The Ambassador's Offer, page 18
“Oh, don’t worry. He would have found a way. He has his contacts in Karachi, maybe through the World Bank, maybe through the other embassies, I don’t really know, and I don’t care. Plus, he knows Selim. Selim even thinks he is a friend, but whatever…”
“You believe Selim would have helped to denounce Yusuff to the police?” Brigitta interrupted.
“No, no, I don’t think so. Selim would never hurt Yusuff—he wouldn’t dare—but I am sure he told Nielssen that Yusuff is a liberal-minded student fighting against the military regime. This, with a little exaggeration here or there, would be enough to put a young student into prison. Don’t forget, Brigitta, this is Pakistan, not Austria.”
“So let’s get back to that,” the ambassador chimed in again, “What exactly did Nielssen expect you to do? What did he want?”
“He was only interested in the documents about the bidding process. The bidding companies, their offers, technical details. He wanted the American-British consortium to win; that much was clear from the start.”
“So he knew that they had made a proposal?”
“Obviously, yes,” Amira answered, studying the ambassador’s serious face. It seemed to relieve her to talk about everything, particularly about Nielssen and his doings. She was much more relaxed than in the beginning of their conversation.
“And?” the ambassador pressed on. “Is there more you know?”
“Oh, just that they must have made a deal. He offered them to help win the tender, and in exchange for that, they were going to pay him one million dollars.”
Brigitta moaned. “One million. Phew!”
“Okay, now we’re getting there.” The ambassador scratched his chin. “But we need to prove it, which will be much more difficult.” He stood up and walked over to the window, thinking.
“Amira, do you believe Nielssen provided false information to the police about the student protest? Is this the reason why they got imprisoned?”
Was Yusuff just a pawn in the game of interests? Did his arrest, and the arrest of his friends and Dr. Rahim, have nothing to do with the student revolt?
“I really don’t know, Brigitta. I also have no idea if he is responsible for Stefanie’s disappearance. Maybe he was involved; maybe he paid her to keep quiet—who knows?” Amira sounded bitter.
“How did he even know about Stefanie?” The ambassador had returned to the table.
“Sorry, I can’t help you here. I assume from Leitner. Yet what do we do now? Didn’t you promise, Dr. Hartlmayr, to help Yusuff to get out of prison? You owe me that!”
“Yes, I stand by my promises. I am very well connected, not only with embassy people. But this is a very delicate matter, and I can—at least officially—not get involved.”
“What do you mean? You won’t help me after all?” Amira’s voice sounded sharp, and Brigitta noticed people again staring at them.
“Yusuff might be offered political asylum in a different country, but this is something I have to figure out first. You know, we are moving on dangerous ground here. I must know nothing about your ideas to help him escape; that’s absolutely mandatory. I could not only lose my job; it could also be disastrous for the detainees. And…this has to be absolutely clear: Miss Kapusta cannot, by any means, be part of your scheme!” He pointed at Brigitta. “Do you understand?”
Brigitta nodded. She had no idea where this was going.
“Dr. Hartlmayr, there’s got to be a way. The government would never rehabilitate my son, nor the others. And even if there was a trial sometime, which I don’t believe, he would not survive in jail.” Amira moaned loudly.
“What I can do is help find a country which grants political asylum and get the necessary documents ready. Everything else has to be done by you, and only you and your family.” Again he scrutinized Brigitta. A deep wrinkle had formed on his forehead.
“I am already risking a lot, but Nielssen must be punished for his wrongdoings, and the treaty must be saved by all means!”
Yusuff would have to flee, illegally, leaving his beloved country be- hind. It would break him, and there was nothing Brigitta could do. Her heart tightened. She wished she could hold him in her arms right now, tell him that everything would be fine. But that was naïve. It wouldn’t be. No matter where he would have to go, he would always be a fugitive.
From the adjacent nightclub, the sounds of a saxophone drifted over, and a jazz singer with a smoky voice rehearsed the song “I Thought about You” by Billie Holiday.
