When Rustam safely descended, Alexei climbed onto the windowsill. At that moment, the door to the room burst open, and a man in a black mask with a pistol appeared on the threshold.

"Stop!" he shouted.

Without hesitation, Alexei jumped. The apple tree cushioned his fall, but it still hurt. A shot rang out from above, the bullet whistled past and embedded itself in the tree trunk.

"Run!" Dinara pulled him along.

They dashed through the garden toward the back gate, with Rustam following them at a surprising speed for his age. All around, shouts echoed, and flashlight beams darted among the trees.

"This way!" Rustam pointed to a narrow path winding between the trees.

They ran beyond the garden's bounds and found themselves amid tall cornfields. Dark stalks closed over their heads, hiding them from pursuers. Behind them, more shots rang out.

"What about Ermek?" asked Dinara, breathing heavily.

"Your uncle knows what he's doing," Rustam replied. "He's distracting them so we can escape."

They made their way through the cornfield, trying to move as quietly as possible. After some time, a glow flared behind them—Rustam's house was on fire.

"Their usual tactic," the old man said grimly. "Destroying evidence."

Finally, they emerged from the cornfield and found themselves at the foot of a hill. Here began a sparse forest, with trees growing on the steep slope.

"We need to go up," Rustam indicated. "At the summit, there's a cave where we can hide and wait."

The climb was difficult, especially for Rustam. Despite being in good physical condition, age was taking its toll. Alexei supported the old man by the arm, helping him overcome particularly steep sections.

"Are you all right?" he asked when Rustam heavily sat down on a stone to catch his breath.

"Just a short rest," the old man smiled. "In my youth, I could climb this mountain in twenty minutes. Now I need to stop."

Dinara nervously looked back at the valley from which they had come.

"They might follow our tracks," she said. "Especially if they have dogs."

"The path we're taking is frequently used by shepherds and their flocks," Rustam replied. "Our tracks will be lost among hundreds of others. Plus, it should rain soon." He pointed to heavy clouds obscuring the stars.

They continued their journey. The higher they climbed, the cooler the air became. The wind strengthened, bending the grass and making trees creak. Soon the first raindrops fell, and then a downpour began.

"This is good," said Rustam, although they were all soaked to the skin. "The rain will wash away our tracks."

Finally, they reached a small rocky ledge, behind which opened the entrance to a cave—a narrow crevice in the rock, barely noticeable in the darkness.

"We've arrived," announced Rustam. "We'll be safe here."

They squeezed inside and found themselves in a small but dry grotto. Rustam took flint from his pouch and lit a small oil lamp, which was also in his baggage.

"You came prepared," Alexei remarked, looking at the old man with respect.

"When you're eighty-four years old and keeping an ancient secret, you need to be ready for surprises," Rustam grinned. "At my age, you don't run as fast as you used to, but experience suggests what might come in handy."

Besides the lamp, Rustam's pouch contained crackers, dried meat, a bottle of water, and, most importantly, that ancient book with his ancestor's records.

"You specifically took it with you," Dinara noted. "You knew they would come?"

"I didn't know, but I suspected," Rustam replied, carefully taking out the book. "Since Alexei called you from St. Petersburg, I've been preparing for this moment. Secrets of this magnitude don't remain unnoticed for long."