Marcus returned the way he had come, approaching the ruined jeep. The front was smashed in on the passenger side where it was embedded into the first tree Marcus had sprinted past.
The driver was unconscious, pinned behind the steering wheel. Marcus crept around and, pointing his gun at the occupant, tried to open the door. He should probably leave the bastard here. The jeep was trashed, useless to Marcus.
But he had to see who had just tried to kill him, if not to make sure they weren’t armed and going to try to do him in again. He pulled harder on the door, with little progress. Looking around he found a thick enough branch and shoved it into the small opening in the door. A few heaves and it popped free, hanging bent on one hinge.
Marcus stuck his head into the jeep. The driver had long, black hair and, looking down at her body, it was definitely a woman. He carefully turned her head. The woman stirred into consciousness briefly, then went out again.
Marcus stumbled back, letting her head drop crookedly back onto her shoulder.
“Kamila?” He said to no one. He glanced into the back seat. To be sure he climbed halfway in and looked in the back, and then the front passenger seat. Empty.
He had been after Kamila for so long, his mind set on catching her, because that meant he would find Alyssa. For a moment, he had forgotten that Kamila didn’t have Alyssa anymore.
“Kamila!” Marcus shouted, shaking her. Her head rolled slightly but there was no response. It was definitely Kamila. Her face, and the coat he had bought her for Christmas. She was even wearing one of Anna’s shirts. “Kamila!” He shouted again. He leaned his weapon against one of the trees then returned. With his arms under her shoulders, he was able to lift her out. He carried her away from the jeep and laid her on the grass just off the highway, then returned for the gun he had taken from the rebel.
Marcus didn’t have time to wait for Kamila to recover. By now the Russians were learning that one of their missions had failed in the worst way. There was a small cut bleeding on her forehead. Otherwise, she seemed intact. He nudged her with his foot. “Get up.”
She opened her eyes more fully and, clearly recognizing Marcus, stood quickly. He pointed the rifle at her chest. Kamila looked past Marcus at the destroyed jeep. She wiped her forehead and looked down at her hand. For a moment she seemed surprised at the sight of her own blood. When she looked up at Marcus her expression had changed to one of scorn.
“What is that for?” she said, nodding at the rifle in Marcus’s hands. “You planning on shooting me?”
“I have plenty of reason to.”
Kamila glared at him. “Like what?”
“Kidnapping my daughter, for one. Then the fact that you just tried to kill me.”
Kamila paused as if considering what he had said. She closed her eyes and swayed and Marcus thought she might faint. Was she pretending? Kamila ran her hand across the top of her head and removed the band holding her hair back. She wasn’t wearing a headscarf but pulled one out of her front pocket and dabbed the cut on her forehead.
“The second part, yes, I did try to kill you.”
“And the first part?”
“I didn’t kidnap Alyssa. She was happy to come along. In fact, I think she liked living with me better than with you these last few weeks.”
“That’s a lie!” Marcus shouted. Alyssa would never agree to leave the country with Kamila. She couldn’t stand being around her aunt for more than a few hours. The fact that Marcus had ignored Alyssa’s concerns about Kamila was one of the reasons they were both standing here now. He wasn’t just angry at Kamila, but himself too.
Kamila looked away as if indifferent to Marcus’s outburst. “Tell me, who has taken care of Alyssa since Anna died? Who picked her up from school? Who watched her while you went on your little dates?”
“Being her nanny does not make you her mother.”
“She belongs to me as much as she belongs to anyone else. And it’s because of you that I had to keep running, and that is why she is gone now.”
Did Kamila really believe she was as important to Alyssa as Anna had been? She would never be, could never be, Alyssa’s mother. It was clear she hadn’t learned anything since losing Alyssa at her father’s encampment. If given the chance, she would take her again.
But it wasn’t that simple. Like Hassan and Salman before him, Kamila knew Chechnya and the surrounding area. She might be able to help. In fact, there wasn’t anyone else left to help Marcus but Kamila.
He took a deep breath. “The only thing that matters right now is that you help me get to Alyssa so I can take her home.”
Kamila chortled. “Home?”
“Yes, her home is in America.”
“And what about me?” Kamila asked. “Who is going to take care of me?”
That wasn’t important right now. He wished she would see that, would have one clear, cogent thought that didn’t involve her wants and needs.
“We can talk about that later.” Marcus said, knowing he would regret the promise. “But I need your help, for Alyssa’s sake. Your father told me where he sent her.”
She lowered her hands and looked sideways at Marcus. “The mission in Dagestan?”
“He told you?”
“No,” she replied with irritation. “Of course not. One of his men told me.”
“So you know how to get there?” Even as he said the words, Marcus remembered he had given the paper with the location of the orphanage to Stormy. He wouldn’t be able to find Alyssa without Kamila’s help. And what about Stormy? She had the directions to the orphanage at least. He could only hope that somehow she would protect herself from Hassan. Hassan had a weapon, but Stormy had the brains of the two. There was still hope.
