Lie down with lions - Ken Follett [138]
When she opened her eyes she saw a circle of anxious faces above her: Ellis, Mohammed, Halam and the woman. Ellis said: “How do you feel?”
“Foolish,” she said. “What happened?”
“You fainted.”
She sat upright. “I’ll be all right.”
“No, you won’t,” said Ellis. “You can’t go any farther today.”
Jane’s head was clearing. She knew he was right. Her body would not take any more, and no effort of will would change that. She started to speak French so that Mohammed could understand. “But the Russians are sure to reach here today.”
“We’ll have to hide,” said Ellis.
Mohammed said: “Look at these people. Do you think they could keep a secret?”
Jane looked at Halam and the woman. They were watching, riveted by the conversation even though they could not understand a word of it. The arrival of the foreigners was probably the most exciting event of the year. In a few minutes the whole of the village would be here. She studied Halam. Telling him not to gossip would be like telling a dog not to bark. The location of their hideout would be known all over Nuristan by nightfall. Was it possible to get away from these people, and sneak off up a side valley unobserved? Perhaps. But they could not live indefinitely without help from the local people—at some point their food would run out, and that would be about the time the Russians realized they had stopped and began searching the woods and canyons. Ellis had been right, earlier in the day, when he said their only hope was to stay ahead of their pursuers.
Mohammed drew heavily on his cigarette, looking thoughtful. He spoke to Ellis. “You and I will have to go on, and leave Jane behind.”
“No,” said Ellis.
Mohammed said: “The piece of paper you have, which bears the signatures of Masud, Kamil and Azizi, is more important than the life of any one of us. It represents the future of Afghanistan—the freedom for which my son died.”
Ellis would have to go on alone, Jane realized. At least he could be saved. She was ashamed of herself for the terrible despair she felt at the thought of losing him. She should be trying to figure out how to help him, not wondering how she could keep him with her. Suddenly she had an idea. “I could divert the Russians,” she said. “I could let myself be captured. Then, after a show of reluctance, I could give Jean-Pierre all sorts of false information about which way you were headed and how you were traveling. . . . If I sent them off completely the wrong way, you might gain several days’ lead—enough to get you safely out of the country!” She became enthusiastic about the idea even while in her heart she was thinking, Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me.
Mohammed looked at Ellis. “It’s the only way, Ellis,” he said.
“Forget it,” said Ellis. “It isn’t going to happen.”
“But, Ellis—”
“It isn’t going to happen,” Ellis repeated. “Forget it.”
Mohammed shut up.
Jane said: “But what are we going to do?”
“The Russians won’t catch up with us today,” Ellis said. “We still have a lead—we got up so early this morning. We’ll stay here tonight and start early again tomorrow. Remember, it isn’t over until it’s over. Anything could happen. Somebody back in Moscow could decide that Anatoly is out of his mind and order the search called off.”
“Bullshit,” said Jane in English, but secretly she was glad, against all reason, that he had refused to go on alone.
“I have an alternative suggestion,” said Mohammed. “I will go back and divert the Russians.”
Jane’s heart leaped. Was it possible?
Ellis said: “How?”
“I will offer to be their guide and interpreter, and I will lead them south down the Nuristan Valley, away from you, to Lake Mundol.”
Jane thought of a snag, and her heart sank again. “But they must have a guide already,” she said.
“He may be a good man from the Five Lions Valley who has been forced to help the Russians against his will. In that case I will speak with him and arrange things.”
“What if he won’t help?”
Mohammed considered. “Then he is not a good man who has been forced to help them, but a traitor who willingly collaborates