Cliff Ryder - Black Widow

"He came back for me. For me and the baby. He found out that Taburova sent me into Moscow." Maaret shook her head. "I do not know how he found me that night, but he did."

Tracking device, Ajza thought. He was keeping watch over you. My brother would never have left you and his baby.

"He begged me to come away with him," Maaret went on. "I could not."

"Why?"

Maaret stared at her. "Because I am Chechen. Because I want my people to be free."

"Ilyas wanted you to be free."

"No." Maaret shook her head vehemently. "No. He was a traitor to my people. He was a traitor to our faith. He came to us, to Taburova, and won us over with his stories." Her lips stretched in silent pain for a time before she could speak again. "Taburova believed in him. I believed in him. I fell in love with him and married him." She put a hand to her head. "My God. I do not know how I could have done such a thing after I was sold to Taburova. I thought I was dead. I should have been dead."

"How did Ilyas die?"

"He took the explosives from me. I should not have let him, but I was feeling the baby kicking. I knew it was almost time for him to be born. He was so close to living." Maaret's face knotted in agony again. "I should not have been weak."

"Ilyas took the explosives," Ajza said in a quavering voice. "That was his decision."

"I know, but I should not have let him."

"You would not have been able to stop him." Ajza remembered how stubborn her brother could be. "It was his choice. Did he set off the explosives?"

"It was Taburova. He was watching. I did not think he was, but he was there. When Ilyas tried to get rid of the explosives, Taburova set them off."

"Taburova killed Ilyas."

Maaret nodded. "He told me…he told me that he knew Ilyas would be there. He said it was the only way to kill the traitor to our people."

The baby stirred restlessly and whimpered.

Maaret adjusted his blanket and held him close. "I came home the night after Ilyas died. I wished I had been the one to die. Then I went into labor. I prayed for God to take me then, because women who die in childbirth go to heaven no matter what sins they have committed. But I did not die. And my son was born." She traced his round face with her fingers. "Then I saw him and held him and smelled him, and I knew I would do whatever was in my power to take care of him."

"And you have," Ajza said.

Lifting her gaze, Maaret said, "That is why Taburova lets me live. As long as I have my son and I can protect him, Taburova knows I will do anything he says."

For a while Ajza sat there in the silence. She thought about Ilyas and the predicament his widow and son were in. And there was nothing she could do to get them out of it.

"I'm sorry," Ajza whispered a short time later.

But Maaret was asleep, her head lolling against the wall. Ajza eased the young woman down, realizing that they were sisters-in-law, and discovered Maaret was still burning up with fever.

She left the space long enough to get a bowl of water and a piece of cloth to use as a compress. Then she sat on the bed and gently laid Maaret's head in her lap. She bathed her head, praying that the fever would break and the woman would recover.

"Wake up!"

Someone kicked Ajza's foot. Pain shot up her leg and brought her to instant wakefulness. She started to roll away and rise in a defensive crouch, but Maaret's weight stopped her.

One of Taburova's men stood before her. He'd torn the curtain away and it pooled at his feet. He held a pistol. Behind him, another man was yelling at the women on the opposite side of the room.

"Get up," the guard ordered. "We have things to do today."

Ajza wanted to tell the man that Maaret was sick, that she needed to rest. Before she could, the woman on the other side of the room complained of being sick. The second guard kicked her and demanded that she get up.

The woman made an effort to stand, but only succeeded in vomiting on the guard's boots. Angrily the man reached down and jerked her to her feet. The woman stood for a moment, then swayed. Her knees buckled and she hit the floor.

Callously the guard aimed his pistol at her and pulled the trigger. The detonation woke Maaret's baby and made him cry. His frightened cries woke Maaret when the guard's rough voice had not. She reached for her child and pulled him close.

"This one was useless," the second guard said of the woman he'd killed.

The first guard nodded and turned back to Ajza and Maaret. "Get up." This time he pointed the pistol at them.

Ajza stood and helped Maaret to her feet. Fortunately the young woman's flesh felt much cooler. Her fever had broken.

"Is something wrong with her?" the guard demanded.

"She'll be fine," Ajza said. "She was up late last night, and the baby makes her tired."

"If she can't make it to Moscow," the guard threatened, "she will be shot where she falls."

The fragile hope that Ajza had nurtured all through the night vanished in a breath. She could only worry about what to do with her brother's widow and infant son.

She had no answers and time was up.

* * *

Ajza carried the baby down the mountainside. She was tired and worn-out from the past few days, and she took every step with care. The baby wasn't all that heavy, but he was still a burden.

Maaret was too weak to carry her son. At times, Ajza had to help the younger woman, as well. She feared that one of the guards would decide Maaret was moving too slowly and shoot her.

They went in single file. Taburova rode his pony down the mountainside without a problem, but several of the women slipped and fell. When they did, the men would beat them until they got to their feet again.

Just before they reached the flat ground, a convoy of old trucks rattled into view. The vehicles stopped at the foot of the mountain and waited.

When the women reached the trucks, the guards lined them up. Taburova rode his horse in front of them, sizing them up with his relentless gaze.

"The time has come," Taburova declared as he reined in his mount. "Tonight you will lay down your lives for Chechnya."

Ajza stared at the man and remembered how heroic he'd appeared that night on the mountainside when he'd killed Achmed. Now she knew that he was exactly what the files she'd read had told her he was: a cold-blooded murderer. It didn't matter that he wrapped a flag around his bloody work. Taburova lived to kill people.

Ajza stared at the trucks, wondering if the weapons she'd come looking for were stored in them. No. The weapons wouldn't be so easy to get to.

"Get on the trucks," Taburova ordered.

His men started shoving the women toward the trucks.

Ajza strode forward with the child still in her arms. Maaret held on to her elbow for support and stumbled along beside her. They climbed into a truck, and Ajza took a seat on the floor in the rear, her mind raced. There had to be a way out.

* * *

New York

Kate watched the mass exodus from the Black Widow camp then the convoy trundling along the dirt road, with alarm. According to the map she had access to, the nearest paved road was twenty miles away.

"They're not out for a Sunday drive," Jake commented.

"No, they're not. Do you think it's possible they've been tipped off that they're being watched?"

"Sure. But a guy like Taburova, do you think he'd try to sneak off in broad daylight?"

"No." Kate backed up the video recording until she saw Taburova talking to the women. Even from the view from the satellite, she recognized the man at once. "He'd kill everyone in the camp and disappear into the night."

"That's what I was thinking." Jake scratched his jaw. "That makes this a business trip."