"State Security!"

The house supposedly occupied by Diya Sorky was indeed an old one, with a definite tsarist feel. It had probably been the home of a low-ranking landowner before falling into ruin during the Cold War. It provided only basic necessities, enough to not be classified as a cave.

A pair of cold, emotionless eyes watched the two women as they probed the house. Its owner lined up the iron sights of a shotgun in their direction and fired in their general direction. "Who's that?" he shouted. "Who's in my house?"

The two crept silently towards the wall separating them from the shooter. At that point, they began to communicate through lip reading.

Got a mirror?

What do you need that for?

Checking out the opposition.

The table in front of you. Would that suit your purpose?

Carter shrugged and took the old mirror lying on the table. Moving slowly towards the door leading to the other room, she placed the mirror inside a broken glass pane. The reflection of a single man wearing the baggy clothes of a plant worker holding a shotgun stared back at her. Suddenly, he faced the mirror, and it disappeared into a thousand fragments. "Holy—!"

Only one guy inside, she told Rosie.

Then how come has he gotten us two cowering behind the wall?

I'm ending this now. And don't ask. You don't want to know, I swear. Taking the largest shard of the mirror, Carter stuck it into the door.

Diya Sorky, who was busy reloading his weapon, never saw the shard until the final moment. As he turned to look at the door, a bright object overloaded his retinas, causing him to turn blind for a few moments.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot! Don't kill me."

Diya Sorky was a sorry sight in person. His blond hair was already beginning to gray in a few places, and he had a week's worth of stubble. But his most surprising feature was a missing right thumb. It was astonishing enough that it made them wonder how he could have fired a gun in that condition.

"You okay, Rose?" asked Carter. She nodded in reply, and then suddenly pushed Sorky down on his bed using the barrel of her gun. The man moaned and whimpered.

"I don't know nothing," he said.

"I didn't ask you a question yet," said Carter. "Are you lying to me already? How did you know about the railguns? Were you involved in the Capitol bombing? Stop lying. Stop lying!"

"Do you know anything?" asked Rosie. "I am going to be nice about it. Do you know anything?" All she got a shake of the head.

"I don't know nothing!" shouted Sorky. "I don't do the research, man! Black man do the research, man! He come to me and told me to contact train driver and tell him job!"

"What's his name?" asked Carter. "The black man! What's his name?"

Sorky was about to reply when a cellphone rang. "It's his," said Rosie, taking a gray, beaten-up unit. "Answer it," she commanded Sorky in Russian.

"Hello?" he said. It was followed by a minute-long conversation, with Sorky nodding and agreeing with whatever the person on the other end was saying. Finally, he nodded and ended the call.

"It was train driver Ballall," he told his audience of two. "He call to tell me he take job. I told him to wait for instruction."

"What are you supposed to do after that?" asked Carter.

Sorky didn't answer. Instead, he took his cellphone and dialed another number. "Hello, sir? It's Diya. Ballall will take the job."

"What did he tell you?"

"I take my instruction from him directly. Not over the phone. He think is tapped."

"What are you waiting for? Get fixed up and go to him. And remember," Carter added, "no funny moves. If you so much as think of telling your employer you're being followed, you'll be spending the rest of your life in a gulag. I can do that, you know."

Sorky did his job as normally as he can, but thoughts of life in Russia's labor camps made his almost do it worse. Nervously, he made his way to an apartment block and entered. Following closely, the two were able to catch the address the manager gave Sorky. They waited for a few minutes before Sorky returned, clutching a white envelope. He went out, trying very hard not to look at them.

Sorky went to Ballall's apartment next, where he disappeared for another minute before he was finally beckoned into a waiting car. Its occupants were the two women following him.

"What did you hand over to Ballall?" asked Carter.

"Instructions."

"Did you see the contents?"

"No. It was already inside envelope when sir give it to me."

"What's his name? Your boss, Diya. You were about to tell me when all this began."

"I don't know his name, but he calls himself Timofey."

"Thank you, Mr. Sorky. Now, I would like to ask just one more favor. Can we borrow your computer?"

Sorky can only look at them in mute surprise.