RUSSIA: On a cold Wednesday night last autumn, more than 800 people filed into the Dubrovka theatre and took their seats for the musical Nord-Ost, one of the hit stage shows of the season in Moscow.
Act One of the October 23rd performance went like clockwork. With Act Two came the start of what many people here call Russia's September 11th.
The audience watched in bewilderment as more than 40 hooded people stormed the stage. Bewilderment became horror when they saw how the intruders bristled with deadly weaponry: the men carried Kalashnikovs and grenades; a dozen or so women had bombs strapped to their waists.
They kept their hostages in their seats, made the orchestra pit their latrine, and threatened to destroy the theatre and its unwilling occupants if the Kremlin refused to withdraw its troops from Chechnya, 1,000 miles to the south.
The region's rebels, battling for independence from Russia since 1994, had brought their war to the centre of Moscow.
After 58 hours, Russia's Special Forces pumped gas into the theatre, and stormed the building.
All the Chechens were killed. Officially, 129 hostages died with them, though hospital records suggest more than 140 may have perished. The Kremlin called the raid a triumph, a victory over this kind of "international terrorists".
Much of the world wondered why two hours elapsed between gas being released and the victims' getting medical attention.
Many people were sickened by images of soldiers dragging unconscious hostages from the theatre, their heads bouncing on the tarmac, then piling them onto buses rather than waiting ambulances.
Even when doctors gained access to the suffocating victims, they were not told what kind of gas had poisoned them; that was a state secret.
The siege remains shrouded in mystery, and speculation fills the gap created by the absence of official information. Western military analysts say many of the rebels may have been executed, citing the single fatal gunshots to the head that many of them suffered. They also ask if the gas used was a substance banned under international treaties.
Moscow courts have rebuffed claims for damages, saying relatives of those who died should be happy with a payment of about $9,000, and survivors with a one-off handout of $3,000.
On the eve of today's anniversary of the siege, ex-hostages said they would go to the European Court of Human Rights to seek justice. "The authorities failed to administer proper treatment, and at the same time are refusing to investigate why this was the case," said Ms Yelena Liptser of the Civilian Alliance for International Defence, a Russian group specialising in international law.
"We will file a formal lawsuit within a month."
Rights groups here say most details about the siege have been made inaccessible.
President Vladimir Putin insisted the gas pumped into the theatre was harmless, and branded Chechnya's separatists as allies of al-Qaeda and other extremist Islamic groups. The rebels deny this.
The theatre crisis did nothing for the guerrillas' international image, and the war in Chechnya grinds on. Mr Putin says this month's election of his candidate as Chechen president is a key step towards establishing peace there. The rebels have vowed to continue fighting.
For the cast of Nord-Ost, the musical curtailed a year ago tonight, the show may still go on. It reopened at the Dubrovka theatre this year, but closed after producers said people were too scared to come in large numbers.