‘Never trusted that mutt,’ said Frazer.
‘What’s going on?’ said Amazon. ‘Where are the others? Miranda …? Bluey …?’
‘Don’t ask Boris question. Just do what Boris say. That way you stay alive, maybe. You tell me now where is old savage and stupid boy.’
Frazer, puzzled, looked around. There was no sign of the two Udege.
It was Amazon who answered. ‘They went to carry the female leopard to the rendezvous with Doolins. We tranquillized it earlier. They left us to capture the cubs and bring them down to the boat as soon as we could.’
Frazer looked at her in surprise, and was about to ask her what on earth she was talking about. He stopped himself in the nick of time.
Boris grunted. He spoke in Russian to the other two. They nodded and made off into the forest, evidently in pursuit of the Udeges.
‘Now, give small leopards,’ said Boris. ‘Then we go see your friends. All be fine.’ Boris added his usual laugh at the end of this, but there was something false about it. And that false laugh, and what it might imply, was the single most frightening thing about the experience for Amazon.
Amazon thought about running. Frazer thought about making a grab for Boris’s gun. But they both realized it would be suicide. Reluctantly, they walked towards Boris and put the leopard cubs, squirming and squealing, into the sack he held out.
‘Boris is sorry for this,’ he said, performing one of his elaborate shrugs. ‘But Boris also has orders to obey.’
Boris jabbed them in the back with his Kalashnikov and they began to trudge through the forest. Amazon felt desolate. She didn’t fully understand what was happening, but she knew that it was bad. Bad for her. Bad for the others. Bad for the leopard cubs. She faintly hoped that Dersu and Makha might have some plan to rescue them, and that was why they had disappeared. But she couldn’t blame them if they had just decided to save themselves. To them they were all outsiders – Russians, American and British alike. People who came to steal their land and destroy their culture.
Different thoughts were passing through Frazer’s mind. He had been in plenty of scrapes before. He knew how ruthless poachers could be, and that’s what he assumed Boris was – just someone out to kill the leopards to sell their bones and skins to the highest bidder. He knew that Boris would have few worries about killing them as well. And so he was waiting for a chance to turn and surprise the Russian, especially now he was alone. He assumed that Kirov wasn’t part of this – he didn’t have the look of a poacher. Perhaps Boris had already killed him.
Frazer knew he had to act soon, before they reached the others. He bent to tie his bootlace, meaning to let Boris get closer and then make a grab for the gun.
However, the second he stooped to tie the lace, he felt Boris’s big boot crash into his shoulder, leaving him sprawling on the ground.
At the same moment Boris grabbed Amazon. He pulled her down with him next to Frazer. His hot garlicky breath was in her face, and for a second she thought that he was about to kill them both then and there. She began to struggle, but then Boris spoke in an urgent whisper.
‘I have only a few seconds for this. Your lives are in deadly danger, as are those of your friends.’
‘What’s –’ began Frazer, but Boris silenced him.
‘Listen or you die. I am an agent for the Russian secret service. The man you call Kirov works for a Russian billionaire. This man owns many things, including a logging company. By using bribes and corruption and the killing of those in his way, he was about to obtain permission to cut down the trees in this region. The release of the leopards stopped this because the animals are protected by national laws, and the eyes of the world would be upon them. So it was important not only to kill the leopards here, but also to show that it was pointless to even try to reintroduce them, because of the lawlessness of the region. And so the plan was to kill the naturalists who were helping the leopards, and blame it on bandits and poachers. As soon as the attempt to bring leopards to this area is abandoned, the logging can begin.’
Frazer nodded. ‘So what can we do?’
‘The choice is yours. I go to try to rescue your friends. Either you run now and attempt to raise the alarm, or you help me. Trouble is there are two more killers with Kirov, as well as the ones who went after the Udege. If I fail, they will hunt you down. But I cannot force you to help me. Is up to you.’
