Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- Death Begins with the Loss of Our Cities…
- Are You Going to Be a Killer?
- An Idea Whose Time Has Come
- Your Decision
- Dogs Smelling Blood on a Hunt
- The Meaning of This Empire for Us
- Confronting Death
- The Ancient Wound
- The Essence of the State
- Becoming the Hunted
- Like Two Wistful Flowers
- The World's Greatest Mystery
- The Love That Will Never Fade
- What Does a Single Individual Matter?
- A Game of Revenge
- The Motherland Is Lost
- The Only Thing Keeping Me Alive
- No Intention of Surrendering
- A Man's Word Is His Honour
- An Inappropriate Sense of Compassion
- A Token of a Conversation
- I Am Not the One to Decide
- Miracles
- The Ability to Forgive Ourselves
- Losing One's Humanity
- No Choice But to Fight
- Give Me an Honourable Death
- The Walking Dead
- Save Yourself, Soldier
- Wishing for Help from the Dead
- Resign, Your Excellency!
- A False Sense of Security
- The True Power in the Land
- Betrothed to Life, Married to Death
- When the Wolf Dies in the Forest
- This Is Not Ankara
- Vultures Circling Over an Old Man
- Ignoble Alliances
- A Betrayal of Their Own History
- Fighting for a Lost Cause
- Evil Stalks This Land
- A Malevolent Rain
- A Fragmented Homeland, a Disintegrating World
- Turning Us All into Killers
- When I Began Losing My Country
- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland
- Glossary
No Choice But to Fight
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- Death Begins with the Loss of Our Cities…
- Are You Going to Be a Killer?
- An Idea Whose Time Has Come
- Your Decision
- Dogs Smelling Blood on a Hunt
- The Meaning of This Empire for Us
- Confronting Death
- The Ancient Wound
- The Essence of the State
- Becoming the Hunted
- Like Two Wistful Flowers
- The World's Greatest Mystery
- The Love That Will Never Fade
- What Does a Single Individual Matter?
- A Game of Revenge
- The Motherland Is Lost
- The Only Thing Keeping Me Alive
- No Intention of Surrendering
- A Man's Word Is His Honour
- An Inappropriate Sense of Compassion
- A Token of a Conversation
- I Am Not the One to Decide
- Miracles
- The Ability to Forgive Ourselves
- Losing One's Humanity
- No Choice But to Fight
- Give Me an Honourable Death
- The Walking Dead
- Save Yourself, Soldier
- Wishing for Help from the Dead
- Resign, Your Excellency!
- A False Sense of Security
- The True Power in the Land
- Betrothed to Life, Married to Death
- When the Wolf Dies in the Forest
- This Is Not Ankara
- Vultures Circling Over an Old Man
- Ignoble Alliances
- A Betrayal of Their Own History
- Fighting for a Lost Cause
- Evil Stalks This Land
- A Malevolent Rain
- A Fragmented Homeland, a Disintegrating World
- Turning Us All into Killers
- When I Began Losing My Country
- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland
- Glossary
Summary
Hello Ester (Evening, Day 8)
All my fears have come true, one by one. I wasn't wrong. There is somebody out there trying to drag me into a bloody plot. And somebody close to me, too. Someone who smiled at me and shook my hand and looked ready to help but who in actual fact was digging my grave. It was this afternoon that I finally grasped this terrible truth, when I walked into Cezmi's house and saw his lifeless body lying in a pool of blood. That's right, this afternoon…
I left the hotel late in the afternoon. Of course, before setting off, I looked around for anything usual and I kept my eyes open for any strange activity after I'd got into the carriage but there was nobody following me. That did not, of course, mean I could relax. When we arrived at his street in Langa Bostanları, I did not get out in front of his house. I paid the driver at the end of the street and then began walking back to the house once he had disappeared. If anybody had been following me, it would have been impossible for me not to notice on that dim, sunless one-way street. But there was still nobody there.
The garden gate was not closed but I didn't attach too much significance to it. Maybe Cezmi Bey had left it open. I walked beneath the fruit trees up to the front of his house. Silence reigned in the garden. Save for the faint chirping of some sparrows, there was not a sound to be heard. When I neared the house, I noticed that the divan we had sat on out front two days ago was unoccupied. Knowing he would not be one to sit inside on such a stiflingly hot day, I looked around but the old warhorse was nowhere to be seen. I called out to him but there was no answer so I walked over to the veranda and called out to him again. ‘Major Cezmi… Mister Cezmi, sir… Are you there?’ Not a sound. Seeing as the garden gate had been left open, perhaps he'd gone out and was signalling to me that he would be back soon?
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- Information
- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland , pp. 317 - 332Publisher: Anthem PressPrint publication year: 2019