It was the last present she'd ever received from her brother.
Eeva had told him that after the Ferris wheel when they'd wandered the streets of Nice, just absorbing the magic of the city and of each other's company. They'd kissed then—that night when he'd given himself permission to feel happy again, which was funny because that permission only came after she'd shared the grief of her dead brother. There were probably textbooks written about situations like theirs, and certainly more than one Hollywood romance, but it was simple when it came down to it. Both of them were alone, and neither of them wanted to feel that way any longer. And the turquoise purse with the tassels and the geometric, Navajo design was there as their witness.
Cal wondered if the gun had been there the whole time.
Well, it was there now.
She let the purse fall from her shoulder and drop to the ground, revealing her fist wrapped around a little black pistol.
"No!" she shouted and brought the gun level with Valeri Solonik. All eyes darted to her and the black hole aimed at Valeri's face. "He doesn't get to leave!"
The Russians were calm before, but their arms immediately shot skyward at this new threat. Eeva's eyes were cold fire and her smile a painted grimace.
"Eeva!" Cal said and stepped towards her, but Frank blocked his way with an arm across his chest.
"Don't try to stop me, Cal!" Her eyes were wild. "Valeri Solonik dies today. I owe that to my brother and every soldier on that helicopter!"
Marat kept his eyes glued to Eeva, but he spoke to Frank. "Call her off, now!"
Frank shook his head. "She's not working with us, and I don't really care if she shoots you or not. In fact, it would save me a lot of paperwork."
Eeva roared through her teeth and took a step closer toward the brothers with her gun leading the way. She could shoot now and kill the object of her hatred.
The man who planned and plotted against her country.
The man who gave the order.
The one who killed her brother and everyone else onboard that helicopter.
She could end him with one twitch of her finger, but she didn't shoot. Her eyes were wild and Cal didn't know if she was hesitating or savoring the moment.
"American!" Marat continued and there was a quiver in his voice. "Stop her and we will work out a deal! I will leave Nice! I will give you records of our sales. You can track down the real criminals. We are just businessmen!"
"NO!" Eeva yelled and fired.
The clap of her little pistol was like thunder in the small room. It stunned Cal so much that it took a moment to register what happened. Valeri collapsed on his massive haunches, falling back on one hand. His other hand clutched his ear but could not stop the flow of blood pouring between his thick fingers. He howled in pain and rage while his brother, Marat, hovered over him like a protective shield, screaming at Eeva to stop, stop, STOP!
Eeva screamed back for him to move, MOVE! She side-stepped back and forth to get a better angle on her target.
Frank stepped towards Eeva, but she pointed the gun at him, and he froze with his palms up, his own gun facing the ceiling.
"Let's pause a moment," Frank said. Valeri continued to moan in pain while his brother consoled him. Eeva's aim bounced between the Russians huddled on the floor and Frank a few steps away.
Cal froze in place, in shock, and unsure what to do that wouldn't make everything worse.
Suddenly, Eeva's face whipped in his direction—their eyes meeting—and her pistol followed her gaze. "CAL!"
Her eyes and gun aimed past him, over his shoulder, but her warning came too late, as the hard muzzle of a new gun pressed into his ribs and a meaty arm wrapped around his neck from behind.
The Bell & Ross strapped around the thick wrist was immediately recognizable with its green circle set into a square of bronze. The hands glowed a subtle green in the shadow of the bridge hallway.
"Yes, everyone pauses now," said Zebra from behind, his breath hot on Cal's ear.
Cal now had three guns aimed at him: Zebra's in his ribs, and both Eeva and Frank aimed over his shoulder at the muscular Russian who was using him as both a hostage and human shield. Marat Solonik raised himself from the floor and barked something in Russian and Cal imagined that he was telling Zebra that he was late to the party because Zebra barked back with a laugh. Eeva spun her gun back to the Russian brothers, but a shout from Zebra made her pause. Valeri Solonik was still alive on the floor, clutching his bleeding ear.
"Guns on floor, NOW!" Zebra commanded.
Eeva looked at Cal with something like fear and contempt.
"I'm sorry," he said to her and Zebra pushed the gun deeper into his ribs to silence him. Eeva's face was a mask of fury, but she relented and tossed her pistol onto the couch behind her with a defiant grunt.
Frank's eyes were steel, and he did not drop his gun.
"You, too!" Zebra roared.
Frank shook his head no. "Listen, Zelenko. That's your name, right? The brothers are fucked, but it's not too late to save yourself."
Zebra's voice was loud in Cal's ear, his breath hot, as he said, "Quid pro quo."
"Anything you want, Clariska," Frank answered and then lowered his pistol just a hair.
Something had exchanged between the two men, and Cal was in the dark, once again. Zebra's arm loosened around his neck and the pressure subsided from the gun at his ribs. Cal tried pulling loose, but Zebra's grip instantly tightened again around his neck. It seemed Zebra was still considering his options. Take all the time you need, big boy, Cal thought*, just don't shoot.*
"Enough!" Marat Solonik yelled. He pushed a giant throttle forward on the bridge console and the big diesel engines beneath their feet answered with a roar. The Kosatka lurched forward in the water—headed south towards the port's exit and open waters.
"The autopilot is set!" Marat said before turning back to everyone else on the bridge. "Zelenko, shoot them all and then get the first aid kit before my brother bleeds out!"
Cal sucked in a breath.
He tried to focus his last thoughts and make them count. He'd soon be joining Molly in heaven, but his heart ached for MJ and the confusion and grief that would travel to her from across the Atlantic. Eeva looked angry and confused, but Frank's face hadn't changed. His silver pistol still aimed at Zebra's head over his shoulder.
Could Frank make the shot?
Zebra jerked Cal to one side and Frank adjusted his aim, the round opening of Frank's gun like a black hole in the sky; Cal couldn't keep his eyes from it as it waggled with the sway of the Kosatka plowing through the marina. Frank might miss. It'd be a hell of an irony if Butch Cassidy ended up gunning down Sundance by accident.
Cal was the last one on the bridge to throw his attention to the front of the bridge where a little black drone with four electric motors hovered in midair just outside the forward window. It looked like Niles's toy drone, but what was it doing there now? The drone bumped against the window and then backed away; it was having trouble keeping pace with the yacht.
"What is this?" Marat Solonik demanded. His face was twisted in a sneer.
Everyone looked at Frank, expecting an answer. Cal damned sure would have liked one.
"That would be our backup," Frank said and his face looked more amused than concerned. "Smile everyone!" he said. "We're all on Candid Camera!"