Angels Favorite Dream

16

Berk woke up early, his whole body aching from the discomfort of sleeping on bamboo mats. He stretched for a while to ease the stiffness. When he sat up and looked at Osman, who was sleeping next to him, he noticed that one of his eyes was open. It seemed Osman had stayed alert all night, wary of potential harassment from the soldiers.

Berk gently nudged Osman to wake him up. When there was no response and he was about to give up, Osman suddenly opened his eyes, got up quickly, and went outside to light a cigarette. Berk followed him. His hands trembled in the morning chill as he rolled tobacco from his pocket.

Osman took deep drags from his cigarette, inhaling the cold morning air, visibly uneasy. "Last night, I was scared the soldiers were going to cause us trouble," he said, his eyes fixed on the road.

Berk, trying to suppress his anxiety, said, "Honestly, that soldier who messed with me was a real pain. For a moment, I thought he might actually assault me. Luckily, the one who came later was much better."

Meanwhile, the soldiers who had arrived for the morning shift had set up a floor table and were having breakfast with the night shift soldiers. One of them motioned for Berk and Osman to join them. They looked at the food the soldiers were eating with their hands and exchanged uneasy glances. Despite their hunger, the food didn't look appetizing at all.

"No, thank you, we're not hungry," they said politely, declining the offer. The soldier then pointed at the teapot and said, "Then have some tea." Berk and Osman, suspecting it might have been made with dirty water, also refused. Instead, they lingered outside in the cold, smoking another cigarette.

It was nearing seven o'clock. According to the soldiers on the night shift, a police vehicle was supposed to arrive in the morning, but there was still no sign of it. Growing impatient, Berk called out to the newly arrived soldiers:

"We were told last night that a police vehicle would be here at seven," he said. "But there's still no sign of it. Can you check where it is?"

One of the soldiers took a sip of his tea and shrugged. "Just be patient, it'll be here soon," he said. This attitude only frustrated Berk further. They knew they had no choice but to wait, but the uncertainty was getting on their nerves.

Osman noticed the tense look on Berk's face. "Calm down, we don't really have another option. No matter how long it takes, they'll have to let us go eventually," he said.

After a while, the soldiers finally finished their breakfast. One soldier casually approached them and said the vehicle would arrive in five minutes at the latest. Thinking it was finally time to leave, Berk and Osman felt a sense of relief.

But fifteen minutes passed, and still, there was no vehicle. Seeing their growing unease, the soldiers, eager to get rid of them, flagged down a passing truck. One of the soldiers asked the driver to take Berk and Osman to the next checkpoint.

Initially, the driver was reluctant, irritated at the idea of taking on such responsibility. He argued with the soldier for a while, raising his voice. However, faced with the soldier's insistence, he reluctantly agreed to avoid further delay. Relieved, the soldier motioned for Berk and Osman to get in the back of the truck.

As they climbed into the truck, they saw their guard approaching. He smiled and waved at them. At first, they thought the guard was going to join them, but one of the soldiers said, "Your guard's duty ends here. He'll be returning to his post. You're now under our responsibility. The vehicle that was supposed to take you broke down. This driver will take you to the next checkpoint, where the vehicle for the rest of your journey is waiting."

After traveling all that way with a guard and spending the night in the middle of the desert, it felt strange to be put in an unprotected civilian vehicle. They also couldn't understand why the driver was hesitant to take on the responsibility of driving them just ten kilometers to the checkpoint. As fear crept in about what might happen next, the truck finally began to move.

The truck sped along the desolate roads of the Taftan Desert at 120 kilometers per hour, with the wind hitting their faces and chilling them to the bone. They were furious about having to leave the warm bus in the middle of the night, only to endure such a cold, unprotected journey.

"We paid to take the bus all the way to Quetta," Berk said through clenched teeth. "But now we're freezing in the back of a truck."

Osman nodded. "This journey seems like it's going to get even harder," he said, watching the vapor from his breath disappear into the air.

Despite all the setbacks, they still felt the trip was turning out to be the adventurous experience they'd imagined. Berk, trying to find some fun amidst the chaos, smiled at Osman.

