Chapter 3
All was going well. The machine was slowly, very slowly, opening the door. No one had been hurt, other than the man who'd dropped something on his foot. Then came the power failure.
The doorway didn't close, but it did pause opening. Alexei proposed simply slowing down the pace to reduce the energy expenditure, but Grigori wanted no more delays. So he ordered Alexei and one of the mechanics, Smirnov, to come with him.
Alexei wasn't trained as a mechanic – his physics work was more theoretical – but he had learned a thing or two about engines from an uncle who'd helped maintain tanks during the war. And while spending more time in Grigori's company was never appealing, it would be his first night outside since he'd come to America. He decided to relish it.
It was night, so he couldn't make out much of the landscape, but many of the businesses had bright, colorful signs. He made a game of trying to guess what kinds of things might be sold there. The "7-11" had gas pumps, so it must sell auto supplies. He already knew McDonald's sold food, and "Walmart" looked large enough that it must sell everything. That must be where the rich went to get the things unavailable to everyone else, he decided, because there was simply no way so many people in this tiny town could own automobiles. He turned the word over on his tongue. "Vallmart." Grigori gave him a sharp look in the rearview mirror, and Alexei fell silent.
The problem with the generator was easy enough to diagnose. Smirnov could have it fixed in an hour, which made Alexei feel slightly superfluous. He thought about going upstairs to drink in the night air, but decided against it. Grigori had ordered them not to leave the basement, and he didn't want to risk punishment.
They were doing well until the large American man pointed a gun at them. He said something in English. Smirnov looked at Alexei, clearly hoping the more educated man could answer. But he hadn't studied English in almost twenty years, and the few words he remembered deserted him at that moment. He spoke as calmly as he could in Russian, to keep the American busy until Grigori returned to save them, but the woman heard the heavy footsteps. A man Grigori's size never had to bother with stealth. The American man handed the woman handcuffs and must have told her to chain Alexei and Smirnov, because that's what she did. Then she hunkered down behind the generator next to Alexei. She was scared, nearly as scared as he was, but she didn't make a sound. The man took up a position behind them, with his gun on Alexei to ensure he stayed quiet. From the muffled sounds he heard, he guessed they'd gagged Smirnov.
Alexei couldn't see what happened next, but he guessed the American man was threatening Grigori. That was a mistake. If he wanted to kill him, then he should have done it before Grigori knew he was there. Then he heard bursts of machine gun fire. The bullets ricocheted all around, and he tried to dodge them, but there was nowhere to go with his hands chained to the generator. The woman ran behind the generator, probably to hide. He didn't blame her.
Then the bullets stopped, and all he could hear were grunts of pain – maybe one of them was from Grigori? The American man was doing better than he'd thought. The woman yelled, and then she and the man came whipping around the generator.
"Come on, Smirnoff, you're coming with us," the man said as he unshackled one of Alexei's wrists and put the cuff on his own. Alexei tried to hold back, not to run with him, but then Grigori's bullets were flying at him. He ran up the stairs after the man, who was still yelling at him.
The bullets tore through the bed at the top of the stairs, and Alexei tried to jump away, but he was still shackled to a bigger man. The man threw the wardrobe on the bed – good thinking – and they ran to the truck. The man shoved Alexei into the backseat and climbed in, all the while screaming at the woman, which couldn't have helped. After a few seconds that lasted an eternity, she started the truck and they drove away, just as Grigori was exiting the house, shooting into the car. He blew out the windows, but it wasn't enough to stop them. Alexei could imagine his fury as the car disappeared over a hill. The Americans would meet a terrible end when he found them.