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She hushed me again and started to explore the walls of the van with her hands. It was shocking how quickly she understood our situation and took action. Her fingers slipped into a crack and pulled a metal compartment open to peekthrough to the front of the van. She turned back to me and held up one finger as she mouthed the wordone.
I nodded and came up behind her. I motioned with my finger that I wanted to see. She let me into her space, and I gasped when I saw Tommy's red dragon tattoo on the driver of the van's neck. I didn't know how she knew there was only one because I couldn't see the passenger seat, but I trusted her.
We sat down on the bench as the van wobbled along. I leaned close to her ear. "That's Tommy," I whispered.
Her eyes flared. She knew the story of how he had killed my parents.
"What do we do?" I asked her.
"We kill him." The tiniest hint of a Russian accent came out in her words, and for the first time I truly saw how she could've been a Russian spy.
She patted her pants pockets. "They took my phone, my watch, and my weapon." She untied her boot and slipped it off her foot. With a tug, she removed the rubber sole. Inside was a small gun. "But not my backup."
I watched in shock as she deftly removed bullets from her other boot and loaded the gun. It was amazing how small it was. She replaced her boots and crept to the back of the van, motioning for me to sit in the corner by the door. I did as she said and waited. Her eyes focused intensely on the back door like Tommy was already standing there. "When he opens it, hit the floor."
"Okay." My heart raced. Oh my God. This was terrifying and exciting. We rolled along for at least another hour. Shenever lost focus, and I was able to catch my breath amidst all my spinning thoughts. "Can I do it?"
Her gaze turned to mine, and her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" Her Russian accent was even stronger now.
"Can I kill him? He kidnapped us. He's an immediate threat. We're in serious danger. If I kill him, it's self-defense."
Her lips grew thin, and her gaze moved from the door to my eyes several times. "No."
"Please."
"This is survival not revenge." The anger in her voice scraped with a hard edge.
"Right. Right. Okay. I'll be quiet." I sat back against the wall of the van and tried to stay out of her way. "Sorry."
The van stopped for a long period, maybe twenty minutes, and we thought this was it, but then we rolled again for at least another ten minutes.
The next time we stopped, the engine cut out, the e-brake clicked on, and we heard the sounds of Tommy leaving the front seat. The driver's side door slammed shut, and Celeste moved into position next to the part of the back door that would open. I crouched down on the floor by her leg.
A beam of light entered the van, and I held my breath for three long seconds. An ear-splitting crack echoed off the walls of the van and rattled my bones. Tommy grunted. I peeked out just as he fell backwards. He was clutching his stomach through his shirt, screaming and twisting on the pavement.
We climbed out, and I saw that we were surrounded by other vans and cars, but there were no people close by.
Celeste kicked his gun to the side and handed me her tiny gun. "Here." She looked from me to Tommy who was writhing on the asphalt.
I took it from her. "Really?"
"I lost my parents too. Take your shot."
"Oh my God." I tried to remember everything Mag told me about form and safety, but my thoughts were racing.
Bright red blood was already seeping into his shirt. "No," he pleaded, but I barely heard it. I'd already made up my mind.
I took my shot.
One to the head.
I didn't miss.
He stopped moving and his body went slack.
Celeste took the weapon from my shaking hands. "Nice work. Anyone asks, I fired both shots."
"Okay," I whispered, still in total shock Tommy was dead and Celeste was so totally badass.
