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Craig Handler, 18 September 2012

 

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Future Soldier

0647 Zulu, 091612 - Peshawar, Pakistan, Bazar-e-Kalan

To Mahbub ul Haq, the morning had started just like any other. It was not even 7:00 a.m. yet, but the hot Pakistani air was already stifling. He was finishing his tea, while reading another article about his handiwork which had led to the deaths of nine American State Department personnel in Yemen last week. Truth be told, he had not intended to kill any high ranking U.S. diplomats, but the unwitting act had catapulted him to fame and notoriety within the slums of the old town section of Peshawar. One day, he was an obscure Pakistani arms dealer catering to small terrorist groups, and the next, he was known throughout the Muslim world as a hero of Islam. He had struck a blow for those of his neighborhood, his city and his country; for his people! Now, he was eager to begin plotting his next strike from the safety of his well protected flat.

Mahub ul Haq put his newspaper down on the kitchen table and glanced at his watch. In minutes, it would be time for SHurwwq morning prayer. He rose from his chair and headed towards the balcony for one last cigarette before prayer, his sajjada prayer rug was already in place so he could face towards Mecca. As he approached the balcony terrace, Mahub ul Haq had no way of knowing that his security team was already dead and that within hours, he would be bound, gagged and on a helicopter heading towards a dark basement of a CIA safehouse in some forgotten block of Rawalpindi. His people would never see or hear from him again. It was as if he had been taken in the night by Ghosts...

 

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