“Are you okay, Brigitta?” Amira asked, glancing at her. “I know, this is difficult for you, too. I know, you love him, but this is the only way to save him.”
She reached her hand across the table and gently stroked Brigitta’s cheek. “Sometimes I wish I had my father back, as uncompromising as he could be. He would help me with his determination. But he’s not here to help, and we have to find a way.”
Brigitta nodded in despair. Had Walter been right from the beginning? Yusuff was not good for her? They were too different?
“I already have made a plan,” Amira suddenly burst out, and both the ambassador and Brigitta looked at her quizzically.
“I may not be able to obtain a visa, but I know how we could orchestrate an escape from prison.”
“Oh, I understand,” the ambassador said brusquely. “This is something I don’t want to know about. Neither should Miss Kapusta, for her own sake. Please excuse me for a moment, ladies; I need to make a few phone calls.”
The ambassador walked away, not without looking admonishingly at Brigitta.
“Amira, you have to understand. He risks his job, and he is already doing a lot to support you. I believe he really wants to punish Nielssen, and, on top of that, he is very disappointed that Leitner betrayed him. They’ve known each other for over twenty years.”
“Yes, I can imagine, but Leitner got caught up in the fever, the horse racing fever. I’ve observed it in many people. It’s an addiction. Whether you’re a horse fan or not, a gallop race is incredibly exciting. The energy, the swirling dust of the racetrack—it’s truly contagious!”
Brigitta had always regarded Leitner as a man without passions, aside from his profession, of course.
“Well,” she said, “that seems to have broken his neck now.”
CHAPTER 32:
The Escape Plan
When the ambassador returned, something or someone had obviously changed his opinion, because he asked, “What do you know about the prison in Karachi?”
After a brief exchange of glances, he took a cigarette from the silver case on the small table, lit it, and took a deep drag.
Brigitta had never seen the ambassador smoke, although everyone around her seemed to do it constantly. Wherever she went, there was always a heavy cloud of smoke in the air.
Brigitta knew her boss had been training for his next expedition and planned to embark on a journey to the Karakoram Mountains with a team of experienced mountaineers next spring. Conquering Nanga Parbat, the “naked mountain,” was his lifelong dream. Smoking was definitely not part of his fitness routine.
“Karachi Jail is like a large fortress,” Amira replied. “It is located in the north of the city and has different sections, and as far as I know, large outdoor areas which can be easily observed from the watchtowers.” She paused, then continued, “I believe the section for political prisoners is the least secure. After all, they are not usually violent criminals.”
Images of Yusuff came to Brigitta’s mind once again. Yusuff in a prison cell, threatened by the guards, beaten, and…
“We need to find out who allowed him to make that phone call. Who was that guard? Didn’t Yusuff mention on the phone that he was corrupt?” The ambassador gave Brigitta a questioning look.
“Yes,” Brigitta nodded. “He said only Amira could help. And that they needed money for the guards.”
“The prison is about twenty minutes away from the city center, on University Road. But even if we manage to free him, Rahim, and the others, what then?” Amira’s eyes were shadowed.
“As I mentioned before,” the ambassador said, “there is no future for them here in Pakistan, at least not in the current political situation.”
Amira agreed. “By when can you arrange the travel documents, Mr. Ambassador?”
“It will take at least a few days, no faster than that. But documents alone won’t be enough. They also need to be smuggled across the border.”
“The police will surely guard the airport as soon as their escape from the prison becomes known. The national borders will be heavily monitored,” Amira remarked. “I need to talk to my family as soon as possible; maybe tomorrow I can go see them. There will be a family council. Granting nanawatai is one of the highest principles in Pashtunwali. No Pashtun in this world would ever turn away a refugee seeking shelter.”
“Mrs. Khan, I must stay out of Pakistan’s internal affairs. That could lead to my expulsion, and I don’t want to repeat myself, but no employee of a foreign embassy can get involved here! Therefore, Brigitta, you must promise me to stay out of this; otherwise I can’t help your friend.”
