Authors: Tim Tigner
“So ‘a Turk named Mehmet’ taught you to be vibrant when vulnerable? Is that another one of your American movie references like—what did you use earlier when you told me about your decision to leave the cabin—‘Yoda in the cave.’”
“Well, yeah. I mean yeah I did learn it from Mehmet, not yeah it’s a movie reference.”
“Go on.”
“Well, first of all, it wasn’t CIA orientation as you suggested. And to be completely accurate—always my chief concern—Mehmet had help from a pair of Caucasian wolfhounds.”
“Big white dogs?”
“Not that sense of Caucasian. Caucasian in its primary sense, as in the Caucuses, the rugged mountainous region dividing Europe and Asia where you find countries like Armenia and Azerbaijan struggling to survive. Think of sandals and sawed-off shotguns, rocky trails and vendettas. Think of families who have survived for thousands of years by breeding goats on dusty mountainsides. Think of the kind of dog you would employ to protect your herd, your family’s very livelihood, from packs of wolves and the occasional leopard. Picture eighty kilos of muscle-driven incisors bred to serve and survive in the harshest of conditions and you’ll have some conception of Caucasian wolfhounds.” Alex looked her in the eye and cocked his head. “But you knew that.”
Anna nodded playfully. “Tell me about your furry friends.”
“They come later in the story.”
“Are you
toying with me, Alex?”
“
No more than you’re toying with me. Actually, the wolfhounds are just the first picture that pops into my head when I remember the story, so I thought I would share the mood-setting image with you.”
“Lovely. And what were you
and your partner doing in the Caucuses?”
“
Actually, we were in Turkey, near the Iranian border. Mehmet and I were looking for men of, shall we say, anti-American sentiment.”
“I would think the US would use allies to do that. Easier to infiltrate a chicken coop if you don’t look like a fox.”
“Very perceptive, Doctor. Is that really wine in your glass?”
“We can switch if you don’t trust me.”
Alex poured the remainder of his wine into her glass with a take-that nod. “Well, you’re right. I was pretending to be Russian.”
“And Mehmet, what flag was he wearing?”
“Mehmet was Mehmet—as big as a bear, as tough as a tiger, and as silly as a seal.”
“
Is it the wine bringing out the wildlife theme, or were you a zoologist in a previous life?”
“No, I was a Mongolian king.”
“I’ll leave that one alone. More wine?”
“Doctor’s orders?”
“Psychologist’s.”
Alex pushed
his glass toward her. “So, back to vibrant versus vulnerable. After six weeks of dead-ends, we got a tip about a man who was willing to talk to us. He was a man whose son had been a member of the terrorist cell we were after—right up to the day they killed him. It was the first real break of the investigation.
“Mehmet and I were given a place to go and a time to be there. The meet was set up at the dead-end of a
dirt road ten miles from civilization. When we got there in our old Mitsubishi Pajero, a shiny new black Range Rover was waiting. Four men wearing ski masks got out, two with AK-74s, and two with metal detectors.”
“You mean AK-47s.”
“No. Automatic Kalashnikov model 74, introduced in … you guessed it, 1974. Don’t you know your own country’s history?”
“Don’t get cocky with me, Alex. I’ll call in your tab.”
He looked at her with honest eyes. “You know I owe you more than I can ever repay.” Then he shook his head and his voice returned. “Anyhow, the leader yelled over that we should leave all our equipment in the Pajero. We did, and then his boys gave us the once over with callused hands and metal detectors. They say you never really know the Middle East until you’ve been patted down by a terrorist, and I would have to agree.”
Anna choked on her wine and sprayed Alex. She hadn’t
opened a second bottle since medical school, and it showed. “Excuse me.”
Alex wiped his face, gave
a small bow, and plowed on. “Anyhow, once mister feel-good was satisfied, the leader pointed to the remains of a centuries-old monastery a couple hundred meters past where the road ended, and said, “The small building.”
“You weren’t afraid of a trap?”
