—If they breathe air why do they live in the water?

Leo paused, remembering conservations like this with Elena when she was young. She was fascinated by the world, always asking for information. The endless questions, parodied by her sister, were a display of intimacy and trust as much as they were about curiosity. The same was true with Zabi – she was reaching out to him at the same time as she was reaching out to the concept of this new world. Yet this new world would be one without his daughters. If he left Pakistan as a traitor, he would never see Elena and Zoya again. He found the notion impossible to accept, as impossible as the idea that he would never solve the murd of his wife. But the truth was that to return to the Soviet Union, as a known defector, would result in his execution. Even more troubling, there was a possibility both daughters would be punished if it were ever found out that he’d fled the country. Their safety depended upon the presumption that Leo had been killed in the air strikes or executed by the mujahedin. Secrecy was of paramount importance. He wouldn’t be able to write to them. He wouldn’t be able to call. If he fell sick, he would be alone. If they fell sick, he would not be able to sit by their side.

In a sombre frame of mind he failed to answer Zabi’s question, standing up. She squeezed his hand.

—Tell me more about the sea.

Leo shook his head.

—That’s enough for now.

He stroked back her hair. Zabi asked:

—Have you been to America?

—I tried to go there once but I didn’t make it.

—Will we make it?

—We have a good chance.

Zabi heard his uncertainty. She took Nara’s hand.

— And even if we don’t, you’ll stay with me? Nara nodded.

—I will never leave you, no matter what happens. I promise.

There was no uncertainty in her voice. Nara would die for this girl. Leo hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Next Day

Leo waited by the window, watching the street below. Behind him, Zabi and Nara were asleep. Though he wanted to let them rest he was profoundly anxious. Ten hours had passed since Fahad left the guest lodge. In a few hours it would be morning and there had been no word. The option open to them if Fahad should fail was to strike out for the American Embassy on their own, to try and reach Islamabad and make their case for asylum without the Pakistani intelligence service acting as a broker. Aside from the logistical challenges of the journey, Leo wasn’t convinced that the deal could be made without Pakistani approval. The only other choice was to run.