“How do you know he was telling the truth?”
Kamila scoffed. “I know when someone is telling the truth or not.”
Marcus wanted to say, how could someone who lies as much as you ever be able to tell the difference, but he didn’t. He needed Kamila to stay as close to rational as she possibly could, at least until he found Alyssa.
“So you can help me find her?” Marcus said.
“You want me to help you? So you can steal Alyssa back.”
“Okay. We will find her together. Then we will talk about you staying with us,” Marcus said.
Would he let Kamila stay with them in America? Never again. He would do whatever he could to remain as far away from her as possible once Alyssa was safe. Kamila couldn’t return to America without a visa.
She looked at him suspiciously. “You’re lying.”
“You have to trust me, just like I have to trust you to do the right thing and lead me to Alyssa.”
“I still think you’re lying,” she said, her voice softer now.
“Fine. But that doesn’t mean you can’t help.”
“Then give me your gun,” Kamila said, stepping closer and putting her hand on his arm.
Marcus stepped back. “Not yet. Maybe later if I feel like I can trust you.”
They were running out of time. It was a miracle the Russians hadn’t arrived yet. “Was that jeep the only vehicle left here?”
Kamila looked around. “There’s another car. I found it while I was waiting for—”
“For what?”
“Nothing.”
Marcus followed her to the buildings across the street from the gas station. The flames from the helicopter had flagged but black smoke continued to rise into the air, and a cloud was settling just above the rooftops. Kamila opened the door to a garage attached to the gas station. Inside was a late model Mercedes.
“They always used to hide their cars in here,” she said. “It probably belonged to one of the dead guys’”
“We need to find the keys,” Marcus said.
“No we don’t,” Kamila replied. She searched the garage and found a box of tools. She opened the car door, which was unlocked, and poked her head in under the driver’s seat
. Marcus could hear her talking to herself, but could not understand what she was saying. In a few minutes she had the car hotwired.
“Good thing it’s an old one,” Kamila said. “The new ones are impossible. Are you driving?”
Marcus had already considered that. “You drive.” It was a risk, considering she was capable of anything, including driving them both off a cliff if she had the whim. There was also the issue of her head injury, if she had one. Still he felt safer with a gun in his hand at her at the wheel.
“Fine,” she said with a smirk. “Make the woman do all the work.”
Marcus slipped into the passenger seat. “Let’s get out of here before we get shot.”
Moments later they were on the highway, continuing down the mountain. Marcus looked back at the burning mass on the highway and the gas station. What he and Stormy had thought was a quick stop for gas had become another chapter in this nightmare chase to save Alyssa. Marcus had finally found Kamila, but not under the circumstances he had hoped for. And now Stormy’s life was in the hands of a fanatic.
Chapter 56
Stormy looked in the rear view mirror and saw that they had gained considerable distance from the mountains. As the sun rose, birch and oaks were replaced by sheep pastures and an occasional vineyard. They passed clusters of homes along the way, and infrequently there were enough homes to make a small town. Down in the valley below her now she could see a small white mosque with an oversized minaret and a blue, gold tipped roof. The change in scenery, some sign of civilization, gave her the courage to speak. She had been silent until now.
“Where are we going?”
“Where I tell you,” Hassan said.
Whether he was taking her to a place of his own or to others like him, she knew it was highly likely that she’d be killed, because she wasn’t going to give in to Hassan, or anyone else, without a fight. And Marcus was miles away now, somewhere back in the mountains. Had the Russians captured him? The rebels? How was he going to find Alyssa?
If he couldn’t, it was up to Stormy.
Everything was wrong with the world. It didn’t make any sense to try to do the right thing if you were the only one playing by the rules. Kill or be killed, that was the law now. That’s what you had to do to protect those you cared about. Back home, what she was thinking was indefensible.
This wasn’t home, and the man in the car with her was going to kill her. Unless she acted first.
But for now, she would play the part of the submissive victim.
“You are hurt,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Shouldn’t we get to a hospital…what if it gets infected?” she asked, knowing he probably wouldn’t fall for the ruse.
“No hospitals. They would tell the Russians.”
“Oh.”
“Stop at the next town,” he said. “We need gas. And food.”
She did and when they parked in front of the gas pump, Hassan said, “You go inside. I will stay here and get the gas. You pay.”
“What makes you think I have any money?”
He handed her a few bills. Probably the same ones he’d taken from her back at the rebel camp. “Remember, if you ask anyone for help, they will become suspicious. These are my people. I will find out, and I will kill you. I can easily replace you as my driver.”
She went into the store and paid for the gas with a handful of bills Hassan had given her. As she walked around looking for something to eat, she considered her options. Going back for Marcus wasn’t one of them. They had traveled too far and he must be gone by now. She knew that Marcus would somehow figure a way out. He was truly on his own—and so was she. No Marcus or Dmitry or any other man to help her.
She slipped her phone out of her pocket. Dead. And no charger. They had left everything behind when Arslan dropped them off at Kamila’s father’s compound.
