Shireen turned on the radio at five o'clock in the evening. 1983 was the year the Mujahideen sustained numerous casualties in the northern provinces. She turned down the noise to a soft hum and watched the woman seated across from her through the vapours of her hot tea.

"Sitting here and pretending nothing is wrong isn't going to cut it." Shireen talked softly to her, as if trying to help a young kid understand an observation. The forty-year-old school principal was an attractive woman with gentle eyes. She wore her jet-black hair in a stylish bun, her muted determination overshadowing her exquisite looks.

"Do you intend taking on a superpower with your girl scouts?" Zainab, Shireen's closest friend and confidante, as well as a fellow educator, inquired earnestly. "The city is crawling with Russians."

"We can help our men battle the outsiders across the country by giving them crucial information beforehand," Shireen said.

"Our girls are trainable," she continued.

Zainab's stunned eyes enlarged. "Teach them? They're simply schoolgirls. They're not combatants."

"You..." Zainab cleared her throat. "Are you suggesting that these girls will spy against the Soviets and steal top secret data from their lairs?"

"Your childlike fantasies about female resistance groups are based on tales you read about European wars inside your father's library. Are you ignorant of our social customs and cultural norms?" Zainab continued her conversation while Shireen patiently listened, surveying her empty mug and clutching it with both hands. She would nod her head occasionally to indicate her conviction and compassion for her perspective.

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"Can you imagine these girls treading the streets of Kabul late at night as undercover couriers or hiding from the enemy in barns in the countryside?"

"I am sorry if I sounded rude, but your strategy puts the lives and honour of these young girls, who have a highly conservative background, at stake. Our men have bravely battled against all challenges in the past, demonstrating that war is a man's domain."

"Imagine the agony they would face if the government discovered them—the unending mental and physical torment they would face. The government would use public humiliation and character assassination to deter others from defying it."

"Most people would welcome death as a tangibly agreeable substitute." Zainab felt she had pleaded her case well, leaving her best friend with less leverage to champion her cause.

After a short pause Shireen looked up at Zainab, "My dear, it's inevitable that they will relocate their families to their newly acquired colony and employ us as housekeepers and maids. They require tranquillity in the capital, which is why they have provided us with support thus far. The Mujahideen are fighting for every inch of our territory, keeping the Soviet Union and its goons at bay on multiple fronts. However, the element of surprise is the only way to overcome their significant technological advantage."

"We can provide that advantage to our forces, ensuring their preparedness for the enemy and preserving a significant portion of our troops and assets."

"The general's daughter!" Zainab chuckled in her head.

As if she had read her mind, Shireen looked at Zainab, raised an eyebrow and narrated a passage from one of her father's books in a decorous tone: "Forces can succeed considerably beyond proportion to the amount of effort put in by aiming for surprise."

Both laughed impulsively.