"Now this is what I call an adventure!" he joked.

Osman replied, "Maybe there's something to make of this," and took out his camera to snap pictures of the surroundings. Berk didn't want to miss the moment either, so he grabbed his phone. The blurry photos he took from the swaying truck bed amused them. They made jokes to lighten the tense, boring atmosphere.

Their fun was soon replaced by anxiety. Berk, preoccupied with the uncertainty, fidgeted uneasily. "Something feels off, Osman. Do you really think they'll take us all the way to Quetta?" he asked, his voice slightly tense.

Osman took a deep breath and spoke calmly. "Relax, we've made it this far; we'll get through the rest of the journey somehow."

When they reached the checkpoint, they saw all the soldiers waiting outside for them. Berk could hardly believe it was true. It was the only thing they had been told since morning that had turned out to be true. For a moment, a sense of trust filled him.

One of the soldiers signaled Berk and Osman to wait as they prepared to take their bags. "Hold on for a bit," he said. Meanwhile, another soldier began speaking heatedly with the driver. Berk realized the soldiers were just trying to get rid of them as soon as possible.

"I think they're negotiating with the driver to take us to the next checkpoint," he said.

Osman watched the driver's gestures. "Exactly. They definitely want to get rid of us. The driver looks pretty upset."

Finally, the soldier accepted the driver's refusal to take them any further and asked Osman and Berk to get out. "Wait here, we're preparing the patrol vehicle," the soldier said as he walked away to get the keys. Another soldier approached and struck up a conversation with Osman and Berk.

"Where are you from?" he asked, smiling warmly.

Hoping things would move along quickly, Osman replied, "We're from Turkey."

The soldier's face lit up with a big smile. "We are brother countries," he said. "Turks and Pakistanis are like family. Are you Muslim?"

Osman answered, "Alhamdulillah."

The soldier was pleased with this response, giving Osman a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Very good," he said.

After a short wait, the military vehicle was ready, and they set off again. They were once again in a truck bed. At least this time, the bed was covered with a tarp, which offered some protection from the cold. Berk turned to the soldier accompanying them and asked, "Are we going all the way to Quetta in this vehicle?" He couldn't quite understand the response. The soldier just said, "The next one."

Not knowing where the journey would end, they sat silently. After a while, Berk, with a mischievous grin, said to Osman, "Isn't it kind of cool to have a guard carrying an Uzi with us?"

Osman looked uneasy because the journey wasn't going as planned, and he was in no mood for jokes. With a forced smile, he said, "Yeah. But it's also unsettling. Don't you remember what the soldiers said last night? This desert is under Taliban control."

Berk, trying to lighten the mood by making fun of the soldier's words, said, "Don't worry, they're our Muslim brothers." Thankfully, Osman softened a bit and began to smile.

A short while later, the vehicle suddenly stopped. Berk and Osman looked out nervously. The soldiers were talking to officers in a police car they had encountered. For a moment, they thought they would be switching vehicles again, but two people got out of the car. One was a police officer, and the other was a young man in his twenties. He looked like a criminal, but his hands weren't cuffed. The police officer put the man in the truck with Berk and Osman, then climbed into the back himself and greeted them. "Salaam alaikum."

Osman and the soldier replied, "Wa alaikum salaam." The vehicle then started moving again.

After a while, the police officer began slapping the young man. Osman and Berk watched in shock. The officer, seemingly feeling the need to explain himself, said, "He's a thief."

Osman smiled slightly and said, "I guess he thinks we're from a civilized country, so he feels the need to explain."

Berk pursed his lips and nodded. "If he knew what the police in Turkey do, he wouldn't bother explaining," he said.

After a while, they left the police officer and the criminal by the roadside. Osman looked around. "I guess there's a prison around here. The officer must be taking him there," he said. The vehicle then continued on its way.

Soon, they finally reached a checkpoint. The soldier accompanying Berk and Osman said, "Get out here. The other soldiers will take over."

