The Searcher (33 page)

H
alf 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.

 • • • 

T
he 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.”

O
ut of the village they marched, all six of them, with the guns leveled at their backs and Vekua's flashlight playing over the ground at their feet. Hammer walked beside Natela, who lit a cigarette and drew deeply on it in the cold; Irodi helped Webster along, and behind them came Vano and Eka. Vano looked back over his shoulder from time to time to let Vekua know he hadn't forgotten her. The sky was clear, and under the moon the snow shone with unnatural brightness, picking out each figure in monochrome.

Hammer fell into thought, but every idea stumbled on an objection. Something had to be done before they reached the helicopter, because as soon as they were in it Vekua's control would be complete. She could do anything with them. If he only knew what she was planning. If he could be sure that her henchman was an unwitting part of it all. If he'd had the sense to hide his gun.

“You get the chance,” he whispered to Natela, “I want you to tell the pilot that his boss is a traitor. Convince him. I'll try to keep her attention elsewhere. Tell him she's the one who killed the people in Gori.”

Natela looked at him and understood.

After a hundred yards they turned off the road through a line of trees into a flat field where the snow was deeper, and Hammer saw a little way off the awkward, drooping shape of an old military helicopter.

“Keep going,” said Vekua, in Georgian and English, her voice stony in both.

She couldn't shoot them all here. Too much to clear up. And if the pilot was not one of hers, she'd have to shoot him, too. Hammer's guess was that
she would take the pressing problems away to deal with on her own terms, and when she had better resources and more time come back for the villagers. They wouldn't be going anywhere, after all.

But this was logical, and he wondered whether Vekua was still operating according to logic. Her tight little plan had come loose, and she like Hammer was now making it up.

Still some way short of the helicopter he stopped and turned, planting his feet in the snow.

“I want to talk to you alone.”

Everyone came to a stop.

“Keep going,” said Vekua.

“Not until you and I have talked.”

Vekua held the gun at arm's length and pointed it at Hammer's head.

“Go.”

“You know who I am. You know what I can do for you. But I can only discuss it alone.”

As he said the words, he became conscious of movement and sound behind her, a faint disturbance in the darkness. Vekua turned and stepped slightly aside, and past her Hammer saw something bounding through the deep powder at an unlikely speed.

Vano shouted at his dog. Hammer could see its distinctly wolfish look and its bared teeth. Vano shouted again; he could have been telling it to stop or to charge. The dog barked as it came, a terrifying noise against the silence. Off balance, Vekua stumbled backward, her boots caught in the snow, and as she fell the dog sprang for her from a great distance, its jaws open and ready. Another movement, to Hammer's left; he barely caught it but he heard the gunshot, registered the flash from the barrel of the pilot's pistol, and saw the dog stunned in its flight as the bullet passed through its neck.

It landed heavily on Vekua; Irodi ran to it as she struggled to pull herself clear. The pilot shouted at him to step back but Irodi ignored him, holding the dog's head and talking to it softly. Vekua stood by and stared as if in shock. Then he looked up at her and issued a command, in a cold hard voice Hammer hadn't heard him use before, and she raised her gun. Irodi said
some final words, stroked the dog's ear, and stood, stepping back. He nodded to Vekua and she pulled the trigger.

For an instant, no one moved and no one spoke. Then it was over, and Vekua's gun was up once more.

“Go. You three, move.” And then to Irodi, who went to stand by his mother: “Sad aris is? Where is the old man?”

Hammer looked around. Vano was gone.

 • • • 

V
ekua had the pilot stay with Eka and Irodi, and marched the others the last fifty yards to the helicopter. Hammer watched her calculating: forget the old man. Get out of here before he can do any damage.

“You need to listen to me, Elene. You could do well out of this.”

She waved her gun at Webster, who was struggling to get into the helicopter. “In. Now.”

“His leg's hurt.”

“I will shoot the other if he does not get in.”

Hammer did his best to help Webster in through the sliding door, but he had left his gloves on the table in the house, and the metal was icy on his skin. Scanning the field, he could see no trace of Vano, not even his footsteps in the snow.

