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  Agency Rules:

  Never an Easy Day at the Office

  By

  Khalid Muhammad

  Copyright

  Agency Rules: Never an Easy Day at the Office

  ISBN: 9789699972027

  Copyright © Khalid Muhammad. 2014

  All Rights Reserved.

  Khalid Muhammad has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  “You are free to go to your mosque, temples and churches,” was the refrain when Pakistan was born in 1947, but that all changed after the first Afghan war when Pakistan was plunged into a sectarian and extremist battleground. It all changed again when Karachi was set ablaze by gangland violence that forced a hapless government to take direction from the powerful Pakistan Army.

  From the crowded streets of Karachi to the barren plains of the lawless tribal region, a boy transforms himself from an average man into a precision soldier and superior intelligence operative bringing the fight to the Taliban’s backyard. Kamal Khan, born and raised in the conflict ridden tribal area, forfeits his wealthy industrialist family background to serve his nation in a war that will define Pakistan’s future.

  The cold adrenaline, the fear of the unknown, the shadowy hands, and the cunning that surpasses a Sicilian mind... the game of espionage in South Asia comes to life in Agency Rules, the spy thriller that takes the battle to the Taliban in Pakistan.

  When the world hears Pakistan mentioned in the media, the first thought is terrorism, which sadly has become part of our national narrative since 9/11. But Pakistan is so much more than the narrative that is presented around the world – it is home to a wonderful, talented people that want nothing more than peace in their country, with their neighbors and respect in the international community, but are deceived by its own “leaders,” whether political or religious.

  Agency Rules – Never an Easy Day at the Office takes you behind the headlines into the events that created today’s Pakistan. It is a tough look at a nation in conflict from the eyes of a young man, Kamal Khan, who is looking for his own identity and place in society. Kamal is raised in privilege, but leaves it all behind as a man to serve his nation. Once in that environment, he finds himself embroiled in a complex narrative that shifts with the fiery speeches of their anointed political and religious leaders.

  Dedication

  To all those who supported and encouraged me throughout the process of creating and writing Agency Rules, I wish I could list you all but there would be too many names.

  Thank You!

  Chapter 1

  Nine months ago, the Muslim League government had won a surprising mandate across Pakistan on a manifesto that was full of promises that would be difficult, if not impossible, to deliver. One of their core promises was returning Karachi, Pakistan’s largest metropolis and economic hub, back to a peaceful existence.

  Since his party’s election victory, Prime Minister Azam Shah had struggled with difficult questions on the actual implementation of his manifesto that had gotten them elected, but had never seemed to provide any clear or direct answers. One thing he had clearly demonstrated was his intense love for the cameras and media spotlight during his political events. As the opposition leader in the previous government, he had taken great pleasure in highlighting the failings and bad decisions of the sitting government. Today, however, was a different story as his government was in power and he was regularly in the hot seat. During a tour of a children’s hospital in his native Multan, the Prime Minister was again posturing for the media. As the visit drew to a close, the newly minted Prime Minister sauntered to the podium as if he had won an award, unserious and jovial, until a staunch critic of the government posed a difficult question.

  “Prime Minister, you have occupied the most powerful seat in the country for almost nine months now. Do you not see it as a failure that your government has not drafted any policy to address the violence in Karachi?”

  It was not the first time it has been asked, but it was the first time the word ‘failure’ had been introduced into the public debate. As he looked around the gaggle of journalists, each thrusting forward to capture the next words on their recorders, he knew this would be the lead headline for the rest of the day, opening the door for opposition and coalition parties to criticize his inaction.

  He measured his response, almost rehearsing the words in his mind before speaking. “I think it’s too early to use words like failure. When we were not the ruling party, our information was limited to what the previous government wanted us to know. Now, we have more intelligence about the situation, and I am briefed daily.”

  Journalists started firing follow-up questions at him before he could complete his response. He held up his hands to try to bring the situation back under control.

  “Just a minute, may I finish my response before you start your follow-ups?” he asked, trying to assert his position, but even he knew he had less than thirty seconds to finish and get away before he was cornered by the wolves stalking their prey.

  “The government has had several meetings with all the stakeholders, both collectively and individually, over the past few months to ascertain the best course of action,” he continued hesitantly, knowing he had been repeating this for months now. He knew he wouldn’t win any favors by repeating himself. Just then, he felt a hand on his side and saw a note placed before him on the podium. Quickly scanning the note, he flashed a semi-smile. “Next week, we will bring everyone together to decide the final course of action.”

