His brow damp with perspiration, Leo wiped his face, studying the approaching village. Sau was small. Whereas the village of Sokh Rot was founded in the lap of once-fertile orchards, this village had no obvious industry other than livestock, herds of goats that scattered as they neared it. For such a small village there was a large crowd in the centre, several hundred men, many times more than would normally be found in a village this size. Leo caught up with Nara and the captain.

—What do you make of that?

He pointed at the crowd. More people were arriving, travelling down from the mountain paths and across the valley. The captain surveyed the landscape, observing the crowd. Inscrutable, he remarked solemnly:

—They want to see the destruction for themselves.

Leo shook his head, pointing to the opposite side of the valley.

—Why are they crossing the valley? They can see the devastation from there. Why are they coming here?

The captain didn’t reply.

***

Uneasy, Leo climbed the last few metres, entering the centre of the village and finding himself completely surrounded.

Village of Sau

118 Kilometres East of Kabul - 7 Kilometres West of Jalalabad

Same Day

At a casual count there were no more than forty houses and yet in this small village was a crowd of men so dense that many were standing shoulder to shoulder: the centre was as busy as a market in Kabul. There were young boys, grown men, elders. More were entering the village from the mountain trails – so many that some had taken position on the higher ground, squatting on a terrace ledge, lined up like crows on a telephone wire. The village had become a pilgrimage site, drawing people from every direction. Some were carrying gifts: jugs of goat’s milk and bowls of dried fruit, nuts and berries, as though there were a religious festival or wedding taking place. The celebratory nature of the gathering should have put Captain Vashchenko at ease. However, he seemed agitated. The Spetsnaz soldiers readied their weapons, taking up defensive positions, none of them going as far as to point their guns directly at the villagers, an act of provocation from which there’d be no turning back.

Appreciating that this situation could rapidly descend into violence, Leo took the lead, raising his arms, showing that he carried no weapons. He spoke in Dari:

—I am unarmed. We’re here to talk.

He appreciated that the claim he was unarmed carried little weight considering that he was flanked by heavily armed special forces. A wall of inscrutable expressions made it impossible to judge whether or not they’d even understood. Leo’s accent was easy for an urbanite Afghan to follow, perhaps harder in rural areas. He turned to Nara.

—Speak to them. Reassure them.

Nara stepped forward, joining Leo.