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We head toward the cafe, and I approach carefully, looking for any signs of trouble. Two blocks away, I park and feed a meter, motioning for Anastasia to follow me into the building and up the stairs.
“Aren’t we a bit far away?” she whispers as we climb into the elevator.
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine.”
The lift takes us to the top floor, at which point we take the stairs to the roof. I lead Ana over to the edge I have come to know so well. This is one of my usual places to snipe from. It is a good ruse. No one thinks something will happen in public. Before it was a French cafe, it was a coffee place.
I hand Anastasia the binoculars. “Focus them down there, two blocks. You’ll see the French cafe and people sitting outside,” I explain.
“I see a bunch of people sitting around talking and eating,” she says as I quickly put my rifle together. The wind whips around me, and I frown, setting up the bipod as well, just in case. I mount the rifle to the bipod, slide down to one knee, and settle myself into position. I look through the scope, down toward the cafe. I start factoring in the wind, ready to take a shot.
Nothing happens.
An hour passes slowly, and although I can tell Anastasia is getting uncomfortable, she maintains her focus on the cafe. I can do this all day. I’m trained for this.
“I see something,” she murmurs.
“Position?” I ask.
“Just outside the cafe, two guys are hanging around.” She says it quietly, as though someone is going to find us.
I look down my scope, adjusting my position, and see the two big Mexican guys seemingly loitering by the cafe. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I scan up and down the street, before I find two more guys further down. I frown and quickly pan my rifle across the area we’re visible from, and I catch a glint of metal before I dive for Anastasia, taking her to the ground.
The concrete above us explodes as the bullet hits it. I get up quickly, take a position and fire two shots at the other guy. He’s not a trained professional and probably using an older gun. I get him and practically rip my rifle apart before grabbing my stuff.
“Run! They know we’re here.”
Anastasia follows me, keeping low. I pull out a handgun as we move down the stairs. I motion for Anastasia to stop as I hear shouting coming from downstairs. People, several of them, are running up the stairs.
“Follow me,” I say, pulling her through the stairwell exit doors and into the apartment building hallway. I kick open one of the doors at random. A woman lounging on her sofa screams, but I ignore her. “The fire escape. Quickly.”
We take the fire escape dangerously quickly, but we make it to the ground floor and hurry to my car. As we turn the corner, I see two Mexicans standing with their backs to us.
“Get to the car,” I say, raising my handgun and shooting at them.
Anastasia falters, and I snarl at her, “Get to the car.”
She hurries, and I throw my bag in the back. Fuck the seat belts. I rev the car to life, and we speed off before anyone else can follow us.
I circle the block a few times before I feel like we aren’t followed, and we can park. Once parked, I follow Ana slowly up to the apartment. I shut the door after us and set my stuff on the kitchen table.
“You foolish asshole,” she shouts suddenly, turning around and punching me in the chest. “I warned you they wouldn’t fall for that.”
“Are you okay? Relax, we made it out.” I say, holding my hands up.
“Relax?” she shouts. “Relax?” she starts punching my chest over and over again. “We could have died, you stupid idiot.” She starts yelling in Russian. I assume she’s swearing at me before she switches to English again. “I can’t believe I trusted your plan!”
I grab her wrists roughly and step right up to her growling, “Calm the fuck down, Ana. Stop freaking out.”
She glares up at me, a fiery passion in her eyes. Suddenly her lips are on mine, and her tongue probes the space between my lips. I grunt, our bodies touching, and I let my tongue loose to meet hers. They entwine with each other, and I relish the taste of her mouth.
She presses herself against me more hungrily. I let go of her wrists and wrap my arms around her, hugging her against my chest. My cock is already getting hard.
She breaks our kiss to trail kisses down my neck, her hands gripping my shoulders.
“Ana, we should stop. We’re not allowed…”
“I’m done following the rules. I make the rules now,” she breathes. She pushes me suddenly, and we fall onto the sofa, where she starts undoing my pants. I groan, my hands flying to help her.
