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CHAPTER 62
Mtskheta, Georgia

Sunday late evening



Eight feet down in the freshly dug hole under the cathedral floor, Zurab was swinging his pick to loosen the dirt. On top of the ground, Vano had finished assembling a light aluminum ladder that he lowered down into the hole, accidentally hitting his friend on the head.

“You bastard, be careful with that,” Zurab yelled up at him holding his head.

“Keep your voice down,” Vano said, “And let me down there to vacuum the dirt out.”

Zurab climbed out of the hole, and lied down on the dirt floor and said, “Wake me up when you’re done.”

“Don’t even think about going to sleep, you lazy bastard,” Vano said with concern in his voice.

“Why the hell not?” Zurab asked disgustedly.

“What if you fall asleep and one of these dirt walls caves in on me? Remember that happened to old man Yashvili when he was digging out his septic tank. They said the poor bastard probably died instantly from the crushing earth.”

“So what the hell do you want from me,” Zurab said with his tired eyes half way closed, “If you die instantly, I’m not going to do you much good anyway.”

“You rotten bastard, you stay the hell awake. Do you hear me?”

“Aren’t you tired?” Zurab screamed down the hole.

“Hell yeah I’m tired, I almost electrocuted myself at work today when I dozed off with my hand in the back of a television set.”

“Why don’t you sweep out that pit, and we’ll both take a well-deserved nap, we have to be really close to the box anyway.”

“Good idea, I’ll be right up, you stay awake until I’m up there,” Vano said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Zurab said as he dozed off.



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