Blood Ties
Indicates *Translated from the Urdu*
by Ermintrude
Prologue—Sibi, on the Eastern side of the Bolan Pass in Pakistan, on the way from Afghanistan.
A line of trucks slowly made their way through the dusty streets of a village on the eastern side of the Bolan Pass. A beggar sat against a building in the shade and watched the convoy pass. He was clothed in a turban and voluminous dusty and worn robes. His feet wore old but surprisingly serviceable sandals. His face was bearded and lined from a hard life, but his eyes were bright and missed nothing. In front of him was a worn begging bowl, and beside him was a much-used and patched wooden crutch. As the trucks lumbered by, he pulled out a small notebook and a worn pencil and made some notes.
He waited several minutes after the convoy had passed, and the dust had settled, then he carefully tucked the notebook and pencil away within his robes. He gathered his alms bowl and hoisted his crutch and slowly made his way to a hotel several blocks away from the village square. He waved at the concierge as he passed and stepped behind the main desk into the room beyond. Inside a young male telephone operator manned an ancient plug-and-wire switchboard. The beggar nodded at the operator, and passed the man some money. The operator passed the beggar a sheet of paper and the beggar wrote down a telephone number, complete with country code. The young operator dialed it—made sure the connection had gone through and handed the headset to the beggar. The beggar heard the telephone ringing on the other end.
“International Federal Film. How may I help you?”
“I need to get a message to the Scarecrow in Washington, D.C. please.”
“What message do you wish to leave?”
“Tell him that the Beggar has seen hot cargo coming in and he needs to come to Sibi near the Bolan Pass or else the club will gain another member.”
“I’ll see that he gets the message.”
“Please expedite it, this is urgent.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Thank you.”
November 14, 2008 11:26 am | 
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