  He moved hastily from the podium to his waiting motorcade, effectively ending the press conference and avoiding any additional questions. As the motorcade pulled away from the hospital, the Prime Minister looked beaten to his party colleagues. He had not been ready to discuss the Karachi policy, which he knew had not been formulated, much less ready to finalize by next week.

  It was going to be a difficult week for Prime Minister Shah and his spokespeople. Pandora’s box had been opened.

  Since the Prime Minister’s briefing, the political parties had taken turns hurling barbs at each other in the media, leveraging the lack of decision-making from the Prime Minister’s Secretariat. Rumors of operations and punitive action made their rounds on the evening talk shows, as the death toll rose in the city. The provincial government had pulled out all the stops to empower law enforcement agencies to take a heavy hand to criminals and terrorists, collectively known as miscreants. The miscreants in the city had become emboldened by the police ineffectiveness, and the provincial government’s unwillingness to call out the armed forces to return Karachi to a city of peace.

  Inside the National Assembly’s cabinet meeting room, a group of select representatives of the federal and provincial governments and the armed forces came together to find a solution. Around the table sat the political leadership of the province, heads of various law enforcement agencies, the intelligence services and armed forces, with the Federal Interior Minister chairing the meeting. The politica
l leadership was divided between increasing the mandate of the law enforcement agencies and calling the army into the city.

  The debate spanned hours, with each side arguing the benefits of their positions, before the Interior Minister finally turned to General Ali, who, along with his colleagues, had thus far been a spectator at the meeting.

  “General Ali,” said the Federal Interior Minister, as the room descended into pin drop silence. “What if we call out the army?”

  General Amjad Ali, the Chief of Army Staff, was the highest-ranking military officer in the country. Over his two-year tenure, he had gained international support for his extreme patience with the civilian government and was the person that every diplomat knew held all the power, no matter who sat in the Prime Minister’s chair. Having sat in numerous meetings like this one, his patience with the civilian government’s political posturing had worn thin, but his respect for the uniform he wore had kept him from bitch slapping all of them. Before the meeting, he had warned the Interior Minister not to put him in a position where he would have to undermine the political leadership in the province or the nation’s capital. It irked him, therefore, that his advice had been ignored.

  “Minister sahib, you know that the army is not the solution to this problem,” said the General, pulling a cigarette from the pack of Marlboros in front of him. The room sat anxiously awaiting the General’s next words.

  He shook the box of matches, echoing in the large hall, before pulling a match and running it across the side. The smell of tobacco mixed with the sulfur in the air, as he took a long drag. “The army is a broadsword that is used to cut down anything in their path. You don’t want us deployed in Karachi.”

  “General, if the Prime Minister gives the order to send in the army…” said the Federal Interior Minister, but the General put his hand up to stop him before he completed the sentence.

  “Why would the Prime Minister make such an order, Mr. Chaudhry?” the General leaned forward to put out the barely smoked cigarette. “Would you advise him to do such a foolish thing? Are you tired of being in government already?” A barely noticeable sneer crept across his battle-worn face.

  The Muslim League’s eight months in government had seen them struggle with every decision on how to solve Pakistan’s problems. Ahsan Chaudhry, the Federal Interior Minister, was a Harvard graduate, but inexperienced for the position that he held. He was, however, extremely close to Prime Minister Azam Shah and many felt that he would make the decision for the sitting government.

  “General Ali, I don’t like your tone or implication,” retorted Chaudhry. “The Prime Minister takes recommendations from every stakeholder and then makes his decision.”

  The General grimly looked at him, as a father would his child after catching them in a lie, and turned to speak with the director general of the Inter Services Intelligence. After a few minutes of muted conversation between the two, General Ali leaned back in his chair to think for a moment. Pulling a second cigarette from the pack, he tapped it against the table.

  “Minister sahib,” the General started, as the air filled with the smell of sulfur again. “There is no media here to record this and we will all assume that no one will speak with them about the internal conversations held here.” He shook the match to extinguish the flame and dropped it into the ashtray, now overflowing with barely-smoked cigarettes. “You all understand that the army would be the most extreme response to the situation, correct? That calling the military into the streets of an urban center will lead to more problems than solutions?”

  The General didn’t pause for an answer. “I tasked the intelligence services two months ago to develop a list of key individuals involved in the unrest in Karachi. They have provided me with a list of over 1000 people, including politicians, business people, bureaucrats and police, that are involved in the activities, support, financing and management of roughly 5 gangs.”

