MUSTAFA PUFFS ON A cigarette. “This is not what I expected,” he says, dropping my report onto his desk. “I asked you to debunk this Kurdish nonsense. Instead you agree with them?”
I nod. “We must cancel the river diversion. On account of the island.”
His eyes narrow. “I hope you're not accusing the military of anything.”
“This has nothing to do with the military, or the PKK. Or anything human. I swear to you, Mustafa, there are things that must stay on that island!”
Mustafa bites his lip. “Indeed. I've thought about this, Ahmet, and I've decided the best thing is for you to take a holiday. A long holiday, so you can recover your faculties. I'll extend your upcoming leave by six weeks.”
“But...”
“Had this been anyone else, I might have arranged your dismissal. But you're a good worker
