Chapter 6: Back to Back

I was off him and on my feet before the light finished crossing the ceiling.

"Lamp," I said.

Luka understood at once. He rolled, found the lamp cord with his good hand, and yanked it out of the wall.

The cabin went dark.

"How many cars?" he whispered.

"Two. I heard the second stop on the gravel."

"Nobody knows this place."

"Somebody does."

I went to the window and moved the curtain a finger's width.

Two black vans sat at the end of the drive with their lights off. Men were getting out of them without a sound.

Six of them, all carrying long guns.

"Wake Mr. Orlin," I said. "Put him behind the fireplace, on the floor, with the cushions over him."

"Nika."

"Please, Luka."

He looked at me in the dark for half a second.

Then he went. I heard the back door open, a short whisper, the old man's bad hip scraping across the boards.

I took the pistol out of my purse. I checked it and found eleven rounds.

Luka came back with his own gun in his right hand, a heavy black one I had never seen.

He had never once carried it into my flat.

"Where did you get that?" I asked.

"It's been in the car for two years."

"Can you use it with that arm?"

"Better than you can use a ladle."

I almost smiled.

"There are six," I said. "Two will come for the front, and the rest will circle the sides and the back."

"I'll take the ones at the back."

"You'll take them."

"Yes."

"Alone."

"You hold the front. Shoot anyone who reaches the porch. Don't open the door."

"Nika, I am not letting you go out there."

"You're not letting me," I said, and I kissed him.

I don't know why I did it.

It was short and hard, on the corner of his mouth, and it tasted of salt and fear.

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