Chapter 3

As I carefully made my way to the outskirts Vladikavkaz there was silence in the truck. Isidora clung to my arm, still quivering, pale, and visibly shaken from our close brush with death. Badra was deep in contemplation. She'd done what she felt she had to do, but it was obvious that she was having difficulty reconciling herself to the fact that she has just killed two men, both of them her fellow Chechens.

Once clear of Vladikavkaz, I pulled off at a small roadside monument, a tribute to some long-forgotten battle. I reached over into the back seat to retrieve the handheld GPS ¹ unit I'd brought in my carry-on luggage. My plan was to navigate back roads using the GPS and the small-scale Russian maps that Badra had found for me. As I punched buttons on the GPS, Isidora turned to me.

"Where will we go?" She spoke in English. Her voice was tiny and she sounded like a lost child.

"I'm trying to find a way to get us across the border to Georgia. We'll take back roads or jeep tracks and maybe we won't run into any more trouble."

Badra sitting in the back heard our conversation but she understood no English. She sounded like her old self when she spoke.

"What are you two jabbering about? Speak a language I can understand."

I turned to Badra and responded in my weak Chechen. "Isidora wants to know where we're going, and I told her that we'll try to get across the border to Georgia."

Isidora's eyes grew large. "When did you learn to speak Chechen?"

"I speak Russian, and I spoke a little Chechen when we met. I've been talking pretty much non-stop to Badra for the past week, so I've learned a lot." I should have given more thought to how I phrased this answer.

"You understood Chechen and you spoke English to me?" Some fire had come back into Isidora's eyes and her voice was squeaky.

"Only a little. Your English was probably better than my Chechen, so I thought it was best to speak English. There were other reasons too." I left those reasons unspoken.

Isidora crossed her arms in front of her chest and sat back in her seat with an angry look on her face. She spoke Chechen to me now.

"I see."

Then Badra spoke up.

"Will you two lovers quit your quarreling? We're in a dangerous situation here and we need to make a plan."

"I'm working on it." I responded. "I just have to let the GPS lock on so I can see exactly where we are, then we can use the maps to find the best way to cross into Georgia."

Badra thought otherwise. "We shouldn't try to cross the border here. Everyone, the Russians and the Chechens will be on the alert. It might be best to wait and then cross in an entirely different area."

"I don't think it would be a good idea to try to go back to Grozny. We'd have to cross all the Russian checkpoints again, and I'm not sure if I could pull it off with two prostitutes in the truck." I had thought Badra was suggesting that we return to her apartment in Grozny.

When Isidora heard the word prostitute, her ears pricked up. She totally misunderstood my attempt at humor.

"Prostitutes? What prostitutes? Is Badra your whore? Do you think I will be?"

"No." Badra tried to calm her. "We just had to put on a little act to pass the checkpoints leaving Grozny. Trent has never laid a finger on me. We are simply partners in your rescue."

Isidora accepted this explanation, but she was still angry.

"Well, I won't be your whore either." She sulked and then moved as far away from me as she could and still remain seated in the truck. Isidora had had a very hard day, and given her quick temper, I could understand why she might be a little testy.

I could see Badra roll her eyes in the rear view mirror, but she had other more important things on her mind.

"I have a sister who lives in Malgobek ². It's less than an hour to the north. It's the last direction anyone would be looking for us."

I thought for a minute, and then decided that Badra, as usual, was right. "OK, Malgobek. How do we get there?"

For once Badra let me down. "I don't know. I always took the bus. It's north, just go north. We'll find it."

I sighed and pointed to the bag that held the map set. Badra handed it to me and I placed it in Isidora's lap. Isidora gave me a petulant look, and I could tell that she was still upset. I ignored her and dug out the maps that covered the area and soon located Malgobek. We could be there in 45 minutes.

The map said that Malgobek is a city of about 35,000, and I knew that it's center for about a dozen U.N. refugee camps for dislocated Chechens. It hasn't seen any destruction like Grozny.

