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Noya did not make a sound when the bullet struck her in the chest. She simply gasped before her eyes fluttered and slowly eased closed. Talanov jerked his head around in time to see Noya’s slender body deflate with a gentle sigh. The sight of the grotesque, bloody hole above her heart made every cell within him scream. In fact, Talanov did not hear the wail of his own voice in the aftermath of that moment.
Sometimes, death was necessary. Talanov had shot people over the years, and in each case it made sense because there had been a logical reason. Usually, it was because someone was trying to kill him, or that someone else was trying to kill someone else. This time, however, it didn’t make sense. Noya was an innocent bystander to everything that was happening. She was also an incubator for the anthrax that Sofia so desperately wanted. Which made it even more unfathomable that Sofia would want to kill her. Why, then, had she done it?
Talanov knew the answer before he had finished asking the question.
It has always been about us, Sofia once told him. In other words, this was about getting even . . . for him not feeling for her what she confessed feeling for him . . . for him making her look foolish and incompetent to Odin and Svet . . . for him ruining her plans. Shooting Noya was simply her way of destroying one of the few people he cared about. Even worse, he had sensed what she was going to do the instant before she did it. His response had been to yank the steering wheel back and forth in an effort to divert her aim. His response had been a fraction too late.
Talanov knew what came next. Sofia would shoot him before jumping out of the car. Like he, she had been trained to tuck and roll and protect herself from injury. She may end up with some broken bones, but she would live.
But just as Sofia had miscalculated Talanov’s response to her temptations, she also miscalculated his reaction to her vengeance, because instead of hitting the brakes, which would have been a natural response at the sight of Noya getting shot, he stomped on the accelerator. Thus, having braced herself for the opposite, Sofia was thrown against the seat when the car bolted forward. When that happened, Talanov grabbed the Makarov and wrenched it upward. The gun fired, then twice, punching holes in the roof. And with the car hurtling forward at full throttle, Talanov and Sofia began wrestling for the gun.
On the opposite corner of the intersection ahead was a large brick building. It looked as solid as a cliff, with an oversized foundation and reinforced embellishments. Which was just what Talanov wanted. He would end it all here and now. He was sick of the senseless killing, the deceit, the betrayals, and the monstrosity of biological weapons and people like Sofia willing to exploit them by killing anyone who got in her way. Her senseless murder of Noya was simply too much to bear. An innocent girl robbed of life. Yes, Sofia had been the one who pulled the trigger, but he was responsible, too. If he had not taken this assignment, Noya’s family would still be alive and Noya would still be able to grow up and follow her dreams of aiming for the sky. But he had accepted the assignment, and he could not change that now. He could, however, make sure Sofia’s killing spree ended tonight.
Glancing out the windshield, Sofia saw what Talanov was planning to do, and she hurled herself at him with a renewed effort to rip the gun from his hand.
Talanov was not sure he could hang on much longer. The pain in his wounded shoulder was excruciating. But he knew he couldn’t quit until he had driven his car into the side of that building. Moscow had betrayed him. Sofia had betrayed him. His whole world had betrayed him. And the only good and innocent person he knew had just been killed. Yes, he would end it right here and now.
And then Noya coughed. It was barely a sound, it was so faint, but it was definitely a cough. Noya was alive! Talanov hit the brakes and cranked the steering wheel hard to the right. He would have preferred to go left but his shoulder felt like it was being ripped out of its socket. Going right was his only option.
With its wheels locked, the car skidded backward in a clockwise direction until it collided with the corner of the building and sheared off the open passenger door. The jolt flattened Talanov and Sofia into the seat before bouncing them forward again, with neither one letting go of the pistol. Sofia thrashed Talanov’s hand back and forth, trying to wrench the gun free. She slammed his hand against the top of the steering wheel. The gun fired another deafening blast that punched a jagged hole in the windshield. Talanov felt his grip loosen and stomped on the gas pedal. The car shot forward and threw Sofia face-first into the seat. He then began swerving back and forth while the car picked up speed.
