A teacher stormed into the office of Sheikh Abdul Haadi. Sheikh sat on his table with his head down. He looked up. His eyes testified that he had constantly been crying and praying. He wanted to stand but lacked the strength. His eyes begged the teacher to give him some good news. The teacher came closer and crouched beside him. He leaned closer to him and held his hand with both his hands.
"Daud has returned", the teacher told Sheikh. It took him moments to realize what that meant. He asked the teacher to bring him in his office. The teacher left the room in a hurry. Sheikh tried to compose himself trying not to make the young student worry too much about his health. Minutes later, Daud arrived in the office. He was soon to be eighteen, stood at five feet eight inches and wore a black tee-shirt depicting some heavy metal band playing on a stage. Sheikh understood that he was wearing whatever he had found at the airport. Sheikh had failed to suppress his deteriorating health as the boy rushed to him as soon as he laid his eyes on him. "Are you alright, Sheikh Sahib?", he asked as he ran towards him. He practically sat on the floor in respect. Sheikh comforted him and told him that he was alright. He asked Daud about his escape and health, to which he thanked God for the window he had been provided. He had suffered only minor scrapes from running recklessly through the trees and bushes in the dark, and few blisters from the ragged boat. The wounds were enough to ruin his white kurta, hence the Metallica tee-shirt. Sheikh asked him about the rest of the group. He told him that they were also doing fine. They had been dropped at their homes directly from the airport by the teacher who received them. He also told Sheikh that he was told by the staff of the mosque that Preacher Soleiman had not yet returned. In return Daud had some questions that he desperately needed answered as well.
"If you don't mind me asking Sheikh Sahib, how did we manage a flight from Africa and how did they know to expect us?", he asked calmly. They had barely crossed into the neighboring country and a pickup truck had welcomed them, the driver of which had provided enough evidence to prove to them that he had been in touch with the organization. The driver of the truck was an aged guy in his fifties yet he respected them as if they were older than him. The truck had driven them to the nearest airfield which had also seemed to expect them. A smaller variant of airbus passenger airplane was already on the starting point to begin taxiing when they had arrived. They were sent off by the driver but he stood there to see with his own eyes that the job was done. The group entered the plane and only a handful of other seat seats were occupied. The plane had taken off without any undue delay. Since the boarding of that plane, everything else was just routine connecting air travel. They had been received by the most senior and revered teacher of the organization at the airport in Karachi.
Sheikh Abdul Haadi smiled as if after a thousand years. "The only worldly gain this line of work can offer to its honest serviceman, is the respect. I have had dozens of batches of clueless children in that part of the world who have grown up to be quite powerful men of authority", he responded with a tired smile. "I had found out that the best student from one of my recent batches had become an officer in civil aviation and the man who received you in his truck had been my student almost three decades ago", he continued.
There was a long silence in the room. After deliberating for a while, after every hint of happiness had abandoned him, Sheikh Abdul Haadi softly spoke without seeing Daud in his eyes, "Your teacher, Soleiman, what of him?"
Daud had expected the question. He explained how many people in the village were positively influenced by the preacher and few had even converted. He told Sheikh that the preacher also had a significant number of well-wishers among those who wanted to hurt him. He said, "We were warned by one of the converts from the villagers, a young boy…"
"Bilal?", Sheikh interjected.
"…named Bilal", Daud slowly finished while carefully eyeing his teacher. He was taken off-guard by Sheikh's knowledge of their convert half the globe away.
"How?", Daud hesitantly asked.
"The fact that Soleiman was given a fighting chance at survival by God, was conveyed to me by Bilal. Poor fella risked his own life trying to save us and our people", Sheikh muttered.
Silence was dominant in the room again. And again, Sheikh was the one to break it. "Take a leave and stay home for a week or two. Have some rest, you have earned it", he said. Daud reluctantly agreed and left. Sheikh was now alone in the office. He greatly cared for Daud and the other students but not every one of the students were handpicked or promised to be taken care of by him. Every time he thought Soleiman, he had a flashback of his recently deceased mother, respectfully asking him to take care of her son. He was lost in his thoughts when he realized that he had a truck driver and a civil aviation officer to thank on the phone.