Javed came to the microphone to thank all the speakers and the seminar participants. As soon as he finished, the Muslim speakers quickly left the platform and led their followers out of the room. When Blake stepped off the platform, he was surrounded by reporters.

Joseph saw that Paul had been detained by Javed on the platform, so he moved quickly toward Blake. Soon he was able to hear the American's flat accent above the noise in the room.

"Yes, our organization is supporting the lawsuit against the blasphemy law. We believe that fundamental human rights are at stake."

"You see the lawsuit as a way of defending international law in Pakistan?" Khalida Ali, the woman reporter, was questioning Blake.

"Certainly. The right of freedom of religion or belief is one of the most important civil rights in international law."

"And how is that right defined in international law?"

Joseph tried to signal Paul, but Paul and Javed were still engaged in an animated conversation of their own.

Blake raised his eyes, as if he were reading the definition out of some corner of his mind. "The right to freedom of religion or belief is defined in Article 18 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and also in Article 18 of the Covenant on Civil and Political Rights as the freedom to change one's religion or belief and the freedom, either alone or with others and in public or private, to manifest one's religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance."

"By supporting the lawsuit against the blasphemy law, you're supporting the enforcement of this international right to freedom of religion?" Ms. Ali asked.

"Yes. Of course."

"And this right to freedom includes the right to change one's religion."

"Yes"

Paul had finally looked toward Joseph and was coming off the platform.

"So, the lawsuit is really supporting the right to convert Muslims to Christianity."

When Blake realized where Ms. Ali had been leading him, he flushed and sweat began to break out on his forehead. "Our organization does not support proselytizing anywhere by the members of any religious tradition," he asserted. "We respect every religious tradition."

"But international law supports the right to proselytize, doesn't it?" Ms. Ali now had Blake by the balls, and he knew it.

"International law doesn't specifically support proselytizing," he stammered.

"But international law does support the right of missionaries to convert others," she pressed.

Paul was now close enough to hear the question, and Joseph was relieved to hear his calm voice taking charge of the situation.

"Ms. Ali, the petition I have filed with the Supreme Court argues that the blasphemy law is unconstitutional because of the equal protection clauses of the Pakistani constitution. The details of the arguments in the lawsuit were distributed to the press and are available from Mr. Javed, if you would like a copy. Our seminar today, however, was not about this petition. We were discussing support for the rights of religious minorities in Pakistan."

Ms. Ali glared at Paul, her eyes dark with scorn. "I know very well what the seminar was about. I listened carefully. And I noted the comments of Mr. Blake in addition to his response to my questions."

"In your article I hope you'll focus on the Muslim speakers rather than on Mr. Blake's comments," Paul replied. "An open discussion of the issues would be good for the press as well as for the people of Pakistan."

She didn't reply, but smiled tightly before turning to leave. The other reporters had already drifted away, leaving Joseph with Blake and Paul.

"Joseph," Paul said, turning to him. "Take Blake to the hotel and stay with him until I join you. I'm going with Javed to a meeting. It shouldn't take more than an hour. Ezra and his friends will come with me."

Joseph nodded, as Javed walked toward them. He was scowling and puffing vigorously on a cigarette held tightly between his large fingers.

Paul saw now that it had been a mistake to have Blake speak. Even Blake realized that. He'd shifted the focus of the seminar away from support by Muslims for human rights in Pakistan to international support for religious freedom as a fundamental human right. That might have gone down well with many of the Christians who were present, but they didn't understand how important it was to keep Muslim leaders allied with them.

"Let's go," Javed said curtly. Paul fell in behind Javed, who strode quickly out of the hotel and flagged a yellow taxi. Ezra was waiting in a black and yellow taxi with his friends. Paul signalled to him to follow, then opened the door on one side of the yellow taxi while Javed got in the other. They rode in silence, Javed smoking one cigarette after another, until they came to the hotel where Javed was staying. Javed paid the driver, picked up his key at the desk, and led Paul up to his room. Paul stopped for a moment to speak with Ezra, who was happy to wait downstairs.

Once they were in Javed's hotel room, Javed shed his jacket, loosened his tie, and dropped into the chair by the window. Paul took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"I knew that Blake would get us into trouble!" Javed fumed. He took out his cigarettes, put one in his lips, and opened his box of matches only to discover that he'd used the last one. Throwing the box in disgust toward the waste paper basket, he got up and rummaged in the drawers in the dresser along the wall until he found matches. He lit his cigarette, inhaled deeply, and then sat down heavily in the chair again, blowing smoke fiercely out of his broad nostrils.

