Rahima returned to the apartment fifteen minutes before ten. Fatima was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Nadir in her arms when the key slid into the lock and the door opened.

Rahima smiled, as she removed her coat.

“Sorry I’m late, Fatima. The road was blocked off for a convoy of military vehicles.”

Fatima stood up with Nadir in her arms. She kissed the little boy on the forehead and passed him to Rahima.

“I just fed him and mother ate about a half hour ago. I’ll see you in the morning. I need to hurry to make the 10 o’clock bus.”

Fatima fetched a bag from the floor. She opened the door and stepped outside.

“Goodnight, kiss Nadir goodnight for me,” she called back with an apprehensive smile.

Fatima closed the door and locked it behind her. She stepped off the porch and turned away from the street towards the back of the apartment complex. She took a few steps and turned onto a path leading to a closed door illuminated by a naked bulb. She opened the door, stepped inside the musty laundry room, and flipped on the light switch. She closed the door behind her.

Fatima fished the burqa out of her bag. She ducked her head inside and adjusted the headpiece so she could see through the silk mesh. She discarded the bag in a trashcan, switched off the light, and shut the door behind her.

Fatima took a few steps towards the main path. The pitter-patter of footsteps echoed from the distance and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She turned to retreat to the laundry room, but it was too late. The woman who lived next door stepped around the side of the building carrying a laundry basket.

"Oh, hello," the woman called out cheerfully with a curious expression on her face.

Fatima did not reply. She slid past the woman and headed up the main path towards the front of the building. She glanced down the street in one direction and then the other. The restricted view from inside the burqa made it difficult to see in the daytime. It was nearly impossible to get about in the darkness.

Fatima crossed to the opposite corner, carefully avoiding rocks and potholes, as she meandered along the path towards the bus stop. There was a man standing in the darkness smoking a cigarette outside the covered hut at the stop. The block was otherwise deserted. The man glanced towards her. He flicked the ash from his cigarette and looked up the road the other direction. Fatima sat on a bench and waited in silence.

Fatima hadn't worn a burqa in years. Like many other Pakistani women, she detested the stuffy and cumbersome traditional garment. A scarf was acceptable head cover in the area where she lived and worked. There were, however, large areas of Pakistan where any woman who eschewed the traditional Islamic dress ran the risk of public humiliation, or worse.

In short order the bus appeared over a rise in the distance. It squealed to a stop and the door opened with a loud gush. Fatima stepped up the stairs and glanced towards the front of the bus. There were five to ten people in the seats behind the driver. She peered through the mesh towards the rear. Mr. Advani was sitting near the back of the bus on the right side. He was reading a newspaper. He glanced towards Fatima over the top of the paper, but resumed his reading without acknowledging her.

Fatima scooted towards the back using the seatbacks for support. She caught a glimpse of the end of a blue canvas bag on the floor, as she slipped into the seat in front of Advani.

The bus pulled away from the stop and bumped along the road through the city for several kilometers. All of the markets and bazaars were deserted. Only an occasional restaurant was still open. The bus stopped a few times along the route. Finally, it turned onto the access road that led to the main hospital entrance and pulled into the circle outside the front door.

Two guards were stationed on either side of the front door. Unexpectedly, however, an ISI soldier was stationed at a table at the entrance. A woman in a nurse's uniform was standing nearby watching the guard sort through her belongings.

"Allah help me," Fatima muttered to herself.

Fatima's thoughts raced, as she glanced over her shoulder at Mr. Advani. He stared back with his jaw clinched without speaking. She bent over, pulled the bag from the floor, and wedged it into the space beside her. She unzipped the bag, slid her hand inside, and groped around the bottom. The bag was nearly empty, but she clutched two plastic tubes in the bottom. Fatima glanced around to make sure no one was watching. She retrieved the tubes from the bag, pulled her right arm inside the burqa, and stuffed them into the pocket of her nurse's uniform. She pushed the bag onto the floor, kicked it beneath the seat in front of her, and stood up to exit the bus.

