"What are we going to do?"

"We'll try to lose them. I know these roads better than they do," Dinara said confidently. "Hold on."

She sharply turned onto a side road that Alexei hadn't even noticed—a narrow dirt track veering away from the main highway. The car shook on the uneven surface, but Dinara, without reducing speed, confidently steered between shrubs and scattered trees.

"This is an old road," she explained. "Local residents sometimes use it. Tourists don't know about it."

Alexei held onto the handle above the door, trying not to bounce too much on the bumps. After a few minutes, Dinara turned again, this time onto an even narrower path that seemed about to disappear among the dense vegetation.

"Are they still following us?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the road.

Alexei looked back but didn't see any pursuers.

"Doesn't look like it. It seems we've lost them."

"Don't relax," Dinara shook her head. "It won't be for long. If they're really watching us on Karabaev's orders, they have resources. Possibly even a helicopter."

She continued zigzagging along mountain roads, clearly trying to confuse their trail. Finally, they emerged at a small village consisting of several dozen houses arranged along a single street.

"Where are we?" asked Alexei.

"This is where my cousin Bakyt lives," Dinara replied, slowing down. "We can stop at his place, wait a while, and change our route."

She turned into the yard of one of the houses. It was a modest single-story structure with a large garden where apple and apricot trees grew. An old UAZ with peeling paint stood by the gate.

A sturdy middle-aged man emerged from the house, clearly surprised by their arrival. He said something to Dinara in Kyrgyz, and she quickly replied. The man nodded and gestured for them to enter the house.

"Bakyt says we can stay here for a while," Dinara translated. "He suspects his house is being watched, but not from the road—from the direction of the mountains."

"Watched? Why?" Alexei frowned.

Dinara and Bakyt exchanged a few phrases.

"He says strangers have been appearing in the village in recent weeks. Asking about old caves, archaeological finds, local legends. Offering money for information." She paused. "And they were especially interested in our family. My grandfather, uncle Ermek, and… me."

Alexei felt a chill run down his spine.

"You think it's connected to the medallion? But how could they have found out?"

"I don't know," Dinara shook her head. "But I have a bad feeling."

They entered the house. Inside it was cool and smelled of herbs. Bakyt led them to the living room, where a table was already set with national dishes—flatbreads, cheese, and jam.

"Bakyt says we should eat something, and then he'll drive us to Ermek in his car," said Dinara. "It'll be safer that way."

"Thank you," Alexei nodded to Bakyt, though he wasn't sure if the man understood Russian.

To his surprise, the man replied in quite decent Russian:

"You're welcome. Dinara's family is my family." He gave Alexei an appraising look. "Are you an archaeologist, like Dinara?"

"Yes," Alexei nodded. "My grandfather worked here on an expedition in 1954."

Bakyt raised his eyebrows in surprise and again spoke to Dinara in Kyrgyz. Their conversation became increasingly animated. Finally, Dinara turned to Alexei:

"Bakyt says his father told stories about a Russian scientist who found something important in the mountains and because of this quarreled with his superiors." She translated a bit more. "He says this scientist secretly met with our grandfather many years later, in the 1980s."