Empire of Lies

18

It was a stab in the dark, but it paid off.

He knew Nisreen usually did her best to meet the kids when they got off the school bus around the corner from their apartment building, and today proved no exception. He didn’t have to wait there too long.

Her face registered surprise—and not the happy kind—when she spotted him. She hadn’t even reached him when she asked, “What are you doing here?”

“You stormed off before even giving me a chance to—”

“To what? Tell me they just pulled him in for a friendly chat over a cup of rose tea and some baklava? Cause that’s how you guys do things, right?”

“Would you please take a breath and just give me a chance?”

“A chance for what?”

“I’m not the enemy, Nisreen. I’m trying to help you.”

“Your uniform says otherwise.”

“We stopped five guys who were going to attack the festival, the one for the beylerbey’s son’s wedding. They would have killed God knows how many people. Hell, you and Ramazan might have even been there. And Tarek and Noor, too. So maybe, just maybe, this uniform isn’t all bad, no?”

His outburst stilled Nisreen. She looked totally dumbfounded and almost didn’t notice the school bus pull up.

Several kids got off, including Tarek and Noor. Their faces lit up when they saw Kamal.

Noor ran toward him with open arms and a huge smile. “Uncle Kamal.”

He whisked her off her feet in a tight hug. “How’s my favorite little princess? I’ve missed you so much, hayatim.” The endearment meant “my life,” and nothing could have been more true.

He gave her a big kiss on her forehead before setting her back down and crouching to get level with Tarek’s face. Kamal gestured him over. “And how’s my little şampiyon?”

His little champion hesitated and glanced at his mother. She gave him a tentative, visibly strained nod that it was okay. Tarek stepped closer, and Kamal gave him a hug, glancing up at Nisreen as he did.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Noor enthused.

Kamal felt a tear through his heart, but he hid it and just gave her a warm smile. “I don’t think so, hayatim.”

“I need to speak with Uncle Kamal, children,” Nisreen said. “Why don’t you go up to the house? I won’t be long.”

The kids glanced uncertainly at them both, then nodded. With parting melancholy glances at Kamal and a small wave from Noor, they walked away.

Kamal watched them go, then turned to Nisreen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for them to see me. But it was the only way to—”

“Why are you here?”

He kept his tone soft. “I’m worried about you. Tell me what you know about Sinasi.”

“I don’t need you to worry about me. Worry about him. He’s—”

He cut her off. “Please, Nisreen, just… tell me.”

She sucked in her reluctance. “He’s quite successful. I’m sure you’ve seen his work, if not in the theater, then maybe on TV. He was casting his new play, and one of the actors reported him.”

“For what?”

“Incitement to riot—that’s what your guy at the Hafiye said.” Nisreen frowned, then added, “It’s the play.”

“What about it?”

“It’s the story of a Polish farmer who lives in a small town on the edge of the empire. A place that’s ignored by the state. A band of Russian guerrillas are harassing the townspeople. They extort money and food from them. They take women. They kill a couple of farmers who stand up to them. The ra’ayah”—the folk—“implore the bey who governs the region for help, but he can’t be bothered to lift a finger. They’re small and far, and he doesn’t want to risk a military conflict that might disturb his lush life and cost money. So the farmer decides to take things into his own hands. He goes around from town to town asking people to speak out. He asks them to stand up and choose who they want for their bey. If he’s chosen, he would have control of the local armed regiment—and use it against the guerrillas.”

This got Kamal’s attention. “Which he does, and he saves the day?”

“No,” Nisreen said. “The bey has him killed. The uprising is put down. The Russians move in unopposed and rape and pillage; then they leave. Order is restored.”

Kamal shook his head.

“It’s a play,” Nisreen insisted, her anger back. “A story. It’s people exploring ideas on a stage. Sinasi wasn’t plotting to blow anyone up.”

Kamal let out a tense breath. “You don’t know what else he’s involved in.”

His words fed Nisreen’s anger. “It’s about the play, Kamal.”

He hesitated, then decided to say it. “They’re saying he was White Rose.”

“That’s bullshit.” Nisreen snorted, but it was a nervous snort that did little to cover up a clearly deep-seated fear.

“What if he was?” Kamal objected.

“White Rose, White Rose… What is this mysterious White Rose that everyone is part of all of a sudden?” Nisreen scoffed. “What do you really know about it? And why are all the cases involving it dealt with by a closed court?” She shook her head slowly, then stared away, a sunken look in her eyes, before facing Kamal again. “The attack you stopped… of course I’m grateful. Everybody is. Of course, I think you’re doing the right thing. But that’s only part of the fight we’re in. And maybe you’re too close to it to see what’s really happening. The people you work for, the ones you have all this blind faith in? They’re the ones who should be in jail, not Sinasi. Abdülhamid and his gang… they’re robbing us blind and shutting down anyone who speaks up about it. And the rampant corruption and the graft, my God, they’re bad enough, but then when you throw in the sheer incompetence—can’t you see? They’re undoing all the progress Murad achieved; they’re destroying our faith in government and setting us back a hundred years. Hell, they might even drag us into a war with America if it suits them. You need to wake up, Kamal. If people like you don’t, what hope do we have?”

Her words sank in like depth charges detonating deep within him, and he couldn’t find the words to answer her. Instead, he just nodded and retreated to the issue at hand. The rest could wait.

“Okay. Give me a chance to look into Sinasi,” he told her. “If he’s not part of anything bad, I’ll do everything I can to make sure they release him as quickly as possible.”

Nisreen let out a breath that was drowning in skepticism.

“But if he is, I’m going to need you to be much more careful from here on,” Kamal insisted. “These people are dangerous.”

“White Rose? Or you and the rest of your people?”

Kamal let it slide. “Please… I’m serious.”

She met his gaze. A couple of seconds, no more. But it was enough to rekindle a whole history of closeness between them.

“I miss you. All of you,” he said.

“We do, too.” She paused, then added, “All of us.”

He felt the tear rip wider. “I should let you go. I’ll be in touch as soon as I hear anything.”

Nisreen nodded.

He didn’t want to go. He wanted to stretch the moment, he wanted to accompany her home, to see his brother, his nephew, his niece. Most of all, he just wanted to be around her longer. But now wasn’t the right time.

He caught her wistful look, felt the tear rip open, and walked away.