We drove east out of Montreal, missed the turn to Burlington and ended up in a town called Sherbrooke. It was not a problem, since we had no consensus on where we should be headed. Ellen wanted to go back to her uncle’s cabin. Urszula wanted to go hunting for Wendell. Though, the two options were not mutually exclusive. As for me, I just wanted to crawl under a rock and die.
We all agreed that it was good to get the hell out of Montreal. Nothing personal, Montreal, but we had just witnessed a murder and badly needed a change of scenery. So we headed south down Route 55 towards the U.S. Border station in Rock Island. I worried about getting Urszula back across the border. I figured someone might notice that she had died a hundred years ago in another country.
She couldn’t stop gushing about her scepter and what it had done to Nelson’s shoes. I had never seen her so confident and cocky, but I kind of figured she was compensating for the weakness and self-loathing she had felt when I first dragged her back here.
She got a little nervous when we were waiting in the queue of cars trying to get back into the states. I got her to promise to leave the scepter on the floor. But we needn’t have worried about the crossing. Wendell’s fake passports did the trick for all of us. We flew right through the checkpoint without a search.
Urszula got talkative again once we were back on the road. But I didn’t feel like talking shop. I just wanted to listen to the radio and clear my head, but there was no stopping Urszula.
“We need to choose a battleground that works to our advantage,” she said. “Where he cannot ambush. With good sight lines … so we can see him coming.”
“That’s nice. I don’t want to think about it right now.”
“We need to prepare. We defied him. A man so vain will not stand for such disrespect. I know his type.”
“I’m proud of you, James,” said Ellen, patting my shoulder. “Whatever happens, happens. You did the right thing.”
“Whatever.”
“No. Not whatever. You did a good thing, walking away.”
“You know … Urszula’s right. This is gonna bring trouble.”
“Let him come. I’m not scared.”
“Might not only be him. Sounds like he’s got a whole network of assassins out there. He’s worse than Sergei.”
“Well … then maybe we should have stayed in Canada.”
“Oh? You got any more uncles with cabins up north?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“They maybe we should just keep moving. Get as big a cash advance off his credit card as we can, and then we just burn the damned thing.”
“No more running,” said Urszula. “We choose our battlefield … and wait.”
“Yeah, but where? Where would we have the advantage?”
“It is simple. We need three things. Visibility. So we can see him before he sees us. Cover. To protect us when he strikes back, but we will strike first. And … an exit. A clear path for escape should it become necessary.”
“O-kay. But that could be anywhere.”
“Precisely.” She looked at me with this blankly serious expression.
“Well … maybe you’re right. Maybe running just delays the inevitable. