Once on the stairs, I close the door and lower a heavy metal cross bar. The clanking sound is louder than I’d like, but it shouldn’t matter now.
“Dress quickly.” I say, holding up my phone’s flashlight so she can get dressed. There are no windows in this fortified stairwell, so without the phone’s light, it would be pitch black. Natalia pulls on pants and a shirt.
“Shoes?”
She shakes her head worriedly as she digs through her purse.
“It’s all right. Come on.” I hurry down the stairs to the exit door, and she follows. “Okay, stay there.”
Looking over my shoulder, I find her standing two steps above, looking pensive. She nods to acknowledge she’s heard me and puts her purse over her head so the strap comes across her body, which frees her from having to carry it. Smart.
I extinguish my phone’s light and put it in my pocket. Then I open the back door slowly. A man appears from behind a truck, and there’s a gun in his hand. Jerking back behind the metal door saves me from being hit by the two bullets that slam into it.
Armed and shooting to kill.
From above us, someone bangs against the door to the stairwell. No retreat that way, but for now the attacking force is divided.
“Stay behind the door and listen for me to call you. If I haven’t called after a minute, pull the door closed and wait. If it’s me, I’ll knock three times, pause, and then knock three times again.” I show her, repeating my instructions in Russian to be sure she understands.
Opening the door again, I spot the man. This time I spray the area with bullets, forcing him to dive to the ground as I rush outside.
He tries to shoot from the ground, but one of my shots hits him. I jog around the building, my eyes scanning the area sharply. The main door’s broken open. I use that to get in quickly and silently.
When I open the freight door, two men come barreling over to the loft’s railing. I spray the loft with bullets. One guy is hit and falls over the rail, landing with a thud on the warehouse floor. The other retreats out of sight. On and off, I continue to shoot to lay down cover for myself to cross to the car.
Once inside, I start it and throw it in gear. I speed out of the warehouse and circle the structure. When I reach the back, I roll my window down. “Kiska! Come!”
She doesn’t hear me, so I drive to the back door and jump out. I bang on the door in the two bursts of knocking. Without hesitation the door opens, and she rushes out.
“In the car,” I say, keeping watch with the gun raised and ready to fire.
Once Natalia is in the passenger seat, I get in and grind the car into gear. No one shoots at us as I drive away, but I know that at least one assailant is still alive. I wonder who sent them. Probably Egorov. Which begs the question… how did he know where to find us?
“Natalia, did you tell Polasky or anyone who knows Egorov that we were in New York and staying in this area?”
“No. Of course no,” she says quickly.
“Your phone, did you bring it to America with you? Or did you buy it here?”
She stares at me, confused.
In Russian, I ask, “Is your phone from Russia? Or the U.S.?”
“Here. U.S.”
“Did Egorov buy it?”
“No, I buy.”
“Did Egorov ever have access to it?”
“Yes, he took it from me as punishment. Two times.”
“Turn it off.”
“Off?”
“Yes, turn it off right now. He’s tracking you with it.”
