27. Emory
EMORY
The guard at the basement door is one I haven't seen before, a rotund man with a shaved head who stands with his arms crossed and his back against the wall.
When Rashid left I couldn't sleep. I lay awake stewing over the way I had treated my father and how easily I was able to relate to Rashid, but how easily Batya's mistake made me angry.
I never tried to see it from his side at all, and I feel bad for that.
So I want to speak to him. I approach the guard carefully, hoping he'll step aside, but he shakes his head before I even open my mouth.
"No visitors," he grumbles, flexing his biceps as if that's going to intimidate me. It's annoying, but I don't back down.
"I want to see my father."
"I have orders. Nobody goes down."
The man is being stubborn and mean. If what Rashid said about protecting me is true, it means he wants more from me than just a mother for his child.
Something is growing between us, and it gives me confidence to stand up to this guard, who for all intents and purposes is lower in rank than I am at this point.
"Move out of my way," I order, but he steps between me and the door. Glaring at me.
"Rostov stays locked in the basement.”
"Then lock me in with him," I tell him, cutting him off. "I'm not asking to take him anywhere. I just want to sit with him."
He stares at me for a few seconds, working through whether this is something he's going to get in trouble for.
I stare right back, unblinking. What he will get in trouble for is pissing me off, because if I tell Rashid I wanted to be with my father and his men were stubborn about it, he'll give them an earful or he won't have me in his bed.
"Look, lady, if Krasnov asks, you forced your way in," he says, pulling the key from his belt and unlocking the door. "I'm not losing my job over this. Got it?"
"Fine. Lock it behind me." I watch him fiddle with the key.
I'm not sure how I'm going to ever forgive what my father did, but I see now some of his wisdom—if you can call it that.
A prison with the father of my child, whom I had obviously slept with, is better than a prison with men who want to kill me.
I see that now, but I never gave Batya the time of day to explain.
The guard opens the door and I take the stairs down into the dim basement. The door shuts behind me and I hear the lock turn, but at least I can spend these few minutes with my father. God only knows how many moments he has left, as sick as he is.
Batya's sitting on the cot with his back against the wall. When he sees me his face breaks into a tired smile. He's sicker now, and his liver might be shutting down.
"Em," he says, reaching for my hand as I sit beside him. "You shouldn't be down here."
"How else can I visit with you? I miss you." I take his hand and squeeze it. His skin feels papery and dry and his fingers are cold. "How are you feeling?"
"Better now that you're here." He squeezes back and then reaches under the thin mattress with his free hand and pulls out a phone. It's a cheap prepaid model, the kind the guards carry as burners, and he holds it up for me to see.
"Where did you get that?" I ask him, narrowing my eyes. This isn't good. Why would he want to steal a phone? He wanted me to be here, but he's been acting like he needs to get away from here, and take me with him.
"I lifted it off one of the guards when they brought me food this morning," he says, turning it over in his palm. "The young one with the beard. He left his coat on the chair when he set the tray down and it was in the pocket."
"Batya, if Rashid finds out you have that he will kill you." God, he's going to kill Krispin too. This is his phone. I'm shocked no one's come looking for it.
"Rashid isn't here right now," he says quietly, and he scowls at me. "And I've been using it. I've been talking to Gusev."
My stomach drops and rolls. "You've been doing what?" The men who want him dead? This doesn't make sense. Why would he do that?
"Listen to me before you react," he says, gripping my hand tighter.
"I told Gusev that Krasnov is holding me prisoner and that I can get him inside the house if he sends men to break through the security.
I told him there are weapons here and cash and that Krasnov keeps it all in a safe in his office....
" Batya's eyes rise. "Gusev is coming here himself. "
"Why would you do that?" I pull my hand free and stand up from the cot.
"You're the one who put us here on purpose.
And now you're inviting Gusev to attack the one place where we're actually safe?
" I scoot back, thinking I might throw up.
My mind shoots to Lex sleeping soundly, and then to Anna.
