Back at the Black Madonna

 'Look, my word is bond. Well, except in this time. This time, I pass. Igor is not someone to trifle.'  Petr pushes his chair back from the table. 

'I don't want to antagonize him. I just want to talk to him about Peyton.' My voice cracks. 'Petr, please.' I reach for his hand. 'I'll owe you.'

Petr looks at me with a weird combination speculative sadness. I haven't strayed too far into his world in years but I can see he likes the idea of having me in his debt. 

'I  will arrange. But such foolishness...Masha. Take a gun.'