Half a mile further on was Vano’s 4 x 4, parked on a spit of pebble and sand above the river, which was shallow enough here to be forded, and as he drove Irodi explained in broken Russian that on hearing the helicopter he had come down to see if he might help, and at first had meant to pick off a Russian or two from the woods; but when he heard the American crashing about in the trees and saw the border guards heading toward him he had changed his plan. Probably the Russians would not follow; the only ones who came into Georgia were Dagestanis, and these were white Russians, military, and keen to keep their operation contained. To see such people here was rare.
“Ask him about Natela,” said Hammer. “There were shots.”
Natela was OK. They had heard gunfire and it scared her. She had gone outside to see where it had come from; Irodi had gone to follow her and found her arguing with the guard Vekua had stationed there. He wanted her to go back in the house, and when she refused and carried on walking he had fired his rifle in the air and made it clear she was going nowhere. After that no one was to leave. She was fine. Angry but fine.
“So who’s there now?”
Vano was there.
“How did you get away?”
The guard was a city boy. He didn’t have a clue.
In the stiff front seat, which even over these rough tracks felt unimaginably comfortable, Hammer fought sleep. His body had had enough, and his mind was so full of colliding images that thought was hard; but he forced himself, and continued to quiz Irodi. Communicating through the exhausted Webster as best he could, Hammer explained what had happened on the mountainside. Yes, Vekua could make it, Irodi said, without a flashlight, perhaps. It was not icy yet and there had been a little moon. But up there you must be a goat; one slip was the end.
Hammer told Irodi to hurry. She was in Diklo now, he was sure.
He had no plan. If they found Natela safe he would take her away and somehow arrange for a helicopter to take them down from the mountains. Then throw himself on the protection of the embassy, perhaps, or have Iosava find them a safe passage out. That was the extent of his thinking. If she wasn’t safe, he didn’t know what he would do.
How quiet Diklo was under its coat of snow, and how Hammer longed to fall into that tiny warm bed with Natela and sleep until spring; but the moment he stepped down from the car the cold air brought him to himself and forced him awake. After a brief, whispered conversation the three of them agreed that Hammer and Webster would stay put while Irodi went the back way to the house and found out what was going on inside. If Vekua wasn’t there, they would take Natela and go. If she was, they would talk again.
Irodi left, moving without effort or sound into the blackness of the houses.
“How much are you paying him?” said Webster.
“Nothing like enough.”
“You should hire him.”
Webster still had the stick Hammer had found for him in the woods and by leaning on it now rested his injured leg.
“He won’t be long,” said Hammer.
“I’m fine.”
It should have taken him three minutes at the most, four if he was going a long way round. After five, Hammer began to be concerned.
“I’m not sure this is good.”
As he said it a voice broke the quiet, cutting clear through the night.
“Mr. Hammer! You can come now. All your friends are here.”
Hammer considered his options and found them wanting.
“That her?” said Webster.
“That’s her. Any ideas?”
“Improvise.”
Hammer gave him his arm for support and together they walked to Vano’s house.
• • •
The guard was still there, shifting his weight from foot to foot to keep out the cold. As Hammer and Webster came within sight he pointed his gun at them and said something in Georgian.
“He wants weapons,” said Webster.
“I imagine he does,” said Hammer, and fished one of the two guns from his pockets. Webster handed his own over and the guard patted him down before moving on to Hammer, stopping when he reached his waist.
“My memory’s going,” said Hammer, as the guard pulled out the second pistol. Finally happy, he followed them inside the house.
At the head of the table was Vano, stiff with dignified rage, and by him Eka and Natela. Irodi was sitting at the foot, and gave Hammer a look of apology as he came in. Vekua was standing beyond the table by the sink, pistol in hand. Next to her were the two rifles.
“Sit, please,” said Vekua.
Hammer shook his head. “You want to tell me why you’re holding these good people? What did they do?”
Vekua smiled. It was the same simple smile that she had used to charm him when they had first met, but behind it now there were signs of real agitation—the muscles were tight in her jaw, and her lips pressed firmly together. She spoke deliberately, but without conviction.
“I am not holding anyone. I have asked everyone to remain here and I have taken their guns, which I am entitled to do. As an officer of the law. Please, sit.”
Hammer looked at Webster and they sat down opposite each other.
“You OK?” said Hammer, taking off his gloves and putting his hand on Natela’s thigh. She nodded, but said nothing.
“I’m sorry about this,” said Hammer, looking from Vano to Eka. Vano responded with a taut nod.
“So you have your friend,” said Vekua. “He exists.”
“You knew he existed.”
“What happened after you tried to kill me?”
“Excuse me?”
“You tried to drag me off the mountain. Then you left me to die.”
“You seem OK.”
Vekua steadily held his eye, the smile gone.
“He was where I thought?”
“More or less.”
“What did you do with the guards?”
“I did what I do. I bought the guards.”
