Jala's POV
Cold wind billowed at my hair and cloak as we prepared to leave, exposing my scantily clad body underneath. The helicopter was now standing in front of the porch where men and one other woman besides me, were making their way into it alongside their belongings for the journey. Her attire contrasted mine greatly; the only thing being similar between us was the color. My heart began to thud against my ribcage, as my feet and hands went numb from the cold or fear of what is to come, I do not know.
"The men will be there to protect you aside, and the spies of the army are already informed of your coming," Ali tells me, and despite his composed tone, I could sense apprehension and guilt behind his calm demeanor. The promise to my brother must be making his conscience weary. "You just need to collect information from his room. Do not hesitate to kill if you sense any danger. I doubt the lunatic will be of any importance to the Intelligence."
"Thank you," I said, pulling him into an embrace. He is taken aback but returns it nonetheless.
"For what?"
"For believing in me," He doesn't know how much that means to me, being constantly undermined all my life.
"You deserve it."
Salman heads over to me and inserts something in my ear. "All the men are equipped with an earpiece, and it is essential that you have it too. You all will be connected by this device, and I will be contacting you soon after I reach the border. All you need to do is tell one of the men once you have retrieved the information and the next real troop will be there."
"Sounds like you're worried about me," I tease him.
"You flatter yourself too much," He says, but can't stop the grin forming on his face. "Take care of yourself, Jala."
"You too," I smile back. With a parting embrace from Demir Chacha, a gesture that I longed to do with my father when I was a child but knew better once I grew up. To stay silent in his presence and surrendering to his orders without input of my own will. I looked up from the soft chest of my mentor and saw care in his eyes, another emotion that I longed to see from my father. "May God protect you."
I pulled my cloak over the large slit of my black sheer skirt as I climbed onto the helicopter, its rotor blades slowly turning and gaining speed. One of the men lends me a hand, helping me into a seat as we lift into the air. My first adventure could very well be my last. I try to divert my attention by looking around the men that have accompanied me in this mission.
The base had been established shortly after the death of General Zia Ul Haq, our sixth president after martial law was declared in 1977. Due to the unmonitored influx of Afghan refugees that occurred because of the US-Afghan war, we paid the price for someone else's war. Terrorism rose in our lands, taking the lives of soldiers and civilians alike, our economy suffered greatly with the sanctions different nations imposed on us, not to mention the isolation we faced at the hands of the international community labeling us as terrorists. Thankfully, the situation was much more under our control now, with the completion of operation Zarb e Azb and much of the bases had been destroyed, the plague now stemmed and Pakistan was now a rising nation, home to the second biggest youth population on earth. The fact that we were on a journey to destroy yet another, was proof enough that we were still reaping the fruits of the seeds that were sown yesterday.
I watched the woman with apprehension as she sat quietly staring out the window, completely oblivious to our presence. "Who is she?" I ask Hamza, the man who helped me earlier. "A former ISIS warrior," He replies. "She's one of us now." "How can you be so sure?"
"She was seeking refuge with our boss in Egypt. She said she had enough of killing people and wanted to start over. It was a funny thing to say to a mafia lord, but he gave her a new purpose. Vengeance. She retaliated for some time, but was afterwards convinced that their survival meant further loss of live, hence she joined us in our mission."
She now looked at me and nodded in my direction, acknowledging me, and I returned the gesture. The helicopter now began it's descend preparing for landing, telling me that our destination was near. This valley was a stark contrast to the picturesque valley Ali's mansion overlooked, with the mountains being devoid of vegetation, their precipice sharp and piercing much like the cold, dry air that attacks us through the small openings in the helicopter.
"Won't they get suspicious if we arrive in a air ride, as we need a license from the authorities to accomplish this?" I ask, as my nerves began to dawn on me at the close proximity of our enemy.
"Don't worry," Hamza says smiling, giving my knee a reassuring pat as he senses my apprehension. "We've got it all planned out."
Infiltration, compilation, attack, victory.