Badra's sister lived in a well maintained home in a residential area on the edge of the town. A solid concrete wall with substantial wrought iron gates surrounded the house and property. There was a large and well-tended ornamental and vegetable garden in the back. It was a hell of a lot nicer than most of the other houses I'd seen in Chechnya. All the more exceptional, it was in a part of the world where there aren't that many houses to begin with. Except for farming villages, most people lived in stark concrete apartment buildings. When I questioned Badra, she explained.

"My brother-in-law's father was a big Communist and big Communists got big houses. When Communism fell he became a big capitalist and got even richer." There was a disdainful tone to her voice.

"He died four years ago, and my sister and her husband got his house. We thought it was lucky, but it turned out to be the opposite. Two years ago a criminal gang tried to kidnap my brother-in-law. They wanted to hold him for ransom. They thought he must be rich because he lived in a big house. The fools tried to take him from a public bus, and the other passengers resisted. The criminals threw a hand grenade into the bus and ran. My brother-in-law was killed along with four other innocent people." ³

"I'm sorry Badra. It's a sad thing." was all I could think to say.

"Yes, it was a sad thing, but it helped me today. The criminals were never caught. The two men I killed this morning could have been them. I told myself they were and now I am at peace. Revenge you know. An eye for an eye." She had a tear in her eye, but she wiped it away and quickly she was her normal self.

Badra had called ahead, so her sister was expecting us. The large iron gate swung open as we pulled up, and I eased forward to park in an empty garage beside the house. When the garage was closed and locked, the truck was completely concealed from external view. With the gates to the house closed, no one could see inside the property. We would be safe from detection for as long as we wanted. We left the weapons concealed in the truck.

Badra's sister Salma was a junior version of Badra. She was dark haired and slender and maybe three years younger. She was a widow but she was upbeat and didn't seem as serious as Badra. Her two young sons probably kept her too busy for much introspection. They were four and six, and they were curious, full of questions, and active, never stopping in one place for more than a few seconds. Her sister greeted Badra warmly, but the two boys tried to climb her like she was a tree. Isidora and I were introduced as Badra's American friend and his fiancée. Isidora blushed at that. Salma, Badra, and Isidora immediately began to gossip, trading all sorts of womanly information. I soon found myself cut out of the rapid-fire conversation but I didn't mind. It was late in the afternoon, and the events of the day were starting to catch up to me. I asked if I could shower, and was shown to the small bathroom. I was pleasantly surprised to find hot water. Clean clothes were laid out for me afterward. They must have belonged to Salma's husband. I changed and lay back on the small living room couch listening to the steady sound of women's gossip. The tension of the past days drained away, and soon I was fast asleep.

What seemed only moments later I was awakened by a blow to my chest. Small voices screamed. "Come. Eat. Come, American let's eat." Salma's sons were taking turns jumping on me. When they saw my eyes open, they shouted with glee and dragged me by the hand to the kitchen.

After the meal, Isidora caught my eye and gave me a little smile, the first I had seen since long ago when I was her prisoner. She took my hand.

"Come, walk with me in the garden."

The spring air was clear and cool, and the garden was just beginning to show signs of life, but it was a still and pleasant evening. We walked quietly for a while and then Isidora spoke.

"After you left, I thought I would die. I did not eat. I could not sleep. I was insane with grief. I had lost the two men in my life that I loved the most."

"Isidora I had no choice..." She cut me off.

"Shhhh. I've thought about it for a long time. I can't be happy about the things that have happened, but I can't hate you. I love you, and I accept the way things are. I will never hold the past against you." She turned and looked up at me and I bent to give her a kiss, but she turned her lips away.

"There is more. Some things happened that you don't know about."

"What things?" I asked.

"After you were gone, my brothers were cruel to me. They called me little whore and worse. They watched me everywhere I went. I was kept almost as a prisoner."

"Isidora, I'm so sorry. They'll never hurt you again." I tried to hold her, but again she fended me off.

"Trent, my brothers hurt me in a way that can not be fixed. They raped me." Her eyes were wild and tears were beginning to flow.

"They came one night drunk. At first they slapped me and called me whore, then they began to tear at my clothes. I screamed, but no one could hear. They just laughed and hit me more. Then they made me stand in front of them and undress."

