— Alina fell asleep, — she said, sitting down nearby. — Temperature is normal, breathing evenly. Seems to be recovering.
— Good.
She was silent, then asked:
— What were you doing here all day?
— Preparing.
— For what?
— For war.
I showed her the pits, tripwires, abatis. Explained how each trap works. Vera listened carefully, nodded.
— Where did you learn this?
— Life taught me. Army, work, forest. It all came in handy.
— And shooting?
— Shooting too. Master of sports in shooting, by the way. In my youth.
She whistled.
— You’re a serious man, Nikolai Petrovich.
— Whatever I am.
We were silent. It was getting dark fast. Here, in the gorge, night came earlier than above.
— Listen, — said Vera suddenly. — I didn’t tell you something.
— What?
— About myself. About what I did before the zone. — I turned to her. In the twilight, her face seemed carved from stone. Hard cheekbones, straight nose, stubborn chin. — I wasn’t always a criminal, — she said. — Before husband and daughter… Before it happened… I worked. In security.
— In what security?
— Serious one. PMC “Rubicon”, maybe you heard? Guarded businessmen, bankers, politicians. I was a hand-to-hand combat instructor. And shooting too. Worked for ten years until I gave birth to my daughter. Then left. focused on family. And then… — She waved her hand.
I looked at her in a new way. So that’s where the posture comes from. This composure. This calmness under pressure. Not just a convict with tattoos. A professional.
— And how did you… — I hesitated. — How did you kill…
She chuckled.
— Simple. Came to his house when my daughter was in the hospital. He opened, thought it was his mother-in-law. And I… Had a hammer in my bag. Construction one, heavy. One blow was enough. — She said it so casually that shivers ran down my spine. — Don’t regret it, — she added. — Not for a second. He deserved it.
— I believe you.
— And here’s what I want to say, Nikolai Petrovich. Tomorrow, when they come, I will be nearby. Not in the cave, not with Alina. Next to you. At the position.
— You don’t have to.
— I have to. Mine and Alina’s lives are at stake. You got into this because of us. So don’t argue.
I wanted to object. Wanted to say it’s dangerous. That she is a woman. That without her Alina is lost. But looked into her eyes and stayed silent. There was such determination there that arguing was useless.
— Fine, — I said. — Forgot how to shoot yet?
— We’ll check.
At night we took turns keeping watch. Me the first half, Vera — the second. Uglyum wandered back and forth, sniffing, listening. It was quiet. Only the wind rustled in the crowns, and somewhere an eagle owl hooted. Towards morning I dozed off and immediately woke up from the touch of Vera’s hand.
— Gromov, hear that?
I listened. Far away. Very far. Barely distinguishable rumble.
— I hear. Wake Alina. Into the cave. And keep heads down.
Vera nodded and disappeared into the darkness.
I took a position on the slope just above the gorge neck. Everything is visible from here – the path, pits, tripwires. The carbine lay in my hands familiarly, like an extension of the body. Heart beat evenly. No fear. Only clarity, cold, ringing. Eight professionals with thermal imagers, with weapons, with equipment, with orders to kill. And here – me. One old ranger with a carbine and a dog. Let’s see who wins.
They appeared at dawn. First I saw movement at the edge of the forest, three hundred meters from the entrance to the gorge. Then silhouettes. One, two, five… Eight people. In a chain. Moving cautiously. Moving professionally. Covering each other, not bunching up. I pressed to the sight. The optics on the “Tiger” are good, four-power, faces clearly visible. Young, hard, focused. Camouflage, vests, assault rifles. Serious guys. Not cops, those don’t walk like that.
Tall, grey-haired. The same one who came to the lodge. Fish eyes, thin lips. Shatun, I presume. Commander…
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