After he had finished talking with Paul, Hassan quickly dialed Javed's number. He was reassured to hear Javed's deep voice answer.

"Javed, this is Hassan."

"I'm glad to know you're OK," Javed replied.

"I'm fine. But I'm concerned about the men who were taken by the Security Forces yesterday."

"I'm arranging to get them out. Want to come along?"

"Of course. But we need to go as quickly as possible."

"I'll be at your office in thirty minutes."

"O.K."

Hassan put the phone back on the receiver and went over to one of the paintings on the wall of his office. It was a landscape painting of the mountains near Islamabad. The snow on the peaks was white against the dark evergreen trees on the slopes. It was an idyllic setting, so unlike the reality of life in the cities of Pakistan.

He swung the painting away from the wall on the hinges attaching it and began to spin the dial of the wall safe behind it. They would need money at the camp of the Security Forces. Javed would have arranged for some cash, but Hassan thought he'd better bring some as well. He opened the safe and took out several packs of bills. It was fortunate that a client had just paid him in cash.

Cash payments were common in Pakistan, because that meant a lawyer didn't have to report the income to the tax authorities. Hardly anyone paid taxes in Pakistan. Lawyers had to pay some, because it was obvious that they were making money. But Hassan figured he only paid a quarter of the tax that he owed, and that was more than most lawyers paid. It wasn't right, but that was the way it was.

He closed the safe and locked it again, then swung the painting back over it. He was surprised at how calm he was. Even the loss of his house hadn't bothered him as much as he would have expected. Maybe this is how soldiers feel in battle. Once they get over the initial fear, there's a kind of momentum that takes over. You become numb to the consequences.

He put the money in his briefcase and then sat at his desk for several minutes, dictating letters to his secretary. It would be handy to be living out of his office for awhile, because he had lots of work to catch up on. Fortunately, so far none of his business clients had deserted him.

After about twenty minutes, Hassan picked up his briefcase and left the office. Once in the lobby he waited only about five minutes before he saw Javed pull up in a taxi. Leaving the security of the building, he walked quickly to the street and got in the taxi. He knew the two other men in the back seat from other work he'd done for the Lawyers' Committee of the Human Rights Commission.

Javed was sitting in the front seat. He directed the taxi out of the downtown area toward East Karachi, where the Security Forces had their camp. Then he looked over his shoulder at the three men in the back. "After we arrive, we'll identify ourselves and ask to see the commanding officer. I'll do the talking. I've got some small change to get past the security guards, if necessary."

The men remained silent for the rest of the ride. They had all done this before and knew what to expect. Generally, the commanding officer denied that there were any prisoners there or at least that the prisoners they were looking for were there. The officer would probably offer them tea. They would chat and a package of money would be put on or by the table without a word being said about it. If the commanding officer picked up the package and put it away, they knew they had an agreement. If he left it alone, they would need to offer more money.

The taxi was moving more slowly now, winding its way into a neighborhood that Hassan had never entered before. There were a few warehouses, several small shops and garages, and dilapidated houses squeezed in between them. Finally, the taxi stopped in front of a high gate. Javed stepped out and spoke to the guard who had opened a small window in the gate. After a few moments, Hassan saw Javed reach into his pocket and take out several bills, which he handed to the guard. Then the gate swung open and the taxi drove in.

Several vehicles belonging to the Security Forces were parked inside. While the guard made a call on his telephone, Hassan and the other two lawyers got out of the taxi and joined Javed. The gate shut behind them with a bang that gave Hassan a start. This was the most dangerous part of their visit. The commanding officer of the Security Forces could arrest them and lock them up in the prison. Then they might simply disappear. It had been known to happen.

Hassan had told his secretary where he was going and that, if he didn't return in two hours, to report his absence to the police. But even more importantly, he had instructed his secretary to call his uncle. Hassan's uncle was a very powerful man because he was very wealthy. He didn't agree with Hassan's work with the Human Rights Commission, but he would do all he could to protect a member of his family. Usually all it took to get protection in Karachi was money.

The guard put down the telephone and then motioned to the four lawyers to follow him. He led them towards the front door of one of the three buildings in the compound. The building they were heading towards would be the office and officer quarters. The guard at the door hardly looked at them as they walked past him and entered. Just inside the front door, they were shown into a receiving room. It's likely that they have visitors all the time, Hassan mused. This is basically a business venture. The Security Forces must make a lot of money by arresting people and accepting bribes for their release.

