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“Zoya Markovic.” Her gaze swept over my soaked clothes before returning to my face. “Where’s Alina?”

“Injured but alive. Mikhail is with her, and Anika and Kirill are taking them beyond Sokolov’s perimeter.” I raised the tablet between us, showing her the vehicles closing on the terminal. “His men will be here in less than three minutes.”

Zoya lowered the shotgun and pulled the door wider. “Then you’d better get inside.”

“Roman?” Nora’s small voice drifted from under a wooden bench. She crawled out with a sniffle, palms scraped raw. Dirt marked her cheek, and her curls tangled around the buttons of an oversized coat. My knees struck the floor before she raced across the room, and she hit my chest hard enough to rock me. Her arms locked around my neck, and the pain from her grip was the best fucking thing I’d felt all night. I pressed my face into her curls and checked her for injuries.

“You took forever.” Her voice broke against my shoulder. “I thought the bad men got Mommy.”

“They didn’t.” I received two pulses from Kirill’s transmitter, confirming the southern team had cleared the perimeter. “She’s safe, and she’s coming for you.”

My tablet vibrated, tiny red dots moving, closing in on our location. The first vehicle had reached the terminal road, and the others were seconds behind it. Lev’s team waited under the eastern ramp, but Sokolov’s men had split before the parking lot.

I lifted Nora and carried her behind the old service counter, where concrete protected the lower half, and steel cabinets blocked the interior door. The narrow window remained a problem since the only thing covering it was an old, black coat.

“Stay behind this wall.” I put my phone into Nora’s hands with Anika’s picture filling the screen. “Keep Mommy with you until I come back.”

She curled into herself, knees against her chest and the phone right in front of her face. “You’re coming back?”

I couldn’t control every weapon outside, but explaining probability to a frightened four-year-old would only make me an asshole. “Yes.”

A bullet tore through the coat and buried itself in the opposite wall with a dull pop. I covered Nora with my body as the outer windows exploded, filling the room with glass. Zoya dropped below the sill and fired through the hole in the coat.

“Alina paid my son’s debt four years ago. This was the first favor she asked.” Zoya reloaded the shotgun and glared. “Now she owes me a jacket.”

“Send her a bill.” I drew my pistol and keyed the radio under my collar. “Lev. Now.”

Our men opened fire from the river ramp. Sokolov’s team turned toward them, but three attackers continued forward, entering the ticket lobby. Glass crunched under their boots, one man breaking away to enter through the baggage corridor.

Shadows passed under the service door, and I fired through the cracked glass on the other side of the room, taking out the shooter before he could line up a better shot.

Nora started singing, a thin, uneven lullaby, her eyes scrunched up tight. She kept going as gunfire chewed through the lobby walls, spewing rubble as jagged lines appeared from rapid-fire bullets. I matched my breathing to her voice and moved between each line.

One man crossed the ticket booths, and another fired from behind a rusted turnstile. I shot the first through the shoulder, the punch of my weapon driving him into his partner’s path.

Lev’s team hit from the other direction, and I shoved open the door. “Nora, be ready to run.”

The terminal’s public-address system crackled overhead. A disembodied voice joined the static. “Turn over girl. There’s no need for anyone else to get hurt.”

Zoya aimed straight up and fired. Plastic rained over her silver braids as the voice exploded. “Too much fucking talking.”

I liked her immediately, but this proved we were all on the same page. Lev’s team pushed through the lobby as I doubled back toward the service entrance. A wounded attacker crawled behind the concrete counter, one bloody hand reaching over the edge. Nora’s lullaby cut off with an abruptness that sent my heart slamming my ribs.

I grabbed the man’s wrist before he touched her and dragged him into the open. His knife skidded away, but he still tried to make a mad grab for my coat. Laughing in his face, I drove my elbow into his throat and slammed his head against the floor. It was a move almost too reminiscent of Kirill for my liking, but I enjoyed the feeling of connection that came with acting like my more flamboyant brother.

Zoya pulled Nora from behind the counter. The entire fight had lasted less than two minutes, but my daughter shook as though she’d been hiding alone for hours.

I holstered my weapon and opened my arms. Nora flew into them, her arms tight enough to choke me. “Daddy Roman, you came back.”

I closed my eyes and held her tighter. There were no words, no analysis I could pull that would ever let me believe I deserved to hear her call me anything. “I’ll always come for you.”

Scooping her up, I followed Zoya through the entrance. Rain struck the terminal roof hard enough to drown out the remaining radio traffic until an armored ambulance slid to a stop in front of us.

Anika jumped out and ran across the wet concrete, her arms wide open. Kirill followed with Mikhail holding his hand. Nora twisted in my arms, screaming for her mother, and their bodies collided hard enough I locked an arm around Anika’s waist to keep all of us from going down.

Anika covered Nora’s face with kisses as she cried. Mikhail hovered beside them until Nora reached for him. “Micky.”

The boy sniffled, kicked his foot against the ground, and burrowed in for a hug. Anika pulled both children against her chest and sobbed.