"Show us how you did it for the American." They said.

"I had no choice. I took off my dress, but they wanted more. I had to remove everything and they joked and made me dance for them. Then they made me touch myself, and finally when there was no way left for me to entertain them, they opened their trousers and raped me. First one, then the other."

At this, Isidora broke down in tears and allowed me to take her in my arms. I tried to sooth her. "It's OK. It's over now, and it doesn't matter. I love you and I will always love you. That's all that counts."

"They told me that no man would ever want me. That I was a whore and would always be a whore. How can you want me?"

I tilted her face to me and looked directly into her eyes. "Isidora. I love you. I love what's inside and who you are. I love your beauty and I love your spirit. I even love your temper. I came here for you because my life was miserable without you. I will always want you."

"I'm not sure I believe you." she said, but she smiled a little smile through her tears.

We walked back to the house with our arms around each other's waist and her head on my shoulder. There were three bedrooms. Badra would sleep with her sister, the boys had their room, and Isidora and I were given our privacy in the third bedroom.

We slept together for the first time that night, but there was no sex. We climbed into bed, I held her close and gave her gentle kisses and petted her until her even breathing told me she was fast asleep. Soon I too slept.

Next morning while Isidora showered I sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee with Badra. I was concerned. Isidora was in a dangerous frame of mind and it was understandable. She was young and vulnerable, and she had seen too much violence and had too much heartbreak. I felt her slowly sinking into a mire of depression, convinced of her own worthlessness and afraid to rely on the ones she loved. I spilled my guts to Badra who listened sympathetically.

"She was raped by the brothers she hated and I killed the brother she loved. Her grandfather and most of the rest of her family are criminals who would use her just to get revenge. They all made her feel like dirt. Is it any wonder she's depressed and confused?"

Badra frowned and shook her head slowly. "Isidora's story is a sad one, but this land is full of sad stories. Families are torn apart, husbands and sons disappear. Senseless violence, murder, suicide, rape, it's too much. Some days I'm filled with such sadness that I don't want to live. It was on such a day you found me."

I was taken aback. "You? Badra, you're one of the strongest, most determined women I've ever known."

"Maybe, but sometimes even strong and determined is not enough. Sometimes existence can seem so futile. Some days I think of my husband and son and the total waste of their lives, of my life too. On those days, I get by, only by putting one foot in front of the other, by stacking stones or some other mindless labor."

I felt like an insensitive fool. All the time I'd known Badra my only thoughts had been of my problems. I'd never considered her situation. "I'm sorry Badra. I never stopped to think about the hell you've been through." I took her hand and gave a little squeeze. She looked at me and smiled.

"Hey, don't get any ideas. I'm still not giving you any sex."

We both laughed and she continued.

"I tell you how I feel, not because I want sympathy, but to show that it is possible to survive tragedy and live on. I see the love in your eyes for Isidora, and I see the same love in her eyes for you. That a love like that can exist amidst so much sorrow makes me want to live. It gives me hope. I see my young nephews, and how they are so full of life and I know the future will be better. I have hope, so I will go on and try to be happy some day."

Badra had me on the verge of tears. She sensed my discomfort and shifted conversation back to the subject of Isidora.

"I have an idea how we can help Isidora. Let me tell you about my grandmother."

"Your grandmother?"

"Yes, you see, my grandmother was a woman of many talents. She had three husbands and eight children. She was a nurse as well, a very accomplished and very smart woman. I was one of her favorites, and she taught me many things. She was the reason I became a doctor. Did I tell you that I was a doctor before all this craziness started?"

A doctor. Yes, that seemed right for Badra. Now a lot about her made sense. She continued.

"One day, when I was a much younger woman, I went to my grandmother because I was confused. I thought I was in love with a man, but I couldn't be sure. He was wild and handsome, and very experienced with women. I was still just a girl. I didn't believe he could really love only me, so I asked my grandmother for advice. She wanted to meet the man, and she did. After she met him she told me not to worry, that we would love each other forever. I asked her how she could know. Love potion is what she told me."

"Love potion? Come on Badra, that's ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? Maybe, but she made a potion and gave it to me. I drank it with my lover."