Since when did the ambassador call her by her first name?
“She will,” Amira said, without waiting for Brigitta’s response. “This is solely my responsibility, and I don’t want more people to get in danger. Yusuff is my son, and I would do anything to save him. I can’t lose him again.”
“Brigitta,” the ambassador said again, “can I rely on you?”
“I’m supposed to pretend like it doesn’t concern me?”
“No, you don’t have to, but you have to be reasonable now. You can’t be part of this operation! Amira and her family are in charge here, speaking of which”—the ambassador turned to Amira once again—“how do you get to Yusuff? Don’t you need to establish contact with him? Oh, my,” he moaned, I should really stay out of this.”
“Perhaps my husband can establish a contact,” Amira said. “In Pakistan, you can buy anything with money.”
“Not just in Pakistan,” the ambassador said, standing up and signaling the waiter to bring the bill. He was done here, Brigitta knew; he was already in too deep.
After settling the bill and saying their goodbyes, Brigitta and Dr. Hartlmayr returned to the embassy, and Amira went back home to speak with her husband. Brigitta wondered how Amira was going to persuade Selim to support her, but this woman had many secrets. She would surely find a way.
CHAPTER 33:
Kismet
The morning of October 22, the government officially announced through state television that the students were jointly responsible for the death of the police officer and that the regime would not rest until they were finally convicted.
“We already have four suspects in custody, and you can rest assured that we will soon confirm the guilty party or parties,” threatened General Ayub Khan’s spokesperson on television. “The Ayub Khan regime, ladies and gentlemen, will show no mercy to the rioters; you can be sure of that.”
Brigitta was terribly afraid for Yusuff, fearing for his life. She couldn’t think clearly and was a bundle of nerves. The only person who could still cheer her up was Walter, but he didn’t know any details, and Brigitta had promised the ambassador not to confide in him.
After the meeting at the Bristol, the ambassador had withdrawn, and Brigitta assumed he was working to protect the World Bank and the embassy from harm. He was constantly on the phone with Dr. Williams in Washington, DC, not commenting on these conversations. Amira had traveled to Rawalpindi, in the north of Pakistan, a day after, to speak with the head of her clan. She had confided in Selim and, together with her large family, was preparing the rescue operation, in which two of her cousins were supposed to help.
Tonight was the decisive night. Tonight, the four men were supposed to be freed from the prison in Karachi. Yusuff’s life, as well as the lives of his friends and his professor, were at stake. The government’s threats to identify the culprits and show no mercy did not bode well, and each additional day in prison could mean their end. Amira was very reserved with details, but Brigitta had at least learned from her that Selim Khan had managed to bribe the guards. Brigitta didn’t want to know how he had done it or why. She just wanted to see Yusuff again, even if it would be the last time.
The phone on her desk interrupted her thoughts, and when Brigitta hastily picked up the receiver, she heard Amira’s voice.
“Brigitta,” Amira said determinedly. “I believe in kismet, in fate. Do you? Before tonight, I have to visit Abdullah Sha Ghazi’s mausoleum, his shrine, to lay down flowers. I want to ask him for Yusuff’s rescue. Will you accompany me?” There was a pause. “I also have to tell you something that can’t be said over the phone. Please come with me; I do not want to be alone today. It’s not far from my house. There is a beautiful view of the sea from there.”
Brigitta agreed. She couldn’t think about anything else but Yusuff. How else would she survive the long, arduous hours until tonight? Besides, she absolutely had to know what Amira had done in the meantime. Amira had spoken to Selim and her family in the meantime; so much was clear, but what had they decided?
Since the conversation with Dr. Hartlmayr, Felix Leitner hadn’t shown up at the office, and the ambassador was tied up in meetings or on the phone. In addition to his regular job, he had to get hold of the documents for Yusuff, his friends, and the professor, while, at the same time, saving the complex negotiations. Also, he was working on his personal vendetta, deeply disappointed not only in Felix Leitner but also in the treacherous behavior of Dr. Nielssen. After all, Nielssen was the deputy chief of the World Bank, a huge international organization. The treaty was at risk due to the man’s greed and ruthlessness.
