The Khan by Saima Mir (best thriller novels of all time .txt) 📗

Over the past six months, Jia had received several calls from community leaders asking for her help. The police were losing control of the city and had no way to bring things back into line. Maybe if they had brought Akbar Khan’s killer to justice, things would have been different, but they had failed to find anything to link Nowak to the murder. Jia had listened to Mark Briscoe, still cautious about his intentions and undecided about her desire to work with him.

But when Idris had brought news of shopkeepers being targeted by Brotherhood gang members and being ‘invited’ to pay protection money, she knew the time for caution was over. The line had been crossed. The realisation of where that line was, had surprised her. She’d leaned back in her father’s chair as Idris paced up and down, turning the thought over in her head, wondering if circumstances had changed her, or simply revealed what she had always been. ‘Protection racketeering is what got my mother killed,’ her cousin said. He was angrier than Jia had ever seen him. His eyes were stone cold, his voice resolute. ‘We have to stop him. Nowak is salting our wounds. My father may be silent but we will never recover from what happened to our family. We will never flourish.’

Jia knew that Idris wasn’t alone in his anger. Tensions were rising among her people. The wives of the men who had been hurt in the latest attacks were calling Pukhtun House to speak to her. Having a woman at the helm of the Khan family gave them the courage to make direct requests. The sisterhood was growing.

So Jia had gathered her most trusted men together. As well as her cousins, Bazigh Khan was there, the only one of her father’s colleagues to be invited, being trusted by both Jia and the Jirga. And despite his not being family, Michael’s presence had also been requested. Benyamin watched quietly from a corner of the room. Since his injuries had healed, he’d been pushing for more operational involvement and he had earned his place. They stood in Akbar Khan’s study awaiting her direction.

‘We must make a final decision today about how we want to resolve this,’ she told them, ‘and follow it through. Now is the time to exact badal.’

The Jirga had displayed uncharacteristic patience in their wait for badal. The returns from The Company had filled their gaping mouths and satisfied their greed; but it also meant they had allowed their old patch to fall to the side in favour of the bigger money. While they had been eating at the table, the dogs had taken their tossed-aside bones and turned them into a feast. Revenge had been placed in the cooler long enough; it was time to serve it up. The attacks on their territory reignited their demand and they had sent a message telling Jia that her time was running out. She must act.

Jia had spent much time contemplating her options before calling this meeting. Men had been sent to gather information about Nowak’s plans. Foot soldiers had brought back intelligence that pointed to a massive haul by the gang, one so lucrative that it would allow the Brotherhood to solidify their hold on the city. Nowak was planning on selling his stash and was counting on Jia Khan’s ignorance to get away with it.

‘We know when Nowak and his men are meeting the buyers,’ Idris said. ‘We’ve fixed it so that the buyer is one of our men. He’s from the Newcastle zai. We know the guys will be driving a black Beamer and we know where they intend to make the drop. The money and goods will be exchanged at the same time, at a service station thirty miles from here. We have arranged for police to be thin on the ground.’

‘Michael, who is in charge of our cars?’ Jia said. The medical student had become one of the most trusted members of the group.

‘That would be Fat Bob,’ said Michael. Jia raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s his name,’ he added. ‘I can’t do anything about it!’

‘OK. Tell him, this Fat Bob, what we need and tell him to sort it tonight. We need two cars, and we need them to be clean,’ she said.

Bazigh Khan listened, watching the young woman carefully lay out her plans, and he thought of his brother. Akbar Khan had known his daughter would take his place, and it had come to pass just as he had predicted, the demise of the Khan and the rise of his daughter. ‘Your father kept a car especially for a job like this,’ he said. ‘It’s in the garage, untraceable.’ Headstrong and proud, he could see that Jia was smarter than her father had been. But she also knew when to ask for advice, and he was pleased with the respect she accorded him. Jia thanked her uncle for the information and arrangements were made for the car to be brought out of storage.

‘How is buying their shipment going to help us any? Whether we buy it or someone else gets it, they still get what they want,’ asked Nadeem.

Jia didn’t answer but turned to Bazigh Khan. ‘I would like you to convey to the Jirga that we are handling the situation,’ she told him. ‘Thank you for coming over this late. You must be tired. Why don’t you rest a little while we finish?’

Bazigh Khan nodded. He understood the request was a respectful way of asking him to retire, and he had been prepared for this. She was slowly disentangling him from the knotty business and allowing him to hand over his responsibilities to his sons. The loss of power would have made a lesser man angry, but Bazigh Khan knew the ways of his family; he knew they would still call upon him for counsel, just without the pressure of practical matters, and he was also glad this meant he’d be