The potato chipper, p.10
The Potato Chipper, page 10
Things got worse when the next pistol we fired required a constant re-cocking of the trigger (by continuous pulling back of the slide). In fairness, this could have been caused by faulty ammunition. While at times alarming, it was certainly a lot of fun to blast dismantling guns and the old saying of ‘if you don’t have a sense of humour, don’t join’ certainly sprang to mind. We were however greatly in need of some confidence inspiring weaponry. We therefore turned to the trusted Kalashnikov and true to form, weren’t disappointed as adequate accuracy was married with outstanding reliability, even when the external visage suggested a gun that was about to fall to pieces even when covered in mud and dust. After about three hours or so, we had sufficiently tested our mini-arsenal and threaded our way back through the Kabul traffic to our villa. I had one more goal that I wanted to carry out before heading out to Dubai.
8. National Directorate of Security
Towards the end of January 2010, I had decided that I wanted to seek out a wider circle of information sources than the mostly open, media and embassy ones that we were using. Many of these were, in my eyes, generic and cyclical with only basic value. One of my Operations Room Local Nationals, the Tajik lad that was in the ops room during the aforementioned incident, had a friend who was a low level NDS operative and after innocuously bringing up the subject of this guy, I bluntly put it to Farhad that it would be useful for the three of us to meet this guy, one afternoon for a mutual exchange of information.
Farhad laughed and said that there was “very little chance of that as he doesn’t tell me anything.” I was undeterred and pressed him to at least ask. Fast forward a few days and I was preparing to meet with a senior NDS official. Farhad told me that we would be picked up by his NDS friend and his boss and then driven to a bar. I briefed my Country Manager Will who was ‘in the area’ of my intentions and Steve gave me a stun grenade which I strategically placed in my thick, padded Schott Jacket to pop out if I felt that I were being set up and things were about to go badly awry. My pistol loaded and ready to go was tucked down my trouser front with a hanging checked shirt covering it but permitting fast access.
I could feel a surge in my gut and lower legs that reminded me of the surveillance work around London that I had done only two years before. I had decided to take a physical ‘gift’ or offering for our possible business partners and that was placed in the back of the discreet silver Toyota SUV as we were picked up outside our villa. We rolled on to the busy one way street and while the two guys I was with were heavily armed with weapons visible throughout the foot well areas, my initial blink moments on locking eyes with the two suggested that they were honest but focused and that they weren’t going to mess about – just what I wanted to see.
Amazingly, we only drove about a mile around a square block and were heading back on an adjacent road in the direction of our villa when we stopped about four hundred metres from our villa. I had noticed another vehicle drop in behind us and as we stopped, four guys jumped out with Ak variant weapons to stop the traffic as we crossed the road and entered a Shisha/Nargila smoking bar. As I entered, I stopped momentarily at the entrance to take in the room and while some people did subtly glance up at my white, fresh complexion, most were curious, although not unduly perturbed by the six guys who were walking in the door with Ak variant rifles, held in a non-threatening posture, mostly dressed in western attire, with sweatshirts or jumpers with a jacket. I tapped the stun grenade in my pocket as any hint of an abduction attempt or other shenanigans would have seen me pop this on to the rugs, principally to disorientate the whole room and give me a chance of escaping. I was however not unduly worried by what I’d seen thus far although it was apparent that I was meeting a more senior figure than I’d bargained for. What the heck, let it play out were my thoughts. I was already immersed in the swimming pool.
Farhad who had come along to translate motioned for me to push up to the back and take up an area reserved for Shisha smoking. It was something that I’d never seen before. An open area with a smart Persian rug and a smoking pipe in the middle. We were near to a back door, so I made a mental note of that and at least I was near to my villa, so could make it back there on foot should we require it. It was then that I took my shoes off and placed my back against the wall as I sat on the rug, cross legged and I felt poised and relatively calm. Two of the guys that had come in just behind us sat on the rug with us and through Farhad, I maintained a level of cordial, informal conversation about general stuff. Two of the other guys were sitting near the front door with their weapons overtly held as a deterrent to anybody who felt like trying anything on. I realised that the other two guys were probably outside keeping an eye on the general perimeter.
After a short period, three men entered through the front door at a swift pace. The guy in the middle who was thickset, roughly five foot eleven inches, wearing jeans and a black woollen jumper came and sat down next to me. He had a haircut that was reminiscent of what Saddam Hussein had, although his face was more rounded and while he carried a moustache, it had a broader, thicker nature than Saddam’s. He, as I was soon to find out was the main guy of the contingent and certainly carried an Afghan’ Alpha male persona. We exchanged pleasantries, a shaking of the hands, followed by our respective slight bowing of the heads (with an over my eyes thank you and pleased to meet you message) accompanied by a tapping of the heart area to show respect.
