“Sabera remembered overhearing her uncle demanding to know why Maryam’s parents weren’t doing more to help.Her father simply said that wasn’t an option, though no one ever explained why.It made Sabera more interested in delving into her mother’s background, including her mother’s extracurricular market activities.”
“Which I’m guessing proved to be enlightening?”
“Maryam’s family emigrated from Afghanistan to England when she was a young girl,” Westwig explains.“Father opened a medical practice, his brothers established various business dealings.Basically, the entire Tabrizi family made London their new home.Except one day, Maryam meets Saber Shinwari, who’s a doctorate student at Oxford.They fall in love and Maryam returns to Kabul with her new husband, despite her family’s disapproval.
“Then the Taliban seized control, and Maryam and her young son fled to London for safety.They spent five years living with her family, until the Taliban fell in 2001.After which time, Maryam declared she’d be returning to her husband in Kabul.Except her family strenuously objected.If she went, that was that—they were cutting all ties.Obviously, she made her decision and they made theirs.To the best of Sabera’s knowledge, her mother never saw or spoke to her family again.
“But this is what the London Tabrizis didn’t know—Maryam wasn’t just returning to Afghanistan out of love, but out of duty.While in the UK, she’d been recruited by MI6.They needed her to return to Kabul and go to work.”
“So Sabera’s mom is like a female James Bond?”Now I’m totally enthralled.I wonder what it meant to Sabera to learn her own mother was some kind of super spy.Isn’t that what all children secretly fantasize about, that their parents aren’t the tired, boring people they appear to be?
Westwig shrugs more philosophically.“According to our MI6 contacts, Maryam Shinwari’s orders weren’t exactly high risk—essentially, she was to resume her old life of mixing and mingling with the Afghan elite.Between her husband’s respected position and his family’s expansive commercial dealings, they routinely hobnobbed with high-ranking ministry officials, other wealthy businessmen, and society’s movers and shakers.As you may know, Afghanistan’s government had quite a reputation for corruption.MI6 wanted Maryam Shinwari to get the lay of the land—gather up intelligence on who was cozying up with whom, which government ministers were suddenly flush with cash, et cetera.Basically, who could be bought, who could be sold, and who could potentially be blackmailed.”
I nod thoughtfully.I can see where that kind of insider information would be of interest to a spy agency, especially one with historical involvement in the country.“So what happened?”
Both men stare at me blankly.
I wave a hand to move their story along.“Sabera’s mother got discovered?Someone else also noticed that she was passing notes in the market, her husband became angry, it all went to hell?Come on.What?”
“Maryam Shinwari contracted cancer,” Westwig states slowly.“She became seriously ill.Then she died.That’s what happened.”
I frown, once more confused.“Then why would Sabera be approaching you all these years later?There must’ve been something more going on.What did she want?”
“The name of her mother’s handler,” Kurtz provides.
“Why?”
Both men exchange glances.
“Oh, come on, I thought we were over that!”
“Sabera implied she might have come across some valuable intel after her mother died,” Kurtz concedes slowly.“She was willing to pass it along, but only to her mother’s original contact.”
“Valuable intel?After the old government is gone and the Taliban is once again in charge?”I’m not buying it.“What could a woman have possibly learned at a cocktail party a decade ago that would still have relevance now?”
Beside me, Daryl nods with matching skepticism.
Interestingly enough, both men shrug in agreement.
“We pushed,” Westwig states.“Sabera demurred.She’d talk to her mother’s handler and her mother’s handler only.In the end, we agreed to at least ask around.If we could come up with a name from our own contacts, and that person felt like reaching out to Sabera, that would be on them.No harm, no foul.She agreed.We started making inquiries.”
“And that’s when things got more interesting,” Kurtz interjects.“Sabera Ahmadi wasn’t exactly telling the truth, the whole the truth, and nothing but the truth.”
“Sabera’s mother wasn’t actually a spy?Or a spy for the British?”
“Oh, Maryam Shinwari checked out.What Sabera failed to mention is that she hadn’t just observed her mother’s activities, she’d gotten into the game herself.”
“Sabera is also an MI6 agent?”I can barely contain myself.
Westwig shakes his head.“She didn’t work for the Brits, butfor us.Sabera approached the US embassy with her language skills.In turn, they recommended her to the US military.Though very quickly, the powers that be recognized she had an even more interesting and valuable skill.She was a natural-born cryptanalyst.”
I blink my eyes several times: “A code breaker?”
“She created ciphers, cracked ciphers, invented new ciphers,” Westwig explains.“The people we talked to said they’d never seen anything like it.She could remember almost anything, and seemingly recognize complex patterns in a single glance.Her skills quickly became the stuff of legend.”
Daryl gives me a meaningful glance.Suddenly the condition of the townhouse walls made much more sense.Sabera wasn’t just a linguist.She was a riddle master.Meaning…?
“Hang on a second,” I interject.“If Sabera was working for the US military, why wasn’t she evacuated when Kabul fell?Or on your radar screen now?You said you had no previous knowledge of her.”
