Unfortunately, Sean’s reaction, although slower than Pyotr’s, was almost immeasurably so and his bullet remained true to its original course and hit Pyotr center mass.
Pytor spun back and slammed into the wall as the bullet tore at his chest. Pyotr’s rifle clattered to the floor followed shortly by Pyotr as he slid unceremoniously down the wall. His eyes stared at Alexa, the question etched on his face. “What the hell was she doing?!”
Sean trained his pistol on Alexa as she stood up, mouth agape, watching her partner slide down the wall. Her weapon, although not raised in anger, was still in play and as far as Sean was concerned, still a threat, despite the fact she had most definitely saved his life.
“What’s happening?” cried Katie Fox from the living room. She was doing as Sean had told her, keeping her head down but he should have told her to keep her mouth shut.
Alexa looked at Sean in the eye and carefully placed her weapon on the ground. The act of trust was rewarded by Sean. He lowered his weapon and allowed Alexa to move towards Pyotr.
Pyotr winced in pain as she grabbed at his chest, before slapping him hard across the face.
“You could have told me you were wearing a vest! I thought you were dead!” she shouted angrily, standing up to face Sean.
Sean watched in amazement as Alexa first slapped and then turned her back on Pytor. He was obviously struggling for breath and Sean wouldn’t be surprised if two or three ribs weren’t cracked and from the noises he was making, his lung was probably punctured.
“You should get him to a hospital,” suggested Sean.
“I’ll take him right after you,” replied Alexa, pointing at Sean’s leg.
Sean looked down. His pants were soaked in blood. He pulled at the fabric and examined the wound; it was merely a flesh wound, a splinter from the wall and not a bullet.
“I’ll live,” said Sean, turning his attention back to Alexa and Pyotr.
“Sean?!” shouted Katie from the living room.
“I’m fine, just wait there!”
Pyotr almost forgot his injuries as he heard Sean react to his name.
“You are Sean Fox?” he asked in astonishment through the pain, first looking at Sean and then at Alexa who was nodding her head just enough for him to understand that that was why she had diverted his shots. How could they kill Sean Fox’s widow? If he were alive, she was not a widow. A mistake had been made somewhere and she may not be a threat if her husband was alive.
Sean had recognized the AS Val rifle even when looking down its barrel. The chances of two assassins favoring that weapon were nigh on nil. That left standard issue equipment which meant they were Russians or their allies. Initially he just wondered what the hell the Russians were doing involved in the mess but their knowing his name and the way in which it was said had just added an entirely new twist to the day’s events.
“Sorry, do I know you guys?” asked Sean, feeling the trigger on his pistol once again.
“No and you don’t need to,” offered Alexa turning and helping Pyotr to his feet. “We’re just leaving.”
Alexa put Pyotr’s arm over her shoulder and made for the door. Sean stepped into their path. His gun pointed in their general direction rather than directly at them but the meaning was not lost. They were going nowhere.
“It’s better for everybody if you let us leave,” offered Alexa in a conciliatory tone, allowing her rifle barrel to point to the floor.
“You came here to kill whoever was in this house,” replied Sean. He was beginning to get a little pissed. “It was only when you,” he said looking to Alexa, “recognized me, that you stopped him,” added Sean, pointing his pistol at Pyotr.
Both stayed silent, neither wanted nor was able to admit the truth.
“It makes me wonder what you would have done had the lady of the house come out first?” pondered Sean, staring into Alexa’s eyes.
Alexa could not hold Sean’s gaze. The guilt of what they had been ordered to do weighed too heavily on her mind, telling Sean all he needed to know.
“But why?” was all he could ask, as the impact of what he had stopped hit home.
Alexa looked at Pyotr. He was the more senior of the two agents. He struggled onto his feet and pushed Alexa aside. The impact of the round was lessening and he was regaining his breath.
“We have no idea. All I can say is that we have followed our orders. You being here meant that our orders no longer stood but I would advise taking your wife and child and getting out of here. Others may have different orders or may be more flexible around the orders they have.”
As bizarre as the situation seemed, Sean stepped aside, allowing the two Russians to leave. He could see the relief on their faces, neither was happy at whatever their orders were and like Sean, they had simply being following orders sent down from on high. He knew they had already divulged more than they should, and for that, he was grateful.
“Sorry about the ribs!” he said, closing the door behind them. He knew pursuing them further was pointless. In any event, he had the small issue of convincing the wife that he wasn’t her husband. He’d worry about how the Russians fitted in after that.
As he turned towards the living room, the dead Mexican’s phone began to ring. The Mexican Hat Dance ring tone had Katie Fox running from the living room, a look of horror on her face.
Chapter 18
“What do we do?” asked Katie, grabbing the phone from the floor, her voice cracking from panic.
“Well, we can’t answer it!” replied Sean looking at the handset as uselessly as Katie.
“They have our baby!” she explained, pleading at Sean.
Sean really had to clear up the not being her husband issue and it not being his baby but such pedantry could wait until the phone stopped ringing.
“I know but we can’t answer without putting him at risk.”
The phone continued to ring. Both looked at it helplessly as the Mexican Hat Dance continued on a seemingly endless and infuriating loop.
As the tune ended, Katie dropped the phone on the floor and threw herself into Sean’s arms. Tears streamed from her face and soaked his shirt as she clung to him with every ounce of strength she possessed.
“I thought you were dead! God, I thought you were dead!” she whispered next to his ear between her sobs.
Sean felt the weight of the world fall on him as the wife whose husband was most definitely dead clung to him in relief.
“I’m not your husband, he is dead,” Sean said quietly but firmly, extracting himself from Katie’s hold.
Katie swung a fist at Sean. “Stop saying that! Why would you say that?! You are Sean Fox!” she cried, looking him deep in the eye.
A statement that Sean could not deny. He was Sean Fox but not her Sean Fox.
“I am Sean Fox,” he said and received a smile almost instantly from Katie. “But not your Sean Fox,” he added in explanation.
Katie looked at him with concern. “You must have hit your head. Head injuries can cause memory loss,” she offered, reassuringly stroking the side of his face.
Sean pulled back. Her intimate touch, after six months in the wilderness of Afghanistan, was very pleasant but also very wrong. He was not who she thought he was.
Sean led Katie through to the dining room which was untouched by the earlier violence and lacked any recent corpses. He sat her down in one of the chairs and pulled another out to allow him to face her.
“Please just hear me out,” he asked and received a nod of acceptance in response.
“My name is Sean Fox. I am 39 years old and have never been married. Up until 18 months ago, I worked for the government and only arrived back in the United States this morning after being in Afghanistan for six months.”
Katie had nodded in agreement to every statement but the last. “You were here three months ago,” she corrected. “That’s when you went missing and we thought you had been killed.”