Naveed Read online

  ‘Yes,’ Naveed replies. ‘She got old doll. How you know?’

  ‘Just a hunch. Make sure you bring it with you tomorrow.’

  ‘Why bring?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  After Naveed leaves, Jake reports to his boss about his session.

  ‘I see it like this, Joe. The dog’s good, the boy’s good, and I’m good to go.’

  ‘You don’t think he’s a bit young? I mean it’s hard enough getting adults to stick with a serious training program. How do you know the kid won’t just walk out halfway through?’

  ‘I don’t. But I’m willing to bet he won’t. And I really believe we can do some good here.’

  ‘Okay then. You don’t have any missions scheduled for the next week. So go ahead. Give him and the dog a few hours each day. By the end of the week you’ll know if you’ve got a goer or not.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Jake turns to leave. At the door he pauses. ‘Oh, there is one other thing,’ he says. ‘Artificial arms and legs? What do you call those things?’

  ‘Prosthetics?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s it. They do them at the hospital here on the base, don’t they?’

  ‘Sure. There’s a special unit. Why?’

  ‘Who’s the best person to see?’

  ‘Doctor Radcliffe. She’s as busy as all hell, but tell her I sent you.’

  ‘Thanks again.’ Jake disappears through the doorway.

  ‘Hey. You haven’t answered me. Why?’

  ‘Another time, Joe,’ Jake calls over his shoulder.

  Chapter 20

  Naveed’s mother and sister have long since gone to bed, but he is wide awake. Although it must be after midnight he is still bubbling with excitement from the events of the day, thoughts racing through his mind. He has left the little room where they live and sits just inside the alcove. Nasera lies beside him, her head resting on his leg, her eyes on her ragdoll, which she has dropped in his lap. He gazes down the narrow lane that runs past the house, and then up at the sky strewn with jewel-like stars. A fog is drifting in.

  He can hear the big carrier planes still taking off and landing at Bagram Airfield. This is the best time for them to do that, safer from attack than in daylight. Even so, a flare flickers into the night accompanied by mortar blasts to the east: definitely Taliban. A chorus of gunfire chatters in reply, followed by a mighty explosion that makes the ground shudder and lights up the sky. A quiet period follows – dogs bark, a cat yowls, someone shouts something somewhere.

  Earlier that night, Naveed didn’t say much to his mother or sister about his time at the base with Jake, despite their many questions. One part of him desperately wanted to tell everything. But caution made him hold back; if nothing came of it, the disappointment would be so great for all of them. And if something did eventuate, the joy would be so much greater. ‘Don’t expect anything,’ he said with a shrug over their evening meal. ‘But I’ll go back for a few days just in case. Who knows?’

  ‘Just imagine,’ he now whispers to Nasera. ‘We could save people, save lives, limbs.’ With that thought alone, life has suddenly taken on an extra meaning for Naveed. It doesn’t have to be only about getting up and finding work in order to eat. It can be about much more.

  When he was at the base, Naveed couldn’t explain to Jake why he’d become so emotional. At the time he wasn’t even sure himself. Now he knows that a great weight has been lifted from him. And with that weight has gone some of the darkness that has filled his life ever since Anoosheh lost her legs, made even more intense when his father died.

  For years he’d carried the darkness wherever he went, never letting on to anyone, especially his mother and sister, always showing a brave face. He had to; he was the man of the house. But in fact it had been slowly eating away at him.

  Now it has lifted a little, at least enough for him to see ahead. Never has anything so wonderful happened to him. This is a chance to end the darkness forever. Naveed knows he has to grasp it with both hands – no, more than that – with all his heart and soul.

  ‘I’ll do it, Padar,’ he whispers. ‘You’ll be proud of me.’

  Nasera looks up at him, her head cocked sideways, and makes a whining noise.

  ‘Bebakhshid – sorry,’ he says to her. ‘I meant you, too. We will do it; that’s what I really meant.’

  He gives her an extra big hug. But she growls and pulls away, leaping up.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  Nasera’s ears are pricked, her eyes alert as she listens intently. She sniffs at the air and growls again. Naveed can hear something as well now – muted voices at the far end of the lane. He catches a whiff of diesel fumes.

