*  *  *  *  *

Ivar had aimed his shot at Sergi's thigh and had hit him in the fleshy outside part of his leg.  It was a superficial hit and it just knocked Sergi down for a few moments.  Sergi looked at Ivar with such an angry expression that Ivar knew if looks could kill he would be dead.  But Ivar was appalled at Sergi's behavior, which confirmed his distrust of the Russian KGB agent.  He was stupid and dangerous.  He watched as Sergi limped away to the jogging path.  He thought that eventually, when he had cooled down, Sergi would go back to the car.  He couldn't nurse-maid a stupid Russian now.  Ivar had to tend to the two brothers. 

Ivar watched as Stephan glanced at his wounded shoulder with disbelief, then doubled over in his chair and threw up all over his shoes.  Ivar put his gun away and started slowly walking toward the two men, holding both arms out to show he was not threatening them. 

Now his cover might be blown, and that was a shame, Ivar thought.  All because of that stupid jerk Sergi.  Ivar hoped he wasn't going after the women, but he couldn't possibly catch them with his leg wound.

Ivar walked over to Alexander, helped him up and brushed him off.  Then Ivar examined Stephan's shoulder.  A big chunk of flesh was missing, but the wound was not mortally dangerous, just very painful.  Still, Ivar had to get Stephan to a doctor right away. 

Ivar explained that he could call an ambulance, but then the police would become involved and would have to make reports.  Or, he could take them to a private doctor, which would probably be better, because the police wouldn't be involved.  He watched Alexander thinking it over. 

Ivar didn't want the police.  A gun shot wound would cause an extensive investigation.  It would, of course, be covered up by his organization, but reports would mean that more people would get involved. 

Alexander agreed that he did not want a police investigation. 

Ivar asked Alexander to give him the keys to the van.  He would drive it over here for them.  Alexander handed him the keys without comment.  Then Ivar started jogging himself, down the path to get the van. 

Ivar hoped that Malcolm had been close enough to get an idea of what had happened here.  Shooting a fellow agent was not exactly company policy.  And he was going to be in deep shit with the KGB.