A Place Far Away

by Vahan Zanoyan

  “But he’s a drsetsi,” said Ruben, literally meaning an outsider. “How involved can he get?”

  “In some ways he’s more involved than any of us,” said Avo, “but you’re right to ask, how involved should he be? I’ll talk to Gago about that.”

  They were quiet for a while, each drawn into his own thoughts.

  “Rubo, who else can we trust here, in Saralandj or Aparan?”

  “Avo, for what purpose? We can trust some people, but what is it that we’re forming this group for?”

  “We’re getting ready to fight Ayvazian,” said Avo with his characteristic way of announcing absolutes with finality. “I don’t know yet exactly how. We won’t do anything stupid, but it will be risky nonetheless. We won’t create new dangers, Rubo, as the danger is already here. We just have to fight it.”

  “Many people can help if we don’t put them in danger,” said Ruben. “The key is to keep their anonymity. People are scared, and we should be too. But we’re already in this. The others aren’t.”

  “We shouldn’t approach anyone who is scared,” said Avo, “like Artiom, for example. No need to complicate things more than they already are. Things could get messy. Let’s leave it here for now and think some more. When we know more, we can decide if we need anyone else. I was thinking of your cousin Serge, the policeman. But no need to talk to him yet. Let me talk to Gagik and Paron Edik first.”

  Avo saw Ruben out and then called Gagik.

  “Sorry to bother you so late, Gago” he said, “but we need to talk.”

  “Is it urgent?” asked Gagik.

  “Yes.”

  “I can be there in thirty minutes,” said Gagik.

  “I’ll be very grateful,” said Avo, but Gagik had hung up already.

  Avo went to their bedroom and saw his siblings each engrossed in his or her task. The room was very quiet. Sona, the second oldest sister, was absorbed in a thick novel by Raffi, one of the most prolific Armenian novelists. The boys were still busy with schoolwork. The other girls, Arpi and Alisia, were doing needlework.

  “I’m going to have a guest soon,” said Avo, approaching Alisia. “It is Gagik from Ashtarak. Come prepare a few snacks for us.”

  “He’s coming so late?” asked Alisia.

  “I like Gagik,” said Aram. “Can I join you?”

  Everyone was now paying attention. It was not often that someone visited at that hour for no specific reason.

  “He and I have to talk,” said Avo. “There is no need for anyone else to be there. Sorry, Aram.”

  “Is there a problem?” asked Sona, putting her book aside. She was the oldest one in the house now, and her tone suggested that she had a right to know.

  “No problem, kurig jan,” said Avo warmly. “We just need to talk about work. I’ll be back soon.”

  XXI

  Avo and Gagik sat by the stove for several hours. They had not touched any of the food set on the table. Avo was chain smoking, the glow from the burning stove flickering and casting mysterious shadows on his face and on the smoke coming out of his mouth and nostrils.

  It was midnight when they were ready to call Laurian. Avo had briefed Gagik on all the details, and they had agreed that events might force them to take extreme measures, even possibly violence against the Ayvazians. They had also agreed that they needed to use Laurian’s resources in Vardahovit, while keeping his personal involvement to a minimum. After Avo described to Gagik what he had seen in Sevajayr and Vardahovit, including the damning evidence in Hayk’s photos, Gagik agreed that any possible encounter with Ayvazian would probably take place in the upper villages, and not in Saralandj or Aparan. Ayvazian had many connections in Aparan, but no real base of operations. They would keep Ruben in Saralandj to keep an eye on the family, and they would go to Vardahovit.

  “Edik jan, good evening,” said Gagik when they placed the call. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

  “No, I’m up,” said Laurian. “This is the best time of the night.”

  “Edik jan, I’m here in Saralandj with Avo. We need to come up and see you.”

  “Now?” asked Laurian. All his senses went on full alert.

  “It would be best if we meet early in the morning,” said Gagik. “So we’re thinking of leaving here around five, to get there around eight. We’ll have a few hours of sleep and come over.”

  “That’s fine,” said Laurian. “How much can you tell me now?”

