A Bride of Allah

Viktor reluctantly started down the hallway. Along the way, he, as if by accident, looked into Andrei’s room. The girl fearfully looked at the two men; her tense hands rested on her knees. Viktor winked at Aiza with a smile; he squinted and ogled the girl.

At the front door, he whispered to Andrei, “Have you changed your tactic? Now you suffocate the enemy by hugging?”

Andrei, silent, pushed out his laughing buddy and locked the door behind him.

Alone in the stairway, Chervyakov lit up a cigarette. His smile disappeared, his forehead wrinkled up, his lips whispered thoughtfully, “He used to bash their heads in.”

Chapter 18
Nord Ost
Day Two, Evening

His feet plodded through puddles. Cold gusts of wind blew through his clothes; drops of rain ran down his hollow cheeks, getting caught and breaking in his stubble. Andrei Vlasov, consumed by the idea of revenge, paid no attention to whims of nature; before he knew it, he was near the building he looked for. All the way over, he talked to Sveta in his mind. He though she was asking him to avenge her.

He came into a courtyard flanked by two standard five-story apartment blocks. Sveta lived in a building just like these, so Andrei knew the apartments’ numbering. Every time he walked his girlfriend home, he would stand under her windows waiting for Sveta to wave goodbye to him through a window.

He gazed over the façade. The windows of the Chechen woman’s apartment overlooked the courtyard. All windows were dark: no one in the apartment. That was even better; no need to break in, he would wait and do her in the courtyard.

Andrei tried to remember what the woman looked like. All he could remember was an eternally concerned stare of her dark eyes. Would he recognize her? Definitely. She was from the Caucasus after all. She would be his first victim! That was his decision. Why she? What did it matter? She had no time to look for another. He wanted to get it all done today!

Once he decided, he calmed down. His brain was coldly calculating the plan of the murder. The important part was to decide whether he wanted to disguise the murder as a robbery gone bad or to demonstrate right away that it was revenge.

After some deliberation, he decided to stick with option one. It was too early to show that Chechen women were being killed just for being Chechens. After the fourth or fifth instance, everyone would make the connection anyway. And if they didn’t, he would throw a hint to the nosy reporters.

How would he kill her? He wouldn’t use the gun just yet; he might have to use the bullets elsewhere. There are easier ways to kill a single woman.

Vlasov looked around. Along the road, there was a low metal fence, bent in a few places by recklessly driven cars. A few hits with the heel of his shoe, and Andrei was able to pull a piece of rebar out of the ground. Short and heavy: just what he needed. One strike, and that would be it!

Andrei wiped the rod with wet leaves; whatever the reason, he didn’t want to use a dirty rod. In addition, now he could hide it under his clothes. The piece of rebar fit into his sleeve up to the elbow. This way, it was completely invisible. The end stuck out and could be hidden in the palm of his hand. He only had to wait for the victim.

It was still raining; cold, disgusting drizzle. The weather was crappy. Vlasov walked into the other apartment block and up to the top landing. Through the window, he could see the courtyard very well. Wherever the Chechen woman were coming from, she wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Andrei also decided that if anyone sees him in the building, he would put the murder off. He’d find the woman later, elsewhere, and kill her anyway. But right now, he had to be careful. One victim was not enough. He had big plans.

* * * * *

Two hours went by. It was completely dark now, but it wasn’t raining anymore, so the streetlights, it seemed, shone brighter. Finally, he saw a silhouette in the courtyard; a woman and a boy of about six. For a moment, the streetlight highlighted the long-nosed face with a headscarf wrapping around it.

That’s her!

His heart started racing.

During this time, he hasn’t seen anyone. So he could act. But the boy? What to do about him? Should he leave a witness? He quickly came downstairs, feverishly adjusting the operation plan.

When he stepped out of the building, Andrei pulled his hood over his head and looked around. Not a soul. The Chechen woman and the boy were fifteen paces away, their backs to him. The ideal setup. The fog of doubt lifted completely; his mind was terrifyingly clear, his muscles tensed.

He would quietly walk up to them. Push the kid hard. The boy would have to fall face down, so that he wouldn’t see anything. When he falls, Andrei would hit the woman on the head. Better do it a few times to make sure. Then he would pick up her purse and walk away quickly, but without panic.

He wished the kid wouldn’t turn around, or he would have to get rid of him, too.

Andrei wasn’t worried about accidental witnesses. A black hooded figure in a dark courtyard; with a description like that, he’d never be found. He wouldn’t leave any fingerprints, either. He would only take cash from the purse and dump the rest around the corner. Let it be found. A typical robbery. And he would destroy his gloves and jacket. Just to be sure.

“Sveta, I will avenge you!” he thought excitedly.

Vlasov was catching up to the woman quickly, but quietly. He could walk stealthily; he learned that in the army.

Five paces between them. Now, only three. Show time!

The woman stopped and started to adjust something in the boy’s clothing. Andrei, looking only at the back of her head covered with the warm headscarf, took another step, pulled the piece of rebar from his sleeve unsteadily, and raised his weapon.

The kid! He had to push the kid first!

But his hand was already raised high. Now he would have to kill him too.

Chapter 19

August 31, 10:25 PM

Andrei’s Room

After he showed his neighbor out, Vlasov came back to Aiza. The girl’s tension and shivers were gone, her breathing was steady, but she was visibly depressed. She seemed full of sadness and suffering. Upon a close look, he noticed the slight tremor in her fingers and a carefully concealed grimace of pain.

“Poor girl,” Andrei almost said, but he immediately thought back to the outbursts of fury with which the mad girl with TNT wrapped around her waist attacked him in his car. He instinctively touched his neck; the scratches were still hurting.

The bobcat turned into a sick kitten. For how long?

“Have you taken the pills?” Andrei unceremoniously touched the girl’s forehead. Aiza nodded obediently; her sweaty cool skin felt slippery to the touch. “You’re not burning up. Looks like a hangover after a big party. Have you drunk anything since this morning?”

Aiza shook her head no.

“No smell… Have you been injected?”

The girl nodded. Andrei lifted up her powerless hand and rolled up her sleeve.

“Clean,” he concluded after he looked on the insides of both her elbows. “Did you get injected only today? Come on, talk to me!”

“Yes,” the girl said barely audibly.

“Did they say it was for courage, so you feel no fear?”

“Um, yes.”

“That can be fixed. Tell you what, let’s have some vodka! It won’t hurt you. A great antidepressant. I know it from my own experience. In Chechnya, we used to – » Andrei faltered and pulled on the girl’s hand. “Let’s go!”

In the kitchen, he sat Aiza at the table and rummaged on the shelves.

“Here!” He pulled out a bottle of vodka. “ER! Know what it means? Emergency Reserve. To be used only in emergency. Like now.”

He rinsed the glasses and poured vodka.