65. Mikhail

"Dante!" Viviana shrieks.

I don't pause to think. There isn't time for it. I lunge forward and slam my hand into Dante's back to knock him out of the path of the car.

He's small and he goes flying, skidding across the concrete ten feet away. I whip around and wrap my arm around Viviana, yanking her back in the opposite direction just before the car careens into the central wall of the parking garage.

Viviana and I hit the ground with a pained grunt. The ruined car is hissing behind me and the air smells like gasoline. Somewhere, the remote-controlled dinosaur is still roaring.

Viviana shoves off of me and crawls towards the car on her hands and knees. I realize she's looking under the wheels. "Dante!"

"He was out of the way. He's okay."

He's okay right now. But the next few seconds will determine if it stays that way.

The windows of the car are deeply tinted. I can't even make out a human shape in the driver's seat. Was this a freak accident? Was it intentional? Until I know, I'm not taking any chances.

I rise to my feet, gun aimed at the windows. "Get out of the fucking car!"

The doors don't open. Nothing happens.

From the other side of the car, just out of sight, Dante starts to cry.

Viviana gasps and runs forward, but I grab her around the waist. "Let go of me!" she cries out, scratching at my hands. "We have to get him!"

I shake my head and point towards a concrete pillar behind us. "I will. You need to get behind cover before?—"

The order is lost in a barrage of gunfire.

Viviana screams, and I duck her down and run towards the pillar. My heart is pulled in two directions—towards Viviana and Dante—but I'm only in a position to help one of them.

Bullets embed themselves in the concrete in front of us, whizzing past our heads. The air is thick with dust and Viviana starts coughing as we duck behind the wall.

I stop for half a second to breathe before I press Viviana flat against the pillar. "Stay. Here."

I don't have time to make sure she heeds the warning. I spin around and dart towards the car to my right.

A bullet deflates the rear tire, so I squeeze myself between the concrete wall and the hood of the car. I need to get to Dante, but drawing attention from him is effective, too. I'd rather have the guns aimed at me so he can get away.

"You let your guard down, little brother," a familiar voice sneers. I peek over the hood and, through a haze of cement dust and gunsmoke, see Trofim standing next to the open driver door. His gun is pointed at me. "You let yourself get distracted by my fiancée."

Trofim is so fixed on me that he doesn't notice Anatoly and Raoul tucked into the elevator alcove behind him. They're hidden beneath the crunched hood of his car, but I can see them from my angle.

The two of them whisper something to each other. Raoul crouches down, moving in the direction of Dante. But Anatoly's sights are set on the back of Trofim's head. It's not hard to imagine what his plan is.

Trofim fires again. The shot glances off the side view mirror and I duck behind the front bumper. "This is what I'm saying—distracted. It won't even be fun killing you."

A volley of shots punch through the windows of the car I'm hiding behind. Glass rains down on me and I shake it out of my hair.

"Hurry up, Anatoly," I mutter.

I could have dealt with Trofim by now, but I don't want to risk hitting Anatoly as he creeps up behind him. Or face Anatoly's wrath for killing Trofim before he got the chance.

Dante is still crying. I pray it's just over a scraped knee and nothing worse.

I crawl to the passenger side of the car and peek over the hood. Trofim pivots to shoot just as Anatoly rises up like the Grim Reaper over his shoulder. Anatoly raises his fist like a hammer and brings the full force of it down on the top of Trofim's head.

Trofim's eyes roll back in his head and his legs buckle. He crumples to the ground.

"Ah, shit," Anatoly moans. "He wasn't supposed to pass out."

I come out from behind my cover just as Viviana screams. "There's someone else in the car!"

I follow her finger back to the smoking car. I can see Dante huddling against the wall next to the crash, his entire body shaking and the dinosaur toy still clutched in his hands.

Then the passenger door flies open. I can't see Dante anymore. All I can see is a man darting out of the car, headed straight for him.

"Dante!" I break into a run, but I won't get there in time. It's too far. The man is too close.

I'm not going to make it.

But I don't have to.

Raoul leaps over the hood of the car, landing like a fucking superhero between Dante and the man, who I can now see is Agostino.

Then a gunshot echoes through the garage.

For one second, I think it was Raoul's gun. He's holding it in his hand, after all. But his barrel is pointed at the ground. And blood is spreading across the front of Raoul's gray shirt.

And the gun in Agostino's grasp is smoking.

Raoul's eyes go wide a second before he collapses to the ground.