As soon as they got out of the vehicle, the heat hit them. Berk tried to make sense of the sudden change in temperature. "What is this? Just a few hours ago we were freezing, and now it's this hot?"

Osman, with a wise tone, tried to explain. "That's desert weather for you; when the sun is up, it scorches, but at night the temperature drops suddenly, and you freeze."

A soldier approached them and greeted them, asking them, as always, to fill out forms. Osman sighed, "More forms again?" Berk, on the other hand, had gotten used to it and silently started filling out the form.

After they finished the forms, the soldier directed them to another waiting military vehicle. Osman couldn't help but ask, "Are we going to switch vehicles at every checkpoint?"

The soldier gave a short, indifferent reply. "Yes, it's the procedure."

This time, they set off without much delay. However, from the soldier's response, they understood that they would be stopping and switching vehicles every ten kilometers until they reached Quetta. Berk quickly calculated the distance in his head. "It's about two hundred kilometers to Quetta. So far, we've only covered twenty kilometers. We're stopping every ten kilometers... which means we have eighteen more checkpoints to go." He looked at Osman, visibly disheartened. "This journey is going to take even longer than we thought."

Osman grumbled, "Oh man, this is never going to end."

After traveling another ten kilometers, they arrived at a checkpoint where a larger group of soldiers was stationed. These soldiers were in high spirits. As soon as Osman and Berk got out of the vehicle, the soldiers began joking with them. Although Berk wasn't too fond of this familiarity, Osman was in high spirits. The soldiers said something to Osman in Urdu, then burst into laughter. In response, Osman began using Turkish slang and laughing along. Since no one could understand each other, the situation became increasingly absurd, and they all continued laughing together.

After a while, Osman, tired from laughing, came over to Berk. "These guys are definitely high. Stuck in the middle of the desert, they're probably smoking hash all day out of boredom," he said. Since they were near the Afghan border, Osman guessed that the drugs smuggled into Pakistan passed through this area. "I'm sure the drug traffickers bribe them with product," he added.

As time passed, Osman and Berk's energy began to drain. They were struggling to stay on their feet, so they smoked cigarette after cigarette to keep themselves awake. At one point, Berk suggested, "How about we take some pictures? Maybe moving around a bit will help wake us up."

Osman immediately agreed. He pulled out his camera and started taking pictures of the soldiers and the checkpoint. When the soldiers saw this, they came over, posing and joking around. But after a while, a stern, slightly chubby soldier approached Osman suspiciously and asked, "Are you Chinese?"

Osman, who had a more muscular build than most Chinese people and didn't have particularly slanted eyes, gave the soldier a look that said, "Are you messing with me?" and replied, "No, I'm Kurdish."

Berk burst out laughing when he heard the soldier's question. "They asked us where we're from when we got here, and even asked if we're Muslim. Whatever they've been smoking, I want some too. They forget what we told them five minutes ago."

Osman looked at the stern soldier with a sarcastic smile and said, "Yeah, forgetting things is pretty normal. They're quite advanced mentally."

After waiting for another half hour, their vehicle finally arrived. Despite the soldiers' arrogance, they said their goodbyes in a friendly manner and got back on the road.

They continued stopping every ten kilometers to complete the necessary formalities and change vehicles. However, the waiting times grew longer; initially no more than half an hour, the waits gradually stretched to one or two hours. They hadn't eaten anything since their meal in the village of Taftan. They'd only had a few snacks on the bus. Their cigarettes had run out as well. Since they hadn't come across any settlements along the way, they had no opportunity to buy anything. They were in rough shape.

Eventually, Osman gave in and said, "This whole journey was a foolish decision."

Berk took a deep breath and put his head in his hands. "Why did I even start this journey?" he asked himself. Reflecting on his situation, he thought, "What's the point of going through all this suffering just to see a woman I'm not even sure loves me?" Berk began deeply questioning whether this journey was just a whim and whether all this hardship was really worth it to see Zoe.