“You bought them?”
“I paid them, more than you were paying them, and now they’re mine. They’ll say anything I want, but the truth’ll do. That they were working for Koba and that he was working for you. How they set the bomb off. Killed Karlo. The whole thing.”
Vekua nodded several times, as if something finally made sense.
“OK. Enough. This is bullshit, of course. What happened to your leg?”
Blood was showing through the cloth. Without looking up, Webster said, “I slipped coming down. Hit a rock.”
She turned back to Hammer. “You and your friend, I will take you to Tbilisi, and you will be questioned about your part in the Gori bombing.”
Hammer let out a long sigh and shook his head.
“You know, Elene, maybe you have the energy for it but I’m too tired to lie. Too tired. I didn’t pay the guards. We had to shoot them. I had to shoot them. I didn’t want to but there was no other way. I hope they weren’t dear to you. But it’s OK because I reckon we have enough already, and we’re not the only ones who know it.”
Vekua was frowning now. Before he went on, Hammer turned and exchanged a look with Natela; he wanted to tell her that this would all be all right, he was going to look after her, but the next two minutes would be difficult. Trust me, in short.
“No one’s coming with you. I trusted my life to you once already today and that’s enough. I’m going to explain where we stand, you and I, but first it’s important you hear something. Most important thing you ever heard. Everything I tell you, I’ve already dictated to a woman in my company in London, and she wrote it down, and if anything happens to me she’s going to send it to the editor of the Tribune and a few other influential people. And she’ll post it online somewhere for good measure. You understand the lay of the land?”
“There is nowhere for you to call.”
“No. There is. There’s a nice little spot about two miles west of here and we just came that way. How d’you think I got Natela up here?”
Vekua considered it, and tried one last way round.
“You are a bold man. In Russia you killed two men. You tried to kill me. This in return for my help. I should arrest you, leave you in a Georgian jail for ten years. But the country does not need this disturbance. I will take you to Tbilisi, and you will fly home.”
“How did you know there were two of them?”
To her credit, she held his eye.
“Come.” Vekua picked up the rifles. “We go.”
“You’re not there yet, are you? OK. Your world is falling apart. It was always going to. That’s what happens to people like you.”
“Get up.”
“I’m not finished. I have a proposal for you. You’ll want to hear it, because it’s the only way you can get out of this mess.”
Vekua was still now, all her attention on Hammer.
“For this to work,” he said, “I need to know what you’ve done. Some pretty bad things, I imagine. I think you killed all those people in Gori. I saw you kill Koba tonight. He was yours, right? All the way through?”
Vekua said nothing.
“And Karlo?”
Hammer stared at her, wanting her to acknowledge part of this, to show the smallest crack.
“My point is, there’s no going back, Elene. Your future’s across the border.”
So focused was he on Vekua, so absorbed in the contest, that he had forgotten Natela. He sensed movement at the corner of his eye, saw her stand up from the bench and lunge at Vekua. In her hand she had a heavy earthenware jug that had been on the table, and as she moved past Vano she swung it hard at Vekua’s head, shouting in Georgian.
Vekua was no more prepared for it than Hammer, but reacted quickly enough to raise an arm, so that her thick coat took the force of the blow.
“Natela, no!” shouted Hammer.
She didn’t hear him. With her free hand she reached for Vekua’s throat, and as they struggled Hammer saw Vekua bring her pistol up into Natela’s side. He stood, expecting each moment the dead echoless noise he had heard too many times that night. Vano was on his feet, his carved face helpless. The guard moved his gun from one to the other, shouting in Georgian.
No noise came. Just Vekua’s voice, less certain than it had ever sounded. Something in Georgian, then English.
“I will shoot if she does not stop.”
Vano was next to them, and now he put one hand on Natela’s shoulder and with the other tried to pull her gently away. In the silence he spoke softly, until her grip on Vekua’s neck relaxed and he was able to separate them.
Warily, they moved apart; they stared at each other for a moment, Natela still taut and ready to attack, Vekua filled with adrenaline and menace. Vano said something more to Natela, and after a long, final look at her adversary she began to turn away. Hammer saw something in Vekua’s expression change: menace gave way to viciousness, and with the pistol still in her hand she hooked her fist into the side of Natela’s head. Vano watched her reel away, then turned to Vekua, and Hammer thought his ancient instincts of hospitality and fight were going to get the better of him; but Vekua waved the pistol in his face, and motioned for him to sit down, and after several long moments, he did.
Hammer had his arm round Natela now and guided her back to the table. Blood had started on a bad cut at the base of her ear. Ignoring Vekua, Eka stood and left the room, returning with a clean white handkerchief, which she passed to Hammer. Hammer thanked her, and glared at Vekua.
“You should have kicked her off the mountain,” said Webster.
“I wasn’t sure then.”
“Enough,” said Vekua, her pistol out in front and her composure partly restored. “We go. All of you.”