When Paul entered the mission he found Joseph, Michael and David awake, drinking tea. "Samuel sent a message," Joseph said, as he put down his teacup. "He wants us to meet him at Peter's house at 10:00."

Peter lived in Korangi 5. It was a dangerous place, even before the police began cracking down on the MQM by raiding homes, arresting and torturing leaders. Paul had heard that the MQM had a safe house in Korangi 5 and that the police were trying to find it. He knew Peter was an important person among the elders in the colonies and the leader of the Christians in Korangi 5. But why go to his place, when it was so dangerous?

"Can we get a taxi to go there?" Paul asked Joseph, who had already risen.

"I'll try to find Nazir," Joseph answered. "His taxi is a wreck, and he needs money so badly that he'll probably take us."

"See if he can leave soon, so we can go by the hospital to visit the demonstrators who were injured in the protest."

As the three young men shuffled out the door, Paul sat and poured himself a cup of tea. It was only lukewarm, but nevertheless it tasted good to him. Two cups of tea ought to hold him for the morning. He got up, put the cups and teapot on the tray, and left the dishes in the kitchen. He took off his cassock and changed into street clothes. Paul didn't wear a clerical collar in Karachi. He put on a typical long shirt over matching pants that was worn by the average Pakistani man. He didn't want to look any different on the street than other men. Finally, he reached for his crucifix under his shirt, rubbing it three times with his thumb. He'd done that since he was ordained. When Joseph came back to say that the taxi was waiting, Paul was ready to go.

They walked through the narrow alley in front of the mission to a slightly wider street, where the taxi was waiting. Paul got in the front, and Joseph joined Michael and David in the back. As the taxi slowly pushed through the crowded streets, Paul glanced at the dashboard. The gas gauge read empty, the speedometer wasn't registering any speed, and the odometer was stuck on 99,999. I wonder if this taxi will last long enough to get us to Peter's house, Paul thought, as the car lurched over the bumps in the road and the springs squeaked in protest.

Once they got out to the Korangi Road, the ride was smoother and the traffic moving. The hospital wasn't far, but the traffic was heavy at this time in the morning so it took twenty minutes before they pulled up before the Jinnah hospital. Paul and Joseph left the taxi and headed for the hospital entrance, leaving Michael and David behind with Nazir.

Once inside, they had no difficulty finding their way to the ward with the beds of their friends. Paul saw members of Matthew's family visiting an injured relative and stopped to express his condolences. He probably should have gone by the house, as custom required, but Matthew was a Protestant so it was understandable if a Catholic friend didn't come by. Paul learned that Matthew's family was visiting a nephew of Matthew, a young man who had lost an eye in the assault on the marchers. Paul spoke with him briefly and then moved on.

As Paul moved down the row of beds and talked with men who had broken arms, cracked ribs, dislocated shoulders, lacerated skulls, and bullet wounds in various parts of their bodies, he felt rage rising up within him. The police shouldn't be allowed to get away with this vicious and unprovoked attack on unarmed men! They had to be held accountable!

He tried to keep a tight grip on his feelings by concentrating on the needs of the men in the hospital. A few of them were Catholic and asked him to pray for them. But for the most part, the injured men only wanted someone to listen to them. One or two gave him a message to bring back to the colonies for their families. Most of the men didn't have phones in their homes or any way to contact their families directly. Paul was happy to be able to help them by notifying their relatives.

By 9:30 he hadn't made it all the way through the ward, but he knew they had to leave to go to Peter's house. Outside Paul got into the front seat of Nazir's taxi, as Joseph slipped into the back with Michael and David. Then the taxi began to work its way out of the center of Karachi.

As they came closer to Korangi 5, Paul began to think about the MQM. Its leaders claimed that their political party represented the interests of the citizens who had come into Pakistan at the time of the partition of India in 1948 and the independence of both new nations. They blamed the government for the violence between MQM activists, their political opponents, and the police. Press reports, however, were more critical of the party. The Mohajir Quami Movement was split into two factions: the MQM/A and the Haqiqi, and each seemed to be involved in fighting with the other as well as with police and security officials. Furthermore, the MQM/A was responsible for much of Karachi's criminal violence. Its leaders extorted money from Mohajir businessmen. The police, therefore, felt justified in going after MQM activists. And because the police knew that arrested criminals were often able to bribe their way to freedom, it had taken to shooting them and claiming they had resisted arrest.