Through our interpreter, he introduced himself as Najib and straight away, I could see that we had a basis for discussion. The first four to seven seconds of an interaction essentially decide how it was going to play out, and I felt a certain confidence that a level of trust was in place. However, that’s no reason to be complacent and after he had told me that he was the Second in Command for the Kabul NDS (equivalent of the UK’s MI5) before showing me an identification badge, he promptly asked me who I was and why I wanted to meet him. After assessing my bearings and internally levelling myself as I hadn’t reckoned on a meeting with such a high-level player, I slowly explained myself, my background, how I had arrived in Afghanistan before explaining that my role was primarily to mitigate risk for Mining Resource Engineers that were developing the country’s mineral wealth. Moreover, my job expanded also to assuring the safety of the diplomatic missions of four foreign embassies charged with assisting the Afghan’ government, securing and developing the prosperity of the country, along with other remits before showing him my government issued ID badge. I really laid that one on thick; the part about assisting the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan in its quest for a better standard of living.
At the beginning of my explanation, and as I was talking, I had quickly come to the conclusion that my initial plan to speak with a lower level NDS operative had likely been passed up the chain of command when the guy that had been approached on my behalf had possibly had doubts and had told his boss about a meeting with a mystery Irishman, before telling his boss, who told his boss, all under the suspicion that they were possibly being targeted for recruitment by a member of a foreign, potentially hostile intelligence service. While I never had confirmation on that, this was the only conclusion I could draw.
Fortunately to my advantage, I now had an opportunity, slightly due to luck, to develop a chain of communication, extremely high up in the NDS operation for the whole of the country which could assist in provision of local area NDS support for our clients to move forward. Some of our Japanese friends had the intention of conducing a move towards Kunar (near to where the Lone Survivor incident occurred) so any advice and support would be most welcome. However, in situations such as these, one needs to take stock and remember that in gaining information from allies, information must be passed over to these allies, who might have corrupt rotten apples in their midst; so, I was still treading cautiously. Moreover, I was becoming extremely lightheaded in a pleasant way having drawn smoke from a Shisha pipe for the best part of an hour during dialogue with Najib was still aware of the eight plus armed bodyguards that were dispersed around the room, four of whom were next to us.
I was however confident in the fact that I could see the front door, was near to a back door, and had a stun grenade in my pocket, along with a pistol ready to go, tucked down the front of my pants. Moreover, I had four armed guys and a senior security personality within the Kabul community on my side. I also knew that there were others outside securing us, and that their role had also been to ascertain whether I had a counter-surveillance team working for me, to look for their operatives, in case they were covert and to study operating patterns. I still don’t know whether any weed had been loaded into that Shisha pipe but it was certainly a good feeling as we called time on our meeting with an agreement to communicate through my local national, to whom he gave his mobile number, and any agreements or requests were to be directed through him.
We agreed that he would leave first with his guys a few minutes before ourselves and my final comment was that I and my interpreter had left a crate of beer with one of his staff for them all to enjoy later. They took off and we reflected for a few moments before we jumped into our wheels and threaded our way back to the villa.
After having smoked all that shit, good shit I must add, I didn’t want to eat or drink anything. I just went and spoke with Will and told him that an informal meeting had gone slightly beyond what I had planned, but in a good way. We had a possible ally for the future, for certain things. I was extremely content. Privately however, I felt very much that it was not something I would want to repeat lightly and I admitted that I had left myself open to being detained or even worse, kidnapped. Although I was carrying armaments, it would have been a tall order to have to get myself out of that situation, had it turned ugly. I remain of the belief that he decided to meet me above his subordinates because they were concerned that I was attempting to recruit my own informants and therefore might have been a spy. If I had not proved my authenticity and worth during our meeting, it all could have turned nasty at the worst with me being dragged off for a good going over. At best, it would have been a ‘thanks, but no thanks.’
To rewind our long conversation, I had explained to him that my desire to obtain an agreement for a mutual exchange of information was that I needed more surgical, higher level, (sensitive) information. I was grateful when he gave me a no-BS, realistic appraisal as to the grave situation surrounding the city. He effectively advised me that all movements by road, to the south, east and west of the city were hazardous and would have to pass through areas with a heavy Taliban presence, so you were to expect either an ambush, a roadside bomb or an illegal vehicle checkpoint to welcome you.
Only roads to the north were relatively secure. This matched my estimation of the situation but up until that point, I was only estimating without concrete facts and the embassy security departments of the UK/US administrations (generally the two that most people would look to for information) would only pass out vague warnings. Moreover, the city was surrounded, in his words, by forty suicide bomber cells numbering anywhere between three and eight men/women (some children) some primed and ready to go, and some dormant, awaiting instructions to move onto targets within the city. He further commented that at least three of the Police Districts (boroughs in Kabul City were called Police Districts abbreviated oddly enough to PDs) were heavily infiltrated with Taliban, Haqqani operatives with a further five having a presence of figures from the Boys in Black. He alluded to several truck bombs otherwise known as VBIEDs being in-situ in and around Kabul.