Brigitta had an idea. She couldn’t tell the ambassador that she was meeting with Amira, but she couldn’t just sit quietly in her chair either. Walter! He would help her. When she stuck her head into Walter’s office, the young attaché was delighted.
“Brigitta, how nice to see you. We haven’t seen each other enough lately. Are we going out tonight?”
When she didn’t answer right away, he scrutinized her more closely. “You look terrible. Have you heard anything from Yusuff? No? You’ll see—they will release him. They will prove that he had nothing to do with the stone-throwing.”
Walter knew nothing about Amira’s rescue plans or the ambassador’s intention to provide documents to the detainees, and Elif was not involved in any way either. Did Walter really believe that everything would be resolved? Or was he just trying to reassure her?
“Yes, I’m very worried. I cannot sleep, I cannot eat. Hopefully, there will be news soon,” she said, and went on, “Walter, I need to get out of here for an hour or two. Take a walk; I need some distance. Please…don’t tell the ambassador. He won’t notice; he’s in a conference right now. You know…”
Walter frowned, but then his mouth turned into a grin. “Yes, yes, I know; you’re on another secret mission, and I’m not supposed to know anything, right?”
“Exactly,” she said, and couldn’t help but smile a little. Walter always managed to cheer her up. How she wished for the carefree times to return.
“Come on. Tell me—what is it? You know you can’t hide anything from me,” he said with the familiar twinkle in his eyes.
Yet a promise was a promise. So instead, she told him about the singer’s performance at the Bristol, and before he could ask more questions, she turned around and left the room.
“Take care of yourself, okay? And let’s go out again soon?” he called after her, but she was already heading toward the garden exit, where Amira’s chauffeur was waiting for her in the back alley.
Brigitta got in and greeted Amira, who sat in the back of the car; she took Brigitta’s hand as they drove off toward Clifton Beach. Brigitta knew the route well. She had taken it many times when going for walks on the beach or to Villa Khan. The most beautiful memory of the spot was her last picnic with Yusuff. That wonderful night, they had spread out the large cotton blanket, drunk champagne, and watched the camels, with their wide lower jaws, peacefully walking along the shore, children marveling between their humps. Was that really just a few weeks ago? It felt like an eternity.
“I know how you feel, Brigitta, believe me. I also have terrible fear for the future. I won’t see my son for a long time. That’s the deal with Selim.” Amira looked at her pitifully.
“What? He demands that from you?”
“Selim’s life is here. He has an important job, as you know. What I wanted to tell you is that Selim found out who the corrupt prison guard is. He offered a lot of money, enough money for the entire guard team. More than these people can earn in a year. I’m grateful to him, you know, as crazy as it may sound. Without him, Yusuff wouldn’t stand a chance!”
“And in return, you promised to stay here with him?”
“Yes. That’s the agreement. The only thing that matters to me is that Yusuff is freed and can start a new life somewhere else. He wouldn’t survive in prison, and someday, I just know it, I will see my son again.” Her voice sounded infinitely sad and determined at the same time.
When the chauffeur slowed down and stopped, she said, “We’re here. Up ahead, under the green-and-white dome, is the grave of Abdullah Sha Gazi, the patron saint of Karachi.” Amira took the flowers and sweets from the back seat of the car and got out. “Inshallah,” Brigitta heard her say.
Perhaps, with God’s help, everything would turn out fine after all, and Brigitta didn’t care which God it was.
CHAPTER 34:
The Chaukhandi Tombs
After returning from her meeting with Amira, Brigitta sat at her desk until evening, attending to phone duties. She was unable to focus on anything else; her nerves were too tense. In the evening, she bade farewell to Elif and Walter, saying she was terribly tired and just wanted to sleep. The two had no idea what was about to happen tonight.