Fatima was the last one off the bus at the hospital. She stepped down and shuffled to the end of the line. One by one, the guard questioned those ahead of her. He carefully searched through every bag and purse. Fatima stepped up to the table when her turn finally came.

"What is your purpose here at the hospital?" the guard demanded gruffly.

"I'm a nurse on ward two-east."

"Let me see your identification."

Fatima reached into her purse and pulled out her ID. Her hand trembled, as she handed the ID to the soldier. He looked at it for a moment, before handing it back.

"Let me see your purse."

Fatima handed him the purse. The guard rifled through the bottom and searched the side pocket. He handed it back.

"You may go."

Fatima walked past the two guards posted at the front door. She walked down a long hall towards the back of the hospital and ducked into an empty bathroom at the rear of the building.

She yanked the burqa over her head, stuffed it into the bottom of the garbage can, and covered it with a wad of paper towels.

Two technicians were walking past the bathroom, as she stepped back into the hall. One of the women recognized Fatima. She smiled and waved, before continuing her conversation.

Fatima scurried to a nearby bank of elevators and pushed the call button. The door opened and she stepped into the empty car. She pushed the button for the basement. The door rolled closed and the elevator lurched downward. It jerked to a stop and the door rattled open.

There was a dimly lit hallway extending in both directions outside the elevator doors. Strings of bare light bulbs hung down from the water-stained ceiling to the right and left. Fatima headed to the right. A large bucket was positioned beneath a leak in the ceiling half way down the corridor. The kerplunk of drops hitting the water echoed through the hall.

The corridor served as a storage area for discarded and rarely used hospital equipment. Dozens of spare beds and old medical instruments lined both sides of the hall. Most of it was antiquated junk.

Fatima hurried to the end of the hall where several mattresses were stacked against the wall. She scooted the outermost mattress away from the stack and ducked into the space behind it.

The floor was cold and damp. Fatima lifted her arm. The luminescent dial on her watch read ten minutes after eleven. She leaned her head against the mattress behind her and sighed.

Time passed very slowly. As Fatima sat listening to her own breathing, she became aware of recurring scratching and tapping noises. At first she couldn't identify the sounds. Suddenly, a series of squeaks and patter came from her right. Fatima jerked towards the sound. A cat-sized rat peered at her out of the shadows.

Fatima suppressed the urge to scream. She yanked at the mattress in front of her and the rat scampered away.

Fatima drew her legs beneath her and stood up between the two mattresses. She fumbled in her pocket, withdrew one of the plastic tubes, and broke off the sheath that protected the tip. She crouched back down on the floor.

"Allah, give me strength," she muttered in the near darkness.

She heard another scratching noise and jerked her head to the right. Another enormous rat was staring at her with black, beady eyes. A chill ran up her spine.

The rat inched towards her along the edge of the mattress. Fatima sat absolutely rigid. The pounding of her heart seemed deafening, as the bold creature crept within arms length. Fatima shrieked and lunged at the rodent. She jabbed the tip into the rat's backside. The syringe hissed. The rat took a few uncoordinated steps and collapsed. Fatima recapped the needle and leaned her head against the mattress. She took a deep breath.

Fatima nodded towards sleep several times during the next hour, only to be jolted awake by the screech of nearby rodents. She held a syringe at the ready each time the noise grew louder, only to relax her guard once the ruckus subsided.

She peered at her watch in the darkness. Nearly two hours had passed since her vigil began. She jerked to attention, as the elevator door rumbled open down the hall. The sound of footsteps, distant at first and then steadily nearer, echoed towards her. In an instant, the mattress in front of her slid away and she was exposed.

The Chinese orderly grasped the mattress with both hands and heaved it up off the floor. He glanced back over his shoulder, as he turned towards the elevators.

"What in the?" he blurted. "What are you doing back there?"

"Sorry my dear fellow."

Fatima lunged forward with the syringe. The needle hissed against his arm. The orderly's expression melted to shocked disbelief. He crumpled across the mattress before he could utter another word.