“Of course we were afraid of a trap, at least at first—working these kinds of jobs you’re always afraid—but we figured we were clear when the fantastic four didn’t use their AKs to improve our Pajero’s ventilation. So, Mehmet and I made the trek over the rocky terrain to the cliff-side plateau that housed the abandoned monastery.
“The small, windowless stone building to which we’d been directed looked like the sheltered entrance to a cellar, presumably the larder where the monks kept their food protected from the merciless sun. As we approached, we heard the pounding of feet and turned to see—,” Alex looked up at her expectantly.
Anna just gave him the go-ahead nod.
“To see two Caucasian wolfhounds barreling toward us from the direction of the Range Rover.
“Mehmet and I ran to the building and jumped inside to put the door between us and those murderous fangs only to find ourselves falling into darkness. The building didn’t cover a stairwell, but rather a water well. We splashed down after a five-meter drop. By the time we surfaced, the wolfhounds were barking above, furious that we had denied them instant gratification.
“Can you picture it, Anna? There I am, treading water, as shocked, scared and demoralized as is humanly possible. Then my eyes adjust and I look over at Mehmet to see that he’s smiling. He looks back at me and his smile turns to laughter. I’m thinking that he hit his head, or the heat got to him. “What’s funny?” I ask. And do you know what he says?”
“Surprise?”
“No, but that’s a good guess. He says, ‘Alex, we’re in the middle of nowhere, trapped five meters down an abandoned well, with night falling and couple of the meanest creatures on God’s
green earth waiting above to devour us if we miraculously find a way to climb out of here before we drown. Absolutely nothing is funny.’
“‘So why are you laughing?’ I ask. And then Mehmet
gave me the power to change my life. He said to me, ‘Alex, we’re probably going to die today. I want to enjoy myself while I still can.’”
Anna stopped to stare at the table and think about what she’d just heard. Alex let her think. Finally, she looked up at him and said, “
Better vibrant than vulnerable.”
“Exactly. Of course, I didn’t get it at the time. There in the well I thought Mehmet was crazy.”
“What did you do? How did you get out?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s classified.”
“Alex!”
“Just kidding. We dove beneath the black water and discovered that the well went down another ten feet or so, which was deep enough to drown us, but not so deep that we couldn’t reach bottom. We searched through the muck and found an old rope there, presumably used to bring up water in a pail.”
“And you used it to climb out?”
“No. We put our backs together, locked elbows, and walked up the well. We used the rope to lasso the dogs. Actually, we only got one.
After three slippery tries, we got the rope around its neck and then just dropped back into the well, pulling it after us. We both got pretty scratched up, but we managed to drown it.”
“Fascinating.”
“Yeah, well, that wasn’t the word I would have used at the time, but Mehmet agreed with you. He just kept laughing and laughing about the ridiculousness of our situation. There we were clawed, cold, and still stuck at the bottom of a well with a monster above. It was nearly dark and we were bleeding to death. Yet all he could do was laugh as though we were a couple clowns.”
“So what happened?” Anna was impatient. It was like watching a thriller for the second time. Alex was there before her, so she knew how it ended, but she found herself tense and curious nonetheless.
“We tried the rope trick again with the second wolfhound, but that dog had learned from the first. Our legs were too tired to stay there near the top indefinitely, so after five unsuccessful attempts, we decided to leap out and fight while we still had some strength and there was a bit of light left. It wasn’t much of an option, but it was better than going back down to bleed to death below.”
“Alex, I’m trying to picture how, back to back, you leapt out of a well?”
“Well, if you’re going to get technical I suppose it was more of a lunge. That was no big deal, kind of like touching your toes but grabbing the rim instead. The tough part was figuring out what to do next. We tried to think of a way to get out without one of us becoming dinner and the other desert, but the best we could do was limit the meal to one course, hopefully an appetizer. We each wrapped our belts around our necks a couple of times to act as armor and then pushed off on “three” toward opposite sides of the well. It was fifty-fifty with the furry fangs for each of us. Mehmet drew the short straw.
“The wolfhound made a mess of him. Of all the things I’ve been through, nothing
has come close to the fear I felt diving on top of Cerberus as he shook Mehmet around like a rag doll. Fortunately, there was no time for feelings. I held on until I got the rope around the wolfhound’s neck, then its mouth. My hands still have scars, but that’s it.”
