He looked around. “Selma, are you familiar with the way a Czech Škorpion automatic pistol works?”

Selma said, “I did look up the manual online after Remi’s problem in Russia.”

“Good. We seem to have five of them. Check the magazines and see how much ammunition is left, then consolidate it. We need to have a couple with full magazines. They might buy us some extra time.”

“What about the boiling water?”

“Turn down the burners for now so the pots stay hot but the water isn’t boiling. We’ll get it boiling again if they start moving the safes.”

He turned to Pete. “Take my rifle and guard the windows. Those cherry pickers might reach this high.”

“Where will you be?”

“Remi and I are going up to the roof. Selma? Are there any matches around?”

“In the kitchen downstairs.”

“Great,” he said.

Remi said, “I’ve got some in my backpack.” She went to her closet and came out with a small waterproof container of stick matches, two bottles of champagne from the small refrigerator in the closet, and two of her cotton halter tops.

Sam saw her and said, “You figured it out.”

“Of course I did. We’ll have to pour out the Dom Perignon champagne.” She handed him the two bottles.

He went to the sink in his bathroom, popped the two corks, and poured the champagne into the bathroom sink. “I hate to see this go.”

“If we make it, there are still five bottles in the refrigerator, and I think three of Cristal.”

They went to the back of Sam’s walk-in closet. There was a set of flat rungs like the steps of a stepladder running up the back wall and, above them, a round hatch that locked with a lever.

He climbed up, opened the hatch, and looked around on the roof. “All clear.”

Remi handed him the matches, the two champagne bottles, and the two cotton tops. He set them on the roof and climbed out after them. He stayed low as he ducked under the awning over the gas generator that had been running since the invaders had cut the outside electric power.

Sam picked up the funnel that he used when filling the generator’s gas tank, stuck it in the neck of the first champagne bottle, and used one of the red five-gallon cans he kept there to fill the bottle with gasoline. Then he filled the other.

Remi appeared at his side carrying the second .308 rifle. “Need cover?”

“I might,” he said. “Just hold on a minute while I see.”