Page 46 of Deadly Betrayal

Khalid narrowed his eyes and had to wonder ifmarrying Azita was worth the sacrifice of having to align himselfwith this slug. “You are not being helpful.”

“All I’m saying is that he might have gone tothe German base if he worked with the ISAF. The one here”—hepointed to the camp in front of them—“is almost completely shutdown.”

Yes, that made sense. Khalid should havethought of it himself. The team that had been involved in theweapons trade two years ago had been operating under the ISAFbanner. The little dung beetle might prove useful after all.

“What about Khan Tariq?” Shahram asked.

“What about him?”

“Won’t he be angry if Laila doesn’t marryhim?”

Khalid chuckled. “Angry doesn’t begin todescribe it. If he hears about this attempt Azita is making toprevent the wedding, he will go after her, and he will killeveryone involved.”

In the pale moonlight, Shahram’s featuresturned the dull white of exposed bone. “That could start aninternational incident!”

“Now do you comprehend the severity of ourpredicament?”

Still visibly shaken, Shahram nodded. “Wemust find Azita.”

“What else can you tell me about this man,this American?”

Shahram scratched his head, then righted hispakol. “He did not come to Afghanistan alone. He refused totell me who his companions were, except to say they were hiscover.”

Now that was an interesting tidbit. Perhapsthe American’s “cover” was the real reason they’d taken the longernorthern route to Fayzabad. Khalid needed information, and heneeded it now. He put the SUV in gear and headed toward the centerof Kunduz.

“Where are we going?” Shahram anxiouslyscanned the area.

If the situation weren’t so dire, Khalidmight almost have found the man amusing. “I’m hungry” was all he’dvolunteer.

Fifteen minutes later, Khalid parked in frontof a brightly lit, bustling restaurant. Reza was doing well forhimself. “Let’s go.” He stepped down from the car and waited forShahram to join him before entering the building.

Reza greeted them at the door.“Befarmaeed, Agha Khalid. How are you? How is your family?Your children?”

Khalid returned the man’s embrace andgreeting before casually introducing Shahram as his futurebrother-in-law.

“Congratulations! How many is this now?” Rezaasked, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Three.” Khalid didn’t bother to keep thewide smile off his face or the hint of pride from his voice. To menlike him and Reza, men who had not been tainted by Western notionsof monogamy, having three or four wives was an indication of meansand status. “Agha Reza and I were in university together,” heexplained to Shahram. Years later, Reza had been the one to warnhim of the Taliban’s imminent attack on Kabul in early 1995.Following Reza’s advice, Faroukh and Khalid had managed to gettheir families out of the city in time to avoid the worst of thebombings.

A clean, well-dressed waiter in his earlytwenties led them to a table and took their order. Shortly after,Reza joined them, bringing a tray of tea and a plate of bread,onions, and parsley. Conversation flowed easily as Reza caughtKhalid up on the local news, including the fact that a big Americanmovie star would be visiting Camp Kunduz, the large German-run ISAFbase, the following day. The star had been in-country since Sundayand would be making his third appearance tomorrow. Everyone whocould was trying to get onto the base to see him. Of course,security was tight and very few would be allowed. Instead, localswere planning to set up a large bazaar right outside the gate. Thiscaught Khalid’s attention.

Feigning a lack of interest, he chuckled.“Why do people want to see an actor? Americans are theShatan-eBozorg,as our Iranian friends would say.”

“Big Satan or not, Nic Lamoureux’s movies arevery good. I wouldn’t mind meeting the man myself.”

“Good luck then.”

“No luck needed.” Reza’s eyes sparkled. “Ihave reserved a stall at the bazaar. Reza’s Afghan Specialties willhave a prime spot near the gate. When the movie star arrives, Iwill be there.”

Shahram, who had remained quiet until thispoint, perked up, his eyes bouncing like those of a young boy beingoffered a treat. “Would you happen to need assistance, Agha Reza?”He was definitely starstruck, and once again Khalid had to wonderhow the man had survived to the age of twenty-six. He seemed tohave a distinct inability to focus on one particular goal.

“As a matter of fact, yes. There are rumorsthat the movie star is likely to approach the fence to visit withhis admirers. Apparently, he is known for mingling. Because ofthis, the organizers are expecting a large crowd.” Reza steepledhis fingers beneath his chin, his lips quirking in the corner. “Ofcourse, I would not dream of insulting my friend by bringing hissoon-to-be brother-in-law into the realm of Satan.”

Khalid gritted his teeth. Reza was alwayspoking fun at him, but indulging his friend was a small price topay after all Reza had done—and would do—for him. Reza’s politicalconnections with the Northern Alliance would be very beneficial inthe next election. As it was, Reza had been the one to introduceKhalid to Tariq as well as several other warlords and triballeaders in the northern provinces. So in a sense, it was thanks toReza that Khalid now owned several thousand hectares of land, allof which were key sources of gold, silver, and lithium, as well asseveral potential petroleum wells right here in Kunduzprovince.

“Agha Shahram’s happiness is important tome,” Khalid said, barely managing not to gag. He hated groveling,and that he could blame this on Shahram helped ease the injustice alittle. “If you’d allow him to be of assistance at the bazaar, Iwould be indebted to you, Agha Reza.”

“Would you like to come along?” Reza asked.His smile seemed genuine, but his eyes danced with mischief.