"Sounds like an enthusiastic collector," Alexei remarked.

"Perhaps," Dinara didn't look convinced. "But my uncle Ermek isn't impressed with his methods. He says Karabaev is only interested in certain types of artifacts, especially those connected with Nestorians and ancient treasures. He doesn't care about anything else."

Alexei pondered this. It could be a simple coincidence, but the fact that a local oligarch was specifically interested in Nestorian artifacts seemed suspicious.

"Do you think he might have somehow learned about the medallion?"

Dinara shrugged.

"I don't know. But he definitely has connections at our museum. The director regularly dines with him and receives generous donations for 'the development of historical research.'" She made air quotes with her free hand.

They drove onto the highway leading to Issyk-Kul. The road gradually ascended into the mountains. On both sides stretched green meadows, with occasional yurts and flocks of sheep grazing. The scenery became increasingly picturesque.

"How beautiful," Alexei couldn't help saying. "Like something from a fairy tale."

"Yes," Dinara smiled. "I missed these places when I was studying in St. Petersburg. No matter how many beautiful palaces and parks I saw, nothing compares to our mountains and Issyk-Kul."

A light nostalgic smile appeared on her face. For a moment, Alexei saw in her the girl he had fallen in love with during their student years—open, dreamy, full of enthusiasm. But the moment quickly passed, and she became composed and slightly detached again.

They passed a road police checkpoint, where Dinara showed some documents, and the officer, after glancing at them, saluted and waved them through. Alexei raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Museum ID," Dinara explained. "It provides certain privileges on the roads, especially if you're heading to the nature reserve."

After an hour, the road began to wind between mountain slopes, climbing toward a pass. Traffic became less busy. Occasionally, cars or small trucks passed in the opposite direction, but mostly the road was deserted.

Alexei noticed a black SUV in the rearview mirror, following them at some distance. At first, he didn't pay much attention, but then he noticed: when Dinara reduced speed, the SUV repeated their maneuver. A feeling of unease stirred in his chest.

"Dinara," he said quietly, "have you noticed that black jeep has been following us for some time now?"

Dinara cast a quick glance in the mirror and tensed slightly.

"I noticed it when we left Bishkek," she admitted. "But I didn't want to worry you. It might just be a coincidence."

"Or it might not be," Alexei murmured. "Let's check."

"How?"

"At the next turn, brake suddenly, as if you've seen something on the road. If they also brake without reason, then they're definitely following us."

Dinara nodded. A few minutes later, when the road made another turn around a rocky outcrop, she suddenly hit the brakes. The car jerked and stopped. Alexei turned around and through the rear window saw that the black SUV had also braked sharply, maintaining a significant distance from them.

"Well, there we have it," he said. "It's not a coincidence."

Without a word, Dinara started moving again, but now drove noticeably faster.

"Who do you think it could be?" Alexei asked.

"I don't know for sure," she answered, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "But I have my suspicions."

"Karabaev's people?"

She nodded.

"Possibly. He has eyes and ears everywhere."

Alexei felt the medallion hanging around his neck under his shirt seem to grow heavier.