They had been seated only a few minutes when a short, thick man entered the room accompanied by two aides. The three men were all wearing green uniforms. They looked like commandos out of a movie. They know it's all a game, Hassan thought. They're dressed for the part.

The lawyers all stood when the officer and his aides entered the room. Javed spoke for the group. "Officer, my name is Javed. I've come with my colleagues representing the families of men we believe are being held here. We hope to see about their release."

The officer shook their hands, but he didn't offer his name. That was standard practice. "Please sit down, gentlemen. Who are you looking for?"

"Several men were picked up after a disturbance at the Holiday Inn. We think that eleven or twelve of them are being held here."

The officer smiled, showing an even row of bright white teeth. He was very relaxed and obviously quite well educated. Moreover, he seemed to enjoy his position. Hassan had expected someone less sophisticated.

"I don't believe we have anyone here that you might be looking for," the commanding officer replied, "but we shall see."

"Thank you," Javed continued. After they sat down, Javed took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Would you care for one?" he said to the commanding officer.

"Thank you very much," the officer responded, tapping a cigarette from the pack.

Javed passed the pack around to the officer's aides and then offered it to the lawyers. Everyone except Hassan took a cigarette. One of the aides took out a lighter and lit the cigarette of the commanding officer and then his cigarette. He offered his lighter to the lawyers, who borrowed it and lit their cigarettes.

Hassan watched them all light up. This is part of the ritual of complicity, he reflected. We're all equals now. They aren't criminals, and we aren't lawyers representing victims. We're just men doing business.

The commanding officer spoke briefly to one of his aides who then left the room. "As I said, gentlemen, I don't believe we have anyone you might want, but I've asked my assistant to check. Would you like some tea while you are waiting?"

Another aid left the room to prepare the tea. But before he returned, the aide who had gone to check on the list of names Javed had given him entered the room and handed the commanding officer a piece of paper. At the same time Hassan reached into his briefcase and pulled out a package, which he placed in front of the commanding officer on the table. There was silence for a moment, as the men smoked and the officer perused the paper in front of him. If he doesn't do something quickly, Hassan thought, we'll need to offer him more money.

"It seems," the officer was speaking now, "that we do have several individuals here that may be of interest to you." He handed the paper to Javed and then picked up the package from the table and gave it to his aide.

Javed glanced down the list of names he had received. He would have had from Samuel the names of those who were missing, and Khalida Ali's contact had confirmed the number of men being held here. It was up to Javed to make sure that they got everyone out.

"Yes. These are the men we were looking for. I'm glad to know that they are all safe. When can they be released?"

The officer glanced at his aide before answering. "We can have them ready in a couple of hours."

Hassan knew that they would clean up the men before releasing them. He hoped that the Security Forces hadn't beaten them too badly.

"Fine. We'll send vehicles to pick them up in two hours."

"Of course, it might be possible to have them ready in an hour, if that would be convenient for you."

Hassan knew the officer wasn't being helpful. He was looking for more money.

Javed reached into his briefcase, took out a smaller bundle, and placed it on the table. "Thank you very much," Javed responded. "That's all the time we need to arrange for the vehicles to pick them up. The families of the men will be happy to have them home as soon as possible"

The cigarettes had been finished now, and there was no need to stay for tea. Everyone in the room knew the game was over. Javed stood and again thanked the officer. Then the four lawyers were escorted out of the room and back to their taxi.

As they got into the taxi, Hassan saw several men being dragged out of a Security Forces' vehicle and into one of the other buildings in the compound. At least one of them was unconscious, and all of them were injured. Hassan shuddered, thinking about what went on behind these walls. Then the gate was opened and the taxi drove through into the street. They were free again.

Hassan felt very weary. He knew they couldn't win the game this way. Their only hope was to get the Supreme Court to rule on the petition against the blasphemy law. He mentally rehearsed the arguments he would use before the Court, if he ever had the chance. Legally, they were in a strong position, he knew, if they were given an opportunity to present their case.

He loved the law. He looked forward to legal research, to preparing arguments, and especially to presenting them in court. It was what he did best. Hassan sighed. He knew they didn't have much time in which to make their next move. The stakes were rising. They had to go for checkmate soon.