“Welcome,” he said and motioned for Nazir to sit in one of the expensive leather chairs.

“Something to drink, Nazir?”

Nazir shook his head.

“You don’t mind if I do?”

Nazir shook his head again.

Pashtar plopped ice into a tumbler and poured himself a healthy shot of vodka.

“This doesn’t offend you, does it?”

Nazir just looked at him.

“Good,” Pashtar said as he plopped into one of the chairs.

There was puffiness about Pashtar’s face, and also stone-cold hardness. His eyes were dark orbs—not what eyes should be—mirrors that reflected light out from the soul. There was no light reflected here. It reminded Nazir of his teachers before Hashim. Their dark, impenetrable gaze compelled attention and instilled fear. That training Nazir knew would hold him in good stead as he maneuvered through these treacherous waters.

“Mariam tells me you want to talk with the imam,” Pashtar said, staring at him.

“Yes.”

“You may be able to persuade a young, vulnerable woman with your youth and charm,” Pashtar’s words were ominous “but with Hashim’s surrender and your connection to him, why should I trust you at all?”

“Because there was no surrender.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was a ploy by the FBI.”

“And how do you know this?”

“I know where Hashim is hiding.”

“Hiding?”

“Yes. He knows you all believe he was a traitor. That’s what they want you to believe.”

“Why?”

“There’s already a fatwa on him. His own people will do what the CIA and FBI never could. That’s their plan.”

Nazir waited, calm in the deadly consequence of this falling on deaf ears.

Pashtar slammed his drink on the table next to him and pushed his large body out of the chair.

“Who else knows of this?”

“You’re the first.”

“And to what do I owe the honor?”

“I need your help. I’m placing my life in your hands. It’s your trust I need before I can let anyone else know.”

Pashtar’s need for acknowledgment and inclusion was common knowledge among the cells. It was the one thing that gave Nazir hope. He also knew that if he could get past this test there would be a chance he could succeed with the imam.

“So, his surrender was a lie?”

“Yes. He was captured. And escaped. The rest is the lie.”

Nazir’s heart pumped in the absence of a response.

Pashtar’s laughter filled the room.

The silence that followed was deadly.

“How do I know I can trust you, and this story?”

“Test me.”

Pashtar smiled. Arms at his side. He had the attitude of a gunslinger about to duel. His eyes fixed on Nazir, who knew Pashtar could kill him in an instant.

Pashtar took out a mobile from his pants pocket and made a call that was answered on the first ring.

“Bring him around back,” Pashtar said, and ended the call.