Daria
I watch as the small convoy heads up the north-facing hill toward Andrei’s place. Given the number of SUVs besides the one black limousine, I’m positive it’s my father and his men.
Coming to ambush Andrei.
When my people are in there.
Fuck.
I’ve got to warn them. I move to get out of the truck. Pain shoots up through my chest, so sharp it literally takes my breath away. Tears fill my eyes. Goddamn it. How am I going to get over the wall and to Mack and my girls if I can’t even get out of the fucking truck?
I fumble with the comms unit, cursing my left hand for its lack of dexterity. “Mack? Come in, Mack.”
Nothing.
“Mack? Al?”
“Roxie?”
“Jen? Anyone?”
The comms unit crackles in my ear. All I get is what might be voices, but they are too muted by static to understand.
I look around the truck, trying to find something, anything, that can help me notify them danger is on the way. Grabbing my cell phone, I set it in my lap and hit the speed dial button to call Mack first; it goes straight to voicemail. Trying to reach Al garners the same results. I don’t even try Jen or Roxie, knowing the same will happen.
Fuck.
Think, Daria, think.
I call my father.
When he doesn’t answer, I immediately call him back. This time he picks up.
“Daria.”
“Father, don’t do this, please.”
“Don’t do what, Daria?” he asks.
“Don’t storm Andrei’s. Not right now.”
“How can you possibly know what I’m planning to do? And especially at this moment?”
“Well, for one, you told me earlier that you planned to do it.”
“And?”
I sigh. “And I’m watching you.”
His anger worms its way through the phone, filling me with dread and regret.
“Defying me once again, I see.” His voice is hard and cold.
I remain quiet and watch as the convoy miraculously slows and stops before the turn at the first crest of the hills leading to Andrei’s.
“Are you inside the compound?” he asks.
I hesitate. Shit.
