Igor lived in the apartment with his wife of forty years. The wife was in the apartment now, and Tatyana saw no reason to involve her in what was about to happen. As far as Tatyana was concerned, that woman had put up with enough in her life. The last thing she needed was to be cleaning Igor’s blood from the carpet.

Tatyana had met her at one of Igor’s social engagements. Those events had always been awkward for Tatyana. She’d spent the night avoiding the wife. She felt guilty about what had happened between her and Igor.

Tatyana knew it was strange that it bothered her, given her job, but it did.

And she thought it was particularly cruel of the men to arrange events like that, where half the women had slept with the husbands of the other half, and all of them knew it.

At the end of the night, Tatyana and Igor’s wife were in the bathroom at the same time. As Tatyana refreshed her lipstick, studiously avoiding eye contact, the wife said, “You shouldn’t be afraid of me, you know. I was you once, and you’ll be me one day, sooner than you think. We’re in the same boat, you and I.”

Tatyana lit another cigarette and looked at her watch again. Five minutes had passed since Igor went up.

If five more passed, she’d have to go up after him.

In her hand was the gun Lance had given her. It was the gun she was given on her very first mission, and she’d carried it on every mission since. She looked at the star carved into the handle. It felt right that it be the gun that finished this final task.

She looked at her watch again. Time was up.

She was about to get out of the car when a figure reappeared inside the building. It was Igor in his long black coat and Tatyana felt a rush of adrenaline. Then she saw that he wasn’t alone. The wife was with him.

That wasn’t good.

He was also carrying a metal case, clunky, with a black handle. It looked like a case a photographer might carry for his equipment.

Igor exited the building with his wife, and they began walking quickly down the street, back in the direction Igor had come from. Tatyana knew they were headed for the metro station.

It was also clear they were in a hurry.

Igor practically dragged his wife down the street.

Tatyana wondered why they had no driver. No car. There was always a car.

She realized it was because he didn’t want anyone knowing he was running. He was scared. He didn’t trust the agency.

The street was lively, lined with bars and restaurants, all of them open and full of patrons.