Page 44 of The Circle of Exile
Altaf remained silent.
“Flying a plane with ADS disabled is a risk in itself. Flying it across the LoC is a risk I would not take. But there is no other way to take her back. She cannot fly with me on an official plane without her documents and an incoming stamp.”
“I understand, sir, but no. Especially not after what happened today.”
“Gilgit to Kargil is a 25-minute flight. You will land in Kargil, Captain Husain and Amaal will meet you there. Once Iram is safely with them, you will return with the flight and land here before 4.55 am.”
He began to protest but Atharva did not let him.
“And I will sit here in this room right at this place until you walk back in. Station your men inside. I will sit in front of them and wait for you to return. I give you my word.”
Altaf did not have anything to say, so Atharva bulldozed — “Captain Husain will ensure that the LoC airspace over Kargil remains open. My plane is officially returning to bring my son’s medicines and a specific brand of milk powder.”
“Bhai…” Fahad interrupted. “That sounds like a media debacle ready to happen. Momina Aslam, Awaami or your critics won’t let it go.”
“I know.”
“Flying a plane home to bring milk and medicines for a trip that has two days left?” Fahad muttered to himself.
“One day.”
“We are returning early?’
“You want me to stay and give Dilshad Khan another chance to blow us up?”
His mouth snapped shut.
“We will leave immediately after the event at Azad University tomorrow.”
Fahad nodded. “Amaal…”
“Knows about this. She is working on the spin for a later date. Let’s get this over with first. Once we are home, everything else can be taken care of, hmm?”
“Yes, bhai.”
“Altaf?”
The stoic man stared. Then nodded.
Atharva stood to his feet, pushing out of his jacket. “Go, eat. We will reconvene here at 11 again.”
“Your arm, Bhai.” Fahad was by his side, touching the dried blood sticking to his shirt and his skin underneath. “What is this?”
“I’ll have your doctor…”
“No. Nobody needs to step inside this room before Iram leaves. You and a team of your men know about it. That is enough. I’ll take care of it. Go, eat — both of you.”
The men obeyed his command without question, for a change. Atharva heard the click of the door and reached for his cuffs. He unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off, feeling the burn of skin where dried blood and fabric tore off. It was a scrape, with a little more blood than he would have liked. He walked to the mirror, assessing the damage — a laceration on the back of his left arm. The dried blood made it look bigger. The skin close to this elbow was beginning to crack and redden.
Atharva strode inside the bathroom, pulling his belt off. He needed to clean this up before it began to fester. Eight hours was more than enough time to let it stew.
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He took the quickest shower in the history of his life, SFF included. The extra minute was spent diligently cleaning the back of his bicep. He dried his body with quick movements right out of his NDA manual and pulled on a fresh pair of pants. He reached for his belt and looped it in, striding out of the bathroom to find the first aid pouch he never travelled without. And stopped short.
Iram’s eyes widened, zeroing in on his arm.
“It’s still bleeding!”
