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Copyright © 2011 by Kim Barker The
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Cover Title Page Copyright Dedicati
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KABUL
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CHAPTER 1
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enough to make it into my newspaper
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championship game. Like everyone el
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grueling way we came, seven hours,
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nothing like the Taliban. But they
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clear sign I was a foreigner, we dr
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I CHAPTER 2 MONTANA ew home to Chic
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nancial ruin. I cobbled together re
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city of about three or four million
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one is supposed to be happy at an A
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CHAPTER 3
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can work with someone who says bad
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thrown at their palace compound. I
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confused with the recently opened A
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smiled, even when talking about tra
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convinced Ismail Khan to abandon He
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CHAPTER 4 THERE GOES MY GUN D espit
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U.S. troops were killed in the ghti
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- Page 56 and 57: I CHAPTER 5 ONE WAY OR ANOTHER n Ka
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- Page 78 and 79: oy. But now it was too cold for suc
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PART II WHACK- A-STAN
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CHAPTER 13 UNDER PRESSURE T housand
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and West Pakistan, nearly a million
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ght. Throughout the 1980s, the Unit
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seizing power almost eight years ea
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moving much at all. The team’s to
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whenever we hit a town, or even an
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CHAPTER 14
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were killed. One head cleric, who h
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Samad called me “boss.” Often h
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platform just above the driver, we
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abbit hole I had fallen, I saw it a
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CHAPTER 15
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frantically called people in Pakist
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lown up near the local ISI office.
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deep-fried packets, and sweet milky
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cell phones—but each was close to
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spontaneous outpouring of grief, no
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CHAPTER 16
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power and allowed the plane to land
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nally told me, referring to Sharif
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“Yes, Mian Sahib’s schedule is
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“That was bad planning,” Sharif
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I snapped a photograph with my Blac
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CHAPTER 17 LUCKY STAR B uried by th
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the south weren’t allowed to work
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audience, who booed Lima. Some of t
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something. It’s very sensitive.
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Only then would I learn that everyo
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CHAPTER 18 SUSPICIOUS MINDS M y new
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up plates lled with various lukewar
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“Pull over,” I told Samad. We s
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kidnapped.” I felt ill. As far as
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handed me the keys. “We’re hiri
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CHAPTER 19 REBEL, REBEL S omething
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“What the hell?” I asked myself
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a very poor job keeping current pla
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minutes than we did in six hours.
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“All my ex-boyfriends? There’s
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I CHAPTER 20 WHY CAN’T WE BE FRIE
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President Pervez Musharraf, who had
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directionless as a headless chicken
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“Lady, give me your CV. CV,” he
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I had no idea who sent the message.
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CHAPTER 21 LONDON CALLING A fter na
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ad economy, the war, the Pakistani
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shook Nawaz’s hand—he had soft
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“BlackBerry, Nokia, or iPhone, Ki
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CHAPTER 22 DEADBEAT CLUB A s soon a
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ut it had always been Silver Fox pr
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probably killers. “Farouq?” I s
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the deal, reporting that the video
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CHAPTER 23
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eturned from Pakistan. He hadn’t
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against temptation” but with thes
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“I can’t take it.” “Why not
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cassettes (DVs). The mayor called u
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CHAPTER 24
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Farouq, helping the New York Times
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world believed the country was abou
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Why did I want to stay so much, in
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CHAPTER 25
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time seeing Afghans as the other. T
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turn to the right,” the first lie
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And then, in another nine months, t
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police riding tractors that ripped
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I CHAPTER 26 WHEN THE MAN COMES ARO
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actually might win. For the past tw
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Farouq had told me how he would pol
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and without telling my bosses. And
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CHAPTER 27 HOTEL CALIFORNIA U nempl
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paying my salary. Many diplomats ra
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wrappers. After the usual deep-tiss
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heavy makeup, $70,000 worth of gold
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to do here. Karzai would eventually
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the air. For hours we danced, that
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EPILOGUE
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Helmand district of Marja ended up
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Taliban’s clutches in Pakistan.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
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my absurd vision. I’m indebted to