  “We’ll go over everything when we get there,” said Gagik. “But you had better reactivate full surveillance in the upper villages. Do you have anyone in Martashen?”

  “Yes, but not as strong as here. We can watch from a distance down there.”

  “Activate anyway,” said Gagik. “See you by eight. Get some rest, my friend, I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”

  When Avo finally went back to their bedroom, everyone was sound asleep. Only the small light near his bed was on. He took off his shoes and went to bed with his clothes on. He’d have to get up in just a few hours, wake the family to say goodbye, go to Martha’s house to alert Ruben of the plan, and leave with Gagik for Vardahovit.

  “Let me get this straight,” said Ayvazian, staring at Viktor’s exhausted and sleepy face. “Everyone was plotting something in Al Barmaka’s palace, no one knew the full intentions of anyone else, but they were cooperating at some level or another. Then the whole operation ended up with none other than Abo effendi, who spoiled everyone’s plans and handed Lara to us, thinking that we would return her to Dubai and save face, and in return we’d let him into the Dubai market. Am I right so far?”

  “Spot on,” said Viktor.

  “Is there a single plan in this whole story that hasn’t blown up in someone’s face?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Viktor and started laughing. Ayvazian was not amused, but Viktor could not control his laughter. The entire web of failed schemes and counter-schemes hit him, in his extremely tired state, as superbly comical. Ayvazian would have rudely reprimanded him had he been his normal self, but he was in no mood for outbursts. He watched his nephew hold his sides and bend over roaring with laughter, and with a stern look waited for him to calm down. When Viktor finally came to his senses, Ayvazian stared at him for a few more minutes to make sure the bouts of laughter were gone for good, and then asked: “Who’s in Sevajayr now?”

  “Lara, the other girl from Yerevan and two bodyguards; we dropped Lara off over an hour ago.”

  “Now listen carefully,” said Ayvazian. “I don’t care how tired you are. What we need to do cannot wait. I don’t think we can break Lara the normal way, by just beatings and stuff. For her, the stakes have to be higher than that. What do you know about this brother of hers, Avo, to whom she sent the money?”

  “Nothing,” said Viktor, “but we can find out. I think he’s younger than her.”

  “We need him here,” said Ayvazian. “Maybe our little beauty queen will come to her senses when she sees how she’s hurting her loved ones.”

  “I’ll send someone,” said Viktor, now beginning to imagine what his uncle had in mind, and dreading the tasks he’d have to perform in his tired physical state. He wished he could have a few hours to rest before it all began.

  “By the way,” asked Ayvazian, “how did she behave on the flights?”

  “She was fine on the flights,” said Viktor. “I made a deal with her. Drugs or good behavior. She understood and was surprisingly well behaved, even though I could tell she was scared out of her mind. She was perspiring and shaking most of the time.”

  “Good,” said Ayvazian. “I’m glad she’s scared.”

  “But when we landed in Yerevan and I got her into the car, she started acting up. She kicked Hamo so hard in the leg that he was limping.

  Then she screamed and tried to run away in the airport parking lot. That’s when we held her down and gave her a shot. She’s still asleep.”

  “Good. We’ll deal with her soon. The second thing I want to tell you
,” continued Ayvazian, “is that we need to talk to Al Barmaka directly. I don’t trust any of his staff to tell him the full story. Find out how we can talk to him.”

  “He’s in China,” complained Viktor.

  “So?” snapped Ayvazian. “Find a way to contact him.”

  “Uncle, I see your point, I really do, but Al Barmaka will not agree to talk to us directly. I know this for a fact. Remember, we need to go through the same staff that you don’t trust to get to him. That alone is a big problem.”

  “Try,” ordered Ayvazian. “Then find out who is conducting the investigation from his end.”