"A lot depends on what the reporters write and their editors allow," Paul answered. "Perhaps it won't be too bad."

"Khalida Ali will make sure that it's bad enough. She wants to make a name for herself, and to do that she's got to write controversial stuff. But the only kind of controversial material her editor will allow is what the more incendiary mullahs want to hear." Javed got up and began to pace the room.

"Perhaps you should call her editor," Paul suggested. "Or maybe we could get Senator Khan's secretary to call."

"That's worth a try," Javed said. As he moved quickly toward the phone, the glass in the window shattered and they both heard the retort of a high powered rifle. Javed fell heavily to the floor, and Paul rolled off the bed and lay still. Paul heard the sound of a car accelerating and then footsteps running up the stairs. "Javed," he called out softly. "Are you OK?"

"They only nicked me in the arm, but it hurts like hell. It's a good thing I turned to make that call when I did, or I'd be a dead man."

Paul got up to open the door, and Ezra and his friends rushed into the room. After they were sure that Paul was all right, Ezra picked up the phone and told the man at the desk to call a doctor.

Javed was sitting up on the floor now, his back propped against the bed, holding his left arm in his right hand. Paul pulled back the covers of the bed, slipped a pillow case off one of the pillows, and kneeling beside Javed tied the pillow case in a tourniquet around his bicep above the wound. "That should stop the bleeding. It looks like the bullet went right through the muscle without hitting the bone. It's probably embedded in the wall somewhere." He looked at the wall across from the window and spotted near the ceiling the small hole in the plaster. "That will help the police identify the weapon."

"The police!" Javed snorted. "They'll be sorry the bastard missed my heart. It may even have been a police officer who fired the shot."

Paul turned to Ezra. "Ask at the desk for another room. We're expecting visitors any moment, and I don't want them to see us like this." Turning back to Javed, Paul said, "You stay here until the doctor comes. I'll make excuses for your absence."

In a few minutes Ezra returned with the key to the room across the hall. Paul left Ezra with Javed and moved to the other room with Ezra's friends. This room was on the interior of the hotel and without a window so there was no danger, but Paul was glad Ezra and the other men were with him. He didn't want to be alone now. He regretted, however, not getting a cigarette from Javed before leaving him in the other room. Paul had quit smoking, but he wanted a cigarette now. He picked up the phone, called the desk to be sure that his guests were directed to the right room, and then sat down to wait.

Two Ahmadi leaders were coming to visit with him. They had informants at the seminar who would have reported to them immediately. If they were satisfied, they would provide some financial support. Paul hoped the informants hadn't stayed around long enough to hear the questioning of Blake by the reporters.

Paul was relieved that Javed wasn't seriously injured, but he was worried both by what Khalida Ali might write and by the attempt on Javed's life. They couldn't afford to lose Muslim support. If the issue was presented to the public as a protest by Christians against Muslims, they were sure to be attacked by mobs stirred up by fanatical mullahs. Paul remembered vividly the burning, killing and looting that took place in 1992 in the Christian colonies of Karachi after the Babri mosque in India was destroyed by Hindu fanatics. The thought of that happening again was terrifying.

He got up and paced back and forth beside the bed. Suddenly, realizing that Javed wouldn't remember to call Senator Khan's secretary, Paul reached for the phone and asked the receptionist at the front desk of the hotel to place a call for him. A few minutes later the phone rang and he heard the voice of Senator Khan's secretary. "Hello, Mr. Thanvi. I'm glad I caught you. I just wanted you to know that Henry Blake was questioned after the seminar today by Ms. Ali of The Daily News. She led him away from the topic of the seminar to say a few things about international law and the right of religious freedom, and these comment might be included in her article. It would be good, if you called her editor and clarified the purpose of the seminar and what was said."

Paul listened as Thanvi thanked him for the call. "We all appreciate Senator Khan's support and are grateful for your assistance," Paul replied. Putting down the phone, he wondered what Thanvi really thought about the seminar strategy. Obviously Senator Khan hoped to appeal both to religious Muslims, as a defender of the Qur'an, and to more secular Muslims, as a man of moderation and reason. It was a delicate balancing act. But Paul was sure that Thanvi's call to the editor of The Daily News would make a difference in what was printed tomorrow. One move in the game for our side, he thought, remembering his conversation with Hassan three days earlier.

He stepped into the bathroom and used the toilet but didn't bother to wipe his hands on a towel. He hoped the hotel manager would let them use the room without charging them, and he didn't want to provide any excuse for imposing a fee.

Then he heard a knock at the door. Apparently, the Ahmadis had arrived.