by R G Ainslee
"Yeah, that's what I said — continue."
"The Russian plan new air defense rocket tests in January. Tests at Sary-Shagan in Kazakhstan on Lake Balkhash. High altitude rocket effective to more than 30,000 meters. Guidance system is new."
"Was Marsden involved in this?"
"Yes, may be reason they free him from prison."
Her thoughts, the same as mine: The Soviets arranged for Marsden's escape. "Have you worked on this project?"
"Yes, with rocket test telemetry, but Marsden work with guidance system design engineer when he come to Russia. Is not his idea, but he have plan for important modification." She paused.
"Keep talking. How does it work?"
"Is part of new PVO air defense system, just become operational." I knew that PVO was the initials of the Soviet air defense forces. "Is designated S-300 and use solid-fuel rocket. Design bureaus work on guidance system improvement. Is design to use track via missile guidance system, but problem to track targets below 500 meters. PVO require design bureau substitute command-guidance system until track via missile guidance system is complete."
"How was Marsden involved?"
"Marsden offer third choice. He claim undetectable. He to test when return from Ethiopia."
I was familiar with the new S-300 system, we called it the SA-10 Grumble, and it was in its early stages of deployment. The high-altitude missile posed a definite threat. Paired with an undetectable guidance system it offered a significant breakthrough. I knew, then and there, I had to get her back to the states, she was a gold mine of information, an opportunity to thwart Marsden again.
There was still a lingering doubt. Could I trust her? She still could be a plant. The message in the restroom still bothered me. How did they know it was real? However, I already told her too much, I was committed. We needed to leave before Suslov showed up.
"Do you have any suggestions on how to get you out of here?"
She was silent for a minute as we wandered along the edge of the glacier. "This Suslov, he know you?"
"Yes, we spoke at the hotel down the valley."
"He not see you again. You go place by lake."
"You mean Gorek Shep?"
"Yes, I come to you. I leave in night. Meet you there."
"Think you can get away, is the security tight?"
"Not much. Where we go — over mountains to Tibet?"
"Will they follow?"
"Yes, of course. We move fast. Do you have men?"
"No — just me, my Sherpa guide, and a porter."
"Is all? How—"
"Like you said, we'll have to move fast."
9~ The Chase
Sunday AM, 24 December: Gorek Shep
A sharp bitter wind whistled across the glacier, invading every crack in the cold dark hut at Gorek Shep. After a fitful four-hour sleep, we huddled covered by sleeping bags awaiting Valentina's arrival. Our packs sat ready by the door. We tried to keep warm by a dim glowing yak dung fire. I explained to Ang Dorjie that we needed to move fast, and he sent Pemba Gombu on ahead over the most difficult stretch with the heaviest gear. The young porter would meet us at Lobuche.
I checked my Timex once more: ten past midnight.
Ang Dorjie inquired with a doubtful tone, "You think she will come?"
"Pretty sure, but if she doesn't show up in an hour, I'm going out to look for her."
"The glacier's dangerous at night."
"Okay, but I can't help but think Suslov may have found out."
"Is he armed?"
"No doubt he is. All we'll have is a head start and our kukri knives. When she gets here, we'll just stay ahead of them. Can you follow the trail in the dark?"
"Yes, it will be slow over the ice to Lobuche. But, a large moon will light the way."
As I sat cold and uncomfortable, a jumbled vision wheeled through my mind, scenes happy and unhappy: skiing with Lisette, the dangers we faced in Kenya, our reunion in Baja, walking together into Lamu, waking up to her smile.
A shadow materialized at the door. "Hello, you here?" Valentina stepped inside.
"Yeah, we're ready? Do you need to rest?"
"No, we go. They may follow. András question me when he come from icefall. The director told him of you. I think he know. — Mintha élnél! — Quickly, we go."
"Okay, we don't have any time to spare."
I grabbed my near empty pack, stuffed the goose down sleeping bag into the top compartment, and patted the side pocket one more time. A reassuring thump told me the kukri was still there.