On the MQM side, it was reasonable to assume that anyone arrested would be tortured. A report by the Human Rights Commission had shown that in police custody torture was common. Methods included beating, burning with cigarettes, sexual assault, whipping the soles of the feet, electric shock, denial of food or sleep, hanging upside down, forced spreading of the legs, and prolonged isolation. Often the police used the threat of abuse to extort money from prisoners and their families. Investigations of torture took place and reports were published, but in most instances the perpetrators weren't punished. Those attempting to bring charges against police officers were threatened by other officers and, therefore, usually dropped the charges.

The jails of Karachi were ghastly places. Class "C" cells were used for common criminals and pretrial detention. These cells had dirt floors, no furnishings, and poor food. The use of handcuffs and fetters attached to the wall was common. The treatment of women in jails was especially malicious. The regulations prohibiting the police from detaining women overnight were largely ignored. There were few policewomen to perform matron duties, and policemen frequently took advantage of women in custody.

For these reasons, MQM leaders preferred to resist arrest rather than take their chances in the hands of the police. It was, moreover, as dangerous to be captured by a rival MQM group as by the police. Each faction was known to torture and kill its captives and to maintain private prisons. Therefore, MQM leaders never left their safe areas without guards who were heavily armed. As all sorts of weapons had moved through Karachi on the way to the rebels in Afghanistan, the MQM had plenty of firepower including AK-47s and rocket-propelled grenade launchers.

Karachi was also home to violent confrontations between Shi'a and Sunni Muslim groups. In 1996 Sunni gunmen killed twenty worshippers at two Shi'a mosques. Reprisal attacks took the lives of at least ten Sunnis. But the Sunnis and Shi'a had less to fear from the police than the MQM factions, as their conflict was more religious than political.

The taxi had pulled off into the alleys of Korangi 5 and was working its way slowly forward when Paul suddenly realized that no one was on the street. He glanced for the quickest way out of the colony, but it was too late. A shot rang out and then a burst of gunfire. He heard the thud of a bullet hitting the side of the taxi and ducked his head. Then two shots shattered the windshield and Nazir's head snapped back with the impact. Paul shook the glass off his head and yelled to Joseph, "Run for it! We're too exposed here!" Joseph, Michael and David leaped out of the rear doors of the taxi, as Paul pushed his door open, rolled onto the street, and lay still in the shelter of the stalled vehicle.

A grenade went off behind the wall across the street and then another one, sending pieces of wood and cinder blocks high into the air. As the churning smoke from the explosions drifted toward the taxi, Paul crawled toward the side of the street, hoping the dust and debris in the air would make it harder to spot him. He rolled over a pile of dirt and then crouched for a moment, weighing his choices. He could stay where he was, but the buildings across the street had second floor windows. Anyone alive up there with a rifle or machine gun could easily pick him off. There was a wall to his right that he might be able to scale, but he had no idea what was behind it. If he went to the left, he would have to run in the open for about 20 feet before he reached the safety of an alley.

A burst of gunfire jarred him into motion, and he began to run to the left. After every three steps he changed his direction slightly, running as if he were kicking a soccer ball through a field of opponents. He had played a lot of soccer when he was younger, but his legs weren't what they used to be. His chest was heaving and his breath coming in gasps, as he threw himself around the corner of the alley and cowered in its shadows.

Catching his breath, he wondered if Joseph or the others had been hit. And what were they to do now? Was this an MQM fight, or was someone trying to get him? The sound of police sirens answered his question. They were after the MQM. The police had probably set up an attack. Now they were formally coming to the rescue. Anyone they caught in the area was liable to be beaten and perhaps charged.

If he headed back to the Korangi road, he might run straight into the police. It would be safer to try to get to Peter's house, but he wasn't sure he knew the way. The harsh whine of the police sirens prompted him to go forward. He ran down the alley and turned right at the next intersection, following a narrow passageway that ran between a high wall and the back of a row of shops. He slipped on the garbage and stumbled on the stones that littered the alley, but soon he came out onto a wider street. It was also empty of life, but he could see people a block or so to the left. He slowed to a jog now, winded and weak, and when he came closer to the crowds he began to walk.