We'll be out of this hell hole in no time.
"By the way does your boss have a name?"
"Mr. Khan."
Before I can ask more about Mr. Khan, the helicopter hits the rocky ground and the men began moving out. The wind swept at my cloak, making it harder for me to cover up while I can, until I am presented in front of the terrorist's leader as a gift from Mr. Khan. We walk into the raw, stony structure, before we are stopped by a man carrying a 3-foot military gun across his torso.
"What business do you have here?" he asks in a gruff voice.
"We carry gifts from Mr. Khan," Hamza replies, gesturing to me and the crates of weapons within the hands of men. I keep my head bowed low, the hood of the cloak covering half my face as we stand on the edge of the enemy's lair. He presses a finger to his ear, assuming he has one of those devices Salman lent me earlier as he speaks fluently in Pashto, probably verifying the information we just provided. He moves out of the way allowing us entry into the base. The interior is rough but sturdy, as we walk through stone corridors with one of the men as our guide, leading us to a chamber with scarce amount of daylight, enough to make out faces within the darks, flowing through a small opening in one of the walls. Ali's men walk ahead of me, surrounding me in a protective circle, reassuring me that I'm not alone and not yet to be revealed.
A man sitting on a charpoy lights a cigarette, the flames flicker on his face for just a second before they dim to a smolder on its end. The men take a seat on the several plastic chairs that are aligned on both sides of the charpoy, and those that can't find a seat, sit on the floor. I sit on the floor regardless, in the corner of the room camouflaging myself in the darkness, as I'm not willing to be shown before a formal introduction.
"Our boss has sent some presents for you, as a token of friendship," Hamza addresses the man, gesturing to the boxes we brought as well as beckoning me forward. He inhales deeply the resulting smoke from his cigarette, before taking a sip of his wine that is placed on a tray beside him. I walk towards him, my steps slow and hesitant as I place myself at his feet. I remove my cloak, exposing my scantily clad figure while keeping my head bowed, as I speak to him.
"I am yours to command, Master."
Ali's POV
Coordinating with the army would have proved much more of a hassle, if it hadn't been for Mr. Khan. We were sitting in the private meeting room of Colonel Ahmed, where the chief of Army Staff would be taken into a conference call soon for the final verdict on our proposal.
"Our plan is simple," I tell the Colonel. "My men and along with a very special spy have already infiltrated the base. Once they get a hold of the information, they will be giving us a call and we'll be ready for attack. We have already coordinated with your group of spies with your consultation, and our victory will be made easy with the help of the national army."
"You've got an army of men with enough supplies on your hand that you could demolish the base on your own," he says referring to the file placed in front of him holding the given data of what Mr. Khan has provided us. "Why ask for our help?"
"For the sake of our anonymity. Such an attack will not go unnoticed by the media or the surrounding community. We want to our identities to remain private."
"You don't want to get accredited for such a huge national achievement? Why?"
"We have our reasons."
"It is obvious that this offer isn't for free. What is the price?"
"A promise," I pass another file in front of him, holding our contract. "A favour for favour, you could say. You will be informed about it in due time." It was evident they needed our help, so might as well cash it. "Also, all the received information will be shared. Including the information retracted from the leader that will potentially lead us their real boss."
"Let me guess. The promise has something to do with their real boss?" he says, skimming his eyes over the agreement.
"So do we have a deal or not?" I ask impatiently.
"That remains to be seen," He looks way too relaxed for my liking. "Greetings, General."
The screen on the flickers on, as the face of our Chief of Army Staff is projected on the wall in back of the room.
"I have just had a lively conversation with Mr. Khan, and the arrangements made by him seem to suit our situation. He never fails to seize an opportunity to make his legacy known whether on field or off field." Well, that's Mr. Khan for you. "Congratulations, Mr. Ali. We have a deal."
I and the Colonel share a handshake, and I mouth him a silent thank you. "Pleasure doing business with you." He says with a professional smile before I make way to leave the room.