“I’m sorry for the delay,” she said. “But, so far, that’s it. I’m working through a jet charter service to arrange an earlier flight, but I’m worried about attracting too much attention when you get to Taraz. Maybe we can get you in late at night.”

Sam said, “We’ve just about decided to hire a car to drive us there. It’s just another six hundred miles. That’s two days.”

“See who you can find,” she said. “Just don’t hire someone who will drive you into the wilderness and then cut your throats.”

“We try not to,” said Remi. “We check their knives for stains.”

“We’ll see what our hotel’s concierge can do for us,” Sam said. “If that doesn’t work, Thursday always comes.”

“Very stoic,” said Selma. “Good luck. I’ll be working on the plane. And I’ll get new cell phones delivered to you at the hotel right away.”

It took Sam and Remi an hour to work with the concierge at the Worldhotel Saltanat Almaty to find a driver. His name was Nurin Temirzhan, and the concierge said he was twenty-three years old and eager for the job of driving to Taraz. But like most Kazakhs, he spoke no English.

Sam said to the concierge, “Are you sure he understands what we want him to do?”

“Yes, sir. My English may not be perfect, but my Kazakh is impeccable. He will drive you to Taraz and wait for you to come back here for up to one week. If he waits longer, he will prorate your bill by one-seventh per day.”

“And the pay has been agreed to?”

“Yes, sir. Seven hundred, American, for the week.” The concierge looked a little uneasy.

Sam smiled reassuringly and leaned closer to him. “Is there something that is still worrying you?” He paused. “If you will tell me, I won’t blame you for it.”

“Well, yes, sir. There have been several recent incidents in Taraz. Muslim fundamentalists have been shooting people, and one blew himself up. The American Peace Corps has left because of safety concerns.”

“Thank you for your honesty and your help.” Sam gave him a two-hundred-dollar tip and left his new cell number and Remi’s in case people couldn’t reach them directly for some reason.

Sam and Remi changed dollars for Kazakh tenge tenge at a bank, then went out in Almaty and shopped. An American dollar was one hundred forty-seven tenge. They found their way to Arbat Street, where the Centralniy Universalniy Magasin sold a wide range of merchandise. They bought clothes that would not strike Kazakhs as foreign or overly expensive. They took special care that Remi’s were not formfitting or short-sleeved and that she had scarves to cover her hair, both to keep from offending Muslims and to disguise her if any of Poliakoff’s people had come here to search for them.