As Dana was leaving the hotel one morning, the little boy she had seen on the street was standing in the alley.
Jovan opened the door of the replacement Land Rover for Dana. "Good morning, madam."
"Good morning." The boy stood there, staring at Dana. She walked over to him. "Good morning."
There was no reply. Dana said to Jovan, "How do you say 'good morning' in Slovene?"
The little boy answered, "Dobro jutro."
Dana turned to him. "So you understand English."
"Maybe."
"What's your name?"
"Kemal."
"How old are you, Kemal?"
He turned and walked away.
"He's frightened of strangers," Jovan said.
Dana looked after the boy. "I don't blame him. So am I."
Four hours later, when the Land Rover returned to the alley in back of the Holiday Inn, Kemal was waiting near the entrance.
As Dana got out of the car, Kemal said, "Twelve."
"What?" Then Dana remembered. "Oh." He was small for his age. She looked at his empty right shirtsleeve and started to ask him a question, then stopped herself. "Where do you live, Kemal? Can we take you home?" She watched him turn and walk away.
Jovan said, "He has no manners."
Dana said quietly, "Maybe he lost them when he lost his arm."
That evening in the hotel dining room, the reporters were talking about the new rumors of an imminent peace. "The UN has finally gotten involved," Gabriella Orsi declared.
"It's about time."
"If you ask me, it's too late."
"It's never too late," Dana said quietly.
The following morning, two news stories came over the wires. The first one was about a peace agreement brokered by the United States and the United Nations. The second story was that Oslobodjenje, Sarajevo's newspaper, had been bombed out of existence.
"Our Washington bureaus are covering the peace agreement," Dana told Benn. "Let's do a story on Oslobodjenje."
Dana was standing in front of the demolished building that had once housed Oslobodjenje. The camera's red light was on.
"People die here every day," Dana said into the lens, "and buildings are destroyed. But this building was murdered. It housed the only free newspaper in Sarajevo, Oslobodjenje. It was a newspaper that dared to tell the truth. When it was bombed out of its headquarters, it was moved into the basement, to keep the presses alive. When there were no more newsstands to sell the papers from, its reporters went out on the streets to peddle them themselves. They were selling more than newspapers. They were selling freedom. With the death of Oslobodjenje, another piece of freedom has died here."
In his office, Matt Baker was watching the news broadcast. "Dammit, she's good!" He turned to his assistant. "I want her to have her own satellite truck. Move on it."
"Yes, sir."
When Dana returned to her room, there was a visitor waiting for her. Colonel Gordan Divjak was lounging in a chair when Dana walked in.
She stopped, startled. "They didn't tell me I had a visitor."
"This is not a social visit." His beady black eyes focused on her. "I watched your broadcast about Oslobodjenje."
Dana studied him warily. "Yes?"
"You were permitted to come into our country to report, not to make judgments."
"I didn't make any - "
"Do not interrupt me. Your idea of freedom is not necessarily our idea of freedom. Do you understand me?"
"No. I'm afraid I - "
"Then let me explain it to you, Miss Evans. You are a guest in my country. Perhaps you are a spy for your government."
"I am not a - "
"Do not interrupt me. I warned you at the airport. We are not playing games. We are at war. Anyone involved in espionage will be executed." His words were all the more chilling because they were spoken softly.
He got to his feet. "This is your last warning."
Dana watched him leave. I'm not going to let him frighten me, she thought defiantly.
She was frightened.
A care package arrived from Matt Baker. It was an enormous box filled with candy, granola bars, canned foods, and a dozen other nonperishable items. Dana took it into the lobby to share it with the other reporters. They were delighted.
"Now, that's what I call a boss," Satomi Asaka said.
"How do I get a job with the Washington Tribune?" Juan Santos joked.
Kemal was waiting in the alley again. The frayed, thin jacket he had on looked as though it was about to fall apart.
"Good morning, Kemal."
He stood there, silent, watching her from under half-closed lids.
"I'm going shopping. Would you like to go with me?"
No answer.
"Let me put it another way," Dana said, exasperated. She opened the back door of the vehicle. "Get in the car. Now!"
The boy stood there a moment, shocked, then slowly moved toward the car.
Dana and Jovan watched him climb into the backseat.
Dana said to Jovan, "Can you find a department store or clothing shop that's open?"
"I know one."
"Let's go there."
They rode in silence for the first few minutes.
"Do you have a mother or father, Kemal?"
He shook his head.
"Where do you live?"
He shrugged.
Dana felt him move closer to her as though to absorb the warmth of her body.
The clothing store was in the Bascarsija, the old market of Sarajevo. The front had been bombed out, but the store was open. Dana took Kemal's left hand and led him into the store.