  Viktor spent the rest of that morning on the phone. He first placed a call to Ano in Dubai, who in turn spoke with Manoj and then got back to Viktor. Then he called some of the men on his payroll in Aparan, asking about Avo. They proved to be useless, driving Viktor to new levels of frustration and fury, because no one knew where Avo was. He had left early in the morning without telling anyone anything, or so went the story in Saralandj. His sisters told the armed men who came to their house that they were about to go and alert the police, because they were worried about their brother. Ruben had gone to the police station in Aparan and filed a report with his cousin, who was on duty at the station. Avo was missing.

  Then, just when Viktor thought he’d had his share of setbacks for the day, one of the guards in Sevajayr called with some unusual news.

  “We caught a kid taking pictures,” he said. “He has a fancy camera that I’m sure does not belong to him. He was taking pictures of the house. What do you want us to do with him?”

  “Who the hell is he?” asked Viktor.

  “He says he’s from Shatin and is visiting friends in Sevajayr. He says the camera was a gift from a rich uncle in America, but he sounded like he was making fun of us.”

  “The kid was making fun of you?” screamed Viktor at the top of his lungs. “So now you’ve all turned into clowns up there? You better get the truth from him before Ayvazian gets there!”

  “Viktor, listen, he’s barely fifteen, and he doesn’t seem scared. So maybe he’s telling the truth, you know. Everyone in Armenia has a rich relative in America these days. Why not? Maybe someone sent him the camera and he was here showing it off. No need to overreact; his family will be looking for him. I don’t think we should give the villagers any reason to wonder about us. Grabbing one of their own is totally different than bringing strangers here.”

  “You listen to me and listen well,” said Viktor. “Fuck the villagers! You have thirty minutes to break that kid, find out the truth, and call me. And if what you tell me turns out not to be the truth, you’re finished, do you understand? We’ll bury you with him right there!” With that, Viktor hung up.

  Twenty minutes earlier, Hayk’s cousin Sago, who had been keeping him company at the stakeout, frantically called Agassi to tell him that the thugs got Hayk.

  “Talk slowly, balés,” said Agassi. “What exactly happened?”

  “I was in the loft watching,” said Sago, trying to stay as calm as possible. “Hayk was coming into the barn. One of the guards saw him and yelled, ‘Boy, come here!’ When Hayk ignored him, the guard came after him and grabbed him at the entrance of the barn. He saw the camera and started yelling, calling Hayk a thief, then dragged him into the house.”

  “Just stay in the loft and watch,” said Agassi, “and stay out of sight. Keep your phone close and on silent. I’ll call you back soon.”

  Agassi ran to the main house, where Laurian was meeting with Gagik, Avo and Saro. They had word that two cars had arrived earlier that morning, dropped someone at the Sevajayr house and driven away. There was still one car parked in front of the house and they guessed there were at least two guards and possibly two captives inside, the presumption being that there must have been at least one captive inside before the new arrival; otherwise, the place wouldn’t have been guarded in the first place.

  Hayk’s capture had changed the nature of the challenge entirely. Laurian seemed to be the most upset, partly because he felt personally responsible for Hayk’s fate.

  “They won’t dare hurt him,” said Gagik, trying to comfort Laurian. “They may slap him around a bit to find out if someone’s put him up to taking pictures; but if he holds to his story, they’ll let him go.”

  “He’s seen the inside of the house,” said Laurian with an intensity of concentration that caused concern in Saro. “He may have seen more than enough for them to decide it is not safe to let him go.”

  “Sago is watching,” said Agassi. “He’ll tell us if there is any movement. I don’t think anything will happen soon; they’ll have to call Ayvazian to get orders. He will want to know details, which will take time. So we have some time to think. In the meantime, I have to tell Hayk’s father.”

  “Yes, by all means,” said Laurian, “tell Varujan; let him join us.”

  Then Laurian’s phone rang. It was Nerses from the roadside restaurant.

  “I just got word that two SUVs left Martashen,” he said. “Ayvazian is in one of them, and Viktor is in the other. Each has an armed driver, but no other passengers. Ayvazian is sitting in the front passenger seat. Viktor is asleep in the back seat.”

  “Thanks,” said Laurian. “Let us know when they pass by you.”

