Erich stared at her as if she was crazy. Both men were twice her size not to mention, armed to the teeth. "Really, Caitlyn..." he began even as she hissed at him to shut up.
"Do as I say, Max or when we get out of here, I'm going to kick your ass as well," she said, hoping he understood that he shouldn't use her real name.
She turned back to the two behemoths that stood between her and the door outside. "Gentlemen," she said in greeting. "Which of you would like to go first?"
The one in the front pulled his gun, holding it out so that it pointed at her.
"You're a crazy one," he said, then stared down at his hand that was now empty. Cat had moved so quickly he hadn't seen her take the gun. "Fuck, bitch, give me that back."
Caitlyn smiled nicely, quickly hitting the button to drop out the clip as well as ratcheting the bullet out of the barrel, then with a move that had the first guard hollering, she slipped the barrel of the gun off, making the weapon useless. Tossing it back to the man, she smiled congenially. "Happy?"
"I'll be happy when I feel your bones cracking in my hands, Promudobliadskaja pizdoprojebina."
"You'd best be glad I don't speak, what was that, Russian? I'd have to kick your ass for that."
"He called you a fucking bitch," Erich called to her, setting the small metallic box on the chair before stepping up next to it and slowly lifting the painting down. It was heavy, the wooden frame weighing close to fifty pounds.
"You speak Russian?" Cat asked, impressed.
"My mom had to work when me and my brother were kids, she left us with a nice Russian lady that lived down the block."
Caitlyn grimaced as the guard whose gun she'd demolished decided to take the first shot. Ducking under his ham-handed swing, she came up, hitting him with a one-two punch that was pure poetry in motion. "Sounds like she wasn't so nice if you picked up those kinds of words."
"No, she was nice, she heard that kind of language come out of our mouths, we got them washed out with soap. It was her son that taught us the rest of it. It was quite the education. Dimitri could always get a hold of the good stuff," he said with a laugh, taking a small screwdriver from her roll of tools and using it to pull out the staples that held the painting to the frame. He looked up from his work as a loud crash seemed to rock the floor.
The first guard was on the ground, his hand holding onto his other wrist. "Mandavoshka broke my wrist," he growled at the other guard.
"I'm not going to tell her what you just said," Erich said. "She might try to wash your mouth out with soap."
"There's an idea for another night," Caitlyn said, ducking as the second guard tried to grab her. As he stumbled by, she ducked down and plowed her fist into his stomach. It felt like it was going into a ball of dough. "You definitely need to workout there, porky."
"Maybe you should take him on some of your morning runs," Erich teased as the guard fell to his knees, a low keening sound coming from his mouth.
"Oh, think it'd get you out of coming?"
"My luck isn't that good." He pulled out a final staple, pulling the frame off of the canvass, then he turned his attention to pulling the canvas carefully off the wood it was stretched onto. Caitlyn ducked another roaring swipe from the second guard, grabbing his arm around his thick wrist and using his weight to swing him into one of the thick walnut colored columns in the room.
The guard hit so hard, his bones rattled and a dusting of plaster fell from the ceiling. He took two steps backwards, his hand coming up to steady himself before he shook his head hard, turning back toward Cat, murder in his eyes.
"You fucking bitch," he growled, his tone pure Bronx without the accent of his companion. "I'm gonna kill you for that."
Caitlyn rolled her eyes. "If I only had a nickel for every man who said that to me..."
Erich snorted but continued with what he was doing. He knew better than to try and play he-man with the guards. They'd kick his ass and hand it to him when they threw him out a third floor window. No, Cat was definitely the better at playing this game. He jerked, pulling the painting close against his body as the guard came flying by him, slamming into the fireplace, the rough stone cutting into his skin. He pushed back away from it, shaking his head and flinging drops of blood everywhere before roaring his anger.
"You bout done there?" Caitlyn asked as Erich scuttled away from the huge man.
"Yeah, just a couple more staples and we've got it."
"Don't forget Bambi's little contraption. Leave the wires, just grab the box," she said, slamming her fist into the guard's gut and then pulling his head into her knee.
Erich quickly finished pulling the canvas off the frame and then rolled it tightly, sliding it into the tube that Cat had brought with them. Grabbing Bambi's box, he slipped past where Cat was finishing with the two guards and headed toward the doorway.
Before he could get to the door, it opened and a hand with a gun in it appeared. The gunman couldn't see Erich but he saw Cat. She was a sitting duck.
Erich dropped the tube with the painting, Bambi's box landing on top of the small cylinder. He grabbed the wrist of the gunman with both hands and slammed it against the doorway just as it went off. A sharp burning sensation creased his shoulder, but he didn't have time to worry about it. Balling up his fist, he hit the man twice in the nose, the first blow breaking the cartilage, the second blow sending pieces of it up and into the brain of the man.
The gunman fell at his feet, dead. "Shoot me, will you?" Erich growled, angrily. He flinched when Cat slapped a wad of fabric on his shoulder.
"We try not to kill anyone unless we have to, Mr. Radner," she said softly. "But thanks for saving my life."
The words were spoken gruffly and a little hesitantly, as if she really didn't want to have to speak them. Erich smiled even as he watched her pick up the cylinder and the small black box, stuffing the latter into the pouch at her waist. "Does this mean you've forgiven me?"
"Not a chance," Cat said, her back stiffening.
"Does it at least mean that we can go and have a drink and talk over whatever you think I've done?" he tried again.
"Maybe."
"Well, maybe is a hell of a lot better than no."
There was a burst of static in their ears and then Bambi's voice came over the tiny receivers. "Hope you guys got the painting and are on your way out, we got company. It's the family, their home early."
"Fuck," Cat said succinctly.
"Can't we go out the way we came?" Erich asked.