Fatima re-capped the syringe and slid it into her dress pocket. She grabbed the orderly by the ankles and pulled him off the mattress. She set the mattress back on edge, slid it forward towards the door, and leaned it against a broken table. She grabbed the second mattress, pulled it away from the stack, and leaned it against an old cart on the opposite side of the hall. She winced at the site of rodent droppings scattered on the newly exposed cement floor. She brushed the refuse away with her shoe.

Fatima pushed and pulled the unconscious man across the floor by the ankles until he was positioned against the third mattress in the line. She retrieved the second mattress and pulled it back against the stack to conceal them both. Out of breath, she slumped to her knees.

The elevator door rattled open a few minutes later.

"Xiadong, are you down here?" a clearly irritated woman called out.

Softer footsteps echoed down the hall towards them.

"Wait till I get my hands on that loafer."

The screech of the mattress across the floor was followed by the rattle of the elevator door. The hall grew silent once again.

Fatima fought to stay awake, as she periodically checked the orderly. He remained in a deep sleep for just over an hour and then began to stir. He moaned, lifted his head off the floor, and looked confusedly around him.

Fatima checked her watch. It was one forty-five in the morning. She snapped the cap off the syringe and pressed it against the man's forearm. It hissed once more and the man slumped back to the floor.

Fatima scooted around the end of the mattress. She checked to make sure the orderly was completely hidden and walked away towards the elevator.

The elevator rattled open on the third floor. Fatima walked to the main corridor and peered around the corner. The hallway was empty in both directions. She strode purposefully into the three-east ward and commandeered a wheel chair that was parked against the wall. Room 312 was on the right. Fatima retrieved the syringe from her pocket, uncapped it, and pushed the wheel chair through the door.

An ISI guard was sitting in a chair behind the door. He bolted to his feet.

"What do you want?"

"They repaired the CT scanner," Fatima replied cheerfully. "They called Mr. Jan for his study."

The guard frowned and looked at his watch.

"I wasn't told about this."

"Well, it was ordered by the doctor this morning. He wants to make sure there's no bleeding. You can go down to radiology with us. Help me get him into the wheelchair."

"Wait right here. I'll be back in a moment."

The soldier reached for the door and Fatima thrust the syringe against his arm. The man grabbed at the syringe with a puzzled expression on his face. Suddenly, his eyes rolled back into his head and he crumbled to the ground. Fatima pulled the guard along the floor by the ankles and slid him beneath the bed.

"Mr. Jan, Mr. Jan," Fatima whispered, as she shook the Tajik's arm.

Ahmed opened his eyes. Blurry-eyed, he stared up at Fatima.

"What is it?"

"Mr. Jan, I'm here to take you to Mustafa."

Ahmed bolted upright in the bed. He grimaced with pain.

"Mustafa?"

"Yes. He's here in the hospital. We must hurry. Let me help you into the chair."

Mustafa swung his legs over the side of the bed. Fatima helped him to his feet and he hobbled to the wheelchair.

"Where are your clothes?" she asked.

"This is all I have except for my parka. It's in the closet."

Fatima fetched the parka and set it in his lap.

He peered up with a puzzled expression, as if it were all a dream.

"Are we leaving the hospital?"

"Yes. Your friends are waiting for you outside the hospital entrance."

Ahmed pointed to the counter.

"I need that box. The key is on the counter."

Fatima handed Ahmed the small metal box and Ahmed tucked the key in his pocket. He placed the box in his lap and covered it with the parka.

"OK, I'm ready."

Fatima shoved the wheelchair through the door. The hall was still empty. She pushed the wheelchair back to the elevator. She hit the call button and the elevator door rolled open. Fatima wheeled Ahmed's chair inside and selected the second floor.

The elevator door lurched open on the second floor. Fatima pushed the wheelchair across the corridor and through the door into the storeroom.

"Stay right here, Mr. Jan. I'll be back in a few minutes. Be very quiet and don't come out of this room for any reason until I return. Do you understand?"

Ahmed grasped her arm.

"Thank you for helping me. I'll do as you say."

Fatima ducked out of the storeroom and headed for the main corridor. She glanced at her watch. It was two twenty a.m. She turned the corner and walked towards the two-east station. A nurse sitting at the nurse's station looked up from a chart.

