Another gunman appeared out of the gloom, circling wide, focused on that stack of wood. The hunter froze momentarily when he spotted the sprawled body of his teammate.
The pause was long enough.
Seichan fired from her shelter and dropped the man next to his mate.
She waited another three breaths for anyone else to appear. The sirens now screeched, maybe a block or two away. She heard thethump-thumpof a helicopter’s approach. Like her, any remaining hunters would need to evacuate before the authorities closed in.
With time running short, she slipped out of her shelter. A sharp intake of breath on her left was the only warning. She ducked and rolled. Rounds strafed overhead. She swung her rifle to return fire, but another gunman crashed toward her from the opposite direction.
The pair must have lain in wait, letting their teammate draw her out.
No way to get them both.
Still, she had to try.
She fired low at the first man, peppering him center mass in his chest. As he crumpled to the ground, she rolled to the other side—but the second man had his weapon leveled at her.
Too late...
Then a pistol cracked and the man’s head snapped back, carrying his body with it. She turned and spotted a familiar figure hobbling her way, limping hard on an ankle, his face a mask of blood.
“Think that’s all of them,” Gray said.
She gained her feet and rushed over to him. She didn’t know whether to punch him or hug him. “Why didn’t you radio back?” she scolded harshly. “I thought... I don’t know what I thought.”
But she did.
I thought you were dead.
“I heard your message.” He ran his fingers down his neck. “But lost my throat mike. So I kept hidden, then heard the firefight and closed in.”
She hooked an arm around his waist to help him stay upright. “We need to get out of here.”
He nodded as sirens roared up to the outskirts of the monastery’s ruins. “Out of the frying pan...”
“Into the line of fire,” she finished for him.
7:10P.M.
Gray reached the window they had climbed through earlier. He had to shoulder aside a heavy beam that had fallen across it to make room. The effort left him trembling. He wiped blood from an eye. His body was lacerated, bruised, and battered.
Behind them, coming from the direction of the church, a bullhorn bellowed with Russian commands as the local authorities started a sweep of the monastery’s ruins. The burning dyehouse would undoubtedly be their first priority.
We must be gone by then.
But the police weren’t the only threat. Flames spread behind him, building into a bonfire at his back.
He peered out the window. The sun was nearly down. The open grounds between the dyehouse and the fortress wall were heavily shadowed. He had hoped to use the cover of smoke to aid their escape, but the wind blowing off the river had swept the area free, leaving only a slight pall across the weedy yard. Still, the steady breeze was driving a thick wall of smoke toward the church, where a majority of the police gathered.
“Stay low,” he whispered. “We’ll break for the tower.”
The plan was to exit the way they came in.
“We’ll be exposed once we’re on the scaffolding,” Seichan warned. “If anyone looks that way...”
He understood, but they had no choice. They were pinned down in this corner of the monastery.
Seichan lifted her stolen assault rifle. “I can try to lure the authorities away, draw them off, allowing you the time to scale over and reach the motorcycle. I’ll rendezvous back at the embassy.”