Amazon and Frazer exchanged looks. ‘We’ll help,’ said Amazon decisively. ‘But what can we do?’
‘You have tranquillizer gun. You can use it to take down one of the guards. It will mean I will have a better chance with the others.’
‘You’re sure about this?’ Frazer said to Amazon.
She nodded. ‘Let’s do it.’
Ten minutes later Boris shoved the two children into a forest clearing. Their hands were tied – or appeared to be tied – behind their backs.
Boris the Dog trotted alongside, sniffing and drooling at every tree without a care.
What the children saw there in the clearing shocked them both to the core. Bluey and Miranda Coverdale were lying awkwardly, their hands and feet bound together. They were both gagged.
Bluey was almost unrecognizable, so battered and bloodied was his face. His eyes were closed. Miranda was very far from the well-groomed and serious person Amazon had first met only a few days before. Her hair hung in ragged tangles across her face, and her clothing was torn and filthy.
Two armed guards, one sitting, one standing, were close to them. Kirov stood quietly by, his face bearing a placid smile.
Boris spoke to him in Russian, and he gave Frazer another shove.
To Amazon’s surprise, Kirov answered not in Russian, but in English.
‘Ah, Boris, how good to see you.’
Boris’s face also registered surprise. And then something in Kirov’s tone obviously alerted him to the fact that the game was up. He tried to raise his rifle, but it was too late. Kirov had already drawn his Russian Special Forces issue semi-automatic pistol from a holster under his armpit, and with it he shot the giant calmly in the chest.
Boris dropped his rifle, staggered and pawed at the neat hole in his jacket.
Frazer yelled, ‘Noooooo!’
At the same moment, Amazon pulled out the X-Ark, which she’d been clutching behind her back.
She bent to one knee – the perfect stable platform to get in her shot – and aimed for Kirov’s neck. One of the guards lunged towards her, but Frazer hurled himself in the way. The guard cuffed him aside, but it gave Amazon the second she needed to get her shot in, and the dart, with its double dose of tranquillizer sped unerringly towards its target.
But another projectile was heading for Kirov’s throat. It had finally sunk into the dull brain of Boris the Dog that something bad was happening to his master. He did not understand the nature of guns, and so found no reason not to hurl himself at Kirov, teeth bared, drool flying. Kirov put up his arm in a reflexive gesture, but there was no need: Amazon’s well-aimed dart sank into the back of the dog’s thick skull, and he hit the ground already unconscious.
There was no time for another shot. One of the guards gave Amazon a vicious backhanded slap across the face, and twisted the gun from her hands.
Boris, who still had not fallen, made a desperate lunge at Kirov, but he was moving like a drunk man. Kirov permitted him to take a couple of unsteady steps in his direction, and then calmly sent another bullet into his chest.
This time the shot knocked Boris from his feet into an ungainly, almost comical sitting position. The look on his grizzled face was more one of amazement than pain. Then he slumped backwards, and lay on the leaf-strewn ground, staring up into the branches of the trees that ringed the clearing. A ghastly gurgling sound emerged from his mouth.
Kirov chuckled and stood over him. He gave him a kick, and, satisfied that there was no fight left in the big man, put the pistol back in its holster. Then he reached into his jacket and took out a folding pocket-knife. He bent and use
d the knife to cut the fabric of Boris’s jacket collar. A small object, about the size of a shirt button, appeared in his palm.
‘Microphone, old friend,’ he said, and gave Boris an affectionate Russian slap on the cheek. ‘You are not the only one trained in the methods of the good old KGB. I heard every word. But it only served to confirm my suspicions.’
Boris tried to speak, but could manage nothing more than incomprehensible, barely human sounds.
Amazon moved to help him, but a guard’s powerful hand grabbed her. She twisted and fought to free herself from the grip, and bit at the hand that held her, but the guard was strong and he knew what he was doing. Amazon gave up the struggle.
Kirov barked an order, and the guards tied the children’s hands behind their backs – properly, this time – and forced them to kneel.
