"Who wants to know?"It had been Ivan at the end of the row of four heads that had spoken.
"Her grandfather." Was all I said, but it was enough.
No one would say anything now for fear of revealing too much of their part in what had happened. I got a stick and rigged it in the sand so that the canteen hung upside down from it. I then cracked the lid and the water inside began to slowly drip out onto the sand. There was a collective moan from all them, as they watched the water run away. I went back to my spot in the shade and waited. It didn't take long.
"I'll talk! I'll tell you where she is; just let me have a drink!"
It was the youngest of them that had broken first, even as the others were roundly cursing him out now for it.
I went to him and spread out a map of Siberia, "Show me."
I followed his directions with my finger. Somehow I doubted the spot he was indicating. It was too close to inhabited areas for the type of hell hole prison I was looking for. I pulled out my cell and called Chantry, even as I watched the young man's face blanch with fear. Oh he had lied to me all right, but I waited for Chantry to confirm it.
I hung up.
"No water for you." The young man started sniveling like a crying baby.
An older man spoke up, "I'll show you the first time."
I glanced at the speaker. This one was more calculating.
He spoke again, "I'll tell you, if you let me go. I don't care about the others."
I moved over to him and blocked out the sun for a moment so that he could meet my eyes with his. "Do you think that it is because you are in America that you plea bargain with me? This land may be part of America, but once it was the land of the Apache, the Kiowa, and many others. You Russians think you have the market cornered, when it comes to savage intimidation practices, but it was not always so. If you'd come to this land but 170 years ago you would have learned, what the meaning of true savagery was all about, from experts. My ancestors didn't torture for the sake of causing pain like you however. They tortured in order to see how brave a man was so that they might know whether or not to respect him. How brave are you? Want to find out?"
The calculated look of guile had fled from the man's eyes and he quickly directed me to a spot on the map. The spot he chose seemed more like it and minutes later I confirmed it was Chantry. I went to the canteen and removed it from its pedestal. I held it, as the Russian drank what was left of it. Pulling it away empty I tossed it into the desert.