Chapter 8 - The Falling Glass
Alexi’s eyes flicked down instantly.
Nikolai had shifted his weight onto his left back heel—a tactical stance used to brace against the recoil of a short-barreled weapon drawn from a shoulder holster.
Before Saranov could give the verbal order, Alexi grabbed Mara by the arm, dragging her down behind the heavy mahogany table just as the sharp, muffled crack-crack of a suppressed pistol shattered the quiet dining room.
Wood splinters exploded off the back of Alexi’s chair.
"Kirill!" Alexi barked.
Kirill fired three rapid shots across the dining room. One hit Nikolai in the shoulder, knocking the giant back against the glass display case containing thousand-dollar bottles of wine. The glass exploded in a shimmering waterfall of green and red.
Saranov scrambled backward, dropping his napkin, shouting in panicked Russian. "Get the briefcase! Get out!"
Alexi pulled a black handgun from beneath his coat, his body moving with lethal, terrifying precision. He kept one hand firmly on Mara’s waist, shielding her body with his own as he aimed over the edge of the overturned table.
Crack.
Lev dropped the silver briefcase as a bullet pierced his thigh, screaming in agony as he collapsed near the grand piano.
"Stay down!" Alexi commanded Mara, his voice close to her ear, surprisingly steady amidst the chaos.
"I'm down!" Mara gasped, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs, her hands covered in wood dust and broken glass.
Saranov didn't wait for Nikolai. He abandoned his men and sprinted toward the service exit behind the kitchen doors. Nikolai, bleeding heavily from his shoulder, managed to shove Kirill into a marble pillar, using his momentum to smash through the emergency exit glass and disappear down the stairwell into the fog.
In less than forty seconds, the restaurant fell completely silent again, save for the low, agonizing groans of Lev lying near the piano and the hiss of a broken water line in the pantry.
Alexi stood up slowly, scanning the room, his gun still raised. He looked down at Mara, his eyes assessing her from head to toe.
"Are you hit?" he demanded sharply.
Mara pushed herself up, her knees trembling violently, her black dress torn slightly at the hem. "No... no, I'm okay."
She looked at the shattered glass, the blood pooling near the grand piano, and the bullet holes carved into the antique ceiling of Ardane.
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The reality of the world she had stepped into crashed over her like an icy wave.
"We need to leave," Alexi said, grabbing her hand, his grip tight and warm. "Now."