"Hi Zora, how are you? I haven't seen you in months."

"What are you doing here Fatima? Janisa called me in to take your shift. She told me you were sick."

"It was nothing but a bad stomachache. I feel better now. They had three admissions on three-east. The supervisor called and asked if I could come in. Have you seen my yellow tea cup anywhere?"

"I haven't seen any cups around here."

"That's funny. I could have sworn I left it here yesterday. Maybe the guard in the surveillance room has it. I'll just check."

Zora smiled amusedly.

"Oh, your tea cup, huh? The guard asked about you when I first got here."

"He did?"

"Yes, he did. He was disappointed you weren't here. I'd say you're his cup of tea from the looks of it."

Fatima chuckled and shrugged. She walked back to the surveillance room and knocked on the door. There was no answer. She knocked again and looked towards the nurse's station. Zora was still sitting at the desk watching with a mischievous grin on her face.

Fatima leaned against the door, as if listening. She turned the knob and pushed the door open. The room was empty.

"Oh, hello," she called out loudly. "I was looking for you."

She darted into the room and shut the door. Her heart was pounding.

Fatima looked up at the video monitors. Mustafa and Mohammajon were both asleep in their room. She scurried to the tape cabinet in the back of the room. Fatima selected tapes from the night shift two days prior and pulled the cases from the shelf. She pushed the eject button on each machine and removed the tapes. She replaced them with the older tapes and pushed the rewind buttons. Both machines hummed loudly. Fatima placed the ejected tapes in the cases and returned them to the shelf.

Each of the tape machines clicked to a stop just over a minute later. Fatima pushed the play buttons. Each screen lit up with electronic noise. The monitors flickered a couple of times before images of Mustafa and Mohammajon suddenly appeared on the video monitors. They were both sleeping.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. Fatima scurried behind the door. The footsteps grew louder and stopped. The knob began to turn and the door opened. It was Lieutenant Qazi. His mouth gaped with astonishment.

"What are you doing in here?"

He glanced at the video monitors.

"I was looking for you," Fatima cooed with a shy smile.

The lieutenant continued to regard her sternly with his piercing black eyes. He glanced up at the video monitors once again.

"I thought you were sick."

"I was," she purred coyly, "but they needed me to come in to work. The ward was busy and I'm feeling better."

Fatima ran her finger over the cluster of medals across the guard's chest. She leaned her head back and smiled up at him.

"I'm off on Monday. The babysitter is taking my son to my mother's house in Islamabad. Would you like to come over to my apartment for dinner?"

The lieutenant's expression melted into one of glee. He reached out and pulled Fatima to him.

"I'll bring a bottle of wine I bought on the black market."

Fatima fished in her pocket for the syringe. She flicked the cover from the needle, pulled the syringe from her pocket, and wrapped her arms around him.

"I've never tasted wine. Is it good?"

Fatima jabbed the needle into the back of the guard's exposed neck. It hissed, as Qazi pushed her away. A look of shock gave way to stupor. She guided him into the corner, as he collapsed against the wall and crumbled to the floor.

Fatima patted the lieutenant on the head and opened the door. The nurse's desk was empty. She glanced at her watch. It was twenty minutes before three.

Fatima dashed past the Afghani's room towards the elevators. Colonel Khan staggered from the elevator alcove right in front of her. He reeked of cheap whiskey. He smiled lecherously, as he stumbled towards her.

"There you are my little kitten."

He grabbed Fatima's arm and began to pull her down the corridor.

"Come with me," he chortled drunkenly, "there's something I want to show you."

"Stop it!" Fatima screamed.

She tried to pull from his grasp, but fell to her knees.

"What are you doing?" a voice called out behind them.

It was a nurse from another ward. The woman took a few tentative steps towards them.

"Mind your own business!" Khan bellowed with a drunkard's slur.

His face contorted with rage.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll forget you saw us here. You hear me? Off with you now!"

The woman glanced remorsefully towards Fatima. She looked at the Colonel. Finally, she turned and hurried around the corner.

"Come here you little slut," Khan seethed.