You’ve been alone most of your adult life and you’ve done quite fine. She knew they were in Dagestan now. She had seen that from the signs. She also knew that Russian was the official language and that Dagestan was a republic of Russia. She knew the name of the town where the orphanage was, but had no idea how to get there. And, she needed to ditch Hassan.
Stormy put the food and drinks on the counter. Then, she placed the slip of paper with the name of the village in front of the cashier. “How do I get there?” she asked, praying that Hassan didn’t walk in. The cashier looked at the paper briefly, then out the window at Hassan. He counted the money and handed her the change. Without looking at her, he said, “It’s about four hours from here.”
“I stay on this highway?”
His arms shielded from Hassan by a display of cigarette lighters, he wrote lines on the piece of paper with numbers indicating the highways. “About an hour from here you take the other highway east.” He pointed.
Her eyes caught on Hassan, staring at her through the window. He’d been watching her. He knew she’d ask for help, that’s why he’d warned her about talking to anyone. Hassan had claimed these were his people, but at least this one person had been willing to help. But now that he’d seen Stormy talking to the cashier, he’d be furious. She didn’t know where he was taking her, or how close they were, but she could sense she was running out of time. For now, Hassan had the gun, and the car. She’d have to change that, and soon.
Chapter 57
Marcus’s eyes burned from exhaustion. Once or twice he nodded off, his head jerking quickly back as he awoke and realized where he was, and with whom he was traveling, that it was Kamila, not Stormy driving the car. According to Kamila, they were headed to the mission where Alyssa was. He had hoped they might catch up to Hassan and Stormy, too. But they could be anywhere, and it wasn’t likely they had the same destination. Marcus hoped that all Hassan wanted was a driver, that he’d let Stormy go as soon as he got where he was going. That was wishful thinking, though—Hassan didn’t seem the type to let an attractive woman go. Marcus tapped on the rifle laying across his lap. Next time he and Hassan met, Marcus wasn’t going to be the one left by the side of the road.
Kamila, either on purpose or out of caution, was driving just below the speed limit.
Marcus glanced at the fuel gauge. “We need to get gas, but we need to make it quick. We still might be able to catch them.”
“Catch who?”
“Hassan, the man who worked for your father. The one who drove off with Stormy. Right before you tried to run me over.”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“You almost killed me, how else should I say it?”
She put her hand on his arm. “Marcus, I know you don’t want to hear this. But your friend is gone. People like that, the men that work for my father, they will do terrible things to her, and then they will kill her. It would be best if you just forget about her.”
He pulled his arm away. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
“Fine. But it’s just going to be worse if you keep your hopes up.”
Marcus had forgotten how negative Kamila could be, always seeing the worst in everyone and every situation. She might be right about Hassan’s motives, but that didn’t mean Marcus should give up on Stormy. “Let’s just get gas and get back on the road.”
Minutes later they were in a small town with a convenience store. Going inside meant leaving the gun in the car. “You pay, I’ll pump,” he said.
He pulled out his wallet and handed her the money.
“What about something to eat?” she asked.
“I’m not that hungry.”
“I haven’t had food in days. And you look like you could use something to eat—”
“Fine,” he said, handing her a few more bills.
She smiled and entered the store.
***
Kamila paid the cashier for the gas then walked around the convenience store looking for something for Marcus to eat. She wasn’t really hungry, but she was tired. But now wasn’t the time f
or sleep. Soon they were going to be at the orphanage and then what? Marcus was going to turn all of his attention to his precious Alyssa. Alyssa would say horrible things about Kamila, about what she had put her through in Moscow and Grozny.
If only she had more time. Time to convince Marcus what he was missing, that she could be good for him. That he needed her.
At the front of the store, there was some cooked food warming under bright orange heat lamps. She paid for two meat pies full of lamb and vegetables and two large containers of hot tea. She looked outside and Marcus was putting the nozzle back into the pump. He climbed into the back seat of the car.
Kamila asked and was told where she could use the restroom.
It was time to take matters into her own hands, again. By tomorrow, Marcus would be convinced that the only option was to return home with Kamila, with or without Alyssa.
***
When Kamila got back in the car, Marcus was in the back seat.
“What are you doing back there?” she asked.
“Just want to prop my leg up,” he said. Marcus had told her how he’d been shot by the Russians, had even killed one of them himself. She’d never thought of Marcus as the type to shoot another man, even to protect someone he cared about. If she were lucky, Marcus might have the chance to kill again, but next time he might do so to protect Kamila’s honor, not that of some interfering American woman.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to get you something for pain—”
“I’m fine. I’ll take some food, though.”
She handed him the tea and the lamb pastry she’d bought.
“I hope you like it,” she said.
“I’ll eat anything right now,” Marcus said as he took a bite. A few moments later he asked, “Are you going to eat?”
She unwrapped her food and took a nibble. Why did he want to see her eat?
Dark Sky Falling Page 24