Page 100 of Close Pursuit

“The CIA informant—that’s this guy here—and your brother are no surprise. But who’s this guy?” He pointed at a name on her paper.

“The Russian?” she asked.

“Probably not Russian. Shishani is a common Chechen surname. So are these three. What do you want to bet they were traveling together?”

“Makes sense.”

He stared at her hard, his mind obviously working in overdrive. Indecision crossed his face but gave way to irritation. He swore under his breath and pulled out his cell phone. He chose a number and she was startled at the lengthy series of numbers his phone dialed. An overseas call, maybe?

“It’s me. Yes, I know what time it is in Moscow. No, I don’t have the D.U. list yet. I’m working on it. Who’s Yevgeny Shishani?”

Holy crap, he’d called his father. Was he so eager to find Dawn’s father and foist the baby off on the man that he would enlist his father’s aid, even knowing all the strings that came attached to it?

Her heart fell at the mention of the list of Doctors Unlimited staff and that he was still planning to steal it. He listened for a surprisingly long time to his father’s answer to who Shishani was, though, which distracted her. What was his father telling him?

“Thanks,” Alex said reluctantly. “I’ll tell you why another time. Yeah. I’ll be in touch soon.”

“Well?” she demanded as soon as he disconnected the call.

“Shishani’s a Chechen mobster. Into trafficking and smuggling.”

“What’s a guy like that doing in the Karshan Valley?”

“Good question.” Alex left and returned with his laptop. “Let me see if I can find an answer.”

She dozed for the next few hours as Alex worked on the computer. It looked like he was conducting some sort of deep Web search. The third time he woke her up to have a look at her pupils and have her perform a few simple tasks like sticking her tongue out, smiling, spelling her name, and touching her nose with each hand, the expression in his eyes was grim.

“Am I dying, or have you found something?” she asked lightly.

“Samarium.”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?”

“Rare earth metal. Used in nuclear power plants, lasers, and missile casings.”

“Okay. And that’s meaningful because?”

“I found an obscure geological survey from a Chechen university reporting that samarium might be found near the surface and cheaply mined in the western end of the Hindu Kush, specifically in Zaghastan, and more specifically in the Karshan district.”

“There’s no mining operation in that area,” she responded. “Do you think people were in the Karshan Valley to scope it out?”

“They were doing more than that,” he replied grimly. “Remember that cave we hid in the night we ran?”

She nodded, frowning.

“Remember those little bore holes all over the walls?”

“I do!” she exclaimed. “Was someone looking for this samarium stuff, you think?”

“Remember that really deep shaft at the back of the cave that we threw our trash down?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Therewasa mine in the area.”

“I think locals were working it. Bringing up ore by hand and smelting it in local furnaces.”

She recalled vividly the odd smell of the place. She’d put it down to the dried yak dung the locals burned for fuel. But maybe it had been something else, entirely.

“Is samarium valuable?” she asked.

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