"And what happened?"

"It worked. He was the man I married, my husband. He truly loved me, and I will love him forever."

"Badra, that's a nice story, but this is the 21^st century. Love potions are for storybooks."

"Trent, Isidora loves you. In the day, with her eyes open when she's thinking logically, she knows that you love her and that she's worthy of that love. But, there is a darker part of our souls. It's a part ruled by doubt and fear, it's an irrational part. That's the part of her that's causing problems. That part may not respond to logic, but sometimes it responds to fantasy, maybe to a love potion. She wants to be convinced, my love potion will let her convince herself."

"I don't know. This all sounds too weird."

"Trust me Trent. Have I ever guided you wrong?"

I thought about it. Except for the part about being a little weak on directions, she had never steered me wrong.

"OK, we can try it. I guess we've got nothing to lose."

Badra smiled and rubbed her hands together. I wondered. Was she a doctor or a witch doctor?

That evening after dinner, Badra gave me a knowing look, and then took Isidora aside for a long walk in the garden. They talked for over an hour, and when they came back to the house Isidora had an eager look on her face. Badra gave me a secret smile and a little thumbs up. Soon Isidora was hinting that it was time for bed. The sun had barely set, but I knew what was up so I took her hand and followed her to the bedroom.

We had just begun to turn the bed down when there was a knock on the door. It was Badra and she held two large glasses half full of clear liquid. She placed them on the table next to the bed and spoke to Isidora.

"For this to have effect you and Trent must drink at the same time and you must drink the entire contents without pause." With that she turned and left, quietly closing the door behind her.

I feigned ignorance. "What was that all about?"

Isidora feigned innocence right back at me. "Just a special drink Badra has made for us. Shall we drink it as she suggested?"

She took a glass and handed the other to me. "Shall we?"

I placed my glass to my lips. Isidora did the same with hers. We drank without pause until the glasses were empty. It tasted suspiciously like straight vodka.

We set our glasses on the table and Isidora turned to me.

"Now you will love me forever." There was a hint of triumph in her voice.

"Yes, I will love you forever." I knew my line, although I wasn't acting.

I took her in my arms and gently kissed her on the lips. She responded with more passion than I had guessed could exist in her tiny body, literally attacking me, using all the kissing tricks I'd taught her. Badra sure knew how to mix one hell of a love potion. When we broke from the kiss we were both panting.

"I want to look at you, let me undress you." I breathed.

She nodded and lowered her hands to her sides. Slowly and sensuously I began to undress her: a button, then a kiss on the nape of her neck; a button then a kiss on her throat. More buttons, more kisses. I worked slowly and very, very methodically. As skin was revealed it was kissed and caressed. I barely had her blouse undone before she was quivering like a leaf. She was very good at quivering. I slid the blouse to her shoulders and she shrugged it to the floor.

She was like a porcelain doll; perfect pale skin and large dark eyes that were now flashing with pure lust. Her breasts were beautiful, full and perfectly proportioned with upturned and very erect nipples. As I stroked those nipples a little moan escaped her lips. She lifted her hands to my neck but I gently placed them back at her sides. She gave a little nod, indicating that she understood our game.

I kissed her throat and worked slowly down to the tops of her breasts, kissing one then the other. When I took a nipple into my mouth, her knees buckled. I caught her, held her steady and when she was solid on her feet again I continued. At first my kisses on her nipples and breasts were gentle, but as my passion built I became rougher, nibbling, biting and suckling with more and more intensity. Isidora was gripping her skirt with knotted fists before I relented and moved to her next item of clothing.

I fumbled to find the buttons that held the waist on her skirt. I undid them and her skirt fell to the floor. I kneeled before her and kissed her stomach and navel. She tasted good everywhere. When I pushed her slip down her legs, there she was again in her little girl panties and socks. She was still sexy in them, maybe even hotter than I had remembered. I removed her socks one at a time, stroking her arches with my fingertips as I did. Then I wasted no time sliding her panties down to her feet. She stepped out of them and stood naked and beautiful. Her fists were clenched as she struggled to play our game by remaining still.