For him, this was probably lower to medium level information but for us, it was extremely useful as it could allow our clients to adjust road moves to avoid such areas. In his role, he would have the exact identities, addresses, aliases, residences and associates of Taliban/Haqqani enemy combatants, along with the specific roles of these individuals. For instance, he would want to know whether it was the Quartermaster/Weapons Supplier, a foot soldier, a suicide bomber or a sleeper (inactive members, but primed and ready to be activated) embedded within an organisation such as the police and army or a ministry passing us information. What he stated correlated with the general focus of attacks, so it was a good verification exercise for us. He also added that elements within Pakistan were complicit in these actions as they wished to dominate the political negotiating process that would decide the future of the country, and not have the US and other western powers conducting affairs of their own free will.
I was extremely content as I left for a few weeks off, including a skiing trip where having a frozen beard and core was the perfect yin antidote balance to my months of yang fire of energy, thinking and emotion as we had overcome all manner of obstacles. However, my experience of the country was such that as soon as one problem was resolved, the vacant space was, as Parkinson’s law dictated vis-a-vis work, filled by another problem; this time related to an Afghan’ government clampdown on ‘corruption’ or at least corruption as they interpreted it.
Key Learning Point: My meeting with this senior official was a risky proposition but one that significantly aided my efforts to fulfil my role in the country. Some would not be prepared to undertake such a meeting and I would not hold that against them. However, I am reminded of a quote from an American officer from the Vietnam War era who, during his West Point training was told in no uncertain terms by an instructor of the need to justify one’s excellent pay packet when considered against many more experienced Non-Commissioned Officers (NCO’s) who earned less money. He quoted his instructor as telling him at West Point on one occasion, saying, ‘sometimes you just must stand up and take some serious risks in the face of fire as an officer to show your worth. You will have NCO and Private soldiers around you who have more experience, more skills and are better than you in many ways, so to show that you offer something, get up, lead and be right at the front in the face of fire to show your leadership, as pure ‘management’ of a situation will not always suffice’.
9. Facilitation – NOT Greasing Palms
Enterprising Kabul Businessmen – Kabul Airport
Kabul was becoming an increasingly difficult place to operate in and was enduring a major spectacular assault like that witnessed on 18 January, every four to six weeks. Prior to that incident, in November 2009, a UN guest house had been assaulted only two hundred metres from ours, and it was only due to the heroic actions of one lone American security operative who stood and fought alone, while UN workers escaped out of the rear door, that more were not killed. A further episode occurred on 28 February when an Indian guest house only four hundred metres from our villa was targeted by a team of suicide bombers. The explosion was so big that we initially ‘stood to’ as we thought we were under attack. On realising that we were not (initially at least), we readied ourselves in case of a January style escalation.
From about March 2010, the Afghan government who realistically, at this time were only controlling Kabul, decided to start targeting private enterprises for alleged ‘tax evasion’, non-payment of licensing fees, and in the case of security companies, the holding of ‘illegal’ weapons, incorrect procedures etc. As much as individuals would attack this kleptocratic behaviour (which it is), it is no different from the behaviour of some western governments who are run by respectably dressed idiots who would be considered complete failures in the business world, but in politics, have the luxury to be able to offload their incurred debts on to their citizenry. Indeed, all governments seem to escalate this kind of activity when they are enduring times of (self-inflicted) crisis but in this case, I, and some of my brethren were directly in the firing line.
During my time in country, I had moved from location to location armed with at least a pistol, most of the time. When I was sitting in the passenger seat of a vehicle, I would tuck it under my thigh area, hidden from view, but in a position that I could subtly slip my hand underneath and draw it up rapidly to defend myself should I have felt that my life was being threatened. The only time when I wouldn’t carry a weapon was when I was going to an installation that would not permit me to enter with such implements, or if I were going to a bar for a social drink or two. The two clearly don’t mix and I was prepared to take that chance from time to time.
I was to review this policy as several peers had been arrested by the police and detained for carrying weapons while operating in the country on ‘tourist’ visas. I had been only granted one of these tourist visas for my recent trip having previously been granted a business visa. That hadn’t bothered me, as my sole aim was to get something that could get me into the country. However, later, the police started checking passports for residency status and with my new tourist/visit visa, I realised that adapting to the changing conditions was the only way to survive. I changed my dress from that of a contractor to that of a respectable, but casually dressed businessman with a more Germanic, Danish appearance. Quite often, subsequently, I was stopped at checkpoints with my local driver, and after having my passport scrutinised in detail, I was asked if I had any weapons. My answer, even when I was carrying, was a resounding no, as I rarely carried long weapons and I would gesture to the footwell demonstrating that there was nothing there, and they would wave us on, sometimes with a disappointed look that smacked of a lost opportunity for an arrest and facilitation attempt. My view on this was that weapon and a certain dress style marked you as somebody who was clearly working there, dressing casually carrying a brief case with no visible weapons, so they passed you as a business/visitor. It worked.
Not too long after my return, I could see that the situation for contractors had deteriorated and my colleagues briefed me, saying that the country management team of two guys who I answered to, as named bodies on our company’s operating licence, were now wanted for questioning by the Afghan government (GOA) for operating irregularities and their names had been put on a stop and detain list at the airport. The GOA had however offered to forgo all charges, not that anything had been proved, for a payment of a one million dollars fine.
