Rustam stepped forward, shielding Alexei and Dinara.

"You will get neither the medallion nor the book, Karabaev," he said firmly. "You are unworthy to touch them."

"Worthiness—such a subjective concept, Rustam-aga," Karabaev shrugged. "Who determines who is worthy and who isn't? You? Your ancestors? The Nestorians, long since decayed in the earth?" He shook his head. "No, in our world, everything is decided by power and money. And I have both."

He nodded to one of his men:

"Take the medallion and the book from them."

The masked man stepped forward, heading toward Alexei. At that moment, with unexpectedly quick movement, Rustam drew a knife from his belt and lunged at the attacker. The knife entered the masked man's shoulder, and he cried out in pain.

Immediately shots rang out. Rustam jerked, taking a bullet to the chest, but continued to stand, shielding Alexei and Dinara.

"Run!" he shouted, pushing them toward the passage.

Dinara screamed, seeing her grandfather take a second bullet. Alexei grabbed her hand and dragged her to the exit.

"Don't stop!" Rustam shouted, taking a third bullet and falling to his knees. Blood soaked his shirt, but he continued to grip the knife in his hand. "Find the truth!"

At that moment, Karabaev approached him and pointed a gun directly at his face.

"Where is the disc?" he asked. "The astronomical instrument?"

Rustam raised his eyes, full of contempt:

"You will never find it, Karabaev. Even with the medallion."

"We'll see," Karabaev replied coldly and pulled the trigger.

Alexei, dragging Dinara toward the passage, heard the final shot and her desperate cry. He looked back and saw Rustam's body lifelessly sinking to the stone floor of the cave.

"Let's go!" he shouted, pushing Dinara into the narrow passage.

They ran through the dark tunnel, stumbling over rocks, scraping their hands on rough walls. Behind them came shouts and the sound of footsteps—Karabaev's men were pursuing them.

"Faster!" Alexei urged, though he could see Dinara was barely keeping on her feet from shock and grief.

The tunnel gradually widened but became steeper. They were sliding rather than running, grabbing at wall protrusions to avoid falling.

Finally, dim light appeared ahead—the exit from the cave. They burst outside and found themselves on the opposite slope of the mountain. Rain was still falling, turning the slope into a slippery mess of mud and stones.

"There, to the trees!" Alexei pointed.

They ran down the slope, slipping and falling. Behind them, the first pursuers emerged from the cave. Shots rang out, bullets raising small fountains of mud near the fugitives.

Suddenly Dinara stumbled and fell, rolling down the slope. Alexei dashed after her, trying to stop her fall. He grabbed her hand, but the momentum was too great—they both rolled downward, collecting mud, leaves, and small stones.

The fall ended in a small ravine overgrown with bushes. They lay there, breathing heavily, dirty and soaked to the skin.

"Are you all right?" asked Alexei.

Dinara silently nodded, but her eyes were full of tears.

"Grandfather…" she whispered.

"I'm so sorry," said Alexei, embracing her. "But we need to go. They're still looking for us."

He helped her up. The bushes concealed them from pursuers, but it was temporary shelter.

"The book," Dinara suddenly said. "We lost the book! It's with Karabaev!"

Alexei automatically checked the medallion—it was still in place, hidden under his shirt.

"We have the medallion," he said. "So not all is lost."

He looked around. The downpour had turned into a drizzle, visibility improved. Below, in the valley, the lights of a village could be seen.