Secrets of State by Matthew Palmer Page B

understand. And he is a dangerous opponent. It would be an error to underestimate him.”
    â€œWe are at an extremely delicate moment in both the operation and the history of our country,” the Chairman said. “We cannot afford the risk that Braithwaite might be successful in interfering with the plan. If he cannot be suborned or reasoned with, he must be removed from the equation. But I would put that decision to a vote of Council members to be recorded in the records. It is not one to be made lightly.”
    â€œSeconded,” Spears said.
    â€œAll in favor?”
    Seven hands rose in the air. Only the Librarian did not vote. He kept the records and the history, but by tradition, he did not have voting rights. Spears could hear the thin scratching sound of the Librarian’s Waterman pen recording the results of the vote in the black ledger.
    The hands were lowered. There was a pause. Spears recognized it for what it was. A moment of silence.
    The Chairman looked over at John Weeder, who nodded his understanding.

LAHORE, PAKISTAN
    MARCH 31

    K amran Khan’s days of sweeping the floors at the villa in Lahore were over. He had not yet, however, been assigned to an operational unit. Instead, he waited. He prayed. And he practiced patience. Shortly after he and the HeM leader had returned from India, the villa’s steward had moved him from the communal bunkhouse to his own room on the second floor of the main building. It was a mark of Masood’s favor. But Khan had not seen the leader since their return from India, and he did not know what Masood had planned for him.
    He had hoped that the physical prowess he had displayed in India would open the door to jihad. Khan could feel the weight of his mission pressing on his heart, and that mission had nothing to do with a broom and a dustpan. It seemed, however, that there were still tests to pass. One afternoon, a battle-scarred veteran of the Kashmir wars had taken Khan into the mountains to see if he could handle a weapon. Khan could shoot, and he proved himself to be a more than adequate marksman with both rifle and pistol. Most of the tests were pen and paper. Some of it was religious exegesis exploring his depth of knowledge in the study of the Quran and the Hadith. Much of it, however, seemed to be standardized intelligence testing with logic puzzles and analogies. He was also asked to write a number of essays, including one on the history of Kashmir and another on the meaning of jihad. Khan breezed through the tests. He was smart and he knew it.
    Ten days after the fight in the guest house in India, the steward told him that he had been summoned to lunch with Masood Dar. Khan changed into clean clothes and combed his hair, but he left his beard untrimmed as a mark of his piety. He knew Masood would be pleased by that.
    The HeM leader typically ate in his study on the third floor, the same room where he had interviewed Khan before agreeing to take him on the trip to India. Masood was wearing a white
shalwar kameez
, the national dress of Pakistan with the pajama-like trousers and a long tunic slit at the sides. He sat cross-legged on the floor in bare feet. Khan removed his sandals and left them on a rack by the door. He sat on a cushion across from Masood and bowed slightly.
    â€œAs-salamu alaykuma.”
    â€œWa alaykumu s-salam.”
    The steward served the meal, small plates of traditional Punjabi dishes. Masood was a strict vegetarian so there was no tandoori. Instead, the meal featured
sarson da saag
made with green mustard leaves and eaten with corn-flour roti,
dal makhani
—a dish of lentils with cream—and a thick stew of red beans and rice called
rajma
.
    Khan ate sparingly and drank weak tea, while Masood consumed impressive quantities of the excellent food and drank yogurt spiked with mint and salt. Khan would have eaten more, but he felt self-conscious as Masood seemed to be examining him as he would a bug under a