A final straining sound came from Boris, as if he had something of vital importance to say.
And then silence.
The sack with the squirming cubs lay by his side.
Amazon found that she was crying.
Kirov watched Boris die with a sort of curious indifference, and then he turned to the children.
‘So, you know the truth. I do not begrudge that a person should have knowledge of the reason for which they die. When I was in the KGB we always convinced those whom we were to execute that it was for the good of the Soviet Union, and of mankind, and therefore of themselves. Such knowledge can be a comfort.’
‘You don’t have to do this,’ said Amazon through her tears. ‘You’ve got the leopards. You could just let us go …’
‘Don’t waste your breath,’ said Frazer bitterly. He could see that there was no way this man would let them live.
Kirov smiled, not unsympathetically.
‘My dear child, I honestly wish that I could let you go. I get no joy from killing you. However, my employer does not like loose ends. And two children with the knowledge that you have, not to mention your friends here –’ he gestured with his thumb towards Miranda and Bluey – ‘would certainly be considered loose ends.’
Frazer had begun to despair. But now he heard something that at first puzzled him, and then gave him a shred of hope. He was still wearing his backpack, and from deep within it he heard the faintest of blips. A couple of seconds later it was followed by another – still faint, but definitely louder. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make him want to keep Kirov talking for a little longer.
‘Is all this really just about logging rights?’ he asked.
‘Just logging rights? Have you any idea how much all of these fine ancient larch and pine trees are worth? Millions of dollars. But, no, you are quite correct. It is not simply the timber. My employer is a man who sees all things as connected. And nothing is wasted. These cubs here, for example, will, in time, serve my employer’s – how do you say it? – hobby.’
Another blip. Louder, definitely louder.
‘Hobby? What are you talking about?’
‘You are not the only ones with a love of wild things. My employer has a large reserve for rare and endangered animals.’
Frazer was baffled. This didn’t seem to make sense. But at least Kirov was still talking.
‘You mean he breeds them … to release back into the wild?’
‘Breed? Release? Oh no, you quite misunderstand. He hunts them. The rarer the creature, the more intense the thrill of the chase.’
Another blip. Loud enough for Frazer to worry that Kirov might hear it too.
‘What do you have?’ he asked hurriedly.
‘White rhinos, Arabian oryx, Bengal tigers … Mr Kaggs, er, I mean my employer, has shot them all. And these little fellows here will grow up to be fine trophies.’
‘You are the animals,’ spat Amazon.
Frazer would have kicked her if he’d been close enough. The last thing he wanted now was to anger Kirov. They had to keep him talking.
Blip.
‘Of course,’ replied Kirov with placid amusement. ‘We are animals. You, me, my employer. Members of the species Homo sapiens. Descended from the apes. And immortality is a gift denied to all the members of the animal kingdom.’ He sniffed at the air. The smell of smoke was now ever present. ‘And it seems that our time is limited. Once again, my apologies.’
He cocked the pistol, raised it and Amazon stared down the barrel, unable to believe the inevitable truth that her life was about to end.
Kirov paused, his finger on the trigger.
‘What is that noise?’ he enquired. The beeps had become an almost constant sound now.
In a flash Amazon realized the significance of the beeps: the radio tracking device! Something was coming. Something that might kill them horribly.
Or possibly save them.
Frazer was about to say something – anything – to drag the conversation out, but he stopped, dumbfounded.
On the edge of the clearing he saw a figure. But it was difficult to see clearly. The day was growing darker now, both with the gathering dusk and the smoke coming from the fire. The figure looked like Makha, the old Udege. But it was a Makha strangely transformed. He seemed taller and younger, yet also less solid, like a figure in a dream.
He stood with his arms outstretched, the smoke swirling around him, the forked staff held in his right hand. And he was singing that strange, nasal song. As before, the sound made the hairs on the back of Frazer’s neck stand up.