Down the trail, I halted and looked back. The towering mountains radiated a faint moonlight glow outlining the rock hut. Gorek Shep, graveyard of the crows. I savored a sense of accomplishment leaving the place alive.
An hour later, we stumbled along the icy path north of Lobuche. Valentina fell with a shriek. "Segítség! Lábam sérült."
"Are you all right"
"Megsérültem." She winced. "My foot injure."
"Get up, we gotta keep going. The walk will take the soreness out."
She struggled to get up and slipped again. "Bocsánat! … Sorry."
I helped her to her feet. "Can you go on?"
"Köszönöm, thank you." She gasped a deep breath. "Yes, we must."
Checked back up the trail, sensed movement, and used peripheral vision to increase my field of view in the pale moon light.
Ang Dorjie asked, "You see something?"
No one appeared. "No, just nerves … I guess."
"The huts are not far, we will rest. Pemba will have tea ready."
The next hour was slow going and exhausting. Pounded by jolting winds, the cold penetrated our clothes and chilled our sweat, making things even more miserable. My fingers and toes grew numb. All we could do was zip up our parkas and push on, inching step by treacherous step down the rocky trail waiting for the first rays of the sun to offer a pretense of warmth.
The rumbling of a fast running stream and the occasional clatter from a dislodged stone competed with the steady rasping of our breaths as the only sounds of the night. Our small caravan plodded along in spite of Valentina's sore ankle. The arrival of an almost full moon and a deep black sky full of blazing stars offered just enough light to make our journey less difficult.
The hut at Lobuche came into view. The faint glow of a yak dung fire punctuated the darkness, the porter ready with a pot of hot tea. I slipped out of my Kelty backpack harness and sank to the stone bench placed there for travelers, weary, but safe for the moment. Valentina struggled the last few hundred meters. She gave a weak smile, but I knew it was all show, not a true reflection of her condition.
* * *
The first rays of sunlight became visible over the towering snow-covered peaks as we approached the turn-off to the village of Dingboche. The sun climbed higher into the sky as the morning drug on, warming our frozen weary bodies.
Valentina managed to keep up, but it was obvious the twisted ankle was bothering her. Traveling downhill from Lobuche took a steady toll on our tired bodies. I slipped and fell twice without ill effect. The sure-footed Sherpa's had no problems.
I halted beside Ang Dorjie. "Can we make Thyangboche by nightfall?"
"Yes, no problem, once we descend below 5,000 meters, you will feel much better, and our pace will pick up. Do you want to stop there?"
Valentina appeared exhausted. I edged over and placed an arm around her shoulder. "Can you keep going? Will you need to rest tonight?"
She leaned into me and struggled to speak. "I tired … yes … rest soon. My foot."
"The nurse at Thyangboche can check the ankle. We gotta keep going."
A dull pain fired up in my head after we left Lobuche and had gradually increased. I managed to forge ahead confident things would get better as the altitude decreased.
Ang Dorjie studied her and said, "We can stop at Periche. There is a small teahouse. It is the quick route down and will save time. I will send someone up the trail to stand guard while we rest."<
br />
* * *
The owner of the teahouse served warm Sherpa tea made from yak butter, salt, and tea. Ang Dorjie sent the young son back up the valley to keep an eye out for anyone coming down the trail. I drank, laid back to rest, and was soon sound asleep.
My nap didn't last long, less than an hour. Shouts and commotion woke me from a deep slumber and dreams of home. I stumbled outside to find the boy gesturing back up the valley as he spoke to Ang Dorjie.
"A group of people are walking down the valley. It is early for trekkers, must be him."
"How close are they?"
"Not far. They are on the trail. Over there."
I pulled out my East German Carl Zeiss Jena 7x40 military binoculars and searched the path back up the valley. A party of four came into focus on the path below the far ridge. They had made a wrong turn, headed towards Dingboche. We had taken a more direct route through Periche. The diversion added at least another hour to their journey, a lucky break for us.
"Let's go now. They’re headed for Dingboche."
"No need to hurry. My cousin is leading them. I told him to take the long way down."