  ‘Quiet,’ he whispers to her, and carefully gets to his feet.

  Something feels wrong. There is hardly ever any night-time activity in this area. It’s a storage district, mainly filled with warehouses. Naveed and his family are the only people actually living in the lane. There’s plenty of action through the day, trucks and people from before sunrise into the early evening. But never as late as this.

  ‘Come.’ Naveed beckons to Nasera. He tosses the doll into her bed and creeps down the laneway, keeping flush with the wall.

  The voices grow louder as Naveed approaches the parking area for Mr Kalin’s warehouse, about halfway down the lane. The voices are still too muffled for him to hear exactly what’s being said, but he does recognise one, that of Mr Kalin, and peeps around the corner. A truck and two smaller vehicles are parked in front of the warehouse. One is Mr Kalin’s car, the other a black Humvee.

  Naveed drops to his belly and slides around the corner, edging along behind a low retaining wall, followed closely by Nasera. When he’s as close as he dares get, he stops and pulls himself up to look over the top of the wall.

  The truck is backed up to the open doors of the warehouse and men are lifting rectangular boxes from it. The boxes are about a metre and a half long and perhaps half a metre in depth and width. They are also clearly quite heavy, for it takes two men to lift each crate down from the truck, and another two to ease them onto the ground before carrying them into the warehouse. Armed guards are stationed around the truck.

  Mr Kalin is standing over one box that has been opened, inspecting the contents with another man. Naveed recognises the man by his bulky, overweight frame and thick bushy beard. He is Salar Khan, the local warlord and drug dealer. It was probably his Humvee that almost ran over Anoosheh that day near her school.

  ‘Not bad, Kalin,’ the warlord mutters. ‘But you’re asking too much.’

  ‘They’re the latest. You won’t find better.’

  ‘Still too much. Remember the cause. It is a noble one.’

  Mr Kalin waves his hands about. ‘Of course. I’m sure we can come to an arrangement that pleases you.’

  ‘I hope so. And the other? You have plenty of that?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Mr Kalin chuckles. ‘Enough to do the job several times over. And it’s all safe with me. No one will find it.’

  ‘Very well,’ says Salar Khan. ‘You’ll hear from someone when we’re ready.’

  He snaps his fingers and a guard rushes to the Humvee, opening the back door. Salar Khan lumbers across to his vehicle.

  ‘Glad to be of service,’ Mr Kalin says, scurrying behind.

  ‘Just be ready when the time comes,’ the warlord growls as he climbs into the Humvee. His door slams shut and the black vehicle roars off, leaving Mr Kalin in a cloud of diesel smoke. He coughs, waving away the fumes, and turns around.

  ‘Ajala kon! – Hurry up!’ he yells at the men. ‘I don’t have all night, you lazy dogs.’

  Naveed strains his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s in the open crate. But before he can see anything, one of the workers slaps a lid on top and hammers it down.

  He slides out of sight behind the low wall and slithers back to the laneway.

  Chapter 21

  Naveed arrives at Bagram Airfield early the next morning, Nasera at his side
. They wait at the entry control point until Jake comes. He doesn’t have Stingray with him this time.

  ‘We’re going to focus totally on your dog, mate,’ he says, beckoning Naveed through the ECP. ‘Did you bring that doll?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Jake.’ Naveed points to his bag. ‘Is here.’

  ‘Let’s get cracking then.’

  They go to a quieter area of the base where Jake gets Naveed to spend some time just throwing a ball for Nasera. No matter how often he throws the ball she bounds after it, bringing it back and dropping it at his feet, waiting keenly for him to throw it again.

  ‘See how she loves doing this?’ says Jake. ‘She can’t get enough of it. That’s good because we can use it as her reward. Okay so far?’

  Naveed shakes his head. ‘What reward, Mr Jake?’

  ‘For sniffing out explosives. That’s what this is all about.’ Jake holds up a box with the word EXPLOSIVES printed across it in big letters. ‘Whenever she smells out one of these nasties, we reward her. We can do it with food but the ball is best. It’s in her blood. Understand?’

