Page 53 of Under His Protection

The Russian woman, already brandishing a gun, nods feverishly. “Is now payback time, da?”

She snatches a set of keys and a phone of one of Cole’s men, a burly guy with a huge belt of tools, like a janitor’s worst nightmare. His eyes are wide, sweat streaming down his face.

We move fast, a ragtag parade of the wounded and scared. The spots of the warehouse lights cast shadows that twist and morph, making the stacked shipping containers look like metal monsters. I keep my gun on Cole, finger hovering over the trigger, ready to fire again if he so much as twitches. He’s bent over a crate, one hand on his side. Alexander is leaning heavily on me, his breath rattling like a dying engine. “Michelle–” he pants, doubling over in pain.

He’s hurt badly.

We are at the double doors leading out of the space; they are already open, and cool air is seeping in. As we burst through, Cole, his face a mask of rage, struggles to his feet, clutching his bleeding side. “You won’t get away with this!” he screams, voice raw. “I’ll find you! I’ll hunt you down! You’ll all pay!”

His threats are lost in the rush of our escape. We shove through the doors, Katerina bringing up the rear. Her gun is now aimed at Cole and his remaining men.

“Go, go, go!” I shout, pushing the girls ahead of me with one hand, the gun, and Alexander in the other.

“Zara, Anya. Help me with Alexander,” I say.

I need to make sure Cole and the men are locked in.

Nodding, a fire blazing in their eyes, they respond. “Da,” Anya says, pushing back her hair and grabbing Alexander from the waist, careful of the gunshot wound.

I glance down at him, struggling with sweat beading on his brow. “Come on, Alexander, move. Just a little further.”

I hesitate, looking back at the warehouse. “We can’t leave Michelle,” I say, my voice cracking like fragile glass.

Katerina grabs my arm, eyes fierce. “You want to die? Devushka die? Here?” She shakes her head. “We must go.”

A lump forms in my throat, but I nod, swallowing hard. “Let’s go,” I whisper.

Once everyone is out, I turn and aim the gun through the narrow gap in the door.

“Lock it!” I shout, my voice bouncing off the walls. One of the girls, hands shaking, fumbles with the heavy bolts, securing the doors with a resounding clang.

There’s no time to breathe. “Move!”

The corridors of the building stretch before us, a labyrinth of steel and concrete, a high-tech prison designed to keep people in, to lock away secrets. Katerina’s silver hair is pulled back in a now-messy bun, and she walks with a slight limp.

What is this place? It looks like head-of-operations for a big organization. The Raven, or shall I call him Cole’s work, probably.

After what feels like an eternity, we reach another heavy metal door, its surface scarred with rust and graffiti. It looks like a forgotten gateway to a forgotten world.

Katerina pulls out the keys, her hands shaking. The lock clicks open, the door groaning as it swings open, revealing a narrow alleyway. The cool and damp night air hits me like a punch to the face, carrying the scents of rain and exhaust fumes. The city lights, a blurred rainbow of colors, beckon from the far end of the alley.

We burst into the wet street, and Katerina locks the door behind us. I lean against the brick wall for a moment, my body trembling, I feel like a violin string stretched taut. Alexander slumps beside me, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. I look at him, then back at the locked door, a heavy steel barrier now separating us from the nightmare we’ve left behind. The reality of what we’ve done crashes over me, a tidal wave of emotions.

“We’re out— what now?” I ask.

But even as the words leave my mouth, a wave of grief crushes my chest. Michelle. Her lifeless face and her vacant eyes haunt my thoughts, a ghost flickering in the corner of my mind.

“We had to leave her,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else. “If we stayed, we all would have died.”

We have escaped, but at what cost?

Chapter 19

The Real Escape

The night air is a cold slap to the face. The city lights a dizzying blur. I’m still pressed against the rough brick wall of the alley; my body heaves with tremors, exhaustion, and adrenaline. The smell of blood clings to my clothes.

Michelle.

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