A baby and an old woman shouldn't be in the middle of a war zone, which is exactly what this house will become if Gusev listens to my father and does come here.
“Oh God, this isn't good."
"We're not safe here, Emory. We're prisoners."
"We're alive because Rashid's keeping us alive, Batya.
If Gusev's men come through that door with guns they're not going to check whose side we're on before they start shooting.
" I push back, refusing to let him hold my hand anymore.
I came down here to apologize for being rude to him and look where it got me.
"Gusev wants to kill us..." My mind is spinning, wondering how fast they'll be here, if that's why Rashid was called away.
"That's why we run during the chaos," Batya says, sitting forward on the cot.
"When Gusev's men hit the security perimeter every guard in this house is going to move toward the fighting.
The back of the house will be clear and we can get out through the kitchen entrance and into the alley.
I've been watching the guard rotations from the basement window for days, Em. We can do this."
"This is insane."
"This is the only chance we're going to get."
"You promised Gusev you would help him get into this house?" I hiss, standing up and hugging myself. "Oh my God." I move, walking toward the window, then back toward the stairs. "How will I get to Lex in time? Is he coming now? What if he finds us! He'll kill us!"
"He won't find us because we'll already be gone." Batya struggles off the cot and wobbles over to me. I can see he really thinks this is logical, but it's irrational and stupid.
"And where do we go, Batya? You can barely walk; how will you run? What money, then?" I gesture with my hands, tears burning my eyes as I shout at him.
Batya drops his head and rubs his face with both hands.
When he looks back up at me his eyes are wet and his lip trembles.
"I'm trying to protect you, Emory," he says sharply.
"I know I've done everything wrong. Every choice I've made has put you and Lex in more danger and I can't take any of it back.
But I can't sit in this basement and wait for Krasnov to decide to kill us. We have to get out."
"You could trust me," I snap, now angry I even considered apologizing to him. "Staying here keeps us safe. Can't you see that!"
He stares at me with open anger. The pause before he speaks is painful. "You want to stay with him?" My father looks angry, then hurt, then disgusted. The idea of me doing what he's done is abhorrent. He can get into bed with criminals, but when I do it, somehow it's wrong?
"I want my son to be safe. And right now the safest place for him is in this house with a man who has the resources to protect him.
" I sit back down beside Batya, forcing him to join me, and take his hand again.
"I'm not saying I trust Rashid completely.
I haven't fully forgiven him for what he did.
But I know he won't hurt Lex, okay? And I know he won't let anyone else hurt him either.
That's more assurance than we had before. "
Batya looks at our hands together and his thumb moves across my knuckles. "Your mother would have known what to do," he says quietly. "She always knew how to handle things when I couldn't."
"Mama would have slapped you for stealing that phone," I tell him, and he almost smiles.
"She would have slapped me for a lot of things." He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. "I'm sorry, Emory. My gambling and skirting around what is right put you in danger. You deserved a better father than what I've been."
"You're the only father I have," I tell him. "And I love you even when you make it impossible."
He holds my hand against his cheek and closes his eyes. For a moment I'm transported to happier times, when it was just me and Batya against the world, but his scheming crashes in on us and it's too late to even try to warn Rashid.
The whole house erupts in gunfire, though the sound's muffled through the ceiling.
But I can hear men shouting and boots pounding across the floor overhead, and more gunfire coming from multiple directions at once.
Something heavy crashes against a wall upstairs.
A woman screams, and I'm on my feet before I know I've moved.
"That's Anna," I say. "That's Lex up there."
"This is it," Batya says, color draining from his face as he realizes what he's set in motion. "They're here. Gusev's men are inside. I thought we'd have more time."
"There's no more time, Batya. We have to move." I rush toward the steps, taking them two at a time, and my heart is thundering. The idea of running from this place with my boy isn't even tempting. I know Rashid keeps his word, and he promised to protect me. The problem is he's not here.
