We rush forward in tandem, taking cover as we cross the thirty or so meters to the car. My heart’s racing at the reality of my son’s life being on the line.
The other guard is several feet away, only one remaining close to the vehicle. He doesn’t see us.
I wait until he turns slightly, scanning the street.
I lift my silenced pistol, smooth as breath.
One shot.
He folds like his bones have simply decided they’re tired of holding him up. Andrei breaks off, heading to the other side of the car, between it and the other guard. He grabs the handle and yanks the door open. The hinges let out a metallic groan.
Shit.
The other guard’s head snaps toward the sound. He turns fully, grabbing the rifle from over his shoulder as he approaches. I prepare to shoot, but the guard already has his rifle up, muzzle flashing. The crack of gunfire splits the air.
Andrei jerks as he dives behind the car door with Sasha tucked against his chest, shielding the boy with his body. Bullets chew into metal, sparks flying. Sasha makes a frightened noise, muffled against Andrei’s shoulder.
I fire, the guard finally in view. One shot, then another.
The guard staggers as he tries to get another shot off, but he’s already falling. He collapses into a graceless heap, blood pooling on the fresh snow.
I hurry over to Andrei and Sasha, spotting a hole in the back of Andrei’s jacket. I put my hand on his shoulder and he turns. Sasha is underneath him.
He’s alive.
His little hand shoots out and clutches my coat like he’s anchoring himself to me. “Papa?”
“I am here,moy syn. I am here.”
When Andrei looks at me, I fear it is the glassy stare of a man in the process of bleeding out. But there’s no blood.
“I remembered the vest,” he says with a grin. He pulls down his shirt just enough to reveal a Kevlar vest.
Gunfire cracks from within the warehouse. The battle is on.
I look down at Sasha. His eyes are wide, but he’s not screaming. He’s holding it together in the way he always does.
“Can you hot wire this?” I ask.
Andrei cranes his neck to look at the front of the car. “Yes. Easily.”
“Then do it. Get him out of here, back to the mansion. Stay with him.”
Andrei turns his eyes to the warehouse; he wants to be part of the battle.
“You’ve done enough,” I say. I touch the bullet hole in his jacket. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Understood.”
I turn to Sasha. “You will go with Andrei. You listen and do exactly what he says.”
Sasha nods, trembling. “Where’s Amalie?”
My jaw tightens. “I’m going to go get her.”
Andrei slides into the driver’s seat, already working. I guide Sasha into the back seat. “Keep your head down until Andrei says otherwise.”
The engine catches. More gunfire erupts.
