They kissed after she had gotten out.Idly, with nothing better to do, I pondered them. Random thoughts. Was she his wife? Did they love each other? What secrets did they keep from each other? What lies was their relationship built on?Bastards.I hated them without knowing them.I was trying to decide where to go. What to do. I was now out of a job. I had money in the bank, but I didn't know how long it would last.Oh, and the big one, did I want to chance going back for my stuff?Going back for it meant that I would risk seeing - them - again. I suppose, if I had have thought about it, the thing I feared the most was more them seeing me again.I wasn't sure what I really thought about them anymore - me, them, us. To be totally honest, I was quite angry with them. Well, I was a lot of things, particularly when it came to Amy and my brother, but at the moment, anger seemed to be number one on the list. How dare they come back? First, they ask me to 'give them space', and then they make a. As I stood, I noticed that my shirt felt damp, then the world went black.I was feeling pretty sleepy, but someone kept pushing on my sore ribs. It hurt and painfully I was dragged back to consciousness. I was on a cot in a dimly lit room. In the next room I could hear men's voices. They were speaking in Chechen. I had been trained to speak Russian in a military language school and there's enough shared vocabulary so that I can muddle by in Chechen. They were talking about the ambush and the hostage. I guessed the hostage must be me.Just then I felt another prod in my ribs. I let out a little groan and turned to see who was tormenting me. It was a girl. She looked to be about thirteen, but it was hard to tell for sure. She was slender, almost skinny, with dark hair and dark eyes. When she saw that I was looking at her she spoke."So, you are awake American man." Her English was heavily accented but understandable.I decided it would be a little trite and probably useless to ask where I.
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