* * *
Gradually, the terrain changed. The valley opened, streams raced over rocky beds, and traces of vegetation began to appear. Below stretched the trail we ascended only a day before. We drank in welcome warmth from the burning sun as it flooded the valley with a colorless bright light.
Valentina's ankle was worse. She needed help walking for an hour before reaching Pangboche. We crept along at a slow pace and I became increasingly worried Suslov would catch up.
* * *
Pangboche, a small mountain village, offered an incredible view of snow-capped peaks and steep slopes leading down to the valley floor. Streaming prayer flags inscribed with spiritual texts fluttered across housetops. Small cloth banners set in motion spiritual blessings when caught by the mountain winds.
Ang Dorjie led us to a farmhouse up from the main trail. The loosely stacked stone walls of the structure, made without mortar, appeared on the verge of toppling over. The roof consisted of wooden sticks and a few tin sheets. The owner, another of Ang Dorjie's cousins, supplied a warm meal of rice, pancakes, and Sherpa tea. He sent his young nephew to the edge of the village to watch for Suslov.
When we stepped from the hut, ready to leave, Ang Dorjie looked around. "Here comes Pemba." The smiling porter led a medium sized, brown, shaggy yak. "I told him to find a ride for the lady, he was successful."
Valentina hobbled over to Pemba and hugged him. He responded with an even wider smile. "Köszönöm … Thank you, you save my life."
With a worried expression, Ang Dorjie told us, "Place the packs on his back, it will help."
I was glad to surrender my Kelty. "Will we be able to stay ahead of them with her on the animal?"
"We will make it to Thyangboche. After that I don't know."
* * *
We arrived at Thyangboche Monastery, dog-tired and sore. My headache better, but a dull throbbing continued to sap strength and will.
I asked Ang Dorjie, "How far back do you think they are?"
"They move faster than we can, less than one hour."
"They'll catch up for sure. Will we be safe here?"
"Yes. The Lamas will offer protection. It is forbidden to kill any living thing here at the monastery. I will pay the lama to bring us good fortune." Ang Dorjie had the typical Sherpa acceptance of fate. A Buddhist, he believed in reincarnation and a second chance at life. If we failed to succeed today, there was always another chance in a new life. I didn't buy that, I wanted to survive today.
"Valentina pleaded, "I not halt. We go. I die before I return." She was desperate, but her condition didn't match her will.
I grasped her arm and placed it over my shoulder. "The nurse's hut is over here. Let her examine your ankle. We still have time to decide."
Ang Dorjie said, "I will go back up the trail to the high point we passed and look out for them."
"Fine, we’ll be with the nurse."
We stumbled over to the closed door. I knocked and entered with my arm around Valentina's waist. Jane sat facing the door, a large man in front of her, his back to the door. Jane glared at us with a mixture of curiosity and surprise.
"You are back. That was a quick trip."
The man glanced back — Toma Kuban — and offered a slight nod of recognition, but his eyes turned cold as they moved to Valentina. She gasped, and I could feel her body shiver.
"She has a sore ankle. Can you take a look at it?"
"One moment." Her eyes shifted between Valentina and me, it was obvious she was curious. I spurned her advances only a few days ago, and here I was, with another woman. A not unfamiliar situation.
She told him about the pills in hesitant broken German, "Pillen geben, wenn zurückkommst."
Kuban grunted something in acknowledgement and turned to leave. He eyed Valentina and then me, hesitated, and left. It was clear he recognized Valentina.
I asked her, "Do you know him? He was with Suslov."
"He state security officer, Ukrán, sent to observe us, but sick in Kathmandu."
"Ukrainian?"
"Yes. They not trust our people to spy on us."
Jane listened to our conversation with interest and finally broke her silence, "What is going on here?"
"Jane, this is Valentina Karolyi."
"I know. She is with the Hungarian scientific expedition. We met a few weeks ago. Are you two together?"
Valentina broke in, "Please help me. I go from them. Please. My foot injure. Please help me walk. I must go." Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Jane pursed her lips, gave me a serious look, and told Valentina, "Sit, let me examine the foot."