  “I take great offense to the implication that my police officers or politicians would be involved in the unrest in Karachi, General,” sputtered Murad Khan, Chief Minister Sindh. “These are baseless allegations that have been made repeatedly by the media. We are not involved! Why have these lists not been shared with our government? Why were we not made aware that these activities were being carried out by the intelligence services?”

  “CM sahib, you don’t wear a uniform, so these lists,” the General held up the file in the air, “are none of your business. This is routine activity for the intelligence services to identify those who are involved in anti-state activities. We are not formally calling them anti-state, but we do know these people now.”

  “Your intelligence is faulty,” declared the Inspector General Police and Chief Minister in unison.

  “These are just hit lists of people that the General wants to eliminate,” continued the Inspector General Police.

  The General ignored the interruption. “These documents provide us with a complete list of those people involved, but be clear on a few things. You don’t want us in Karachi. We don’t make mistakes, no matter what those sitting around this table and in the media would like to think. We will hunt them down. We will find them in their hiding places. We will kill them. We ask that you not consider this option because we don’t want Pakistanis and Karachites looking over their shoulders wondering if the army is coming for them. No city can function in fear.”

  The room buzzed with discontent at the General’s statement. The provincial and federal leadership clearly wanted the lists to be shared, and they began to voice their demands loudly and insistently.

  It didn’t take long for the situation to escalate to counter-accusations that the ISI was behind it all to destabilize the new government.

  Chief Minister Khan, letting his anger boil over, yelled at the General. “You just want the situation to get worse so that you can take the country over again! That is what the Pakistan Army does!”

  At this sally, the Corps Commander Karachi leaned forward in his seat, flipped on the microphone before him and, without looking at the General, said, “And whose fault is that? We are sitting here today watching the largest urban center in Pakistan burn because the political leadership can’t stop blaming everyone else long enough to find a solution!”

  Lieutenant General Bilal Siddiqui, Corps Commander Karachi, had spent months in meetings with this same group of provincial leaders discussing the same problem. He had seen the in-fighting between the various political stakeholders, the ineffectiveness of the law enforcement agencies and the lack of resolve from the courts to take any real action against those who committed these crimes, much less any action to take out the ones who masterminded the activities. In past meetings, he had held his tongue, but the behavior of the Chief Minister was beyond what was acceptable. “I have repeatedly told you all that there are rogue forces in your parties and organizations that are benefiting from this unrest. Have you taken any action to remove these people? No! Now, you want to create a conspiracy theory that the military wants to allow this to continue?” the Lt. General was contemptuous. “No, sir. I will not allow that.”

  Chaudhry waited to make sure that the General had completed his point, before asking, “Do you have any other options to resolve this problem? We have empowered the police and paramilitary but have not been able to shut down the gang warfare.”

  “We have a number of options,” said the Lt. General. “We know who is involved and we know how to stop them. Since the political leadership, police and paramilitary forces have not been able to get this under control, we don’t feel a need to share this information with anyone at this table.”

  A stunned silence fell across the room, shocked that the Lt. General was unwilling to disclose potential options for discussion among the civilian government. Chaudhry was the first to break the silence, hoping to stave off another round of heated accusations.

  “General, you need to share the options with us otherwise we cannot decide a proper course of action.”

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p; The Corps Commander looked towards his commanding officer, who remained maddeningly casual, before turning back to Chaudhry. “Frankly, Minister sahib, army command does not feel the need to open that discussion here.”

  “You do understand that the Prime Minister and Chief Minister needs to approve any action?” Chaudhry sensed that he had lost control of the situation. “How do you carry out what you are planning without their approval?”

  The room fell into deafening silence as the Lt. General briefly conferred with the uniformed army personnel sitting around him. The political leadership strained to decipher the low murmur of the private conference, unsuccessfully. In a mockery of a synchronized event, the leadership sat back in their chairs just as the uniformed members turned back to the table.

  General Ali sat forward, turned his microphone on again. “If we were to go to the Prime Minister for approval for all our actions inside the country, we would not have most of the intelligence that we have. You need to eliminate the thought from your mind that the Pakistan Army operates under the purview of the Prime Minister or any other member of government.”

  The room erupted with objections and accusations that the military was operating as a state within a state, but General Ali chuckled at the accusations, simply stating, “Why should today be any different than any other day in Pakistan?”

  * * *

  Five kilometers down the road from the National Assembly stood a nondescript building that housed Pakistan’s premier spy agency. Anyone standing outside the gates would never know that this was where one of the world’s most feared intelligence services was based.

  Inside, in a cold, long room furnished only with a mahogany table, twenty men had gathered for a briefing that would change their military careers.