among them.
The walls showed signs of repair. Ill-cut boards covered holes, and the holes were packed with mud. No windows broke the walls, but gun ports showed at regular intervals. The buildings wouldn't stand against much more than the wind and the winter, but no Russian forces could put a tank in those hills, and no Russian soldier had ever reached them.
"Come," Bislan said. "You will eat, then we will talk business."
Taburova followed the man. Bislan's limp had worsened. He didn't have many good years left. Taburova wondered if the Russians would take him or if the mountain might finally claim the old warrior.
A cold breeze climbed inside Taburova's coat and caused him to shiver.
Bislan noticed. "Oh, so you let a little gust of wind bother you?"
Taburova shrugged.
"Do you grow soft while you live down in those cities?" Bislan taunted.
"Not in my heart," Taburova replied.
The old man slapped Taburova on the shoulder and laughed. The sound echoed in the surrounding mountains and reminded Taburova of how far he'd come.
"Before we eat," Taburova said, "let me see the women." That was what he had come all this way for.
* * *
Panicked voices came from inside the small shed not far from the house Bislan had claimed. Taburova heard the fearful whispers from within as one of Bislan's men opened the locks on the door. Scars covered the wooden walls and the building canted drastically to one side.
A noxious stench filled Taburova's nostrils and he stepped back.
"It is a foul mess inside," Bislan warned. "Just last week one of them tried to escape."
"Did she escape?"
Bislan smiled grimly. "Not with my young wolves patrolling the mountain."
Several of the young warriors laughed at that.
"But they were told what the punishment would be if one of them tried something like that. They have been locked in this room for three weeks and not allowed to bathe or care for themselves." Bislan shrugged. "It would have been better if we had eaten before visiting them."
Taburova took out his flashlight and waited as the door swung open on creaking hinges. More scuttling came from within.
One of the young men stepped into the building. He carried a baton in one hand. "You will stay back if you know what's good for you." He shone the flashlight he held in his other hand around the room.
Taburova breathed through his mouth to avoid some of the stench. Waste buckets occupied corners of the room, but they obviously weren't emptied on a regular basis.
The women huddled in the back of the building. They held each other. In the darkness it was hard to make out any details.
"How many?" Taburova asked.
"Eleven," Bislan replied.
Eleven was less than Taburova was hoping for. Still, it was enough to make a difference. That was all he had to do.
He stepped forward and shone the light on his face. "My name is Mayrbek Taburova. I'm here to offer you a chance to save your doomed souls. Listen to me and I will give you a way to enter the gates of heaven."
19
Leicester
Ajza stood still and silent in the darkness a short distance from the MINI Cooper. Heat from an open thermos briefly fogged the driver's-side window. The smell of tea tainted the night air. She could hear the two men talking.
"I don't know where you're putting all that tea, mate," the man who'd introduced himself as Jason said.
"Keeps me awake and alert," the other man replied.
"Yeah, I could bloody well tell that from all the snoring you were doing a few minutes ago."
"Is it really bad?"
"Look at my ears. Am I bleeding from them."
The other man waved Jason away. "Piss off."
"I should be bleeding from the ears, I tell you." Jason kept his eyes on the shop. "Why do you think we're supposed to keep an eye on this woman?"
"We were told to protect her."
Ajza filed that away. She didn't know who would have told anyone to protect her. If she'd needed protection, her superiors at MI-6 would have told her she was in danger. So who were these two men and who had sent
The walls showed signs of repair. Ill-cut boards covered holes, and the holes were packed with mud. No windows broke the walls, but gun ports showed at regular intervals. The buildings wouldn't stand against much more than the wind and the winter, but no Russian forces could put a tank in those hills, and no Russian soldier had ever reached them.
"Come," Bislan said. "You will eat, then we will talk business."
Taburova followed the man. Bislan's limp had worsened. He didn't have many good years left. Taburova wondered if the Russians would take him or if the mountain might finally claim the old warrior.
A cold breeze climbed inside Taburova's coat and caused him to shiver.
Bislan noticed. "Oh, so you let a little gust of wind bother you?"
Taburova shrugged.
"Do you grow soft while you live down in those cities?" Bislan taunted.
"Not in my heart," Taburova replied.
The old man slapped Taburova on the shoulder and laughed. The sound echoed in the surrounding mountains and reminded Taburova of how far he'd come.
"Before we eat," Taburova said, "let me see the women." That was what he had come all this way for.
* * *
Panicked voices came from inside the small shed not far from the house Bislan had claimed. Taburova heard the fearful whispers from within as one of Bislan's men opened the locks on the door. Scars covered the wooden walls and the building canted drastically to one side.
A noxious stench filled Taburova's nostrils and he stepped back.
"It is a foul mess inside," Bislan warned. "Just last week one of them tried to escape."
"Did she escape?"
Bislan smiled grimly. "Not with my young wolves patrolling the mountain."
Several of the young warriors laughed at that.
"But they were told what the punishment would be if one of them tried something like that. They have been locked in this room for three weeks and not allowed to bathe or care for themselves." Bislan shrugged. "It would have been better if we had eaten before visiting them."
Taburova took out his flashlight and waited as the door swung open on creaking hinges. More scuttling came from within.
One of the young men stepped into the building. He carried a baton in one hand. "You will stay back if you know what's good for you." He shone the flashlight he held in his other hand around the room.
Taburova breathed through his mouth to avoid some of the stench. Waste buckets occupied corners of the room, but they obviously weren't emptied on a regular basis.
The women huddled in the back of the building. They held each other. In the darkness it was hard to make out any details.
"How many?" Taburova asked.
"Eleven," Bislan replied.
Eleven was less than Taburova was hoping for. Still, it was enough to make a difference. That was all he had to do.
He stepped forward and shone the light on his face. "My name is Mayrbek Taburova. I'm here to offer you a chance to save your doomed souls. Listen to me and I will give you a way to enter the gates of heaven."
19
Leicester
Ajza stood still and silent in the darkness a short distance from the MINI Cooper. Heat from an open thermos briefly fogged the driver's-side window. The smell of tea tainted the night air. She could hear the two men talking.
"I don't know where you're putting all that tea, mate," the man who'd introduced himself as Jason said.
"Keeps me awake and alert," the other man replied.
"Yeah, I could bloody well tell that from all the snoring you were doing a few minutes ago."
"Is it really bad?"
"Look at my ears. Am I bleeding from them."
The other man waved Jason away. "Piss off."
"I should be bleeding from the ears, I tell you." Jason kept his eyes on the shop. "Why do you think we're supposed to keep an eye on this woman?"
"We were told to protect her."
Ajza filed that away. She didn't know who would have told anyone to protect her. If she'd needed protection, her superiors at MI-6 would have told her she was in danger. So who were these two men and who had sent
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