The Russians heard it too, and all turned to face the new arrival. Kirov’s mouth fell open. But he was not a man to remain stunned for long. He trained the pistol on the smoke-wreathed figure, and fired off three shots.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Somehow he managed to miss, or so it appeared, as the Udege continued his song uninterrupted. Kirov checked his weapon, cocked it and fired again, more hurriedly this time.
Bangbangbangbang.
Frazer couldn’t be sure, but he thought that the old man, who now appeared ageless, smiled.
And then he was no longer standing there at the border between the clearing and the thick, mysterious forest.
Where had he gone? How had he vanished?
There was no time, however, to wonder over this. The space once filled by Makha was now ablaze with living fire: not the burning forest, but the great tiger, Amba, who leapt into the clearing with a snarl like the ripping of the very fabric of the universe.
The Russian guards fired wildly, screamed and fled away into the forest, leaving their guns behind them.
Kirov, made of sterner stuff, fired again and again at the tiger with his pistol. The retorts only succeeded in attracting the attention of Amba. The tiger, who had begun to chase the guards into the forest, turned and began to move towards Kirov, still snarling out his rage.
Kirov pulled the trigger again, with the tiger only a few metres away, but this time there was nothing but a sharp click, indicating that the pistol’s twelve-round magazine was empty.
Finally, realizing his peril, Kirov hurled his now useless weapon at the tiger and turned to follow his comrades. The tiger leapt after him, and both disappeared into the depth of the forest.
Seconds later, Frazer and Amazon heard a terrified scream, choked off into silence.
‘Are you OK?’ Frazer called to Amazon.
She was shaking, cold and in shock, but she managed to nod her head. Yet she knew that they were still in deadly danger. The tiger was on the loose, and the fire was getting ever closer, and their hands were all still bound.
And then, emerging at the spot previously occupied by Makha, another, slighter figure appeared.
‘Dersu!’ cried Amazon. ‘I knew you’d come. You brought the tiger here, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, that was my grandfather’s plan,’ he replied, moving quickly to cut through the ropes tying their wrists. ‘We led the two Russians deep into the forest, where they became lost. I do not think that we will meet with them again … And then we drew Amba here. First I ran before Amba,
and then I climbed a tree while my grandfather led him the rest of the way.’
‘But your grandfather … he was here … and then … he wasn’t.’
‘Please tell me exactly what you saw,’ Dersu said quietly, but with an intense emotion, impossible to miss.
‘Sure,’ said Frazer, picking up the discarded X-Ark. ‘But first let me reload this baby. I don’t fancy being the dessert course for that tiger.’
And then Amazon and Frazer together tried to explain what they had seen, although suddenly it seemed insane to them both.
Dersu shook his head, as if he were denying something. Amazon thought she saw a tear glisten in the corner of his eye, although that may have been because of the smoke.
‘I think that my grandfather has gone,’ he said, his voice flat and toneless. ‘There was the fire … He could not have escaped.’
‘But what we saw …?’
‘I do not know. Perhaps it was a trick of the smoke, of the fire. Or perhaps it was my father,’ he said simply. ‘I mean, that he came to help my grandfather. And now they have returned together to the Great Spirit.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Amazon.
‘It was his time. He had lived for long enough. He wanted to be again with my father in the spirit world, and my father came to meet him.’
Frazer put his hand on the older boy’s shoulder. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked.
Dersu nodded, wiped his eyes with his sleeve, and said: ‘Now we must help your friends …’
It was only then that Amazon remembered Miranda and Bluey. Dersu cut their hands and wrists free, while Amazon undid the gags. Bluey was groggy from the beating he’d taken, and Miranda’s eyes were still wild. But she soon recovered her coolness.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Boris told me about the plot as soon as we were on our own. He said he did not know who he could trust. He even suspected Doolins. But then Kirov showed up with those other Russians. They’d been lying in wait for us in the forest. They’d already beaten up poor Bluey. They only kept us alive so that we could use the radio tracking equipment to find the leopards.’