My plan was to cross into India at Wagah that unfortunate Punjabi village designated by the British in 1947 as the frontier between India and Pakistan. From there I intended to move steadily eastward to Bengal and Orissa. I had three weeks of holidays and was eager to get out of the Land of the Pure.
A week before I left, my boss, a soft-spoken Swiss lawyer, instructed me to book a ticket to Karachi.
“What’s up?” I asked.
He muttered a bit and shuffled the papers on his desk. He started speaking then stopped. He let go a sigh before telling me that we had two ‘security cases’ that needed extraction.
“You’re the lucky volunteer who accompanies them.” His front teeth had a slight gap that made his smile hard to resist.
He filled me in on the details.
They were officials in the Chinese Embassy. One was Head…
View original post 1,217 more words