  Laurian turned back to his visitors, his face serious and his gaze intense and focused. “Events may force our next actions,” he said calmly. “We probably need to put aside all the conventional wisdom that we have lived by until now.”

  “You sound like you’re giving a war speech,” said Gagik with a chuckle, deliberately trying to lighten up the mood. “What’s the story?”

  “I don’t mean to sound dramatic,” said Laurian, “but in fact a war speech is what may be called for. Ayvazian and his nephew are headed this way as we speak. Hayk is being held. There are two other captives in there, one of whom could be Lara, but we’re not sure. She told Avo she’d be in Armenia this morning and that she was not free; she also specifically warned him about Ayvazian. So she could be the new arrival. The question is, what do we now do?”

  “Edik jan,” said Gagik, “I understand that the moment for decisive action is here, but it is essential that you keep a low profile. I think the local villagers should handle this. The only exception is Avo, given his family’s stake in this. Even I cannot have a high profile. You have to trust us on this.”

  Everyone was nodding in silence. Laurian thought about Gagik’s words, and realized that the old revolutionary was right. Whatever needed to be done should be done by the local villagers, and then covered up by them. External involvement would unnecessarily complicate future investigations. Once a plan was clearly set in front of them, the villagers would also act in a more coordinated way if they were left alone to implement it.

  “I agree,” he said, “but only partially. Gago, you and I are already deep into this. We can pretend to be in the sidelines, but let’s face it, we’re not. The local villagers and Avo will do what needs to be done, and they’ll be the ones giving testimony later, but we’ll plan this together. You and I will watch closely and stand ready to participate if need be. We cannot just sit here. Now, let’s plan in detail what needs to be done.”

  They did not have much time to plan every detail, nor to pretend that what they had to do could be done without bloodshed. Sergey and Viktor Ayvazian had to die. Nothing short of that could solve the problems that the Galians were facing. But two bodyguards were coming with them, and there were other guards in Sevajayr as well. What about them?

  As they started planning the operation, a cloud of hesitation crept into Laurian’s thoughts. It was not about the risks that they were about to take, even though these were considerable. It was not about fear of failure, or about all that could go wrong. With Gagik’s help, the planning of the details of the operation were on solid ground. He looked carefully at the faces of the men in his living room. Avo, Gagik and Varujan were absorbed in planning the operation. Agassi
was listening intently. Saro was listening too, but seemed to be absorbed in thoughts far beyond the moment.

  “Saro,” said Laurian, “are you okay?”

  Saro looked at Laurian for a long moment, as if trying to read his mind, and slightly shook his head. Noticing the distraction, the others stopped talking and were waiting for Saro to answer. What Saro said next shocked Laurian; he couldn’t have voiced his own hesitations and doubts more succinctly.

  “If we do this, are we better than them?” asked Saro. There was total silence in the room. Gagik gave Laurian a confused look, but Laurian was focused on Saro.

  “What do you mean?” asked Laurian, even though he knew exactly what Saro meant.

  “We’re planning to kill several people today, because some of them have harmed Avo’s family. That’s exactly what Ayvazian would have done. Are we better than him?”

  Each in his own way, the others had resolved or bypassed that question by the sheer inevitability of what they needed to do. There was no other option, which, for them, meant there was no good reason to question it.

  “Are we?” Laurian echoed Saro’s question, turning to everyone in the room. “We need to consider Saro’s question seriously before we go any further.”

  If Gagik was as frustrated as Avo with this interruption, he did not show it. He understood the importance of having everyone sign off on the entire mission, and not just on the specific operational details. They should have done that before delving into the details of the plan, and Laurian himself would probably have insisted on it had they not been so pressed for time, given the fact that Ayvazian and Viktor were on their way. But it wasn’t too late.

  “None of us has killed anyone before,” continued Laurian, “let alone murdered anyone in cold blood. And yet, here we are planning to kill several people—five? Six? It depends on how many guards are in Sevajayr. Why? Have we turned into murderers like Ayvazian? Are we after revenge? What do we want?”