Finally, Gord and Pi joined them. They could disembark. Rempert put on a hat and sunglasses while the two men and Darya carried weapons and ammunition. A few minutes later, they found themselves on deck. The barge was moored at the only pontoon in Saltymakovo, a small town of 1,500 souls. Two tiny fishing boats competed for a place, ridiculous insects in front of this invading behemoth.
“Zero for discretion,” said Droski. “Suffice to say that I would like to get out of here quickly.”
“So let’s go,” Darya replied firmly.
Having given the signal for departure, she went down to the pontoon which creaked a little too much for her taste. Pi had used solid ropes to secure it, of course, but the barge was likely to tear off the common wooden posts to which they were attached. Fortunately, the
