Jayson glanced at Layla. He could sympathize with that. “How did she get grabbed?”
“We were down near the RSA,” he said, then added, “the regional state administrative building. It’s the local militia headquarters these days. We planned on taking a few pictures and maybe talking to some people, but then antimilitia protestors showed up and started chanting. Everything was really chill and no one was causing any trouble. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal, so Anya and Mikhail headed across the street to take videos for his blog.”
Dylan paused, gazing off in the distance as some memory played through his head. He swallowed hard. “It went bad so fast,” he said brokenly. “One second, there were less than twenty antimilitia protestors chanting peacefully. The next thing I knew, the whole street in front of the RSA was flooded with people shouting at the soldiers along the front of the building. I don’t even know where they came from, but they got violent, and it wasn’t long before they started throwing things at the building. That’s when even more soldiers came out of the RSA and started hitting people with the butts of their rifles. Then it got really ugly. More protesters came running, then more soldiers.”
“You couldn’t reach Anya?” Jayson prompted when it became obvious that the teen was lost in his memories.
Dylan shook his head. “I tried. Olek did too. But there were too many people in the streets running around. By the time we got over there, Mikhail was in a fight with three militia soldiers who were trying to drag him away. Olek and I jumped in and got him free, but Anya was gone.” He held up the scarf. “All that was left was this. It must have fallen out of her hair. She loves wearing colorful things in her hair. She says it makes her feel like a bohemian.”
“Did Mikhail see her get grabbed?” Jayson asked.
Dylan nodded. “Mikhail said she was one of the first people the soldiers took, like they’d known all along that she was ethnic Ukrainian.”
“What does the militia usually do with people they arrest, especially ones they think are pro-Ukrainian?”
Dylan’s fingers tightened reflexively on the scarf. “Anything they want. There’s no one around here with the authority or power to stand up to them. They answer to no one but themselves. It’s the reason we came here in the first place, so people could see how out of control they are. They could lock her in prison for a year or ten years, or they could execute her. All without a trial or anything.”
He smacked the stone wall with the palm of his hand. “I should have been with her, dammit! But I let her talk me into staying in the background with Olek. She was worried that if the militia soldiers saw me, they’d know I was American and arrest me for being a spy. It’s my fault they grabbed her. If I’d been there—”
“Those soldiers might have killed you,” Jayson said softly as an older couple walking down the street turned to look in their direction. “And Anya would have no one looking for her.”
Dylan’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t say anything.
“So, how do you know Olek and Mikhail?” Jayson asked. Time to change the subject again before Dylan got upset and attracted too much attention.
Dylan didn’t say anything for so long, Jayson thought he might have to repeat the question.
“I’ve known Olek since my dad and I first moved to Kiev three years ago. He was actually the one who introduced me to Anya. They’ve known each other since they were little kids. They’re more like brother and sister than friends.” Dylan shook his head. “What happened to her is as hard on him as it is on me.”
“And Mikhail?” Jayson asked. “What’s his story?”
Dylan shrugged. “I never even talked to him in person until we got here, just knew him by reputation. He’s a hacker and a blogger and has definitely pissed off a lot of the militia leaders by taking videos of them roughing up the local shopkeepers for money and beating people for no reason. If he’s ever caught, he’ll probably disappear even faster than a pro-Ukrainian sympathizer. And I can guarantee you that his body would never be seen again.”
He fell silent and they both stood watching Layla, Mikhail, and Olek for a while.
“Anya is the whole reason we came here, you know,” Dylan said quietly, fingering the scarf again. “It’s not that I was oblivious to all the horrible things going on here with the militia and what they’re doing, but it was Anya who got me to do something more than just write a blog about it. That’s the kind of person she is. When everyone else is moaning and groaning about how bad things are, she’s coming up with a way to try to make it better. She’s the one who found Mikhail and got him involved, using his blog to get people back in Kiev to stop talking and start doing things. She knew how dangerous it was to come here, but she came anyway because she knew it was the only way to get people to really understand what was going on in their own backyard. More of our friends wanted to come with us, but she didn’t want to expose them to the risk, so we left in the middle of the night. Olek figured it out, of course, and followed.” He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand. “She was so worried about everyone else getting hurt, and she’s the one who got grabbed.”
“We’re going to get her back, Dylan. I promise,” Jayson told him. “We’re not leaving here without her.”
“If we can even find her.”
“We’ll find her. Like I said, Layla is very good at tracking people. All we have to do is get her close, and she’ll lead us the rest of the way to Anya.”
Dylan gave him a sidelong glance. “Layla is special, isn’t she?”
Besides the growls and the iridescent-green eyes, Layla had put two of the kids on their asses like it was nothing last night. Dylan would have to be completely clueless not to suspect there was something unusual about her.
“Yes,” Jayson said. “She’s very special.”
“Are you guys a couple?”
Jayson grinned. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
“I figured,” Dylan said. “You seem completely different when you’re with her—more alive.”
Damn. When he was Dylan’s age, he was oblivious to anything that didn’t come up and smack him across the face, but the kid was completely right. He did feel more alive when he was with Layla.
“Are you guys getting married?” Dylan asked.
