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experimentally. “But that appears to be solid enough.” He switched his attention to the wall and banged the butt of his flashlight against the stone surface in a few areas.
    Some of the flashlight’s thumps sounded hollow.
    “Let me see your canteen, please.”
    Unslinging the canteen from his shoulder, Lourds passed it over.
    Taking his time, Boris poured water along the wall at shoulder height, then watched it run down the stone. As the water ran along the surface, it unveiled a horizontal groove that hadn’t been visible to the naked eye. Two other lines ran vertically on either side of the horizontal line.
    “Look.” Boris could scarcely speak.
    “I see it.” Lourds’s pulse beat at his temples, and he couldn’t help smiling. This was what he lived for.
    Boris stuck out his hand. “Could I borrow your knife?”
    Gently inserting the blade into the horizontal gap, Boris pried at the crack, slowly opening it. A whole section of the wall popped out, leaving an opening three feet across and three feet tall.
    For a moment, Boris froze. “Me first?”
    “It’s your discovery.” Lourds gestured the man forward. “I’ll gladly follow you into the promised land.”
    Lourds gestured with the flashlight. “Are you going to go? Or do you want me to take the lead?”
    “I’m going. I’m going.” Diligently, Boris surveyed the tunnel again. “Why couldn’t they have made this big enough for a grown man?”
    “Because it’s supposed to be hidden.”
    Footsteps scraped the stone floor behind Lourds. He turned swiftly and shined his flashlight toward the center of the cave.
    Six men dressed in dark desert clothing that looked black in the shadows stood behind them. The men looked hard and worn. They carried packs over their shoulders and rifles in their hands. Three of them carried small oil lanterns, and Lourds realized that he hadn’t seen their light because he’d been blinded by his own.
    “You see, Ghairat, I told you I heard someone inside the caves.”
    One of the men dropped his pack, and all the other men did too. “Get your hands up.” He gestured with the AK-47 he held. “Get your hands up or I will shoot you.” He spoke in broken Russian.
    “Boris...” Lourds elevated his hands.
    Awkwardly, Boris clambered back out of the tunnel.
    “Are you spying on us, Russian dogs?” Ghairat strode forward with more confidence.
    Lourds cleared his throat. “No.”
    “Then what are you doing here?”
    “We are archeologists.”
    One of the men snorted derisively. “More of the dirt diggers. I say we kill them now and be done with it.” He spoke in the Turkmen language, which Lourds knew well enough to understand.
    “Young fool.” Another man cuffed the speaker on the head. “If we kill them, the other dirt diggers will start looking for who killed them.”
    “If we don’t kill them, they will tell others they have seen us. They will come into the cave and find the opium we have stored here.”
    The leader, Ghairat, turned to the young man. “Close your mouth.”
    The young man bowed his head in obedience.
    “It is a simple solution.” Ghairat grinned. “We will kill them here, then stuff them in that convenient hole in the wall they found.” He raised his rifle.
    Lourds grunted at Boris under his breath, “The tunnel. Now!”
    Boris didn’t hesitate. He threw himself into the tunnel like a mouse returning to its home ahead of the cat. Lourds dropped as well, expecting to feel a bullet between his shoulder blades at any second.
    Ghairat opened fire, but the bullets slapped against the wall Lourds had stood in front of, then tracked down. For a moment, the camel hump-shaped stalagmites offered protection from the bullets, but Lourds knew that was fleeting at best. The men were already jockeying for new firing positions.
    One of the ricochets caught a man and knocked him down.
    “Brothers! Help me! I am shot!”
    Ghairat stopped firing and screamed in frustration. “Get them!”
    Lourds