Connor spoke into his microphone. “Good copy. We’re ready.”
One of the other Cobra operators—Malik Jones—opened the door to her suite. He was also wearing a suit.
Three men stepped inside—two she didn’t recognize followed by Dr. Amir Sadik Khan, an MP and the Minister of Foreign Affairs.
She waited for them to cross the wide room. “Welcome, gentlemen. I am Shanti Lahiri, special prosecutor with the International Criminal Court.”
Women didn’t ordinarily shake hands with men here, but she’d come as a representative of an international organization.
She held out her hand, and Dr. Khan took it. “Doctor Khan, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I understand you knew my father. Won’t you please sit down and enjoy somecha?”
“Welcome to Bangladesh—or should I say, ‘Welcome home’?” Dr. Khan wasn’t a tall man, and he clearly loved to eat, his face round and beardless, his dark hair white at the temples. He smiled, switched to Bangla. “Do you speak our language?”
She answered in English, aware of Connor, who stood silently at some distance behind her. “I know only a few words. My parents spoke English at home.”
It was bad manners to go directly to talking about business, so Shanti made polite conversation about the weather, about Dr. Khan’s time at Harvard, about his relationship with her father, while Connor and the other two men stood in the background.
“I remember hearing that he had married an American student against his parents’ wishes.” His tone left no doubt that he thought her father had done the wrong thing. “In Bangladesh, we are raised to respect our elders.”
Shanti smiled. “My grandparents onbothsides objected to the marriage, but my parents are happy and still very much in love. As my mother says, their happiness together is the best revenge.”
“I never met your mother. After you were born, your father left his country and moved to the United States.”
“There were pogroms against Hindus that year, as I’m sure you remember. Innocent Hindus were beaten and raped and had their homes and shops burned down. After what happened to my father’s siblings during the genocide, my father left his homeland to keep us safe.”
Dr. Khan’s gaze dropped to the coffee table. “Those were awful times.”
Shanti moved on to business. “Thank you for allowing me to enter the country as a representative of the International Criminal Court. My work here must move forward if we are to help the Rohingya people find justice.”
“We support the ICC, of course,” Dr. Khan said. “But this is a sensitive issue for us. Myanmar is our neighbor. Bangladesh cannot take in all of the Rohingya who have fled here, and so we must negotiate a solution with Myanmar for their repatriation. We cannot do this if our relations with Yangon deteriorate because we assist in your prosecution of one of their military leaders. I regret that we cannot provide you with a military escort.”
This discussion had already taken place through diplomatic channels, so nothing he said surprised Shanti.
“I understand the delicate position in which Bangladesh finds itself, and I have no desire to make your job more difficult than it already is. As you see, the organization has provided me with security. I’ll be quite safe.”
Dr. Khan looked straight into her eyes. “Inshallah.”
God willing.
Connor watchedwhile Shanti talked with Dr. Khan, who was clearly nervous about her mission. She handled the pressure well. She sat there, spine straight, chin up, looking more like a princess than a prosecutor.
“I was hoping you could help me with one thing,” she said at last.
Here it goes.
“Please, ask for anything. I will do all I can.”
“My security team would like to deploy a small observational drone to watch over my location in the camps. They haven’t gotten their permit approved yet. I wondered if you might be able to intervene and speed things up.”
Khan set his teacup down. “I’m sure you understand that these things take time. The government is very concerned about violations of our airspace, and the regulations are stringent. This is not my department, but I will try.”
That wasn’t the answer Connor had wanted.
“Thank you. I’m grateful.”
Khan stood. “It has been a delight to make your acquaintance. Please pass along my regards the next time you see your father.”
Shanti stood, too. “I will. Thank you.”