A Rope and a Prayer (24 page)

 

 

A few days later, on January 24, the International Committee of the Red Cross delivers a letter to the Kabul bureau. We have no idea what route it has traversed or how many hands it has passed through. It bears no date. One of David’s colleagues scans it and forwards it to my e-mail.

I know instantly the letter was written by him.

“Thank you for our wonderful wedding on September 6, 2008. Memories of that wonderful day and our beautiful times together keep me strong here. I love you so very, very, very much and thank you for all the joy you have given me. Thank you for all you and my friends and family are doing to help us. Simply do the best you can. That’s all I ask.”

It’s incredibly moving just to see his handwriting.

The demands have dropped from $25 million to $15 million. And from ten prisoners from Guantánamo and Bagram to five from Pul-i-Charkhi, a less-secure prison in Afghanistan. But David’s captors are still in a different stratosphere from us.

Pul-i-Charkhi. This is interesting, as the newspaper’s Kabul bureau has found out that Atiqullah’s real name is Najibullah Naeem and he also goes by Abu Tayyeb. Abu Tayyeb has twice been a prisoner at Pul-i-Charkhi, but was able to bribe his way out. He lived for years in Zabul Province, the same as Tahir. We are now certain that the Taliban commander David went to interview is also his captor. To add to the intrigue, the FBI has “declassified” the identity of Atiqullah. They claim Atiqullah is an alias for not one, but two individuals working in tandem: Abu Tayyeb and Badruddin Haqqani. They think Abu Tayyeb originally abducted David and perhaps sold or handed him over to Badruddin Haqqani.

David insists that this be a deal for all three. The letter also states: “The Taliban do not trust and are very angry and suspicious of the office and the head of the office in Kabul. You should negotiate through the Red Cross only. All negotiations and transactions of any kind should be through the Red Cross. The Taliban trust the Red Cross.”

Something has been obliterated and is unintelligible, followed by: “We are in a mountain area of Afghanistan with cold weather, snow and Afghan food and water that make me sick. The conditions are very difficult. They say that if their demands are not met they will kill the three of us. They are telling me to tell you to hurry up and meet their demands. I’ve said I’m a journalist who has spent my career writing to help Muslims but they say you must meet their demands. Please, please, please help us. I’m so sorry. I’ll pay back anyone who helps us for the rest of my life. I’m so, so sorry. I apologize to you, my family and friends. I LOVE YOU!!!”

I spend the next few days in my apartment writing a response, and then rewriting it. I show drafts to Lee, McCraw, our security team, and the FBI for feedback. Their responses are typically contradictory: I do not feel there is one channel giving Lee and me clear and authoritative advice. Our team members are sometimes at odds because of their background, agenda, and viewpoint. I spend days fine-tuning the letter. I want to include enough personal information to put David at ease, without revealing any additional information to his captors. This means omitting the names of family and friends—and referring to them simply by relationship. As a team, we debate content, word choice, as well as etiquette. The competing strategies are becoming clear. Some feel we should play on the captors’ sense of honor by thanking them for treating David well. Other members feel they have no honor and should not be praised for their behavior. I’m trying to strike a balance between cultural sensitivity and authenticity.

Our team debates the merits of including a counteroffer within my letter, even though we have already been told by the head of the International Red Cross in Kabul that the organization will not participate in or facilitate negotiations. They will not carry a letter containing negotiation points. This is very frustrating. Why would the Haqqanis select the Red Cross as an intermediary when they are not permitted to act in this manner? We compose two letters—one that is personal and a second that also contains a counteroffer. We are mentioning it to keep the conversation going, until we are in striking distance of their demands. Or, no matter how improbable, until the FBI can get a fix on David’s location and facilitate a rescue attempt. We also send a backup message through the engineer.

We also debate the meaning of David’s reference to “the office in Kabul.” The security contractors claim this is the paper’s Kabul bureau. The
Times
thinks it refers to the security contractors. A jousting match ensues. McCraw steps in to referee.

One of the Clayton kidnap experts on Team Kabul has worked on many cases in Colombia. While the negotiation strategies do not always translate across cultures, his knowledge of what will help sustain a hostage does. He advises me to put something in the letter that lets David know we will never give up and asks him to promise to do the same. He advises me to tell David that I am well and that he must promise me that he will do his best to keep himself in good spirits. In my letter I say, “You must promise me you will not give up. You must be strong, because I am strong.” I carefully write the entire letter out in longhand, and I sign it “Love always.” I underscore the always.

In the letter, I refer to our respective families—the Mulvihills, the Rohdes—as one unit: our family. One of the side effects of the last two months is that I’ve gotten to know my in-laws—and my brother-in-law Lee in particular—quite well. Mary Jane and Lee have been my intermittent roommates. Lee makes frequent trips to the city. I marvel at the irony that I have spent more time at home with Lee than I have with my husband. While Lee has taken on the role of updating David’s siblings and parents with daily text messages, I also speak regularly with Erik and Laura. Both families have rallied to support me, emotionally and at times geographically. I feel we are one family now. I think this is something David would be proud to hear.

On January 24, I scan and e-mail the letters back to the International Red Cross in Kabul and copy all our team members and our FBI case agent, Jim. Copies are translated and read to the families of Tahir and Asad and they are encouraged to write their own replies.

The letter containing negotiation points is rejected by the Red Cross director in Kabul. The first, more personal letter is passed along. We have no idea how or when it will reach David.

