do.'
'People believe that right up until they are trapped or dead,' Ivan said.
'We're going to cut off the snake's head. Keep that in mind.'
'You are a brave — or foolish — young woman.'
'Maybe it takes both.'
With a nod Ivan sighed. 'Then we will be careful and be hopeful. I will pray that God watches over you.'
'I thought you made it a policy not to care about people you brought in.'
'I do. But you have gotten on my good side. It was unexpected and is now most distressing.'
Ajza smiled. 'You have children.'
'I do. My weakness.' Ivan leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder, then commanded him to stop.
After the jeep came to a halt in the middle of the road, Ajza clambered out and stood at the roadside. She'd changed clothing, now wearing garments more suitable to a female Muslim. The robes were black and worn, showing hard times. The heavy cloth pulled at Ajza, promising problems if she had to move quickly, but they blocked the wind.
Ivan looked at her with sorrowful eyes. 'You have until we turn you over to Achmed to change your mind.'
'I won't,' she said firmly.
Ivan nodded. 'Very well.' He took a set of heavy-duty handcuffs from his coat. 'Turn around, please.'
Controlling her fear, Ajza turned and presented her wrists behind her back. Ivan clamped the cuffs around her wrists gently, but she was still handcuffed and potentially helpless.
* * *
The men remained invisible until they stepped from the shadows draping the mountainous foothills. Black robes covered them from head to toe. They all carried firearms, a mixture of Russian and Chinese weapons, AK-47 assault rifles and bolt-action rifles.
One of the men stepped forward and held up a hand.
Ivan leaned toward Ajza. 'You are ready for this?'
'No,' Ajza said. The cuffs on her wrists made her arms feel heavy. 'But I'm going to do it.'
'Achmed is a dangerous man. Never forget that.'
'I won't.'
'If he kills you, I will avenge you.'
Ajza looked at Ivan. 'That's supposed to make me feel better?'
Ivan shrugged. 'It is the best I have to offer.'
'Thank you,' Ajza said.
'You are welcome. I do not make promises like that lightly.' Ivan's eyes shone cold and hard in the reflected headlights. 'Do not meet his eyes.'
After Ivan's whispered command, his hand rested against the back of Ajza's head and pushed it forward. Resistance came naturally to her and she fought to squelch it. She stared at the ground a few feet ahead of her, so she saw the man's combat boots before she saw him.
'You only have one?' the harsh voice asked.
'This is the only one that survived,' Ivan replied. 'As you know, the Russian soldiers have pushed hard into the mountains of late. We were forced to move very fast.'
Achmed grunted and spat a foul curse about the ancestral heritage of the Russians. A rough hand cupped Azja's chin and lifted her face. She kept her eyes downcast and let her peripheral vision survey the outlaw. She refused to recognize him as either Chechen or rebel because she knew he was only an opportunist. Nationalism didn't matter to him. The files she'd studied bore that out.
'She is old,' Achmed declared.
For a moment Ajza couldn't believe the man had said that. Achmed was easily twice her age, probably more. Then she realized that most of the Black Widows were in their teens and early twenties. She was old by those standards.
'Not too old to carry a bomb against our enemies,' Ajza told him.
Achmed frowned and glanced at Ivan doubtfully. 'You allow her to speak?'
'This one is prideful,' Ivan said. His voice held no sign that he'd been caught as much off guard as the slaver. 'She only wants to bring death to our enemies.'
'What of her husband?' Achmed stared at Ajza.
'Dead fighting the Russians,' Ajza said.
'When?'
'Weeks ago.'
'Why are you not already dead if you loved him so much?'
'Because I could not kill enough of them by myself. I need help for that.'
'Yet you come to me in chains.'
'I do not believe you are the man that can help me take my vengeance.'
'You do not know me.'
'Then prove to me you can help me.'
Achmed cocked his head and walked to Ajza's side so he could look at her in profile. 'Do you have children?'
'We were not so blessed.'
'What did you do so wrong in God's eyes that you were not given children?'
'My husband wanted our children to be born free, not under Russian oppression. We chose to wait until that happened.'
'And he believed that would happen in his lifetime? A most ambitious man.'
Ajza said nothing. She pulled back when Achmed ran his hand down her cheek.
'Have you had her?' Achmed asked Ivan.
'I would not,' Ivan replied.
'Why?'
'After the death of her husband, the Russian soldiers had her.' Ivan shrugged. 'I would not wallow in their filth.'
'She told you this?'
'I saw it. Before I killed them.'
Achmed looked at Ajza again. 'That is too bad. For an older woman, she looks good. But I prefer them young.'
Disgust roiled inside Ajza as she thought of the young women — many of them not more than girls — who must have been violated at Achmed's hands. All of those women were trapped between two enemies, and they had mercy from neither.
'If you cannot use her, then perhaps it would be best if we killed her here.' Ivan drew his sidearm and pressed the muzzle to Ajza's temple.
Ajza felt the cold metal against her flesh. She was certain that Ivan was only upping the stakes, that he had no intention of pulling the trigger, but the presence of Achmed's men made every move dangerous.
And she hadn't kept silent as she was supposed to. Maybe Ivan was acting in his own self-interest, to make certain his cover story remained intact. She stood silent and still.
'No,' Achmed said. 'There is fire in her. If she truly wants vengeance for her husband, Taburova can harness that fire. Many of these women don't have that. A woman's anger, if properly focused, is a dangerous thing.'
Ajza let out a small breath but didn't feel any safer.
Ivan put his pistol away. 'Then I'll take my payment.'
Achmed gestured to one of the men. Ivan caught the pouch the man tossed to him.
'Bring me more women,' Achmed told Ivan. 'I can sell them if you can bring them to me.'
'I will,' Ivan promised.
Achmed grabbed Ajza's arm and shoved her forward. Surprised by the man's rough treatment, she stumbled on the uneven ground and almost fell. Behind her, she heard Ivan and his men clamber back aboard the jeeps. The engines turned over, the transmissions engaged, and the yellow headlights pulled away.
