Day Watch

The witty type. He was so young he shouldn't have been able to remember what a Young Pioneer was. And his ambitions were exorbitant… fifty rubles-that was almost ten dollars.

"You didn't ask the most important thing," I remarked. "Fifty what?"

"Well, fifty what?" the driver's friend repeated obligingly.

"Bucks."

The young guys' expressions changed immediately.

"Fifty bucks, we go fast, without any other passengers, and we don't turn the music up loud," I added. "Is it a deal?"

"Yes," the driver decided. He began looking around. "What about your things?"

"I've got them all here." I got into the backseat and dropped my bag down beside me. "Let's go."

My tone of voice seemed to have had the right effect. A minute later we were already swinging out onto the road. I relaxed and leaned back a bit more comfortably. This was it. Vacation. I needed to rest… eat the peaches… gather my strength…

And afterward Moscow and Zabulon would be waiting for me…

Just at that moment my cell phone rang in my bag. I got it out without opening my eyes and took the call.

"Alisa, how was the flight?"

I felt a warm glow in my chest. One surprise after another! Even during our best times Zabulon hadn't felt a need to take any interest in such petty details. Or was this just because I was unwell and feeling down?

"It was excellent, thanks. They say there were some problems with the weather, but…"

"I know about that. The guys in the Simferopol Day Watch gave us a hand with the weather conditions. That's not what I meant, Alisa. Are you in a car now?"

"Yes."

"Your forecast for this trip is bad."

I pricked up my ears. "The road?"

"No. Apparently your driver."

In front of me the young guys' cropped heads were like blank stone. I looked at them for a second, furious at my helplessness. I couldn't even feel their emotions, let alone read their thoughts…

"I'll handle it."

"Have you let your escort go?"

"Yes. Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll handle it."

"Are you sure, Alisa?" There was genuine concern in Zabulon's voice. And that had the same effect on me as dope on an athlete.

"Of course. Try looking further ahead in the forecast!"

Zabulon was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Yes, it straightens out… But keep in touch. I'll come if it's necessary."

"If they do anything to me, just skin them alive, sweetheart," I said.

"I'll do more than that-I'll make them eat their own skins."

Zabulon agreed. It was no empty threat, of course, but a real promise. "Well, have a good vacation, darling."

I switched off the cell phone and slipped into a doze. The Nissan drove on smoothly and we were soon out on the high road. The young guys occasionally lit a cigarette and there was a smell of tobacco-fortunately not the worst kind. Then the sound of the motor became more labored-we were climbing the mountain pass. I opened my eyes and glanced through the open window at the starry sky. How big the stars were in the Crimea. How close.

Then I fell asleep for real. I even began dreaming-a sweet, languorous dream. I was swimming in the sea at night and there was someone beside me, and sometimes in the darkness I could almost make out the lines of his face, and I could feel the gentle touch of his hands…

When I realized that the touch was real, I instantly woke up and opened my eyes.

The engine was silent and the car was standing a little distance off the highway. I think it was in the emergency side road for poor souls whose brakes have failed.

My driver's brakes and his friend's had definitely failed. I could see it in their eyes.

When I woke up the driver's friend took his hand away from my face. He even gave a crooked smile as he said, "We're here, sister."

"It doesn't look like Artek, brother," I replied.

"It's the Angarsky Pass. The motor's overheated," said the driver, licking his lips. "We have to wait. You can get out for a breath of fresh air."

If he was still trying to make lame excuses, he was obviously far more nervous than his companion, who screwed up his courage and said, "You can take a piss…"

"Thanks, I don't need one." I carried on sitting there, watching the pair of them curiously, wondering what they'd try. Would they try to drag me out of the car? Or try to rape me where I was? And afterward?

It would be too dangerous to let me go. They'd probably throw me off a cliff. And probably into the sea-the murderer's best friend throughout the ages. The land preserves clues for a long time, but the sea has a short memory.

"We were starting to wonder," the driver declared, "if you really have the money… Young Pioneer."

"Since I hired you," I said, emphasizing the word 'hired," "it means I do."

"Show us," the driver demanded.

Oh, how stupid you are… you little people…

I took the wad of money out of my purse, peeled off a fifty and held it out, as if I hadn't noticed the greedy eyes devouring the money. Well, now I was certainly done for.

But they still seemed to need some kind of justification. If only for themselves.

"It's counterfeit!" the driver squealed, carefully hiding the fifty in his pocket. "You bitch, you were trying to…"

I looked at them calmly as I listened to a choice serving of obscene language. I felt something inside me tense up, but even so, I didn't have the normal powers of an Other that would have allowed me to turn these two young runts into obedient puppets.

"Hoping your friend can help, are you?" the driver's friend asked. "Is that it? Going to skin us alive, is he? We'll skin him, you bitch!"

I laughed as I imagined the million and one amusing things Zabulon would have done to these young pups just for saying that.

The driver grabbed hold of my arm. His young face was basically rather handsome-I wouldn't have minded having a resort romance with an attractive young man like that-but now it was contorted by a mixture of anger, fear, and lust.

"You're going to pay in kind, you bitch."

Ugh. In kind. And with all my things, and a brief flight through the air down an almost vertical incline…

No, I didn't want my acquaintance with the warm water of the Black Sea to start that way. The other young guy reached out toward me, clearly intending to rip my blouse. The bastard-it cost two hundred and fifty bucks! His hands had almost reached me when I pressed the barrel of my pistol against his forehead.

There was a brief pause.

"My, what tough kids you are," I purred. "All right, get your hands off, and get out of the car."

The pistol had really stu

The young guys jumped out of the car and I followed them. They hesitated for a few seconds and then tried to make a run for it. But that didn't suit me now.

I put the first bullet into the ankle of the driver's friend. His legs were less important-he didn't have to work the pedals. It was a trivial glancing scrape-more like a skin burn than a firearms wound-but it was more than enough. The friend fell to the ground with a howl and the driver stopped dead in his tracks with his hands in the air. I wondered who they thought I was. A Federal Security Service agent on vacation?

"I understand your greed perfectly," I said. "The economy's in ruins, people aren't getting paid… And the lust too. After all, you still have the sexual hyperdrive of youth seething inside you. So do I, as it happens!"

Even the wounded one stopped making noise. They listened to me without saying a word-as night came on the highway had emptied and there was just one set of headlights approaching in the distance. It was an enchanting, still night, with the sky covered in stars-a warm Crimean night, and down at the bottom of the cliff, the sea was murmuring.