Fatima tried to push his hand away. The colonel grabbed her wrist and dragged her along the floor. She tried to fight, but to no avail. He towed her past the elevator alcove to his office door. Holding her wrist with one hand, he fumbled to find his keys with the other. He slipped the key into the door, opened it, and pulled her in the office. He slammed the door closed.

Khan was on top of her in an instant. He writhed against her body and groped at the zipper on the back of her uniform, as he struggled to force her legs apart. She screamed and tried to role him off. Khan lifted up and crashed his fist down on the side of Fatima's head.

"Shut up!" he shouted, as he pushed his pants down, lifted her dress, and shimmied between her knees.

Fatima reached for her pocket. She found the second syringe, knocked the cap off against the floor, and jabbed the needle into Khan's bare buttocks. A hiss echoed through the room.

Khan yelped and rolled off of her. He stared at the syringe in her hand.

"You bitch!" he slurred.

Within an instant he drooped to the floor.

Fatima cried out hysterically and rolled onto her side. She lifted herself first to her knees and then to her feet. She set the syringe on the desk. She smoothed her hair and rearranged her uniform.

She tried the top drawer on the desk. It was locked. She knelt beside Khan and began rummaging through his pockets until she found his key ring. Still on her knees, she inserted the small key into the lock and opened the drawer. She fetched the four green passports from beneath a pad of paper and stuffed them into her uniform pocket.

Fatima, still sniffling, pulled herself to her feet and stepped to the door. She yanked the door open and took a step into the hall, but abruptly stopped in her tracks. She turned around, stepped across Khan's body to the desk, and grabbed the syringe. Without hesitation, she jabbed the syringe into the back of Khan's arm. When the hiss subsided, she jabbed it into his arm again and again and again.

Fatima looked around on the floor for the cap and found it beneath the desk. She pushed the cap back onto the syringe, slipped the syringe into her pocket, and bounded out the door. She glanced at her watch. It was ten minutes before three.

Fatima scurried through the alcove and directly into the storeroom across from the elevators. Ahmed Jan was sound asleep in his wheelchair.

"Let's go Mr. Jan," Fatima whispered, as she pushed the chair from the storeroom.

She wheeled him into the main corridor, down the hall, and into the Tajik's room. Mohammajon was sitting on the edge of the bed reading when the wheelchair came through the door. His mouth gaped open at the sight of Ahmed Jan. He jumped from the bed.

"Ahmed Jan! Praise Allah! We thought you were dead."

"We don't have time for a reunion," Fatima barked.

She shook Mustafa from his sleep. Mustafa bolted upright. He peered at Fatima and then glanced towards Ahmed. He swung his legs off the bed.

"Ahmed, my friend," he whispered, as he scampered to the wheelchair and patted his fellow Mujaheddin on the back. "I do not believe my eyes."

Fatima tossed both of the Tajiks their clothes from the closet.

"Put them on. Hurry, the truck will be here soon."

Mustafa and Mohammajon didn't move. The two men stood holding their clothes and staring back at her. Fatima crossed her arms across her chest.

"There's nothing I haven't seen before. Come now, we must hurry."

The two men did not budge. Fatima finally stamped her foot and spun around to face the opposite direction. She sighed.

"I will never understand men."

The clothing rustled behind her. Fatima turned around after a few moments. The two men were sitting on the side of the bed forcing on their shoes.

Mustafa finished first. He rushed across the room and threw his arms around Fatima. She returned his embrace and the two spun in each other's arms, oblivious to the others around them.

"I love you Fatima, I love you!"

"Oh, I love you too," she whispered, as she kissed Mustafa fully on the lips.

Mohammajon looked towards Ahmed. He was sitting in the wheelchair with his mouth open taking in their jubilation. Ahmed turned to look at Mohammajon. Each man caught the other's bewildered stare.

"Don't look at me," Mohammajon uttered, "I told him she wasn't interested."

The two lovers finally released their embrace and Fatima scrambled behind the wheelchair.

