Page 35 of What is Lost

He opened the green long gun case first. Nestled in foam cutouts were the various pieces of a pale-brown rifle. A black scope and a suppressorwere snugged alongside. There were also three boxes of ammunition for the rifle. Opening one, he tweezed out and inspected a shiny, pointed brass bullet before slotting the Winchester cartridge back into its box. He would need to put the rifle together and sight it in, but this was not the time or place.

“Nice piece,” Davila said. After safetying the weapon and opening the chamber, he squinted down the bore to check out the barrel. “Clean as a whistle. Looks like it’s never seen a bullet.”

Ducking his head a touch, Ustinov spread his hands. “We were quite careful about procurement.”

“Uh-huh.” Popping his Glock’s magazine, John press checked the weapon, made sure it was empty, then did a basic field strip: fiddling with the locking bar, wiggling the trigger bar, playing with the trigger to make sure it returned and didn’t stick.

“Is there a problem?” Ustinov asked.

“Nope.” There was no lube where the barrel seated, no hint of grease. After inspecting the recoil spring, John studied the barrel and, as with Davila’s AK, saw no dings or cracks. A faint odor of gun oil tickled his nose.Interesting.As he put the gun back together, he said, “But what makes Parviz think he’ll need a handgun on the road? He’s got a rifle.”

“There has been…unpleasantness along parts of the road. Not that I expect you to have trouble at this time of year, but one cannot be too careful. There are times when a rifle is too cumbersome.”

“Oh?” Davila asked as John reached for the case containing the second Glock. “What kind of trouble?”

“Bandits. You are not going into the most prosperous of regions. With the Americans gone, the Taliban can spread, but so can bandits who cross into Tajikistan and then back.”

“I thought there are Russian soldiers at the border.”

“Some, but the Taliban stay mostly on the Afghan side. The bandits cross back and forth. Many are from militias, some of whom fought against the Taliban and some who did not. Their leaders are gone, and they are…how do you say it? Dangling threads.”

“At loose ends,” John said.

“Yes, yes.” Ustinov gave an enthusiastic nod. “These men have to eat, but there are no homes or villages to which they can return without being reported to the Taliban.”

“That’s harsh.”

“It’s a harsh land, Mr. Child. Their neighbors are just as hungry as everyone else.”

“What will the Taliban do for them?” Davila asked. “In exchange for turning someone in?”

“It is more what they willnotdo. The Taliban willnotburn down your house,nottake yourwomen, kill your parents, or kidnap your children. They even might offer tobuyyour children. Girls are particularly…” Ustinov thought about the next word. “Coveted.”

John didn’t even want to think about that. He thumbed open the second gun case and took out the Glock that had been next to Parviz’s rifle. “And the boys?”

“It depends on the boy’s age. Some are forced to become soldiers. Many others are…” Ustinov’s forthright gaze skittered away from John to study the trees. “Put to different uses in various households.”

“Meaning?” Davila asked.

“I’ll tell you later.” A stone had formed in John’s gut.The more things change…Wasn’t this the part of the movie where he had come in more than two years ago? He changed the subject. “If the warlords are mostly gone, then you’re really only talking Taliban and wealthy guys doing business. What kind of business could there be in the mountains?”

Ustinov opened his mouth to answer but, at that moment, Parviz scuttled around, took a look at the open gun cases, and said something in a language filled with harsh gutturals. Sounded like Russian to John; he caught what sounded likevverkh,the word he knew meantup.Nodding, Ustinov said, “Parviz has reminded me that the day will not grow any longer.”

“Okay,” John said as the driver moved in and gestured for him and Davila to step away. Replacing the second Glock case to the right of his Mk22, he repeated his question. “What kind of business?”

“Something every country covets and can’t find in quantity,” Ustinov said as Parviz busied himself with shuffling items back and forth. “The first deposits were discovered by the Chinese in the Kunar District, at the mouth of Korangal to our south. Chinese mineralogists also found large deposits in the Wakhan andveryclose to their border.”

“So, what is it?” Davila asked.

“The locals know it astahktapat. Waste kunzite in English.”

“Which is?”

“Spodumene.” Ustinov favored them both with that flawless grin. “Lithium.”

Davila was already settledin the cargo bay when John said to Ustinov, “Wait, before we get started, you got a pencil? I like to doodle. Helps me think, but I lost mine.”

“Of course.” Ustinov patted pockets before pulling a pencil from his vest. “My pleasure.”

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