The Traitor's Story Read Online Free PDF

words out. Finn waited until he was halfway up, both of his arms occupied with the effort, his balance off, then planted a kick on the side of his head.
    It sent him crumpling back down again. Something fell out of his jacket onto the floor, a small hunting knife, and Finn wondered how it had come loose. The guy was wearing a shoulder holster, too, but he saw the knife and tried to reach for it. Finn kicked it clear, then powered another swift kick to the guy’s ribs, reached down, and pulled the gun free before taking a quick backward step. He slipped the gun into his overcoat, showing that he meant no more harm.
    The guy was beat, and knew that he was hurt now. He reached up, feeling the back of his head, cursing again, but under his breath this time. Finn glanced at the pew the guy had collided with—there was no blood on it.
    When he looked back, the guy was staring up at him, but in recognition now, and with a sickening jolt the guy found a place in Finn’s own mind. One of Karasek’s men—no one he’d ever spo ken to, but he’d seen him a few times. He was angry with himself for not identifying him earlier.
    “I know you,” said the guy, pointing. “Big mistake, asshole.”
    Finn wondered if these people learned English by watching cheap gangster films. But, language aside, Finn also knew the guy was right. There were just too many ways in which this was a mistake—number one being that he had no way of keeping this girl safe, not now.
    “The girl didn’t want to go with you.”
    “Not your girl. Karasek’s girl.” He tried to push himself up but was still unsteady, and settled for pushing himself farther along the aisle, away from Finn. “You’re dead man now. Dead man.”
    Finn looked back at the girl, although he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps he was hoping that she would offer a way out of this. She looked terrified, though—aghast that he was even having a con versation with the man. There was no question of Finn letting him take her—as much of a mistake as this was, he just couldn’t let that happen.
    He turned back, trying to think of a conciliatory note, but the guy was struggling to his feet. Sensing Finn’s gaze back on him, he repeated, “Yeah, big mistake, asshole.”
    They were still alone in the church. And alarming as it was, Finn saw there was only one solution, only one way out. He moved forward, scooping the knife off the floor before knocking the guy back off his feet. He followed through with the movement, dropping a knee onto his chest, putting his free hand over the guy’s mouth and forcing his head back onto the floor.
    He said something urgent, hot, and garbled against Finn’s palm. He tried to swing a punch, too, but Finn slid the blade quickly and forcefully across the side of his neck, a smooth movement until the end, when the blade snagged on something gristly. The blood pulsed out in gulps rather than spurting, and the guy seemed to realize too late what had been done to him. His eyes had a look of astonishment, and his body twitched with an odd rhythm beneath Finn’s weight.
    Finn waited, watching the pool of blood grow, the stillness and peace of the church feeling ominous now, as if they were about to be disturbed. The guy was dead, or as near as made little difference. Finn stood, dropping the knife onto the body.
    He turned and looked at the girl then, expecting her to be in shock at what she’d just witnessed. But, far from looking horrified, she gave a nervous little nod as she stared at the body, and looked at Finn with moist eyes and a weak smile that seemed nothing less than gratitude.
    He beckoned for her to follow, and walked back to the door of the church. When he reached it, he turned and found her right behind him. His coat would look ridiculous on her, but he took his scarf and handed it to her, then his gloves.
    As she put them on he said, “I’ve never killed anyone before.”
    She smiled again and said something back to him in Russian, and it