"Just a graze," he announces.
"What's the plan?" He asks next, his dark eyes scanning the lower level we've reached. Water drips down the walls, stalagmites grow upward all around us, while stalactites grow downward, dripping water onto our heads. Nico has to bend underneath one to move forward.
We wedge ourselves into the shadows, listening to the shouting and calls echoing off the walls. The cavernous space makes it hard to pinpoint where we are. I hand him a bottle of water and answer his question, "I have a plane waiting for us, about two hours’ walk from here."
"That means we have to get out of here first. How many men did you bring?"
I chuckle, and he curses. "What the hell was my brother thinking?"
"Brother?" I look at him, amused. "Honey, your brother has no idea you're still alive."
That makes him curse again. "Then who the fuck are you?"
"Oksana Arsenyev." There is no reason not to tell him who I am.
"Grigori's sister?"
"The one and only."
"Why the fuck would the Russians involve themselves with rescuingme?" He looks genuinely surprised. There is something else in his eyes, too, but I can't quite place it. I file that thought away for later and stuff the edge of the shirt that has come loose back into the wound, hissing between my teeth, "Long story. Just be glad someone came."
"Are you going to keep me as leverage or bring me back to my family?" He wants to know, gripping the gun I gave him.
Is he being serious right now? I laugh, "You're gonna shoot me?"
"Depends."
For a split second, it's there—the telltale sign that says he's going to pull the trigger—then it's gone. As quick as it came. Oh, I really like this boy. The file Grigori sent says he's twenty-two now. He was taken when he was nineteen, and three years of imprisonment have probably made him into some kind of man, but to me, he's just a boy, a boy considering any means to stay alive. Yes, I can appreciate that.
"And you think I'll tell you the truth now that you’re pointingmygun at me?" I challenge him.
"I’ll know if you tell the truth or not," he replies confidently, and I laugh out loud.
"I was going to take you to your family, but after insulting me by pointingmygun at me, I might have to kill you."
"Okay," he turns suddenly as we both hear the noise. Both of us shoot in the same direction. A subdued moan and the thud of a body tell us it's time to head on and to put our little discussion off for later.
We move like ghosts. The plan right now is to stay ahead of our pursuers, to take out as many as possible, and make our way back to the entrance.
"Hold on," Nico stops.
"What?"
"We need to figure out how to get out of here."
I have an excellent sense of direction. Being lost inside an abandoned mine is not on my list of priorities today. The Bratva trained me in all kinds of scenarios: urban warfare, forests, swamps, even mines. I've been there.
"No worries, I know." In the dim light that comes from some naked light bulbs hung sporadically throughout the mine, I see his frown and add, "Trust me."
He snorts. "I don't have a choice, do I?"
"Oh, there's always a choice," I remind him, and he grins.
He shakes his head. "Alrightthen."
By my estimation, it should be getting dark outside now, so I lead us back toward the entrance. A few detours later, and we're back at the mouth of the mine shaft. I count silhouettes, at least fifteen that I can see. I hand Nico a fresh mag before pulling out a grenade. Nico stares at it and shakes his head. He throws a skeptical glance at the mine entrance, "Risky."
He's right, the detonation could seal the only exit we know of. I shrug, your call.He takes an exasperated breath, "What the hell, what do we have to lose?" before he nods, and I pull the pin.