It was now three in the afternoon, but the 200-kilometer journey they had started at seven in the morning was still not over. As they neared the end of the road, Berk and Osman were increasingly frustrated by the extended wait times at each checkpoint. Berk frequently found himself arguing with the soldiers. He knew that arguing with soldiers in a foreign country, in the middle of the desert, was foolish, but he couldn't control his temper. Despite being aware of the situation, the pressure inside him drove him to lose control, and he often ended up shouting. Fortunately, the soldiers were patient with him and tried to calm him down. They were remarkably tolerant of foreigners.

Berk desperately needed a cigarette. He asked an older soldier for one, but the man handed him a packet of naswar. None of the Pakistani soldiers smoked; they all used naswar, a paste-like substance similar to what a taxi driver in Iran had used. For a moment, Berk considered trying the naswar, but since he was hungry, he decided against it. He didn't want to try an unfamiliar substance on an empty stomach. With a throbbing headache from nicotine withdrawal, he decided to roll some weed he'd brought with him. At least it would alleviate his nicotine craving and help him relax a bit.

Knowing the journey would be long, Berk had taken precautions and hidden some weed in his shoe. Having worked at an airport, he knew how to get through security without getting caught. Body scanners couldn't detect weed, unless they ran into a dog. Berk wasn't careless enough to put the weed in his bag, knowing it could easily be spotted in the x-ray machine.

He pulled the weed out of his shoe and waved it at Osman. Osman's eyes widened in surprise. Already stressed from the lack of cigarettes, Osman nearly cried tears of joy at the sight of the weed. "How did you manage to bring that all the way from Istanbul without getting caught?" he asked, astonished.

With a proud grin, Berk said, "Thanks to years of experience working at the airport."

They moved out of the soldiers' sight and stepped aside. Berk began rolling the weed. The old soldier who had offered him naswar earlier approached, seemingly suspecting something was going on. Berk didn't care if the man caught them; all he wanted was to relax a bit. Fortunately, the old soldier either didn't understand what was happening or ignored it, given that weed use was common here.

After taking a few drags, Berk's face relaxed into a smile, and he passed it to Osman. Osman took a couple of drags too and, feeling relieved, said, "Oh, finally!" They quickly finished the joint and returned to the soldiers. Upon seeing them, the soldiers repeated what they'd been saying for the past hour. "The vehicle will be here soon."

This time, however, Berk replied in a calm voice, "No problem, we'll wait."

The soldiers couldn't understand Berk's sudden change of demeanor. The old soldier said something to the others, as if explaining that Berk had smoked weed earlier. The soldiers found it amusing and were glad about the calming effects of the weed.

After waiting for over an hour, a sedan finally pulled up at the checkpoint. The driver rolled down the window and said something to the soldiers, who gestured for Berk and Osman to get in. Berk and Osman were happy to finally enjoy a comfortable ride in a regular car after the long wait. They quickly got in and set off. Judging by his different uniform, they assumed the driver was a high-ranking officer. He spoke good English and started chatting with them.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"Turkey," Osman replied.

The officer nodded in acknowledgment. Then came the expected question. "Are you Muslim?"

Berk quickly answered, "Yes, Alhamdulillah."

A slight smile spread across the officer's face. "So, how are things in Turkey? Politically, I mean," he asked.

Osman squinted slightly and sighed. "It's complicated. Our government... well, it's not the best time politically for us."

The officer seemed intrigued. He'd probably heard in the media that Turkey was enjoying a golden age. "I see. But economically? Trade?"

At this point, Berk chimed in. "Trade is still strong, but things are tense."

The officer sighed deeply. "It's the same everywhere these days."

This brief conversation helped Berk and Osman relax a little. Encountering an educated officer made them feel like they were getting closer to Quetta. According to Osman's research, Quetta was a large city. Being near the borders of countries like Iran and Afghanistan, it was one of Pakistan's major trade hubs. Because of this, Berk imagined the city as a modern place with tall skyscrapers. They were getting closer to civilization.

When they arrived at the checkpoint, they saw yet another group of soldiers. As they got out of the car, they thanked the officer. He wished them luck for the rest of their journey before driving off.

