Jane said: "They aren't going to land here, surely?"
Ellis said slowly: "I think they are. ..."
Jane started to get up, saying: "I've got to go down—"
"No!" Ellis held her shoulders, using his weight to force her down. "Wait—just wait a few seconds and see what will happen—''
"But Chantal—"
"Wait!"
She gave up the struggle, but he continued to hold her tightly. On the roofs of the houses, sleepy people were sitting up, rubbing their eyes and staring dazedly at the huge machines beating the air like giant birds above them. Ellis located Jane's house. He could see Fara, standing up and wrapping a sheet around herself. There beside her was the tiny mattress on which Chantal lay hidden by bedding.
The helicopters circled cautiously. They're aiming to land here, Ellis thought, but they're wary after the ambush at Darg.
The villagers were galvanized. Some ran out of their houses, while others ran in. Children and livestock were rounded up and herded indoors. Several people tried to flee, but one of the Hinds flew low over the pathways out of the village and forced them back.
The scene convinced the Russian commander that there was no ambush here. The troop-carrying Hip and one of the three Hinds made their ungainly descent and landed in a field. Seconds later, soldiers emerged from the Hip, jumping out of its huge belly like insects.
"It's no good," Jane cried. "I'll have to go down now."
"Listen!" said Ellis. "She's in no danger—whatever the Russians want, they're not after babies. But they might be after you."
"I must be with her—"
"Stop panicking," he shouted. "If you're with her she will be in danger. If you stay here she's safe. Don't you see? Rushing to her is the worst thing you could possibly do."
"Ellis, I can't—" "You must." "Oh, God!" She closed her eyes. "Hold me tight."
He gripped her shoulders and squeezed.
The troops encircled the little village. Only one house was outside their net: the home of the mullah, which was four or five hundred yards from the other houses, on the footpath that led up the mountainside. As Ellis noticed this, a man came scurrying out of the house. He was close enough for Ellis to see his henna-dyed beard: it was Abdullah. Three children of different sizes and a woman carrying a baby followed him out of the house and ran behind him up the mountain path.
The Russians saw him immediately. Ellis and Jane pulled the sleeping bag farther over their heads as the airborne helicopter veered away from the village and came to hover over the path. There was a burst from the machine gun low in the nose of the helicopter, and dust exploded in a neatly stitched line at Abdullah's feet. He stopped short, looking almost comical as he nearly fell over, then he turned around and ran back, waving his hands and yelling at his family to return. When they approached the house another warning burst from the machine gun prevented them from entering, and after a moment the whole family headed downhill toward the village.
Occasional shots could be heard through the oppressive beat of the rotor blades, but the soldiers appeared to be firing into the air to subdue the villagers. They were entering houses and driving out the occupants. The Hind that had rounded up the mullah and his family now began to circle the village, very low, as if looking for more strays.
"What are they going to do?" said Jane in an unsteady voice.
"I'm not sure."
"Is this a ... reprisal?"
"God forbid."
"What, then?" she persisted.
Ellis felt like saying How the fuck should I know? but instead he said: "They may be having another try at capturing Masud."
"But he never stays near the scene of a battle."
"They may hope he's getting careless, or lazy; or that he might be wounded. . . ." In truth Ellis did not know what was happening, but he feared a My Lai-style massacre.
The villagers were being herded into the courtyard of the mosque by soldiers who seemed to be treating them roughly but not brutally.
Suddenly Jane cried: "Fara!"
"What is it?"
"What's she doing?"
Ellis located the roof of Jane's house. Fara was kneeling beside Chantal's tiny mattress, and Ellis could just see a little pink head peeping out. Chantal appeared still to be asleep. Fara would have given her a bottle at some time in the middle of the night, but although Chantal was not yet hungry the noise of the helicopters could have wakened her. Ellis hoped she would stay asleep.
He saw Fara place a cushion beside Chantal's head, then pull the sheet up over the baby's face.
"She's hiding her," said Jane. "The cushion props open the cover to let air in."
"She's a clever girl."
"I wish I was there."
Fara rumpled the sheet, then draped another sheet untidily over Chantal's body. She paused for a moment, studying the effect. From a distance the baby looked exactly like a hastily abandoned pile of bedding. Fara seemed satisfied with the illusion, for she went to the edge of the roof and descended the steps into the courtyard.
"She's leaving her," said Jane.
"Chantal is as safe as she could possibly be in the circumstances—''
"I know, I know!"
Fara was pushed into the mosque with the others. She was one of the last to go in. "All the babies are with their mothers," said Jane. "I think Fara should have taken Chantal. ..."
"No," said Ellis. "Wait. You'll see." He still did not know what would happen, but if there was going to be a massacre Chantal was safest where she was.
When everyone seemed to be within the walls of the mosque, the soldiers began to search the village again, running in and out of the houses, firing into the air. They were not short of ammunition, Ellis thought. The helicopter that had stayed in the air flew low and scanned the outskirts of the village in ever-increasing circles, as if searching.
One of the soldiers went into the courtyard of Jane's house.
Ellis felt her go rigid. "It'll be all right," he said into her ear.
The soldier entered the building. Ellis and Jane stared fixedly at the door. A few seconds later he came out and quickly ran up the outside staircase.
"Oh, God, save her," whispered Jane.
He stood on the roof, glanced at the rumpled bedding, looked around at the other nearby roofs, and returned his attention to Jane's. Fara's mattress was nearest to him: Chantal was just beyond it. He poked Fara's mattress with his toe.
Suddenly he turned away and ran down the stairs.
Ellis breathed again and looked at Jane. She was ghastly white. "I told you it would be all right," he said. She began to shake.
Ellis looked at the mosque. He could see only a part of the courtyard inside. The villagers appeared to be sitting down in rows, but there was some movement to and fro. He tried to guess what was going on in there. Were they being interrogated about Masud and his whereabouts? There were only three people down there who might know, three guerrillas who were from Banda and who had not melted into the hills with Masud yesterday: Shahazai Gul, the one with the scar; Alishan Karim, the brother of Abdullah, the mullah; and Sher Kador, the goat boy. Shahazai and Alishan were both in their forties, and could easily play the part of cowed old men. Sher Kador was only fourteen. All three could say plausibly that they knew nothing of Masud. It was fortunate that Mohammed was not here: the Russians would not have believed in his innocence so readily. The guerrillas' weapons were skillfully hidden in places where the Russians would not look: in the roof of a privy, among the leaves of a mulberry tree, deep in a hole in the riverbank.
"Oh, look!" Jane gasped. "The man in front of the mosque!"
Ellis looked. "The Russian officer in the peaked hat?"