—The attack on the village of Sokh Rot was a terrible mistake. It does not represent the regime’s intentions. We wish to discuss how to rebuild this area. We want to replant the orchards and clean the soil. We want fruit to grow in those fields once more. We are here to listen to you. We wish to work with you, at your direction.

She spoke earnestly, with genuine regret at the destruction and sincere desire to rebuild the community that had been lost. Though this attempt at reconciliation was the stated purpose of their visit, the captain’s thoughts were clearly elsewhere. He was looking right and left, preoccupied, not asking for a translation and not giving any instructions of his own.

Among the crowd an animated discussion broke out, a pocket of noisy disagreement. Voices were raised, arguments overlapped. The discussion faded as suddenly as it had flared and the crowd returned to its state of silence. Taking a chance Leo moved towards the point where the debate had erupted. Studying the faces of the various villagers, he stopped beside an elderly man with an astounding fire-red beard. Defiance as bright as his beard blazed in his eyes. Fiercely proud, the man was dperate to speak, wanting to make a statement. It took an effort for him to remain silent. Leo suspected the smallest action would be enough to provoke him.

—The attack on Sokh Rot was an outrage. Help us. Advise us. How can we make it right?

As expected, the man could not hold his tongue. He pointed to the scarred landscape where the village had once stood.

—Help you? Here is how we will help you. We will defeat you. We will drive you from this land. And you will thank us for it for you do not belong here. You have powerful weapons. But no weapon built by man compares to the power of Allah. His love will protect us. We have been shown a sign that this is true.

The crowd reacted strongly. Men cried out for him to be quiet. Leo asked:

—What sign?

There were more calls for him to be silent but the old man was keen to speak.

—A child survives! A miracle boy! Look at all these people that have come to see the miracle! See how it inspires them. Leave our village. We do not want your help. We will rebuild our country without you!

Several in the crowd echoed his cry.

—Leave!

Parts of the crowd came alive, some clapping and cheering, while the more prudent creased their faces in irritation, shouting for the impetuous to be silent. Leo was quick to follow up.

—A survivor? A boy?

The old man was being escorted away from Leo. As he tried to follow, other men stepped in his path, blocking his way.

Captain Vashchenko pushed through the crowd, wanting to know more.

—What’s going on?

Leo explained: