Dragon Fire

Constitution Avenue, Islamabad, Pakistan

Hamid Khan arrived for his meeting with the Prime Minister wearing full battle dress and travelling in an armoured personnel carrier. He led a column of ten M113 tracked vehicles down Constitution Avenue to the Parliament building, from X Corps’s 11 Brigade, the unit responsible for security in the capital. The column broke into the administrative nucleus of Pakistan, throwing a military cordon of roadblocks around it, sealing off the heart of the capital with a ring of battle-ready armour. Troops took up positions with heavy machine guns. Khan ordered an APC every 200 metres and a main battle tank at the junctions.

The cordon ran right along Ataturk Avenue Ramna 5, north through Ataturk Shalimar 5. Two T-59 tanks blocked the junction with Kyayaban-e-Iqbal, then the cordon of APCs ran around the back of the Prime Minister’s official residence, joining the narrow Nurpur Road and Fourth Avenue right down to the start of the diplomatic enclave, where Khan deployed another tank. Infantrymen with bayonets fixed to their G3 rifles were positioned as a human barrier between the armoured vehicles.

He avoided going into the diplomatic enclave itself and ran the cordon west along Isfahani Road, past the Australian, French, Japanese and Egyptian Embassies until it got to Khayaban-e-Suhrawardy. Troops moved into the main government buildings. Parliament House, the Cabinet Offices, the telephone exchange, the state-run television and radio complex and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs all fell within Khan’s cordon. The most substantive roadblock was across the highway into Islamabad from Rawalpindi where four T-59 tanks, their 105mm gun barrels horizontal, were parked across the road. An infantry battalion and two Huey Cobra helicopters were positioned behind them, with pilots ready in the cockpit.

Khan turned his 12.7mm machine gun towards the Parliament building. Commandos of the elite Cherat Special Services Group jumped out of the APCs and rushed in to reinforce troops who had just secured the building and its grounds. Not a shot was fired. Not an order was shouted.

The strange quiet which had suddenly enveloped the government buildings was broken by the roar of six F-16 fighters, screaming in at less than 500 feet from their base in Sarghoda. The pilots dipped their wings, circled and flew back again before heading north towards the Muree Hills.

Khan jumped down from his APC. He strode into Parliament House. Commandos, led by Masood, covered him from behind as if breaking cover on the front. He threw open the double doors to the Parliament chamber and walked to the front, his men covering every terrified member with their small-arms, then spreading right round the chamber and taking positions against the walls. Their machine pistols had full magazines, but no bullets in the breech, to prevent any soldier becoming trigger-happy. Khan himself was unarmed.

‘Sit down, everybody. Sit down,’ shouted Masood in both Urdu and English. ‘Don’t panic. This is a military takeover. We apologize for any inconvenience caused. You are requested to stay calm, stay down and listen to what we have to tell you.’

Khan mounted the steps to where the Speaker sat and turned to face the Parliament chamber: ‘Mr Prime Minister, please lead your cabinet team down to the exit door at the right of the chamber,’ he said. ‘Parliamentary staff, please assist my men in their job and do not attempt to resist. The remainder of the members must stay in their seats. Mr Prime Minister, will you lead your team. Now.’

The Prime Minister had to be yanked out of his seat by his right arm. He was paralysed more by shock than any desire to resist. Other members shuffled in an obedient line towards the exit. Only one, a Deputy Finance Minister, shouted in English: ‘This is a disgrace. I warn you, you will never get away with it.’ He was wrong. Fifteen minutes later, he was begging for his life.

With the cabinet held at gunpoint in the lobby area outside, Khan turned his attention back to the members. ‘I have taken over government, not for power or personal gain, but to save our country from bloodshed,’ he said. ‘Outside this lavish building, ordinary people are living difficult lives. You, the ruling classes, have let them down. When a citizen comes into contact with the government he faces indifference and extortion. And when they march on Parliament to complain, the Prime Minister commands my troops to shoot them with live ammunition.

‘No longer are Pakistani soldiers going to protect the ruling classes by killing Pakistani people. This afternoon, the government of Pakistan was the enemy of the people. As from this moment it will be their friend.

‘The educated youth believe that the solution to our problem lies with Islam, not in the ritual sense of beards, bombs and Jihad, but in the faith, discipline and loyalty which the religion brings to people all over the world. Those are the guiding principles of military life. They will now become the guiding principle of our whole country.’

Khan’s speech was met with complete silence. No applause. No objection. He stepped down from the platform and spotted Masood hovering in the doorway, his expression indicating that all was not well.

Outside the Parliament building, the members of the cabinet were being loaded into two trucks to be held in custody in a military barracks. The Deputy Finance Minister, Ahmed Magam, was refusing to climb up.

‘No! No!’ he was shouting. ‘I am not getting in and you will not force me.’ His voice was raised and as Khan approached he identified uncertainty on a few of the soldiers’ faces.

‘Get up,’ snapped Khan.

‘You will hang for this,’ spat Magam.

A cabinet colleague put a hand on Magam’s elbow. ‘Come on, man,’ he said. ‘Let’s do what they say.’

Magam shook off the hand and pushed his way past a soldier, who hesitated enough to let him get through. Khan took a pistol off the nearest soldier, put a round in the breech and held it at Magam’s head. ‘Get back in line. Now.’

Magam took the first half-step of a run. Khan tripped him, pushed him to the ground, face down, and fired a live round in the air inches from the minister’s head. Khan stepped back. ‘Do you want to die?’ roared Khan, emptying the breech, then reloading it again, so that the minister could hear the mechanism move.

‘No,’ Magam whimpered.

‘Do you want to live?’

‘Yes.’

‘Again. Tell me again.’

‘Yes. Yes, please.’

Khan secured the safety catch on the pistol and gave it back to the soldier. The minister, shaking, was helped to his feet by colleagues and climbed into the truck.