The Leveling

“I’m not giving you twenty thousand dollars.”


“It’s not twenty thousand dollars. It’s a bag full of paper made to look like twenty thousand dollars’ worth of Turkmen manats. Besides, this is my life we’re talking about.”

“Your life?”

“Yeah. My job, my book, my home. My life. All that got trashed. I want to know why, and what I can do to fix it.”

“The only reason you had a life to get trashed was because of Decker. You’d be dead if it weren’t for him.”

“Are you talking about what happened in Baku?”

“What else?”

“I was paying him a boatload to provide protection then, Daria. He was doing his job. I don’t owe him anything.” Although, as Mark spoke, he realized that wasn’t quite true. The first time Decker had saved his life, Decker had been under contract with the US embassy in Baku. It was only later, because of that incident, that Mark had hired him. “Besides, we don’t even know that he’s in trouble.”

Daria stood up, shouldered the bag of money, flipped a lock of hair out of her face, and began walking toward the door. Then she turned to face Mark.

“Did you ever consider that whoever came after you might also be after me? I might not have been stupid enough to use an e-mail address that sent them straight to my door, like you did, but encryption software isn’t perfect. There’s a digital trail that they can use to track me down if whoever came after you has enough money and expertise. I’m not safe here any more than you were safe in Baku. Did you ever think about that?”

“I didn’t even know you were involved until now. Where are you going?”

“First the Turkmen embassy on Abay Street to get myself a five-day transit visa, then the President Hotel in Ashgabat, which is where Decker and I and everyone else involved in the negotiations stayed while we were over there. I’ll see if I can pick up any leads at the hotel. Then I’ll go to the meeting at the mosque.”

Mark doubted that the few hundred dollars in US cash he had on hand would be enough for the bribes that would be needed to secure a visa. Prior experience suggested it would cost several thousand. Maybe more, given that it was after-hours.

“You know I can help, Daria.”

“Yeah, but help at what? I’m going over there to help Decker. That’s my main objective. I have to know you’re OK with that. If you can get your life back in the process and I can get some peace of mind, that’s great too, but…”

“If I can help Deck, I will. You have my word.”

Daria let out a genuine, spontaneous laugh.

“That wasn’t meant to be a joke,” said Mark.

“Are you forgetting I know you?”

“Come on, Daria. I bullshit people when I need to bullshit them, but I’m not bullshitting you now.”

After a long time she gave a slight nod.

“Thank you,” said Mark.





25




DECKER ALMOST PASSED out from the pain when he first sank his swollen hands into the dirt behind the two-layer-thick portion of the brick wall he’d removed. But after a couple of minutes, his injured fingers numbed up and he began to use them like little spades. Each shovelful of dirt he placed quietly on the ground.

He focused on his training. Even when things seem hopeless, keep pushing, keep probing any way you can. Make every effort to escape.

Knock this out.

Above him, he heard voices arguing, but he couldn’t tell what about.

When light appeared in the cracks around the trapdoor, he spread out the bricks and pile of dirt on the ground and tamped it down, slipped his legs back through his arms so that his hands were behind him, limped to a spot beneath the trapdoor, and carefully positioned his body so that it hid his handiwork. He couldn’t let anyone come down to get him.

“I’m hungry!” Decker called out, his voice barely a whisper. The trapdoor creaked and the guard lifting it groaned. “Please.”

The man with the black turban appeared from above.

“Don’t shut the door,” said Decker. “I can’t stand it down here.”

“If you agree to help us, you may eat as much as you like.”

“I’ll help you,” said Decker.

“You may breathe fresh air. Why should you live like an animal?”

“I’ll tell you where my partner is, and why I was sent here.”

“Then climb up.”

Decker struggled to ascend the rickety wooden ladder they lowered down. When he’d almost reached the top, two guards hooked their hands under his armpits and pulled him out the rest of the way.

“Now what was it you wanted to tell me?” asked the man in the black turban.

Decker didn’t say anything. When the question was repeated, he turned his head and waited for the blow.





PART II





26


Ashgabat, Turkmenistan