The Suzuki leaned on its kickstand, front wheel at an angle. The motorcycle had a blue plastic body that swept from the windshield to the exhaust like the cowling of a jet engine. Access to the exhaust pipes was tight; on the other hand, anything added wouldn’t easily be seen. Arkady got on his back and felt the long scab on his back crack under his weight. The Suzuki had a four-into-two-into-one exhaust system running from header pipes to muffler. When he shook the water bottle and sprayed them, the pipes spat back. Although he emptied the bottle on the pipes first, he still burned his fingers when he reached in, ran the wires around them and attached the deodorant can. Nevertheless, he twisted the wires tight. Jaak would have been proud.

By the time Arkady got to his feet, Minin and Kim had disappeared. He wiped his hands on his jacket, shouldered the canvas bag and followed their trail to the house. He saw the curtains in his window shift.

Minin had composed a grin. He let Arkady enter the apartment and close the door before popping out of the bedroom hall with the huge Stechkin he had waved outside Rudy’s apartment. A Stechkin was a machine pistol like a Skorpion but not as ugly. In fact, it was the best-looking part of Minin.

The closet opened at Arkady’s back and Kim stepped out. He had a face as flat as a jack of spades, and he had a Malysh, the same weapon he had carried to protect Rudy so long ago. He must have had it tucked inside his leather jacket. Arkady was impressed. It was like facing artillery.

Minin said, “Give me the bag.”

“No.”

Minin said, “Give it to me or I’ll kill you.”

Arkady held the bag to his chest. “The painting inside is worth millions of dollars. You don’t want to put holes in it. It’s fragile. If I even fall on it, it will be trash. How would you like to explain that to the city prosecutor? Also, I don’t want to undermine your authority, Minin, but I can’t think of anything more stupid than putting a target between two automatic weapons.” He asked Kim, “Can you?”

Kim moved to the side.

“This is your final warning,” Minin said.

Arkady kept the bag cradled to his chest while he opened the refrigerator. Something like moss had grown out the top of the kefir bottle. He shut the door on the smell.

“I’m curious, Minin. How do you think getting this painting will safeguard the Party’s sacred mission?”

“The painting belongs to the Party.”

“So much does. Are you going to pull the trigger or not?”

Minin let the gun hang. “It doesn’t matter whether I shoot you. As of today you’re dead.”