Sofia knew what Talanov was trying to do. He was swerving back and forth to try and throw her from the car. There was no door on the passenger side now. It had been sheared off, which meant if she lost her grip on the gun, or if Talanov let go at just the right moment during one of his swerving turns, gravity would pull her right out of the car and she would hit the pavement at more than eighty miles per hour. That meant she had a choice to make. Did she continue fighting for the gun? Right now for each of them it was a one-handed tug of war. For her, it was one hand on the pistol and one hand trying to grab whatever there was to grab onto keep from being thrown out of the car. For Talanov, it was one hand on the steering wheel and one hand fighting for the gun. It was a coin toss who would win the battle. Except it was not a coin toss. It was whoever seized the moment and snatched the coin in midair.
A squealing turn pulled Sofia toward the door. She slammed a hand against the dashboard to try and stop herself from being thrown out, but her hand began slipping because there was nothing to grab.
Sofia saw Talanov glance over at her. Saw in his eyes what he was planning to do. He was planning to let go of the gun and allow centrifugal force to finish the job. Well, this isn’t over yet, she thought, suddenly letting go.
Talanov had been tugging against Sofia for possession of the gun, so when she let go, he was catapulted into the door. A blinding spasm of pain shot through his wounded shoulder. When the car swerved, Sofia was sucked backward toward the opening on her side of the car. But Sofia now had the use of both hands, one of which was already on the dashboard. So she grabbed the doorpost with her other hand, reared a foot back and kicked Talanov in the shoulder, which sent him crashing into the door again. Regaining her balance, Sofia launched herself forward and punched Talanov in the face. Talanov swerved around several parked cars and past an oncoming truck, and when he did, Sofia yanked her black knife from its sheath near her ankle.
Seeing the glint of steel, Talanov stomped on the brakes. The skidding car threw Sofia backward against the dashboard. Talanov then hit the gas and began swerving back and forth again, hoping to throw her out of the car. But Sofia had braced herself securely against the dashboard using her knees against the front edge of the seat.
With the car roaring down the darkened street. Sofia swung the black knife at Talanov. It was a vicious slash, which Talanov deflected downward with the Makarov. The black knife sunk into the seat near his thigh. Sofia yanked the knife out and prepared to plunge it into his neck.
Talanov fired twice – two deafening blasts – and the bullets punched Sofia out the door with a shocked look on her face. In his rearview mirror, he watched her body bounce and flip several times before sliding beneath a parked truck. In the backseat, Noya coughed again. Throwing down the Makarov, Talanov gritted away the pain and gripped the steering wheel with renewed resolve to save Noya’s life.
“Vody,” he heard her whisper before coughing deeply.
Talanov felt a tear run down his cheek. Noya desperately needed water and he had none to give. Never had he felt so helpless. Never had he felt so incapable. Never had he seen such courage and strength as he was seeing in this precious young girl.
Up ahead was another intersection. The hospital was somewhere off to his left. He wasn’t sure where. He just knew he needed to go in that direction. He braced himself for the turn before something caught his eye. Beyond the intersection, on the left-hand side of the street, was a fire hydrant. Water! Roaring straight through the intersection, Talanov hit the brakes and allowed the car to skid into the hydrant and bounce back as the barrel snapped and a powerful geyser of water thundered up into the sky. Jamming the car into park, Talanov jumped out and ran over to the geyser. Ripping out one of his sleeves, he soaked it in the water, and after grabbing a mouthful for himself, ran back to squeeze some into Noya’s mouth. Up and down the street, porch lights began to come on as water pelted down onto rooftops and car tops.
“We’ve got to hurry,” Talanov said, dabbing Noya’s forehead with the wet sleeve before laying it across her neck. He gently lifted her head, took the remainder of the lemon balm out of his pocket and gave it to her to eat.
Her eyes met his.
Don’t die, he thought, touching her forehead with the back of his hand. It was raging with fever. “What I wouldn’t give for a helicopter,” he said.
“A Sikorsky R-4B,” Noya replied, smiling weakly.
Talanov laughed just as another tear rolled down his cheek.
She squeezed his hand. “Do not be afraid. I am not.”
I am, Talanov thought.
“I will always remember you,” she said.
“As the one who got you into this mess.”
“As the one who got me out.” She smiled again. “You are my hero. You taught me to aim for the sky.”