  ‘I think.’ Naveed frowns. ‘But how we teach her smell bomb?’

  ‘That’s the next step. And that’s where the doll comes in.’ Jake holds out his hand.

  Naveed pulls the ragdoll from his bag and gives it to Jake. Nasera sees this and immediately her ears prick up and her eyes become fixed on the doll.

  ‘Keep a hold of her,’ Jake tells Naveed as he walks over to a concrete wall about twenty metres away.

  He puts the doll on the wall and places a small lump of what looks like grey putty next to it.

  ‘This is TNT,’ he explains. ‘It is just one of several explosives we’ll train Nasera to recognise. In a moment I’ll ask you to let her go. When you do, she’ll rush over here and retrieve her toy. She’ll do that because she wants to; she likes her toy. But at the same time she will also catch a whiff of the TNT.’

  ‘I see,’ says Naveed. ‘You make sniffing bomb kind of game, yes?’

  ‘That’s right. It’s a game, but a deadly serious one. And it takes a lot of training and practice. That’s where you come in.’

  ‘Okay. So I let her go now?’

  ‘Not yet. Remember I said she’ll rush over to her toy? When she reaches the doll I want you to call out. Tell her to sit and stay and what a good dog she is. Then walk over to her and—’

  ‘And throw ball for reward.’

  ‘Spot on, mate. I said you were a fast learner.’ Jake steps well back from the wall. ‘Ready to rock and roll, then?’

  Naveed frowns. ‘Rock and . . .?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Jake replies with a laugh. He points at Nasera. ‘Let’s see what the girl can do. Let her rip, er, I mean go.’

  It happens exactly as Jake said. Naveed is amazed. As soon as he releases Nasera she runs straight to the concrete wall and peers at the ragdoll. But as she is about to reach up and grab it in her mouth he calls out.

  ‘Sug khob – good dog,’ he shouts, holding up one hand. ‘Sit. Stay right there.’ She obeys. He walks over and pats her. ‘Sug beseyar khob – very good dog.’

  Then he produces her ball. She brightens at once, and races off when he throws it across the field, quickly returning to his side and dropping it at his feet.

  ‘Brilliant,’ Jake shouts. He strides over and slaps a reassuring hand on Naveed’s shoulder. ‘Lesson number one passed with flying colours.’

  Jake and Naveed spend the rest of the morning repeating this exercise with a number of variations aimed at both challenging Nasera and keeping her interested.

  ‘I want the scent of this explosive firmly imprinted on her brain,’ Jake explains. ‘But we mustn’t let her get bored,’ he adds, going on to pair the doll and the TNT in a range of different places.

  He puts them under a car and on the back of a quad bike, in a flower pot, in the fork of a tree, on some building rubble, and in the tray of a pickup truck, all the time allowing Nasera to see what he is doing while Naveed holds her back. Then, when she’s released, she runs directly to the spot and is promptly rewarded.

  ‘Let’s try something a bit different with her now,’ Jake says after many of these sessions.

  He sits the doll and the explosive next to a garbage bin. Nasera goes straight to the spot, of course – too easy. But the next time, Jake places the items inside the bin. That tests her out. She circles the bin several times, whining and sniffing at it. She knows her toy is in there; she’s seen Jake place it there. She stands up on her back legs and tries to push the bin over. But it won’t budge. In the end she sits on her haunches, turns to Naveed and barks.

  ‘Fantastic,’ Jake yells. ‘Wonderful. That is exactly what I wanted her to do. She’s letting you know that she’s found the toy. We’ve still got a long way to go, but believe me, she has just taken a really big step forward. In time that will be her way of telling you that she has found a landmine or some other explosive device.’ Jake beckons to Naveed. ‘Come on, mate. She deserves a bloody big reward.’

  Naveed hugs Nasera and throws the ball for her, while Jake jots down some notes in an exercise book. When he’s finished writing he glances at his watch.

  ‘We’re going to wrap it up there, Naveed. She’s just done over three hours’ solid training and she stayed focused the whole time. That’s darn good. If she can keep that up, you two are going to be real winners.’

