Read Online Agency Rules - Never an Easy Day at the Office by Khalid Muhammad - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Khalid Muhammad
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his seat, meeting his son halfway. He stopped when he realized that his son was not alone.
“Abbu, this is Major Iftikhar, one of my training instructors,” Kamal preempted what he assumed would be a sarcastic, derisory greeting from his father. “He was also my training officer during SSG training.”
Afzal Khan ’s hand pushed forward to meet Iftikhar’s; with a half smile he said, “I hope that he hasn’t been too much trouble for you.”
Kamal fought the urge to roll his eyes.
“Trouble?” Iftikhar sounded confused. “Kamal has been one of my best students! Which would explain his continued success and growth in the armed forces. He has the ability to absorb information like a sponge and execute it like an seasoned veteran.”
Afzal Khan looked taken aback. “ Well…well. It’s good to hear that he has been able to do something right in his life.” Afzal, looking derisively at his son, missed the flash of anger that lit up the Major’s eyes. “I am taking him for lunch; would you like to join us?”
Iftikhar responded with a smooth charm, but Kamal knew him well enough to know from the stiff shoulders that Iftikhar was pissed. “Actually, Kamal has to attend a briefing with his new commanding officer right now. He needs to be brought up to speed on his posting, so he probably won ’t be able to leave the Academy.”
Afzal Khan wasn ’t used to being refused, but he couldn’t tell if Iftikhar was lying, and Kamal’s face was maddeningly blank as well. There was a small awkward silence as Afzal tried to think of an appropriate comeback. The two faces before him were stiff and unwelcome, and for the first time in his life, he felt like an outsider.
“So, Kamal, where have you been posted?”
Before Kamal could even reach for his posting orders, Iftikhar replied. “Sorry, sir. That’s classified. The location of an asset is never disclosed, not even to family members. I will be your point of contact if you need information.” He offered his business card to Afzal Khan. “This is done for both parties’ security.”
Afzal had no military background, much less training in espionage, so he was unable to question anything Iftikhar was telling him.
“Kamal, we should be going. The Colonel is waiting for us in the Commandant’s office,” Iftikhar said, grabbing Kamal’s arm. “It was a pleasure meeting you. If you need any information about Kamal, please feel free to contact me.”
Dismissed and rebuffed, Afzal Khan ’s face fell. He felt that he had made an effort – he had come to his son’s graduation. The least he should have gotten in return was a cordial lunch. Granted, he had been prepared to find that Kamal barely scraped through, that he would return to the family home, and be available to shoulder some of his own burdens.
Instead, with a quick formal goodbye, the Kamal and Iftikhar turned around and headed for the main building. Kamal fought the urge to turn around one last time. He ’d seen the expression on his father’s face, and was a little surprised and angry at him. Did he really think that appearing at one graduation would make up for missing the rest? For beating me with his belt when I was too small to defend myself? For either ignoring me or putting me down for most of my life? “Is the Colonel really waiting for me?” Kamal asked Iftikhar when they were out of earshot from his father.
“Did you want to go to lunch with daddy?” Iftikhar retorted.
* * *
Peshawar had never been foreign territory to Kamal, having family scattered around the city and working in government offices. His own level of familiarity with the city rivaled that of any of the permanent residents; he had grown up in University Town, the “old money” of the city, during his primary education. He had often joked with friends that he could not move in the city without running into someone that he knew. He would have to make great efforts to avoid that this time around, he thought to
“Abbu, this is Major Iftikhar, one of my training instructors,” Kamal preempted what he assumed would be a sarcastic, derisory greeting from his father. “He was also my training officer during SSG training.”
Afzal Khan ’s hand pushed forward to meet Iftikhar’s; with a half smile he said, “I hope that he hasn’t been too much trouble for you.”
Kamal fought the urge to roll his eyes.
“Trouble?” Iftikhar sounded confused. “Kamal has been one of my best students! Which would explain his continued success and growth in the armed forces. He has the ability to absorb information like a sponge and execute it like an seasoned veteran.”
Afzal Khan looked taken aback. “ Well…well. It’s good to hear that he has been able to do something right in his life.” Afzal, looking derisively at his son, missed the flash of anger that lit up the Major’s eyes. “I am taking him for lunch; would you like to join us?”
Iftikhar responded with a smooth charm, but Kamal knew him well enough to know from the stiff shoulders that Iftikhar was pissed. “Actually, Kamal has to attend a briefing with his new commanding officer right now. He needs to be brought up to speed on his posting, so he probably won ’t be able to leave the Academy.”
Afzal Khan wasn ’t used to being refused, but he couldn’t tell if Iftikhar was lying, and Kamal’s face was maddeningly blank as well. There was a small awkward silence as Afzal tried to think of an appropriate comeback. The two faces before him were stiff and unwelcome, and for the first time in his life, he felt like an outsider.
“So, Kamal, where have you been posted?”
Before Kamal could even reach for his posting orders, Iftikhar replied. “Sorry, sir. That’s classified. The location of an asset is never disclosed, not even to family members. I will be your point of contact if you need information.” He offered his business card to Afzal Khan. “This is done for both parties’ security.”
Afzal had no military background, much less training in espionage, so he was unable to question anything Iftikhar was telling him.
“Kamal, we should be going. The Colonel is waiting for us in the Commandant’s office,” Iftikhar said, grabbing Kamal’s arm. “It was a pleasure meeting you. If you need any information about Kamal, please feel free to contact me.”
Dismissed and rebuffed, Afzal Khan ’s face fell. He felt that he had made an effort – he had come to his son’s graduation. The least he should have gotten in return was a cordial lunch. Granted, he had been prepared to find that Kamal barely scraped through, that he would return to the family home, and be available to shoulder some of his own burdens.
Instead, with a quick formal goodbye, the Kamal and Iftikhar turned around and headed for the main building. Kamal fought the urge to turn around one last time. He ’d seen the expression on his father’s face, and was a little surprised and angry at him. Did he really think that appearing at one graduation would make up for missing the rest? For beating me with his belt when I was too small to defend myself? For either ignoring me or putting me down for most of my life? “Is the Colonel really waiting for me?” Kamal asked Iftikhar when they were out of earshot from his father.
“Did you want to go to lunch with daddy?” Iftikhar retorted.
* * *
Peshawar had never been foreign territory to Kamal, having family scattered around the city and working in government offices. His own level of familiarity with the city rivaled that of any of the permanent residents; he had grown up in University Town, the “old money” of the city, during his primary education. He had often joked with friends that he could not move in the city without running into someone that he knew. He would have to make great efforts to avoid that this time around, he thought to
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