“What about Mehmet.”
“The belt saved him. He outlived the wolfhound but was rapidly losing blood from a dozen deep wounds by the time I strangled the beast. You’ll recall that we were a good hike from the jeep and a long way from anywhere. As I carried Mehmet back to the Pajero, he was joking about what I should put on his tombstone: ‘All’s well that ends in a well,’ ‘but for a bowl of kibble,’ silly stuff like that. The last thing he said to me was, ‘It’s been a hell of a ride Alex … a hell of a ride.’
“He died smiling, Anna. He died a terrible way in a terrible place, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Ever since then, when things get really tough
and I’m most vulnerable, I remember Mehmet and adjust my attitude to vibrant instead. There’s no sense going out with a frown.”
Alex awoke the next morning to the sound of the shower. He opened his eyes but the residual image of Anna’s lathered-up body remained sharply focused in his mind’s eye. He felt a tingle he hadn’t felt in … years. He sat up on the side of the cot and rested his bare feet on the cool parquet floor. The chemistry between them had been obvious from the moment their eyes met. What was he waiting for?
He stood and walked quietly to the bathroom door. Anna had left it cracked.
First she had put her hand on his knee, then she had left the door cracked.
He paused with his hand on the knob while the battle between right and wrong raged within.
Consenting adults, carpe diem, the healing power of love:
He had hurled the arguments against his conscience all day yesterday and into the night.
Exploitation, false expectations, broken hearts:
His scruples had deftly reflected each assault. The wall had held then. It would hold now. Alex took his hand from the knob, and retreated to his cot.
When Anna joined him in the kitchen half an hour later she was all smiles.
At least his defense hadn’t hurt her game
.
“I got your map.”
“That’s great. How did you manage it so early on a Sunday morning?”
“My neighbor is a geologist.” Anna unfolded the top of her tiny kitchen table, turning it from a two-seater to a four-seater. Then she rolled the map open, securing one end with the saltshaker, the other with the pepper.
Alex took a minute to get oriented. He wanted to be sure of himself. It was not the same type of map he had seen scanned onto an acetate in the Irkutsk Motorworks boardroom, and the scale was different, but the distinctive landmark gave him his bearing nonetheless. “That’s where I have to go,” he said, pointing to the right of Lake Banana.
“Oh, Alex, that’s not going to be easy. It’s not only the regional KGB
headquarters, it’s within the same fence line as an abandoned power plant. It’s dangerous there, so there’s lots of security—a high fence and patrols.”
“But people do go there to work?”
“Hundreds work at the KGB headquarters. The power plant, however,” she traced her finger a couple kilometers north to another complex, “Nobody in their right mind would go there.”
“Hum,” Alex thought. The words “nobody goes there” smacked of a clue, but before he could process it he noticed
a sadness in Anna’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Anna blinked and a silent tear dropped onto the map. Then she told him about her brother Kostya, and the others who lost their lives to the radiation leak. “Sometimes people still climb the fences, ignore the radiation signs and wander back there to hunt or scavenge. They end up dying in my hospital if they don’t go straight to the morgue. If you wander into the wrong place back there, Alex, it’s, it’s beyond horrible.”
“Why would the KGB keep its office so close to a radiation zone?”
“They just finished building it a month before the accident, a beautiful new facility. I thought it was strange myself that they didn’t move it, but apparently the radiation is very contained. There are a couple of kilometers of what they call a green shield between it and the offices. It obviously works since none of the employees has had a radiation problem. We monitor them closely.”
“Green shield?”
“A forest.”
“I see.”
“Let’s talk about something else,” she suggested. Alex smiled, and before he knew it they were back in chitchat mode again. The hours flew by.
After lunch her eyes began to sparkle with a hint of intrigue and she said, “I want you to take a nap now.”
“Why?”
“Well, for starters, you’re not fully recovered yet, but the main reason is that we have a big evening ahead of us.”
“Big evening?”
“It’s a surprise. Now get some sleep.”