‘Darwish’s tone, the arrangement. Plus he called her Anara. Twice.’
‘He’s under a lot of stress.’
They both knew it was something else altogether. That he wasn’t the sort of man to make a careless mistake, let alone about a member of his own family. Maybe he was being watched so closely that all he could do was mispronounce his own daughter’s name — a slip so small that whoever was in the room with him wouldn’t notice, but which he knew Dima would pick up straight away. He hoped the bleariness was nerves, nothing worse. Had he put the phone down so he could receive instructions from his captors? It sounded like a trap — unsubtle, inelegant and typical of the way certain people operated. Exactly which people they couldn’t say, yet.
‘He said he’s taking her away — from an airstrip? Where to?’
‘Maybe to his family.’
‘They’re all either dead or still here. This doesn’t smell right.’’
‘Great,’ said Kroll as they pulled back on to the road. ‘And you’re going to want to rescue him.’
Amara stirred from her deep sleep. Her eyes opened, closed and opened again, suddenly widening as she focused on Dima’s face. Lit by nothing more than the car’s interior light he did look a bit like a ghost.
‘I thought you were dead.’
‘I’m indestructible.’
She frowned, puzzled, then flinched with pain.
‘Where are we?’
‘Not far from home. I spoke to your father. He’s expecting us.’
Now she was upright he nodded at the space beside her. Kroll came to a stop so Dima could climb into the back. For several minutes they drove on in silence. He glanced at Amara, her whole life turned upside down by them.
‘I’m sorry about Gazul. After all, he was your—.’
She held up a hand, took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then shook her head.
‘It was a mistake. Don’t ever tell my father I said this: he was right about him.’
‘You helped us so much — taking us to the chalet.’
She looked down.
‘Kristen’s dead, isn’t she?’
‘Sorry. Along with my two comrades.’
‘Such a strange job you have. I bet you don’t have a wife or family.’
There was a pause before he answered that one. ‘It’s better that way,’ he said, thinking of the life he had once imagined with Camille.
‘You know, in Iran for a young widow, it’s not good. Do you think I could find work in Moscow? I heard there’s plenty of work in Moscow for young women.’
‘Not the sort your father would approve of.’
‘You’re as bad as him. Now you see why I had to get away.’
58
Outside Tabriz
They stopped about half a kilometre away from the airstrip and parked behind a storage shed.
‘You stay with Amara in the vehicle,’ Dima said to Kroll. ‘While we check this out.’
Dima and Vladimir crossed a field of aubergines to the perimeter fence.
‘What do you reckon?’ Vladimir gave Dima the binoculars.
‘Can’t see Darwish — or anyone.’
There was a single hangar, a few sheds and amast with a windsock at the top, hanging limp in the static night air. Parked in front of a makeshift terminal were a couple of Fokker F-27s belonging to a small regional airline and a very clean Kamov Ka-266 helicopter with no markings.
‘Look at that. No ID of any kind.’
‘Nice people always have numbers on their choppers.’
‘Whoever they are they knew we were coming all right,’ said Vladimir. ‘But who told them? Darwish?’
‘Never.’
‘He was trying to warn us though.’
‘Well, who then?’
Dima had a ghost of a suspicion, buried at the back of his mind, which he kept to himself. He was still burying it when they were suddenly dazzled by an enormous spotlight from inside the hangar.
‘Shit!’
They sprinted back across the field towards the Land Cruiser. They were almost on it when they realised it was surrounded.
‘Drop your weapons. On the ground!’
Dima couldn’t think of a better idea so they first dropped the guns and then themselves. The road smelled faintly of oil and animal shit. He tried to get a glimpse of the two armed figures running towards them but they had face masks on.
‘Face down.’
One of them swung his boot against Dima’s temple as he rolled over trying to see the Land Cruiser. They pulled his hands behind his back and bound his wrists with zip cuffs.
‘Face down!’
‘I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding,’ said Dima. ‘If you’d just let me explain—.’
Another boot in his ribs put paid to the rest of the sentence. A GAZ jeep zoomed towards them from the airstrip and slewed to a halt beside them. Two more men got out and grabbed Dima and Vladimir while the boot man jumped round the Land Cruiser, shoved Kroll on to the passenger seat and got behind the wheel.
‘Someone really, really doesn’t like us,’ said Vladimir.
They drove in convoy to the small terminal. Two more men who had been lounging against the chopper now came towards them: black pants and T-shirts under black jackets, PP-2000 submachine guns dangling from their hands — and a look of triumph on their faces.
Vladimir turned to Dima.
‘Do you think we should tell them they look like James Bond extras?’
‘Depressing isn’t it? So unoriginal.’
‘I’m bored with Russians being the bad guys all the time. But hey, if they are the bad guys, doesn’t that make us the good guys?’
‘Good point.’
‘Shut the fuck up, you stupid prick,’ said the shorter of the two. His cheeks were pockmarked from bad adolescent acne and his eyes were red-rimmed from too many late nights. He was the marginally less hideous looking of the two, which wasn’t saying much, with an ‘all the girls want to fuck me’ smirk.
‘Are we going for a ride in the helicopter? I can’t wait to see the hollowed-out volcano,’ said Vladimir.
The taller one, who reminded Dima of a weasel he’d seen in a cartoon film, pulled out his brand new Grach police issue pistol and smashed the grip against Vladimir’s cheek.
‘They also fire bullets through the pointy end,’ said Vladimir. ‘Want me to show you?’
‘Shut it,’ said Weasel, ‘before I smash every bone in your body.’
The two men in masks pulled Kroll from the Land Cruiser. Where the fuck was Amara? The three of them were marched into the terminal building, where they watched as the jeep men eviscerated the Land Cruiser. One took out the spare wheel, slashed the lining of the rear compartment and peered into the corners. The other one looked under the hood, then tore off the door trim and even ripped out the headlining.
‘I get it,’ said Vladimir. ‘It’s a drug bust!’
‘Unless it’s the ultra portable WMDs they’re hoping for,’ Dima replied.
‘What, the ones I swallowed?’ said Kroll.
‘Seriously, they don’t really think
The search seemed not to be producing results. Weasel waved the search party back to the jeep and took several determined steps towards Dima, finishing with his face almost touching his.