She shouted something in Georgian, and the pilot slowly walked away from Irodi, backward at first, then looking over his shoulder, then purposefully ahead to the cockpit.

“Now you.” Vekua gestured to Natela, who hesitated.

“The thing is, Elene,” said Hammer, leaning in to her and not quite whispering, “if it's money you like, I can make you rich. If it's something else, that same money could accomplish a lot.”

She smiled, relaxing a touch, and then her face started at a sudden noise and she turned at the same time as Hammer to see the pilot sprawled in the snow not ten yards from them, and Vano barely visible against the outline of the village with a rifle at his shoulder. Irodi swept his mother to the ground, shielding her body; Hammer tried to get himself between Vekua and Natela, but Vekua had her, gripped by the sleeve, the pistol at her throat.

“Vano! Don't shoot!” screamed Hammer, and prayed he'd be understood.

Vekua looked about her, began to back away, shouted something behind her.

“Tell them. I will shoot.”

“Niet!” shouted Hammer, waving his hands. “Ara! Don't shoot!”

Vekua walked backward now, away from the helicopter and toward the road, her gun still pressed into Natela's neck. More helpless than he had ever felt, Hammer watched them go in the eerie light. He had nothing left.

“What do I do?”

Webster shook his head. “Follow at a distance. That's all you can do.”

“She'll shoot.”

“No she won't. Not until she's sure she can get away.”

“You have faith in her sense of logic.”

“What else have we got?”

Irodi had his arm round his mother; Vekua passed them and continued steadily on.

“When?” said Hammer.

“When they get to the road.”

Moving as one creature, Vekua and Natela passed through the trees that lined the road and turned toward the village. At a wary jog Hammer set off, and when he reached Irodi, beckoned for him to follow. Irodi looked at his mother and Eka waved him on.

He felt better with Irodi. A little. Together they went swiftly to the road and then slowed to Vekua's pace, creeping as softly as they could in the snow, waiting for her to turn and sweep the flashlight behind her. But her mind was on the village, and escape, and she kept it shining ahead.

Irodi's 4 x 4 was parked by the first house. Vekua went straight to it, let go of Natela, and opened the door. With the flashlight in one hand and the gun pointing as best she could back at Natela, she searched, sending the beam flashing about the dark cabin. Hammer felt Irodi's hand on his arm and looked up to see him holding the key.

Even at that distance Hammer could sense Vekua's anger when she eventually stepped out, and it sent fresh cold through him. He didn't want her
desperate. She raised her gun hand at the car, shot one of the tires, and disappeared with Natela into the blackness between the houses.

Irodi began to run and Hammer followed him, feeling slow and old and out of ideas. Where they should have been there was only the sound of his boots going clumsily in the snow and the burn of his lungs as they struggled to take in enough of the frozen air.

Between the houses of the village there was barely any light, so Hammer followed the sound and sense of Irodi, just making out his form, which now stopped still to listen. Above the sound of his breath and his heart Hammer heard a rhythm that he recognized but couldn't place. It grew louder, until Irodi's hand pulled him sharply from the middle of the track and the dark weight of a horse thudded past them, already going at speed.

Irodi shouted at him, pressed something into his hand, and slapped him with urgency on the shoulder. Go. Hammer went, back the way he had come, slipping and staggering toward the car, yanking the door open, and scrambling in. Fumbling, he found the ignition, turned the key, found the lights, and drove in a wide arc away from Diklo and out onto the road, the beams picking out Vano as he helped Eka back across the great field of white.

On the snow, with one tire out, the car was wayward, tugging first right then left, and Hammer worked hard to respond. Carefully, he picked up speed and watched the furthest point of the headlights' reach for any sign, concentrating so hard that when Irodi's horse moved past him it made him start. He hadn't seen him ride like this, pressed forward in the saddle, head down, improbably fast. A rifle was slung across his back.

Hammer did his best to keep up but Irodi's horse pulled away. So sure it was on the road. And then he saw them: at the limits of the light, a strange dark shape.