Berk and Osman assumed the soldiers were waiting for them again, but they soon realized it was shift change time. The arriving vehicles were dropping off the soldiers coming on duty and picking up those whose shifts were over. That's when Berk and Osman understood why they had waited for over an hour at the previous checkpoint—it was shift change time, and the vehicles were transporting soldiers to their posts. They had just happened to catch the officer heading home from his shift.

Since they were at the end of the road, they no longer minded the waiting. They were exhausted, not only from the long journey but also from arguing with the soldiers. Their only goal now was to catch the 7 p.m. bus to Karachi. It was 4 p.m., and they had three hours left.

Osman said hopefully, "A few more checkpoints to go. We'll make it."

Berk sighed, nodding. "I hope so..."

Osman, staying optimistic, said, "If we don't make it by seven, there's another bus at eleven. We can catch that one; we won't have lost too much time."

After a while, some curious soldiers approached. A young soldier, looking as though he was seeing foreign tourists for the first time, seemed excited. Berk's unusual appearance must have caught his attention because he quietly took out his phone and snapped a few photos. Berk took a deep breath, wanting to move away—he had no energy left for conversation.

After waiting for half an hour, Berk and Osman, struggling to keep their silence, couldn't hold back any longer and started asking the soldiers when they would leave. It seemed as if the soldiers had been waiting for them to lose their patience, as they suddenly began preparing the vehicle.

Osman took a deep breath and muttered, "Finally..."

Berk, however, was irritated. "Why did it take so long? Are they testing our patience or something?" he grumbled.

Once they got in the vehicle, Berk asked the soldier next to him, "How many more checkpoints until we reach Quetta?"

The soldier, whose English wasn't very good, paused for a moment, trying to find the words, and said, "Uh... two more."

Berk felt a bit relieved by this answer. However, the soldier tried to explain that there would be another security check once they reached Quetta, but he struggled to find the right words.

Berk frowned. "What are you saying? Are we changing vehicles again in Quetta?"

The soldier mumbled something, but it wasn't clear. Osman stepped in, speaking patiently, "I think he's trying to say there will be another security check within the city." The soldier nodded in agreement. Berk muttered a curse under his breath and closed his eyes. The uncertainty was exhausting.

At one point, the young soldier nudged Berk awake. When Berk opened his eyes, he saw the soldier showing him some inappropriate videos on his phone. Looking at Osman, Berk said, "This guy seriously has issues."

Finally, they reached the checkpoint at the tunnel that connected the Taftan desert to Quetta. However, as they got closer to the city, the weather turned, and it began to drizzle. Berk, with a weary expression, grumbled, "And now it starts raining. I really can't figure out the weather here."

Thankfully, the soldiers at the last checkpoint handled the paperwork quickly. After getting into the vehicle, Berk and Osman weren't sure if they were headed to the bus station, thanks to the young soldier's confusing directions. Still, they were in better spirits now that they had made it to Quetta safely.

After a while of silence, Osman laughed and said, "I never thought we'd have such an action-packed journey in our lives."

Berk smiled. "Seriously... Everything that could have happened did!"

Osman nodded. "This trip will be hard to forget. Every moment felt like an adventure."

Berk laughed. "Honestly, we could put action movies to shame."

But when they entered Quetta, disappointment awaited them. Just when Berk and Osman thought they had reached civilization, they found themselves in a flooded city. Looking around in disbelief, Berk asked, "Is this really Pakistan's most important city?" The sewage system seemed to have overflowed; there was mud everywhere, and the air was filled with a foul odor.

Osman, somewhat embarrassed, said, "That's what I read online. I don't understand why they hyped it up so much either."

Berk didn't dwell on it too much, knowing they wouldn't be staying in Quetta for long. But deep down, he wondered what Karachi would be like. "If this is an important city, what must the rest of Pakistan be like?" he said.

After traveling through the city for a while, the vehicle stopped. The soldier told Berk and Osman to get out. They were disappointed when they realized they had to change vehicles again. The journey seemed endless, and this would be the twenty-first vehicle they had switched to.