Fifteen minutes later, Valentina reinserted her taped ankle back into the heavy mountaineering boot. Her first step betrayed her pain. A brave walk around the room was just that, brave, her discomfort obvious.
Jane shook her head. "You are in no condition to walk. You must rest for at least a day. To continue will only make the injury worse."
I concurred, "She's right."
"No. No. I go." She broke down in tears, her face in her hands.
"Is she in danger?"
"Yeah, 'fraid so."
"And how about you? What have you done?"
"Got big troubles with the people up at Base Camp. She's trying to get away from them. We're being followed by some tough customers, appears our only choice is to keep going." I glanced down at Valentina. "It's probably a matter of life or death for her."
"She will not get far, I can promise you that. Where are you going?"
"To Syangboche, we have a yak for her to ride on. She made it from Pangboche all right."
"It is foolish to walk." She spoke to Valentina. "I will give you a strong pain medicine. It will keep you going, but you will risk injury if you try to walk on that ankle."
"Thank you. I understand. Please give medecin."
As we were about to leave, Jane placed her hand on my shoulder and held me back. "I don't know what is going on, but good luck. You will need it." She gave me a kiss on the cheek and bode me good-bye.
Ang Dorjie was waiting for us outside. I glanced around but could see no signs of Toma Kuban.
"They are coming up the trail now. We don't have much time. The other man is here also. Did you see him?"
"Yeah, and he saw us."
He looked at Valentina and asked, "Are you all right?"
She took a deep breath, then said with determination, "Yes — mintha élnél! — Hurry, we go."
Ang Dorjie took a quick look around. "We must leave now. Pemba will stay and tell Pasang to delay long as possible. The big man will tell them we are gone. It is the best we can do."
"Okay, let's do it." I helped Valentina up on the yak and we set off down the trail. I pulled the kukri knife out of the pack and inserted it into my belt. Ang Dorjie had already done the same.
10~ The Bridge
<
br /> Sunday, 24 December: On the Trail below Thyangboche
We followed the now familiar trail through the moss pine and rhododendron forest from the saddle at the top of the ridge. We made good time, the sure-footed yak carried Valentina down the rocky path and past the prayer walls with ease. The trees made it impossible to see back up the trail, we pressed on, moving as fast as our tired legs, and the yak, would allow.
The track soon steepened and the bones below my knees began to ache, adding to my misery that included a splitting headache. I was dead tired, ready to drop, but desperation and a primitive survival instinct drove me on. Sometimes your only choice is to suck it up and do what you gotta do.
The path opened up, traversed an old glacier moraine. I halted at the edge, but no sign of our pursuers. We zigzagged down a steep tree lined trail to the rushing glacial waters of the Dudh Kosi. Phunki Tenga, a collection of huts, lay ahead at the foot of the rocky gorge.
Past the last huts, a suspension bridge spanned the roaring river, over 100 feet long and about three feet wide, just enough for a fully loaded yak to pass. Prayer flags fluttered from the bridge and water driven prayer wheels spun on the banks of the stream. The bridge was our last major obstacle before the climb up to Teshinga village and on to the Everest View Hotel. Ang Dorjie was confident we would be safe at the hotel and could make radio contact with Kathmandu. I wasn't so sure.
Twilight poured through the valley. The setting sun brushed the western ridge as shadows swept down the slope. A hush descended; the stream the only audible sound.
"How are you doing?" I asked Valentina.
"Good. Thank you much. To be free and go America. Today, the best day of my life. How I repay you?"
Before I could answer, Ang Dorjie interjected, "Lead the yak across the bridge, go slowly, and do not frighten him. He is still young. I will go back up the trail to the clearing and see if we are followed."
I watched him disappear up the path and clutched the rope threaded through the animal's nose. "Come on little doggie." I gently tugged on the line. The yak took a step forward, passed stone pillars holding the cables, and we proceeded out on the narrow wooden planks over the fast-flowing waters.