He has often wished he had been alive back then, to be able to kill a Soviet soldier. But, he reminds himself on those occasions, I am alive now and able to kill Americans, infidels all.
The shirt is still in his hands. It’s just the front panel really, a rag black with blood, the sleeves ripped away, most of the back too, the collar hanging off. Throwing it sideways into a corner he moves towards the three steps that lead out of this room. They are made of rough wooden planks and each board had tried to make a different noise underfoot when he came in. He steps out without making a sound to find James Palantine and three other Americans looking at him. One of the Kalashnikovs is his. He had written onto its strap the verse from the Koran which lavishes praise on iron, the metal of swords and warfare.
*
The cloud is thickening above David as though someone wishes to hinder his progress by hiding his surroundings from him, by cancelling the meagre light from the thin moon. There’s barely a landmark for him as he drives towards Usha, the path firing a spray of pebbles at the car. Cloud cover and fog banks are to be some of the weapons the United States plans to use in the wars of the future, a summoning of hailstorms and lightning strikes against the enemy on the ground, the owning of the weather. Monsoon clouds above Laos and Cambodia were drenched with chemicals during the Vietnam War in order to prolong the rainy season, rendering Vietcong supply lines impassable.
He parks the car some way before Gul Rasool’s house and gets out and stands looking at the building from a distance. Those guarding it will make themselves known any moment. He can feel the weight of their eyes on him.
Who has her? Dunia told Lara that a man had come forward two days ago to claim to the people of Usha that she had once tried to seduce him. And yet it had been she who had rebuffed him after he, a toymaker, had attempted to gain her love with a doll he had sold her, a figure moulded from clay in which he had added his semen.
He walks along the high wall, towards the door behind which a light burns, showing through chinks, and he shouts out his name when he is told to halt.
‘I am here to see James,’ he tells the American man in the group that has gathered before him.
‘That’s far enough. He called you?’ This young man was at the house during the day, pulling down books while standing on a bridge of rope.
David moves towards that door, taking the others with him, their weapons drawn. He pushes at the door but it won’t yield so he slams into it with his shoulder.
‘Wait. I am getting James on the phone for you.’
But David is already through the door.
Casa is on his back on the floor in the centre of the room, his legs being held by an Afghan man, his chest pinned down by the knees of an American who also grips his hands. Another American, beside Casa’s head, is holding a blowtorch, its blue jet directed into Casa’s left eye. This young man straightens up on seeing David, and just then James comes in through a door on the far side of the room. Casa’s mouth is open in a twisted soundless scream, that eye erupting black blood. The boy with the blowtorch stands up with a glance towards James, the blue fang-like flame briefly touching Casa’s hair so that a patch of it catches fire with a crackle. It goes out by itself, reduced to wandering scarlet points. The smoke rising threadily into the air.
And now suddenly the other two have released Casa, and Casa rises, covering with one hand the absent eye, but he cannot stand up and, lurching sideways, hits a wall after three faltering steps.
James, the features perfectly composed after the briefest of initial frowns, walks towards David and stands facing him.
The blowtorch, still on, would explode were David to fire a bullet into it.
No words from anyone until David says, ‘Tell them not to go near him.’
‘Put the gun away, David.’
‘Did you fucking hear me?’ His voice like a canine’s bark.
Casa is bowed on the floor, as he has seen him many times during prayers, but this is pain and a groan is now coming from him. There is a short length of rope tied to one of his ankles.
James, without turning around, flicks his head to the right and the men move to that side of the room. His jaw muscles working. Holding David’s gaze he says, ‘He confessed he is with Nabi Khan.’
‘Bring that thing near me and I’ll confess to that.’
‘No, you wouldn’t, and neither would I. And he came up with Nabi Khan’s name by himself. We didn’t suggest it.’ He takes a step towards David. ‘He can bring us to Nabi Khan — and Khan will tell you where your son is. Think about it.’
‘You think you are going to get away with this.’
‘He told us the exact details of the raid that was promised in the Night Letter. The exact date. It’s next week — next Thursday. He said Nabi Khan wants to take his time with the attack, that he had said, “We mustn’t rush history.”’
‘James, are you listening to me? I am going to have you all arrested for this.’
‘Gul Rasool is in the government,’ one of the Americans says.
‘He’s not in the United States government.’ He feels faint as though someone has decanted a pitcher of blood from his body.
‘He’s in the government the US installed here,’ says the Afghan who’d been holding Casa.
James raises a hand to silence his companions. ‘I did what needed to be done, David. These people have been trained in how to survive interrogation techniques. For some of them true jihad starts at capture. So we have to be extreme, go beyond their trained endurance. I am just searching for our country’s enemies, David. It’s nothing personal against this man.’
‘Nothing personal? You are holding a flame to his eye.’
‘It’s not between him and me. It’s between them and us.’
They don’t need to watch jihadi DVDs to become radicalised: they’ll just watch the evening news on the TV — with things like these being reported.
‘And when I say us I include the majority of the Afghanistanis, who want to get shot of sons of bitches like these. I include the majority of the world, not just Americans.’
‘Have you any idea how much damage you have done us by your actions here tonight?’