  Naveed grins. ‘Thank you, Mr Jake. I proud of her,’ he says, giving Nasera another hug.

  ‘And so you should be,’ Jake adds as they walk back through the base. ‘She’s a smart dog, an even faster learner than I expected. Which means we are going to have to keep her fully occupied in these training sessions to make sure she doesn’t get bored.’

  ‘So we come again tomorrow?’

  ‘You bet. And the next day, and the next, for the rest of the week. Are you okay with that?’

  Okay? Of course Naveed is okay. A huge window has been opened in his life, letting in loads of light and fresh air. He can’t get enough of it.

  ‘No sweats, Mr Jake,’ he says as they reach the entry control point. ‘Is very okay.’

  After Naveed farewells Jake he strides down the long avenue leading off Bagram Airfield, feeling somehow taller. He can’t help noticing something different about Nasera as well. She’s walking much closer to him than usual, almost treading in his footsteps. And she’s watching him all the time, as if not wanting to let him out of her sight. Naveed can’t put his finger on it exactly, but something important has definitely happened to him and Nasera, to each individually as well as between them.

  He passes the long line of jingle trucks, pickups and motorbikes edging their way into the base through the maze of Hesco bags, speed bumps and blast blocks. The vehicles are being systematically inspected by teams of soldiers, each team with a dog on a leash.

  ‘Look,’ Naveed says. ‘One day that will be us.’

  They stop and watch a truck being checked. A dog sniffs the vehicle all over: jumping up onto the back, into the cabin, crawling underneath. The vehicle is okayed and allowed to move on. Naveed goes as well and is soon wandering through the busy community that has grown up outside the base.

  He breathes in the lunchtime aromas – kebabs cooking, nan being baked, chestnuts roasting on braziers. The smells are mixed with diesel fumes and dust, but are still delicious enough to cause hunger pangs. He buys a freshly baked slab of nan, and then decides on some chestnuts as well. It’s extravagant, he knows, but his mother and sister love them, too. Besides, there’s something special about today, something to celebrate.

  With the nan under one arm and the warm chestnuts cupped in a newspaper cone, Naveed heads off. As he walks he gazes about, enjoying the clatter and clutter of street life. Some way along the road he comes upon a gathering outside a shop. The people are watching a television in the shop window. Naveed can’t actually see the screen, but he doesn’t need to, for he can hear a voice that he knows very well – Malala
i Farzana.

  ‘Freedom? Oh yes, we have so much freedom in this country,’ she sneers. ‘Women are free to beg in the streets. Children are free to work their childhood away, free to be violated. Girls are free to stay at home instead of going to school, free to be married off to old men. Mothers are free to sell their children rather than watch them starve to death. Taliban are free to punish us for daring to live. Warlords free to trample all over us and steal what’s ours. Look around at your country, fellow Afghans. It is a tragedy. Allah weeps for us.’

  Naveed does look around. The crowd is mostly male, of course: just two women in burqas. A few men snigger, but most are listening. Some even nod. Naveed is heartened by this, and pops a chestnut into his mouth, savouring its taste and texture.

  But then he suddenly stops chewing.

  A black Humvee is parked on the other side of the street. The back window is down a little, and Naveed can just make out a large shadowy figure in the vehicle’s dark interior. He wants to move away, but feels riveted to the spot, like a hare in headlights. Then the window slowly rises and the Humvee drives on. As it passes by, Naveed catches a glimpse of himself reflected in the black windows.

  He swallows uneasily, Malalai’s words now magnified in his mind.

  ‘It does not have to be so, this tragedy we live. We can end it, brothers and sisters. But we have to do it together. Freedom is not just given to you. It has to be taken, and that is something only we can do as a people, as a nation! Hear me, brothers and sisters: it is time to take our freedom!’

  Chapter 22

  Over the rest of the week Naveed and Nasera go to Bagram Airfield every morning for about three hours. Jake puts them through a training program that grows increasingly intense with each day.

  ‘I know I’m pushing you guys hard,’ he says at one point. ‘But Nasera is picking things up so quick that I want to keep moving ahead while she’s so focused.’