I pick up my glass and sip, fake-laughing to keep up the charade of unawareness. "Where?" I ask through my teeth.
Alex smiles back, "At our 4:00. I counted three. They're armed."
The agency! They've sent a team to recover me!
Before I can even process this thought Alex says, "I don't know who they're with. They're not mine. They're not yours."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Kiss me."
"What? Madison, I don't think now is the time-"
"Just kiss me. Roll me onto my back, kiss the left side of my neck so that I can turn my head in that direction and take a look."
"Clever girl," he takes my glass and slinks toward me, his lips finding mine. Cradling the back of my head, he lays me down on the blanket and kisses me sensuously. I wrap my arms around his neck, as he moves over to nibble my left ear and then down to my neck. As he does, I turn my head. Not closing my eyes completely, I scan the trees quickly.
I see them. One. Two. Three. They armed. Heavily. They're not from the agency.
I see one of the men light a cigarette. The sun reflects off of the gold filter. The rest of the cigarette is dark.
Sobranies.
He's missing the ends of his middle, ring and pinky fingers.
I smile and whisper into Alex's ear, trying to look as if I'm moaning rather than talking, "Igor Zuyev. Russian. He's not here to join us for wine and cheese. He's here to kill us both."
Alex's mouth moves back up my ear, as his hand moves down over my breast, "We have to get back to the bike. My gun is there."
"You only have one?"
"I wasn't expecting to run into anybody out here. I'm going to act as if you've angered me and pull you to the bike. It'll catch them off-guard."
I haven't removed my eyes from them. They're just watching us.
Fuckers are probably getting off on it.
I nod, as Alex sits up and says, "What!? How dare you, you little slut!? Get up!" He yanks me up by my arm, much less roughly than he made it appear. "Let's go! Now!"
Kicking over the wine glasses, he pulls me toward the bike. I don't even glance over to see what Igor and his men are doing. I don't want to give away that we're onto them. We march quickly through the woods, as Alex whispers to me, "The gun is in the storage compartment. I'll grab it and climb on behind you."
"I think I should take the gun. I know Igor. This isn't the first time he's tried to kill me," I argue.
"If you sit on the back, you could get hit."
"So could you."
"I'd rather I am hit than you, Madison. Any day."
"That's sweet, but trust me. I've got this."
"How can I argue with you?" I can hear rather than see the smirk on his face.
We get to the bike and I go straight for the gun.
"Going somewhere?" I hear a deep voice with a Russian accent behind us. I turn to find Igor leaning against a tree trunk.
Cocky fucker.
"Actually, yes, Igor. We would invite you, but then I'd have to kill you," I lock eyes with him, daring him.
He laughs heartily, flicking his cigarette away. "ΠΊΡΠ°ΜΡΠ½ΡΠΉ, please," he pulls out a huge hunting knife. "If you come willingly, I'll kill your companion first so that he doesn't have to listen to your screams."
"I hate to disappoint you, but Alexander loves to hear me scream." I see this made them uncomfortable. They all look at Alex, and then at each other.
They know the name as well as I did a few days ago .
Alex smiles. Without warning, he pulls a knife from the back of his pants and throws it at one of Igor's men. It goes right between his eyes. Without a sound, he falls to the ground, dead.
Fuck.
Alex jumps on the bike and turns the ignition, "Get on, Madison!" With the gun in my hand, I jump on. As we pull away, Igor and his cohort start running after us, opening fire. Not wanting to waste ammo, I resist the urge to fire back.
Alex shouts over the sound of the engine as we roar down the dirt road, "There might be more of them! I'm heading for the house and my guards!" Alex's killer instinct and precision with a knife, the fear his very name instilled in our would-be murderers, the vibration still rippling through the plug and into my body...
I'm so turned on right now.
I hear motors behind us. Out of the trees, two dirt bikes come flying and land on the road behind us. "Alex, they're behind us!" I yell.
Alex checks his mirrors and, without a word, gives the engine more gas. I draw the gun and aim carefully, waiting for the perfect moment to fire. I squeeze the trigger.
FUCK!
We hit a rock and my bullet goes soaring into the trees.
I take aim again.
I won't miss this time.
They swerve back and forth, trying to avoid being targeted. One of them draws a gun and fires. Alex, who's observing in the mirror, swerves quickly. The rider is caught off guard, having missed us. I take the opportunity, take aim and fire. I watch the glass of his helmet smash as I hit him perfectly. He falls with the bike.
One to go. It has to be Igor.
"Hold on!" Alex shouts. I grip Alex, gun in hand, as we lean hard into the left turn. We're back on the paved road. "Take him out, Madison!" he orders.
I draw the gun. I want this to hurt. It's personal. I aim for the tire. Igor pulls out a gun and fires, not aiming. I feel a sharp sting on my left forearm, as I scream out in pain, "Ahhh!" Alex tries to turn to look at me, "What's wrong!? Madison, what's wrong!?"
"Nothing. Don't stop. I'm okay!" I shout.
Gripping Alex as tightly as I can with my left arm, I lift my right and aim carefully. Igor throws off his helmet and smiles at me, pulling his gun up again. I smile back, my own way of saying 'Fuck you,' and I squeeze the trigger. I hold my breath as the bullet sails through the air, waiting to see if my shot is good enough. Within a half a heartbeat, Igor's bike jerks sideways and flips him forward, as my bullet rips through his front tire. I watch as he goes tumbling over the cliffside.
"Got him," I shout to Alex.
"Good girl. Well done!" he shouts back. I put the safety on and push the gun into the waist of my skirt, pulling the jacket over it. I wrap my right arm around Alex and hold on tightly. My left isn't gripping so well any more. I look over at my left arm. There's a hole in the leather jacket just below my shoulder. I can see traces of blood where it tore.