noticed a third bandit was lining the passengers up on the roadside and signalling for them to put their arms above their heads. The first man who had entered the vehicle was now making his way along the bus shouting at anybody left to join the others, while his friend searched frantically in their belongings for any valuables. As he neared, David felt his stomach knot with fear. Recognition was slow in coming to the gunman. He shouted several times at David and raised his gun in readiness to strike, before realising he was a foreigner. He called to his partner and signalled quite clearly that David was to open his bag. He wisely did as he was told. The two men looked into the small holdall, but saw nothing but socks and some food that Yasmin’s mother had kindly packed for the journey. One of the men dipped into the bag, and David thought his gold was about to change ownership. The smile on the bandit’s face appeared to confirm David’s fears, but when his hand lifted from the bag it held not the gold but a chapatti. The bandit took a large bite and signalled for David to empty his pockets. Both gunmen grinned broadly as David revealed over four hundred rupees. They snatched the money from him and finished emptying the bus, leaving him in his seat. He didn’t know why they left him there, but liked to think it was preferential treatment for being a foreigner.
    Once the terrified passengers had left the vehicle and lined up as ordered, two bandits went amongst them while the third covered them with his gun. They took everything the passengers had, most of which was worthless. In fact the money they had taken from David alone was more than they would accrue from the rest put together. Certainly the young woman who decided to make a run for it had little to offer in the way of financial assets. What she did have, however, was a very pretty face and a perfectly formed body. Despite her mother’s warning screams she began her run. Suddenly the atmosphere changed. One of the bandits made after her while the other two cheered and encouraged. The girl had little chance, and was caught almost immediately. She put up a surprisingly spirited fight as she was dragged, screaming and crying, in front of the other passengers. Her mother ran forward, pleading with the men to let her go. During the struggle clothes were torn and the daughter’s breasts fell into view. The mother protested all the more, and was silenced by the butt of a gun to the head. A few male passengers inched forward as if contemplating a rescue attempt, but