"Here," she whispered, as she handed Mustafa one of the syringes. "It's a knockout syringe. Take the cap off and press it against the skin. It triggers unconscious in a matter of moments."

Fatima glanced at her watch. It was straight up 3 a.m.

"We must go. The truck is outside."

She pushed Ahmed's wheelchair into the hall. Mustafa and Mohammajon followed on foot. They jogged towards the elevators.

"Fatima," a voice called out behind them, "where are you going?"

Fatima turned. It was Zora. The nurse was running towards them from the station. She looked perplexed, almost unwilling to accept what she was seeing.

"Zora, didn't you hear the fire alarm? There's a bad fire on the three-east. Get the other patients. We're going out the front door of the hospital. I'll be back to help."

Fatima shoved the wheelchair into the elevator alcove and pushed the button. As the elevator lurched downward, she looked up at Mustafa. He smiled and squeezed her hand.

The door rattled open on the ground floor. Fatima peered out of the car in both directions. The hall was empty. She wheeled the chair towards the east side of the hospital and down the corridor towards the side exit door. Mustafa and Mohammajon huffed and puffed behind her. They heard voices shouting and feet running in the hall above them. Fatima recognized Zora's voice.

"Fire, fire, get down to the first floor!" Zora yelled.

Fatima guided the group around a corner at the end of the corridor. They hurried up the hall to the side door. It was locked with a heavy bar.

"We must go out the front door," Fatima whispered, as she wheeled the chair around and retreated back down the hall. "It's the only way."

"We can't go that way," Mustafa whispered skeptically. "There'll be guards at the front entrance."

"Just get the syringe ready."

Suddenly, the nearby stairwell door burst open.

"Fire, fire, there's fire on the third floor!" Zora shouted, as she and a dozen patients in hospital gowns ran for the hospital front entrance.

Fatima spotted the fire alarm on the wall next to her. She took the hammer hanging from the chain, broke the glass, and pressed the switch. Fire alarms began to ring throughout the facility. Within moments, dozens of staff and patients were running from the back of the hospital towards the entrance.

"Let's go!" Fatima shouted to Mustafa and Mohammajon above the commotion.

Fatima merged the wheelchair into a group of fleeing men. Mustafa and Mohammajon ran close behind.

The hospital entrance was in complete disarray. Nurses, doctors, and patients were shouting and pushing their way out the front door. Guards were shuffling through the throng and running in the opposite direction back into the facility. All the while, the fire alarms continued to clang.

Fatima wheeled the chair through the front door to the east side of the front portico. The inclined walkway was jammed with people trying to push down to the driveway. Little by little, the Tajiks made progress until finally they made it to the street.

Fatima looked to the east access road. There was a white Suburban parked along the curb.

"OK, there they are!" she shouted above the commotion.

Fatima pushed the wheelchair around the side of the building and headed for the vehicle with Mustafa and Mohammajon right behind her.

"Hey, where are you going?" a voice bellowed behind them.

They stopped dead in their tracks and turned. It was an ISI officer with a Kalashnikov machine gun.

Fatima turned the wheelchair and shouted.

"We're getting away from the building! There's a fire!"

The soldier motioned with his rifle.

"Stay up here at the front of the hospital with the others."

The four renegades took a few steps back towards the guard. Suddenly, Mustafa leaped forward. He jabbed the syringe against the soldier's arm. The syringe hissed and the man collapsed to the ground. Mustafa grabbed the machine gun and sprinted to the Suburban.

The driver door opened and Advani jumped out. He opened the rear door.

"Hurry, get in!"

Fatima helped Ahmed into the back seat. Mohammajon and Mustafa jumped into the second seat. Advani slammed the door shut. He jumped into the driver's seat, put the Suburban in gear, and rammed his foot down on the gas pedal.

"Get down!" Advani yelled. "We're gonna run the gate!"

A crowd of people stood in the road near the front entrance to the hospital. Advani veered the Suburban up on the grass to avoid the knot. He knocked over a direction sign and skidded back onto the main road towards the entry gate.

