IRINA VOLKOV
The backup generators turned the penthouse red. Katya's hand was on my arm. Galina had moved away from the windows without being asked twice, which told me she'd lived through enough of these moments to know what they meant.
From below us, footsteps. Voices in Russian, clipped and directional. Nikolai's men moving with efficiency just like they've been trained.
"Irina." Katya's voice was very controlled. She was frightened and managing it, which was one of the things I'd always loved about her. "What's happening."
"Security response. Someone breached the perimeter."
"Someone breached—" She stopped. Started again. "Okay. Is this normal?"
"No."
"Is your guy handling it?"
I paused and finally said, "Yes."
"Are we safe here?"
Oh God, Katya!
I looked at Galina, who had p