Berk turned to Osman, exhausted, and said, "I don't know where this is going anymore."

Osman, who seemed used to the situation, just nodded.

When they got out of the vehicle, the soldier, with his weapon in hand, stood guard for Berk and Osman, escorting them to the waiting vehicle. After handing them over to the two police officers, he returned to his vehicle with the demeanor of someone whose duty was complete. Now that they had crossed the desert and entered the city, they were under the police's jurisdiction.

Once they got into the armored vehicle, Berk and Osman looked around in awe. Berk asked, "What kind of city have we come to that we're continuing in an armored vehicle?" Both of them were confused. Suddenly, they felt like they were in an American action movie.

Osman let out a genuine laugh. "Feels like we're secret agents, doesn't it?"

Berk laughed too. "Seriously. It's like we're carrying state secrets."

As the final moments of their journey were filled with uncertainty and excitement, the vehicle stopped. The back door opened, and this time, other police officers asked Berk and Osman to get out and follow them. They were placed into an armored tactical vehicle, similar to those used by SWAT teams.

As the vehicle started moving, one of the police officers asked, "Where are you going?"

Berk replied, "We're taking a bus to Karachi. It leaves at seven. Are we headed to the bus terminal?"

But the officer seemed to ignore their answer and asked, "Do you have an NOC document?"

Berk looked at Osman in confusion, but when Osman didn't respond, Berk had to speak up. "We don't have any such document. We're just trying to get to Karachi. We need to reach the bus terminal by seven," he said, his voice growing impatient.

The officers spoke among themselves for a moment but continued driving without any explanation. After a while, they stopped again, and the officers told them to get out and join the waiting policemen. "You'll continue with them."

When Berk and Osman approached the police, they tried to get into the vehicle, but one of the officers stopped them and asked again, "Do you have an NOC document?"

Berk's patience was wearing thin. In a harsher tone, he said, "What is an NOC document? Can you explain it to us? We don't have one. We're just trying to get to Karachi."

The officer replied indifferently. "Fine, get in the vehicle. We'll take you to a hotel."

This response only made Berk angrier. "We don't want to stay at a hotel! We need to get to the bus terminal to go to Karachi," he said, his voice growing harsher.

After a brief conversation among themselves, the officers said, "Okay, get in the vehicle."

Berk and Osman got in, thinking the officers had finally understood them. However, Berk had a lingering doubt. "I hope we're finally going to the bus terminal," he said, his voice trembling with frustration.

As they drove on, Berk remained silent for a while before asking, "Why is this so difficult? Is traveling in this country really this complicated?"

Osman, staring out the window, stayed quiet; it was clear he had a lot on his mind too.

Trying to gather his thoughts, Berk said, "We had a long journey to the border city in Iran, but it wasn't this tough. Why is getting to Karachi such a big deal?"

Osman took a deep breath. "This is Pakistan. Maybe everything is this complicated because of the terror threat."

Although Berk acknowledged that this explanation made sense, everything they were experiencing still felt meaningless to him.

After a while, the vehicle left the main road and drove through narrow streets, eventually stopping in front of a building. When Berk and Osman saw the sign reading "Hotel," they realized where they had been brought. The realization that they had been taken to a hotel for no apparent reason made them even more anxious. Berk, overwhelmed with anger, got out of the car and threw his bag to the ground. "Why are we here? What is going on?" he shouted at the police. However, the officers just said, "Calm down," and quickly walked into the hotel. Their refusal to answer made Berk even angrier.

Fuming, they waited outside until the police called Berk and Osman to come into the hotel. Berk shouted back, "I'm not going into the hotel. If you have something to say, come here!" He knew that if he had reacted to the police like this in his own country, he probably would have been detained. But here he was, in a more dangerous country, acting without thinking. The officers remained calm and approached Berk again. One of them tried to defuse the situation, saying, "The hotel manager will come and explain everything." But Berk just couldn't stop; he couldn't control his anger, and his voice kept rising. "I don't want to talk to anyone. Just take us to the bus station!" he continued to shout.