A soldier with a machine gun jumped in the road to block their escape. He aimed and fired as the Suburban bore down on him. A burst of bullets sprayed across the vehicle and shattered the windshield. The soldier dove out of the way at the last moment. The Suburban exploded through the gate, skidded onto the highway, and headed east.

"Everyone OK?" Advani yelled above the whistle of the wind whipping through the vehicle.

Mustafa looked over the seat behind him. Fatima nodded, as Ahmed grinned and tried to catch his breath. Mustafa glanced at Mohammajon. He was crouched on the floor behind the driver's seat with his eyes closed. He was chanting.

"Yeah, we're all OK," Mustafa shouted back.

The Suburban raced down the highway for several kilometers before Advani skidded off the highway onto a gravel road and into a clump of trees. The truck bumped and shook along the rutted path for a hundred meters. Advani steered towards a clearing and skidded the truck to a stop.

"This is it!" he shouted. "Everyone out! The helicopter will be here any moment."

Advani jumped out of the front seat and ran to the middle of the clearing. He set an electronic homing device on the ground. He scanned the dark sky, as he strode back to the group.

The three Tajiks climbed out of the vehicle. Mustafa helped Fatima get out after them. She stepped down into his arms and clung to his chest.

"I love you Mustafa. Allah is my witness. I wish I could go with you."

Mustafa held her away by the arms.

"What do you mean, Fatima? You are going with us!"

Tears began to well in her eyes. She shook her head.

"There's no room in the helicopter."

Mustafa turned to Advani.

"There must be room. I will not leave her here."

The whirl of a helicopter, faint at first, but growing louder, approached them from the south.

Advani shrugged.

"There's room."

Mustafa turned back to Fatima. He drew her into his arms.

"Did you hear, Fatima? There's plenty of room."

Fatima pulled away. She slipped the passports into Mustafa's tunic pocket, brushed the tears away with her sleeve, and grasped both of Mustafa's arms.

"I can't come with you Mustafa. I won't abandon my son and mother. You must go without me."

The helicopter descended out of the darkness, its engines roaring. It settled to the ground with two spotlights illuminating the clearing beneath it.

"Let's go!" Advani yelled above the din.

He patted Mohammajon on the back. Ahmed and Mohammajon trotted across the clearing and disappeared into the helicopter door.

"Are you coming Mustafa?" Advani yelled.

"No, you go ahead!" Mustafa bellowed above the roar of the helicopter.

He wrapped his right arm around Fatima and enclosed her in a bear hug.

"I'm not leaving you," he shouted.

Fatima jerked around and jabbed Mustafa in the arm with one of the knockout syringes. Mustafa gawked at her in open-mouthed horror. Fatima stared back with grief-stricken eyes, as Mustafa slumped to the ground in front of her.

Fatima began pulling Mustafa by the legs along the ground towards the helicopter. Two soldiers in camouflage parkas leaped from the helicopter. They lifted Mustafa from the ground and rushed towards the side door. Another man inside the helicopter helped them ease Mustafa onto the floor. The soldiers leaped back inside.

Ahmed climbed down from the helicopter to the ground. He embraced Fatima.

"Allah will bless you, Fatima. I'll never forget what you've done."

One of the soldiers reached out and tugged Ahmed's sleeve. He broke away and the soldiers pulled him into the helicopter. The gunner began to slide the door closed.

"Wait!" Fatima screamed above the engines.

Fatima pulled the golden falcon and chain over her head. She leaned into the helicopter and slid the medallion around Mustafa's neck. She kissed him on the cheek.

"Tell him I love him!"

Ahmed smiled regretfully and nodded, as the helicopter door slid closed.

The engines on the helicopter began to whine anew and the wind swirled around the aircraft. Fatima ducked away, holding her scarf with one hand and her dress with the other.

The blades accelerated and the giant bird lifted from the ground. It hovered for a moment, before fading across the clearing. The helicopter reversed direction and soared back across the treetops. Fatima stood in the middle of the clearing shielding her eyes. She waved her arm.

Two military trucks sped into the clearing and stopped behind her. Half a dozen armed soldiers jumped from the bed of one of the trucks and surrounded her. The whine of the helicopter engines faded into the night.