She gave Ellis a long, hard look, and for a moment he thought she was going to get mad, but it was only that she was taking his question very seriously. Finally she said: "Sad." She turned her gaze back to the village.
Jean-Pierre and Anatoly were heading for Jane's house, where Chantal lay concealed on the roof.
Jane said: "I think they're looking for me."
Her expression was drawn and scared as she stared at the two men down below. Ellis did not think the Russians had come all this way with so many men and machines just for Jane, but he did not say so.
Jean-Pierre and Anatoly walked through the courtyard of the shopkeeper's house and entered the building.
"Don't cry, little girl," whispered Jane.
It was a miracle the baby was still asleep, Ellis thought. Perhaps she was not: perhaps she was awake and crying, but her cries were drowned by the noise of the helicopters. Perhaps the soldier had not heard her because there had been a chopper directly overhead at that moment. Perhaps the more sensitive ears of her father would hear sounds which had failed to catch the attention of a disinterested stranger. Perhaps—
The two men came out of the house.
They stood in the courtyard for a moment, talking intently. Jean-Pierre limped across to the wooden staircase which led to the roof. He mounted the first step with evident difficulty, then got down again. There was another short exchange of words, and the Russian mounted the stairs.
Ellis held his breath.
Anatoly reached the top of the stair and stepped onto the roof. Like the soldier before him, he glanced at the scattered bedding, looked around at other houses, and then returned his attention to this one. Like the soldier, he poked at Fara's mattress with the toe of his boot. Then he knelt down beside Chantal.
Gently, he drew back the sheet.
Jane gave an inarticulate cry as Chantal's pink face came into view.
If they're after Jane, Ellis thought, they will take Chantal, for they know she would give herself up in order to be reunited with her baby.
Anatoly stared at the tiny bundle for several seconds.
"Oh, God, I can't stand this, I can't stand it," Jane groaned.
Ellis held her tight and said: "Wait, wait and see."
He strained his eyes to make out the expression on the baby's face, but the distance was too great.
The Russian appeared to be thinking.
Suddenly he seemed to make up his mind.
He dropped the sheet, tucked it in around the baby, stood up and walked away.
Jane burst into tears.
From the roof Anatoly spoke to Jean-Pierre, shaking his head in negation. Then he descended into the courtyard.
"Now why did he do that?" Ellis mused, thinking aloud. The shake of the head meant that Anatoly was lying to Jean-Pierre, saying "There is nobody on the roof." The implication was that Jean-Pierre would have wanted to take the baby, but Anatoly did not. That meant that Jean-Pierre wanted to find Jane, but the Russian was not interested in her.
So what was he interested in?
It was obvious. He was after Ellis.
"I believe I may have fucked up," Ellis said, mainly to himself. Jean-Pierre wanted Jane and Chantal, but Anatoly was looking for him. Anatoly wanted revenge for yesterday's humiliation; he wanted to prevent Ellis returning to the West with the treaty the rebel commanders had signed; and he wanted to put Ellis on trial to prove to the world that the CIA was behind the Afghan rebellion. I should have thought of all this yesterday, Ellis reflected bitterly, but I was flushed with success and thinking only about Jane. Besides, Anatoly could not know I was here—I might have been in Darg, or Astana, or hiding out in the hills with Masud—so it must have been a long shot. But it had almost worked. Anatoly had good instincts. He was a formidable opponent—and the battle was not yet over.
Jane was weeping. Ellis stroked her hair and made soothing noises while he watched Jean-Pierre and Anatoly walk back toward the helicopters, which were still standing in the fields with their rotors churning the air.
The Hind that had landed on the hilltop near the caves took off again and rose over Ellis and Jane's heads. Ellis wondered whether the seven wounded guerrillas in the cave clinic had been interrogated or taken prisoner or both.
It ended very quickly. The soldiers came out of the mosque at the double and piled into the Hip as fast as they had emerged. Jean-Pierre and Anatoly boarded one of the Hinds. The ugly aircraft took off, one by one, lifting giddily until they were higher than the hill and then speeding southward in a straight line.
Ellis, knowing what was in Jane's mind, said: "Just wait a few more seconds, until all the choppers have gone—don't spoil everything now."
She nodded tearful acquiescence.
The villagers began to trickle out of the mosque, looking scared. The last helicopter took off and headed south. Jane scrambled out of the sleeping bag, pulled on her trousers, shrugged into her shirt and ran off down the hillside, slipping and stumbling and buttoning her shirt as she went. Ellis watched her go, feeling that somehow she had spurned him, knowing that the feeling was irrational, unable nevertheless to shake it. He would not follow her yet, he decided. He would leave her alone for her reunion with Chantal.
She went out of sight beyond the mullah's house. Ellis looked down at the village. It was beginning to return to normal. He could hear voices raised in excited cries. The children were running around playing helicopters or pointing imaginary guns and herding chickens into courtyards to be interrogated. Most of the adults were walking slowly back to their homes, looking cowed.
Ellis remembered the seven wounded guerrillas and the boy with one hand in the cave clinic. He decided he would check on them. He pulled on his clothes, rolled up his sleeping bag and set off up the mountain path.
He recalled Allen Winderman, in his gray suit and his striped tie, picking over a salad in a Washington restaurant and saying: "What are the chances that the Russians would catch our man?" Slender, Ellis had said. If they can't catch Masud, why would they be able to catch an undercover agent sent to meet Masud? Now he knew the answer to that question: Because of Jean-Pierre. "Goddam Jean-Pierre," said Ellis aloud.
He reached the clearing. There was no noise coming from the cave clinic. He hoped the Russians had not taken the child, Mousa, as well as the wounded guerrillas— Mohammed would be inconsolable.
He went into the cave. The sun was up now and he could see quite clearly. They were all there, lying still and quiet. "Are you all right?" Ellis asked in Dari.
There was no reply. None of them moved.
"Oh, God," Ellis whispered.
He knelt beside the nearest guerrilla and touched the bearded face. The man was lying in a pool of blood. He had been shot in the head at point-blank range.
Moving quickly, Ellis checked each of them.
They were all dead.
And so was the child.
CHAPTER 15
JANE DASHED through the village in a blind panic, pushing people aside, cannoning into walls, stumbling and falling and getting up again, sobbing and panting and moaning all at the same time. "She must be all right," she told herself, repeating it like a litany; but just the same her brain kept asking Why didn't Chantal wake up? and What did Anatoly do? and Is my baby hurt?
She stumbled into the courtyard of the shopkeeper's house and climbed the steps two at a time to the roof. She fell on her knees and pulled the sheet off the little mattress. Chantal's eyes were closed. Jane thought: Is she breathing? Is she breathing? Then the baby's eyes opened, she looked at her mother, and—for the first time ever—