They moved closer; Hammer could see Natela's green coat and her hair in the wind. As Irodi drew near he left the road and started to flank the other horse, heading out wide up an incline until he was riding level and higher. Vekua turned to look at him, waved her gun but kept riding. Now that Hammer could see her, she looked less than steady in the saddle.

Slowly, Irodi came down the bank, keeping slightly ahead now, so that
the other horse was forced left, off the road, and across the field that sloped gradually away into darkness. Hammer's mouth was dry again as he followed, acrid with fear.

“What the fuck is he doing?”

The pace slowed in the deeper snow. Irodi continued to push the horse from the right, and signaled now for Hammer to move up on the other side. Where was this leading? He must have something in mind. Surely. As he drew nearer he saw that the horse Vekua had taken was Shakari.

Abruptly, she slowed, turned to her left, and pulled up, her breath pluming in the headlights. Vekua drove her heels into her flanks but she had had enough. Angrily, she threw her head back and neighed, a mournful sound.

Behind her the snow finished in a stark line, and beyond there was only black. Hammer knew where they were: at the top of a long ridge that curved round back to the village and fell away in a scrubby drop of fifty feet at least, not quite sheer.

Vekua looked down, looked back at Irodi and the car. She had nowhere to go.

Hammer turned off the engine, breathed steadily to compose himself, and opened the door. This was his time. He could make this work.

Shielding her eyes from the headlights, Vekua pulled her gun from the pocket of her coat, twisted around, and pushed it into Natela, who looked to Hammer with fearful eyes. The horse had no saddle, and seemed too small to support the two of them.

Irodi reached for the rifle on his back but Hammer raised a hand to tell him to leave it. All was silent except for the panting of the horse.

“Give me the key,” shouted Vekua. “I will get down, you will stand back.”

“The key's in the ignition, Elene. It's all yours. You go. You leave Natela here.”

“I need her.”

Hammer took two steps toward them, his palms up, ever so slowly.

“You don't need her. Take the car. The road down there, it leads to the river, and from there you can walk to the border. Cross the border, Elene. That's the country you serve. They'll look after you.”

He took another step. Vekua swung the pistol away from Natela, who turned in the saddle and grabbed at it, knocking Vekua's hands away and sending the shot off over Hammer's head into the night. The loud dead crack sounded through the night; Shakari shied and backed away, swinging her head from side to side, her hooves scrabbling at the snow and then at air. She sank first, then slipped away, and with a single scream Natela and Vekua went with her.

Hammer saw the empty space and felt that he was tumbling, that he had fallen with them.

Before he could move, Irodi had jumped from his horse and was running to the edge. Hammer went to him, barely conscious of his movements, and together they stood hopelessly searching the blackness.

“Light,” said Hammer. “We need light.”

Irodi understood and left him.

“Natela!” In his mind he heard her voice, so clearly. The shape of it. It was the shape of her. It couldn't be gone. It wasn't finished. “Natela!”

Irodi was by his side again, flashlight in hand. He put a hand on Hammer's back and played the beam over the bone gray of the wiry trees and brush that covered the sheer slope. Where the horse had fallen the snow had been disturbed, and at the bottom by the road Hammer thought he could make out three dark shapes lying still.

“Oh God.”

There was hardly enough light to see. He took the flashlight from Irodi and searched every foot, forcing himself to be systematic as the thundering grew louder in his head.

A noise. A rustling. Close, something settling. Irodi heard it, too, and guided the flashlight toward it. In among the gray and the white of the scrub was a patch of green, about twenty feet down, almost obscured.

As Hammer called Natela's name, he heard the sound of the car's engine and then Irodi was there, crouching down in the headlights with a rope in his hands. He looped it through the bumper and made to tie one end round his waist but Hammer stopped him. He had to be the first to know. Either way, he had to be the first.

Irodi tied the knot for him, checked that it would hold, and with a grave nod of respect and hope stepped back, bracing himself and paying out the rope as Hammer took his first step backward into space.