A Bride of Allah

“Drink.”

Aiza obediently drank, then winced.

“Now that’s good,” Andrei approved. “Now eat something. By the morning, you’d feel cool as a pickle. Speaking of, we’ve got pickles. Great snack. And I’ll boil some dumplings, too.”

He was working the kitchen looking at Aiza over his shoulder and talking almost non-stop. Here are the dumplings, frozen. Now the water is boiling, I am tossing them in. Damn! I almost burned myself; splashes. Now let’s salt it. Do you like dumplings? Mom used to roll her own, but these days, there’s such variety in the stores, just pick. These seem to be okay.

The girl’s face lost its deadly pallor; her eyes came alive. She looked around.

“Do you live here with your mom?”

“Yes. You’ve met her.”

“Do you have a wife?”

“A wife?” Andrei paused, as if looking for an answer to a complicated question. He slowly stirred the boiling dumplings. “I don’t have a wife.”

“A bride?” Aiza asked quietly.

“I did… But not anymore.”

“What’s her name?”

“Sveta. Svetlana.”

“Did you have a fight? Did you break up?” Aiza got interested.

“You could say that.”

“Is she beautiful?”

Andrei turned away, pretending to remove a sore from his eye. He whispered quietly, “Very.”

“Is she nice?” Aiza wouldn’t quit.

Andrei, surprised, look at her. Why did she keep prying? But he answered, “Yes.”

“Then you have to make up! Call her.”

“Now?” Andrei was baffled. “I can’t.”

“It’s late,” the girl agreed and added convincingly, “Sveta will cal you! She definitely will! You’ll see. You’re a good man, she’ll call.”

Andrei instinctively touched the phone in his pocket. It seemed that the phone was about to start vibrating announcing an incoming call.

Just like it did that evening, when he raised a piece of rebar over a woman and a child.

Raised it to kill.

Chapter 20

Nord Ost

Day Two, Late Evening

Suddenly, something stirred inside his jacket. Andrei started, his fingers lost the grip, the raised piece of rebar dropped on the asphalt. The woman turned around, scared, trying to cover the child. Her pose betrayed the helplessness of a hen trying to protect her chick; fear was in her eyes. She understood everything, her fear transferred to the child, he squeaked, “Mama!” The woman’s wide opened eyes awaited execution.

Here eyes were light, a strand of dark blond hair fell from under her headscarf. It wasn’t the Chechen woman; it was someone totally different!

Andrei looked at her stupidly until he realized that his phone was vibrating. He turned the ringer off before he tried getting into the theater. He abruptly pulled the phone out. The woman jumped aside and fell down. The child cried louder.

“Sveta!” Andrei yelled when he realized whose voice he just heard through the phone. “Svetochka!”

“Andryusha, dear, honey,” Svetlana prattled incoherently. “I can’t call my mom. Where is she, did you talk to her?”

“Of course; she’s hanging around the theater. Waiting for you. There’s a bunch of relatives there; they’re getting help. Are you alive?” he asked a stupid question and immediately corrected himself. “Are you okay?”

The scared woman got up from a puddle, picked up the crying child and ran away into a building.

“Yes. Tell my mom to start organizing pickets against the war in Chechnya. Otherwise, we’ll be shot. Tomorrow, everyone has to come out into the Red Square.”

“Sveta – ”

“I can’t talk anymore. If there are no protests, we’ll be shot,” the girl kept repeating.

“Sveta, is anyone standing next to you?”

“Yes.”

“Can I call you later?”

“No.”

The call ended. Andrei stood in the dark courtyard, looked at his phone, and waited for another call. Then, he carried the phone in his hand for a while to be able to answer Svetlana’s call right away. Every now and then, he looked at the display to make sure that the battery isn’t dead and the network is available.

The phone was in working order. But no more calls came in.

She called him “honey”. It’s been so long since she called him that. An eternity.

The hostages may be shot! No, those were empty threats. Just empty threats, he kept telling himself. And immediately remembered: one girl was already dead. And kept beating away a shameful thought: good thing it wasn’t Sveta.