Batya shoves the phone into his pocket and climbs to the door, pulling a thin piece of metal from his pocket. He drops to his knees in front of the lock and works the pick into the mechanism with shaking hands.
"How long have you had that?" I hiss, unbelieving. If I pound on this door I give away our location, but if we stay here, they could kill Anna and take Lex.
"I made it from a piece of the cot frame a few days ago," he says, twisting the pick as another burst of gunfire rattles through the ceiling. Dust falls from the exposed beams and the lightbulb flickers. "I've been practicing on the lock when the guards change shifts."
"Hurry up." My palms are sweaty and I'm barely fighting off the tears of terror. My baby must be so scared. Oh God, how can I leave him alone in a time like this?
"I'm trying, Em." His hands shake so badly the pick slips out, and he has to start over as more gunfire erupts upstairs, closer now.
I hear glass shattering somewhere near the front of the house and a man's voice shouting something in Russian that I can't make out.
Then a crash shakes the floor under my feet and the tears start flowing.
"God, can we just kick it down?" I'm panicked, ready to start banging, but Gusev would come straight here. He'd find us and he'd kill Batya.
The pick slips out again and Batya swears under his breath, jamming it back in and twisting with both hands now. The gunfire hasn't stopped, and I can hear someone running down the hallway, heavy boots that pound the floorboards and make dust fall from the ceiling with every step.
"Batya, please."
"I almost have it." He twists the pick and something catches inside the mechanism.
He twists again, harder, and the lock clicks.
When he yanks the door open, the hallway is dark, but the sounds continue assaulting my eardrums. Shouting, gunfire, breaking glass, and underneath all of it the high sharp wail of a child screaming.
"Oh my God, that's Lex," I say, grabbing Batya's arm. "What if they have him?"
Batya leads me into the chaos of the hallway just off the kitchen.
Smoke drifts through the air, and I can see shell casings scattered across the tile and a guard I recognize lying on his side near the kitchen doorway, not moving.
The front door's blown open and the rain pours in from outside, mixing with the smoke.
Gunfire continues from the direction of the living room and I hear men shouting at each other in Russian, voices I don't recognize.
Batya grabs my wrist and pulls me toward the kitchen. "This way," he says, keeping low in a crouch as he moves. "The back entrance is through here and we can get to the alley before they come around."
"I can't!" I hiss quietly hoping not to let anyone know where we're at. "They have Lex. I have to get to him."
"Emory, we have to go right now," Batya says, pulling harder on my wrist. His eyes are wild, and he keeps looking over his shoulder toward the front of the house where the gunfire hasn't stopped. "If we don't move in the next thirty seconds we're going to be trapped in here with all of them."
"I'm not leaving without my son." I yank away from him and swipe at my eyes, turning back toward the noise.
"We don't have time to go upstairs. The whole front of the house is a war zone and the stairs are right in the middle of it." He's angry now, clawing at my wrist, which I keep pulling away. The thought of living without my son is too painful; I'd rather die here than leave without him.
"Then I'll go through the middle of it." I pull my wrist free from his grip. "You can leave if you want to, Batya. I understand if you have to go. But I'm not walking out of this house without Aleksandr."
"You're going to get yourself killed, Em."
"Then I get killed," I say defiantly. "I will not leave my son in this house. I will not be the mother who ran."
Another burst of gunfire tears through the hallway behind us and we both drop to the floor. Bullets drive through the wall above our heads and plaster showers my back. Batya covers my body with his and I can feel him trembling as the shooting continues.
"Please, Em," he begs into my ear. "Please come with me. We can come back for the boy."
"You don't come back from something like this," I tell him, pushing his weight off me and getting to my knees. "You run and you keep running and you never see the people you left behind again. I won't do that to my son."
I get to my feet and run toward the staircase with Lex's screaming pulling me forward through the smoke and the noise. Behind me I hear Batya calling my name, but I don't turn around. I will get to Lex or I will die trying. There's no third option.