KBL by John Weisman

Author:John Weisman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins US
Published: 2011-12-14T04:44:59+00:00

22

Kot Lakhpat Central Jail, Lahore, Pakistan

March 16, 2011, 1535 Hours Local Time

Mr. Wade lined up the three-car consular convoy so it could make a fast getaway from the jail. The RSO had been told—“ordered” was probably more accurate—to drive directly from the jail to the military section of Lahore’s international airport, where a State Department Cessna Citation twin-engine jet would be waiting. Aboard would be the American ambassador to Pakistan and two unnamed American officials.

Wade guessed the mystery guests were CIA. But it really didn’t matter, did it? Whoever they were, they would escort Ty Weaver to Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan, where he’d be checked over by an Air Force doctor, then picked up by a CIA aircraft for a direct flight to Dulles.

Mr. Wade knew the fix was in. CIA had paid a couple of mil-plus in blood money. Not directly, of course. The United States does not pay ransom. So CIA slipped the Pak government the cash, and the Paks paid the two victims’ families, although Wade figured a couple of ministers and a few folks from ISI probably took a cut, because that’s the way the Paks did business. But whatever the split may have been, the cash had been paid, the papers had been signed—rumor had it that the two families were ordered to sign by ISI—and now it was time to hustle Ty out of the country.

Wade could only shake his head in awe of American diplomacy.

Speaking of which, Lahore’s U.S. consul general, whom Wade called, though not to her face, “Her Royal Highness,” insisted on being a part of the diplomatic charade.

Of course she had: she wanted thirty seconds of face time with the ambassador, as if it would do her career any good. Her participation was a mistake. The idea of this transfer was to keep everything low key. But with the CG, it was all about grandeur, pomp, and circumstance. And so she just had to get out of the car, introduce herself to the jail administrator, and make small talk while they waited for Ty Weaver to be brought out.

Plus, she’d insisted on having her own vehicle. There was no way she was going to ride in the same car as Ty, to whom she’d been referring for the past month and a half as “that CIA criminal.”

So not only had the two-car below-the-radar transfer convoy become a three-car motorcade, but the CG had insisted that they fly the American flag on her limo.

Wade could only scratch his head in bemusement. Yanquis were not big favorites in Pakistan these days. Why not just paint “Throw rocks at me” in visibility orange on the side of the car?

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