After a few minutes, Nika said something foul in German, very slowly:
“There he is.” she murmured after the outburst, baring her teeth. To my great surprise, I discovered that she also had sharp fangs, although I hadn’t seen them before. “That shitty panther is still alive. I thought Richie had hurt him badly enough for him to bleed out…”
“Where is he?” I asked, frantic.
“In a tree, outside the clearing. He’s watching the boy. He knows someone is going to come for him at any moment. I think he has something in his hand… I can’t make out what it is.” She paused and frowned without stopping her observation through the scope. She turned a knob above the lens tube—I assumed to increase the zoom. Then she went pale and spat through clenched teeth: “Damn it, it’s a detonator!”
“What!?”
I pu
