A Rope and a Prayer by David Rohde, Kristen Mulvihill Page A

information in hopes of prosecuting this crime in the future.
    Over time our family becomes frustrated with the one-way flow of information. We often feel we’re helping the FBI a great deal more than they’re helping us, and we need someone dedicated to our goal, on our side. For these reasons, the paper along with Lee and I soon decide to hire an outside security firm to conduct negotiations.
    I am suddenly thrust into an atmosphere of intrigue that is both political and personal. This is a sharp contrast to my daily life at the magazine, and to my entire world before November 10. My objective is to do everything possible to keep David alive, to leave no stone unturned in this process, and to stay sane and healthy.
    Lee and I meet regularly with U.S. government officials, Pakistani officials, security contractors, and private advisers. I develop love-hate relationships with all of them. I eventually form a solid camaraderie with three people: my brother-in-law, the legal counsel for The New York Times , and one other individual, who is operating from overseas—a well-connected Irish national who tries to help via his own network in Pakistan.
    As Cathy and John depart and my training comes to an end, I reflect on the long day behind me. I have embarked on a journey through uncertainty, intrigue, and duplicity. It will challenge all my previous understanding of what faith, love, and commitment mean. I think about David. My husband is a strong-willed, patient individual. Slow and steady wins the race is a phrase he often iterates. It is a philosophy of sorts. I am also comforted by the fact that David is most likely the sharpest person in the room, possessing a rare understanding of Afghan culture as well as human nature. And he is a cat with nine lives. I know he will do all he can to keep himself and his fellow captives alive. I know he wants to come home. This is my greatest hope.
     
     
    Five days have passed since I first heard about the kidnapping, and I’ve made it through the initial shock. I am now on a steady incline—a steep learning curve. Everything seems beyond my control. I feel the need to gather as much information as possible to have some sense of David’s experience and understanding of the region.
    David gave me the password to his e-mail account during a recent conversation from Afghanistan before he vanished. He does this periodically, when Internet access is limited, so I can check his account for important e-mails and relay information to him over the phone.
    I log in to his e-mail account from my laptop while sitting on the couch. My sense of boundaries, privacy, and personal space are outweighed by the need to figure out what to do. I hope to find some clue about his situation. I look through the most recent e-mails for anything pertaining to Afghanistan or Logar Province, the site of the fateful interview. I am loosely familiar with some of David’s sources. I search for names of people known to be in the region at present and for whom he has expressed trust in the past.
    I write to Marin Strmecki, an Afghanistan expert and former adviser to the Bush administration who also has contacts in the Afghan government. I e-mail the Pakistani journalist and Taliban expert Ahmed Rashid, whom I met with David on a trip to Pakistan in March 2008. He has written several books about Afghanistan and Pakistan, including Taliban and Descent into Chaos . He is moved by our situation and provides his personal assessment of what, perhaps, the motivation of the kidnappers might be. He advises me to keep the case out of the public eye for the moment. He does not think the Taliban will succumb to moral pressure—the argument that holding a journalist is wrong—and he warns that David could become a political pawn or bargaining chip if his case receives media attention.
    David’s colleagues at the paper are tremendously supportive. Michael Moss, a friend of David’s and fellow reporter in the paper’s