He wanted to get further away from the fighting before he asked anyone for directions. Peter was well known in the colony, but Paul didn't want to ask the wrong person and the colony was full of Muslims as well as Christians. Paul didn't want anyone to know he was a Christian, until he was sure he could trust him. He pushed between the vendors on the street selling apples, nuts, cigarettes, cut sugarcane, and juice, searching their eyes, looking for a clue to their identity. In an area where there were stalls selling clothes and leather goods as well as food, he saw a small bookstore. Entering quickly, he began to scan the shelves. Magazines, comic books, newspapers, books on health, novels. If it's here, it will be tucked away in the corner, he thought. He walked toward the back of the store. On a shelf near the floor, he saw what he was looking for. A small sing said, "Bibles for sale."

He took a deep breath, and as he exhaled he felt the muscles of his legs trembling. He bent over and pulled one of the Bibles off the shelf, holding it in his hands for a moment, before opening it and turning to his favorite psalm. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil," he read silently. "For thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." He did feel comforted by the familiar words, but a few minutes ago he hadn't felt that God was with him. He had felt alone and terrified.

Paul closed the Bible and put it back on the shelf. He turned to face a small man with wisps of red hair twisting around his bald head. Paul had always wondered where the red hair had come from among the Pakistanis. It was recurrent in some of the families.

"May I help you?" the shop owner said. The quiet voice broke the mood of his flight and made the world real once more for Paul.

"Yes," Paul replied. "I'm looking for Peter Bhatti's house. Can you give me directions?"

"Of course. It's not far. After you go out the door, turn left and go down to the second alley, then turn right. It's the third gate on your right."

Paul thanked the man and went quickly to the door. The street was full of people and seemed safe. He stepped out, turned left and walked swiftly down to the second alley, then turned right. At the third gate he rang the bell. He heard the sound of the door open behind the gate, and then the gate itself swung in. Peter, a tall broad man with a large bushy moustache, was standing there, grinning broadly.

"Came into a bit of a firefight, did ya?" he said. Peter had worked as a sailor for many years, before settling in Karachi. He continued to talk as though he was among his old mates.

"Is Joseph here?" Paul asked.

"Aye, he's here, worryin' about ya." Peter closed the gate as Paul stepped inside. The steel door clanged as it shut, causing Paul to jump.

"Easy, my friend," Peter said. "There's no danger here. Ya've nothin' to fear from the MQM, and the police are too busy with them now to be worryin' about ya."

He led Paul into his house, through the kitchen and into the main room. Joseph jumped to his feet when he saw Paul.

"You're all right?" he asked.

"Fine," Paul lied. Actually he felt sick to his stomach and weak. He sat down on the bed and tried to calm himself. "Are Michael and David safe?" he asked Joseph.

"I think so. We split up to look for you, once we were away from the shooting. They went back toward Korangi Road. I came ahead to Peter's."

Paul took the cup of tea offered to him by Peter's wife. The rich smell calmed his nerves and the hot sweet brew felt wonderful in his mouth and moving through his throat into his stomach. It was good to be alive! Then he thought of Nazir, who had surely been killed in the attack. He shuddered, as he remembered the bullets smashing into Nazir's skull. Paul knew he was indirectly responsible for Nazir's death. If they hadn't asked Nazir to drive them into Korangi 5, Nazir would not have been killed. In addition, Paul felt guilty for running away.

"Joseph, do you know if Nazir had any family?"

"He wasn't married, and I don't know about his parents. But he has a sister."

"Remind me to contact her when we get back to the mission." Paul looked at Peter, who was watching him intently. "Nazir was our taxi driver. He was killed in the attack."

Peter nodded. The three men were silent for a moment, each lost in his own thoughts. Paul was relieved that he was alive and that Joseph was unhurt. But he was worried about Michael and David and sick about Nazir.

"Because of the fight," Peter said, "we can't meet here as we'd planned."

"Meet with whom?" Paul asked.

"Ya'r lawyers," Peter said. "Javed called me late last night, after he'd gone home. He and another bloke from the Human Rights Commission want to talk with ya. As he has a regular client nearby, he thought comin' here to meet ya would be less suspicious. But when he heard the shootin', he called to say he'd meet us at the Blue Moon."

The Blue Moon was a well known restaurant in the Christian section of Korangi 5. It had a few rooms upstairs and a back door off a dark alley, so it was a good place to meet. Javed had used the restaurant on other occasions - to interview human rights victims, for example.

When Paul had finished his tea, he took his cup to the kitchen and then followed Peter through the door and out to the gate. Joseph stayed close behind him. Paul wondered who Javed had brought with him. He'd heard the names of several of the lawyers who worked for the Human Rights Commission. Which one had Javed convinced to help them?