He missed Kolya more than he’d anticipated. Kolya had been the one to get both of them out of those tunnels when the detonation had proved too much for the brittle limestone ceiling and the whole thing had come down on them with a groan and the clinking of breaking stalactites. Andrej wouldn’t have found his way back without his cheat sheet, but Kolya’s memory was better than GPS even in pitch-black darkness. Kolya hadn’t understood why Andrej had chosen to go back to New York with Mariya and Anton before the military could rally and snatch them all up, but someone had to tie up all the loose ends. Someone had to honor Misha and his father by showing up at their funerals, take care of the money issues, and make sure none of the vultures took off with Misha’s favorite guns.

So Andrej sat through the wake and the memorial service and then the burial. He said his prayers and gave his condolences. He hugged Mariya and told her Misha was proud of her. He looked Anton straight in the eyes and shook his hand and he realized, much to his surprise, that he wasn’t afraid of his old teacher anymore. Didn’t want to take him on, maybe, but that bone-deep childhood terror was gone. Apparently, watching your best friend, your brother, face down an antitank missile without a blink of fear put things in a different perspective.

He walked away, then, black duffel bag slung across his back, over the green lawn, between the lines of headstones, to disappear in one of the cemetery’s shady groves—and that was where the NSA agents watching the proceedings lost him.

A few minutes later, a young man dressed casually in jeans and a graphic T-shirt strolled past the office building at the east side of the grounds and out of the gate. There was a small gravel parking lot across the street, framed by trees and bushes, and he made his way over there to a beat-up pickup truck parked beside a muscle car.

Kolya was leaning against the muscle car, looking too cool for his pants, as usual.

Two very familiar men were leaning against the truck, comfortably close, matching cat-got-the-cream smiles on their handsome faces. They looked like they’d gotten laid very recently and the sex had been pretty damn fantastic. Lucky bastards.

“Yes,” Andrej said wryly, “it was a beautiful service. I think the wailing women were paid by your mother, though. Also, your sister is all kinds of scary.”

Misha beamed at him. “She’s taking over?”

“Like a boss,” Andrej confirmed. He slipped the duffel bag off his shoulder. “Got something for you,” he said, and tossed Misha his guns.