Page 256 - Leadership in the Indian Army

A few minutes before eleven, a man with a bullhorn called for all

passengers to Peshawar to begin boarding. The bus doors opened with a
violent hydraulic hiss. A parade of travelers rushed toward it, scampering

past each other to squeeze through.

Wakil motioned toward Laila as he picked up his son.

"We're going," Laila said.
Wakil led the way. As they approached the bus, Laila saw faces appear

in the windows, noses and palms pressed to the glass. All around them,
farewells were yelled.

A young militia soldier was checking tickets at the bus door.

"Bov!" Azxzz. cried.
Wakil handed tickets to the soldier, who tore them in half and handed

them back. Wakil let his wife board first. Laila saw a look pass between

Wakil and the militiaman. Wakil, perched on the first step of the bus,
leaned down and said something in his ear. The militiaman nodded.

Laila's heart plummeted.

"You two, with the child, step aside," the soldier said.
Laila pretended not to hear. She went to climb the steps, but he

grabbed her by the shoulder and roughly pulled her out of the line. "You

too," he called to Mariam. "Hurry up! You're holding up the line."
"What's the problem, brother?" Laila said through numb lips. "We have

tickets. Didn't my cousin hand them to you?"

He made a Shh motion with his finger and spoke in a low voice to
another guard. The second guard, a rotund fellow with a scar down his

right cheek, nodded.

"Follow me," this one said to Laila.
"We have to board this bus," Laila cried, aware that her voice was

shaking. "We have tickets. Why are you doing this?"