While we wait for a response to our letter, McCraw receives another confounding message from an Afghan source. A person who identifies himself as a relative of Afghan president Karzai claims that the Haqqanis want to use him as a middleman to secure a deal for our three. He says the Haqqanis have not been satisfied with the engineer—they feel he is too sympathetic to our family. This person, who also says he is a former mujahid, asserts that five parties have a stake in our three. Each expects to be compensated—$5 million apiece—in the event of a negotiated release. The five parties include the original kidnapper, the Haqqanis, Baitullah Mehsud, a tribal shura, and a Pakistani government agency. In addition, Siraj Haqqani is demanding the release of Taliban prisoners.

Even though this explains the astronomical nature of the initial demands, it does not bring us any closer to securing a clear communication channel. When McCraw tries to follow up with this source, he is told that while the Haqqanis would like the mujahid to work on their behalf, he will not be able to do so. According to him, the five parties have not been able to reach an agreement on what they are willing to settle for. Once again, we feel we are just chasing shadows.

 

 

In the meantime, Team Kabul begins to draw up an exit strategy in the event David is released. Given that we’ve still had no phone contact with the captors for over a month, this seems premature. But it keeps our spirits up. We appreciate their foresight. We all know that if or when a release happens, there will be a mad rush to get David home and reunite Tahir and Asad with their families. Team Kabul and the other consultants in the United States advise us to make private arrangements for David’s transport home. We should not count on the United States government to get him home. With two wars going on, extracting David from the region may not be their top priority. Also, they tell us not to rely on the FBI because they cannot guarantee assets, such as helicopters, when needed. They add that they might want to keep David at the embassy in Kabul or Pakistan for questioning, as it is their duty to gather information in hopes of prosecuting this crime in the future.

Lee and I are beginning to wonder if we should leverage the U.S. government to do more to help us during David’s captivity. We’re still optimistic about their influence. Later on, we will become all too aware of the limits of their power in that part of the world. One of the many useful contacts in David’s e-mail is Zalmay Khalilzad. He is the former United States ambassador to the United Nations and also an Afghan. I decide to set up a meeting.

Khalilzad is a large man, with a Cheshire cat grin and a mastery of the sideways glance. He is also very astute. “What you need is a high-level advocate, someone to represent your family, someone in the U.S. government, who can assign tasks to members of foreign governments and also keep abreast of what U.S. agencies are doing.” He suggests someone well respected, with a bit of gravitas and experience in the region. Hillary Clinton and Richard Holbrooke are his suggestions.

With this in mind, Lee and I decide to take a day trip to Washington to meet with officials at the State Department as well as Senators John Kerry and Joe Lieberman, both of whom have expressed an interest in helping in David’s case. We want to put a face to our issue. Our hope is to find an advocate within our government to keep our issue at the forefront and possibly to coordinate information coming in from various agencies: FBI, CIA, State Department. We hope this advocate will be Clinton or Holbrooke.

We arrive in D.C. on a snowy morning and walk from Union Station to the Senate offices in the Russell Building. The place is in transition. Office furniture is stacked in the hallways: camelback sofas, Chippendale chairs, dark wooden desks. It looks like an Ethan Allen showroom exploded.

Our first meeting is with Senator Kerry and his chief investigator for the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, Douglas Frantz. Doug is a former investigative reporter who worked at
The New York Times
and knows David. Doug is the one actively keeping our case on the senator’s radar.

My mother has given me a recent photo of David and me that was taken at my brother’s wedding last year. We look very happy and relaxed. She has put the photo in a paper frame and suggests I show it to everyone I meet with from now on as a way to humanize our issue. Most people are moved by the fact that we are newlyweds. Our apparent happiness in the photograph underscores the sadness of our current situation.

Senator Kerry is a tall, imposing man. He looks exactly like he does on television. “Your husband certainly likes to push the envelope,” he says, referring to David’s decision to interview the Taliban commander. He then asks us for an update on the situation, apologizing for not knowing more about the case. He agrees that it is best for us to keep David’s case out of the media.

He’ll be in touch with Pakistani officials about the case, he says, and will get back to us. Senator Lieberman’s aide suggests that he and his colleague compose a letter to Hillary Clinton, telling her they feel this is a matter that deserves her attention as secretary of state. It is surreal but reassuring to have former presidential and vice presidential candidates in our corner. Over the next few months Lee and I remain in touch with Doug Frantz, who informs me that the letter drafted by the senators was received by Secretary Clinton. Senator Kerry continues to follow our case and informs us soon after our meeting that he has raised the issue with Pakistani officials and will continue to do so.

From the Senate office building, Lee and I rush off to meet with Richard Holbrooke, now the special representative to Afghanistan and Pakistan, for lunch. We had assumed this meeting would be top secret. Holbrooke has selected the venue: the Four Seasons restaurant in George-town. Lee and I arrive early and request to be seated at a quiet table in the lounge. Holbrooke arrives soon after. A large man with piercing blue eyes, he breezes in, complete with State Department badge and binder. He gives me a bear hug, then requests we move tables, to the middle of the restaurant, where we can order a meal.

He asks us where things stand. We give him a brief update, including that we now think David is in Miran Shah, Pakistan, the stronghold of the Haqqani Taliban network. The FBI has traced earlier calls and video communications to this region. Holbrooke promises to check with the FBI and CIA. He will be traveling to the region soon and says he will raise David’s case with Pakistani officials. We think this is the most efficient use of his energy, as we believe the Pakistani intelligence agencies may be able to get word to the Haqqanis and pressure them to release our three or prompt a resolution to negotiations.