The Adversary Read Online Free Page B

being torn from her body. A mother does not willingly leave her child.
    She had not even been able to say what she felt. Had not trusted her emotions. But, also, had not trusted that somehow, in this vast empty plain, they might not be observed.
    It had been a long time before the last black specks of the convoy had vanished into the pale haze of the horizon. Afterward, she had returned to her
ger
, boiled water for tea, and sat down on her stool, nothing now to do but wait.
    He would come. She was sure of that. Soon, he would come.
    That night, she lay awake, listening to the faint sounds of the spring breezes rustling through the tent frame, the occasional distant sound of a bird or a barking dog. She imagined him out there, perhaps already approaching, perhaps close at hand.
    She imagined meeting him again.
    The next morning, when her cell rang, she wasalmost certain it would be him. She was sitting outside the
ger
, her husband’s old heavyweight
del
slung over her shoulders against the early chill.
    She answered hesitantly, wondering what she would say.
    But it was not him. It was the police, again. A different policeman, more senior than the one who had visited before. No, they had nothing more to report. But, yes, he would like to meet her, hear her story for himself.
    She agreed to a time later in the week, not taking in what the emollient voice was saying. She did not fool herself that the call had any significance. It was the publicity, she thought. In that sense, at least, her plan was working. She was getting her story out there. She was getting it noticed.
    Perhaps that would help to keep him away. Or perhaps it would bring him sooner. She was no longer sure which she preferred.
    He came the next day. When he appeared, it was hardly a surprise to her and she realized that she had forgotten to be afraid.
    He was alone. She had somehow imagined him arriving with an entourage, the center of everyone’s attention, because that was how she remembered him.
    But of course he was alone. He parked his truck carefully, yards away from the remaining cluster of
gers
, and walked slowly across the scrubby grassland to where she was sitting. The morning sun was behind him, and he was little more than a silhouette, but she fancied she could see the empty depths of his eyes.
    She remained seated almost until he reached her. Then she rose and slowly made her way into the tent,feeling his presence close behind her.
    The discussion went as she had expected. He did not stop to question what she might or might not know. He did not bother with explanations. He did not attempt to bargain or cajole. He simply told her what he wanted and waited calmly for her to agree.
    When she refused, for a moment he looked almost surprised. Then he repeated his request, quietly, in the same polite tone. The sense of threat was palpable.
    She refused again. And then she told him what she knew, or what she thought she knew. She told him what she had, and what she would do with it.
    She did not know what reaction she expected. Perhaps she had hoped that he would simply turn on his heel and walk away. Perhaps.
    But when the first blow came, she knew she had been waiting for it. She tensed just for a moment as his fist struck her cheek, and then she staggered against the wall of the tent. His second blow struck her in the chest, and she fell back, her head hitting the solid wood of the tent frame.
    She was semi-conscious, aware of an absurd disappointment that she should have succumbed so easily. She felt his foot slamming hard into her back. She thrust herself against the side of the
ger
, knowing now that at least this—all of this—would soon be over.
    But then he was leaning over her, and she saw his eyes, blank and expressionless as he pulled a cigarette lighter from his pocket.
    And she realized that it was all only just beginning.
    *
    â€œIt’s a new one. Really moves when you put your foot down.”
    Doripalam didn’t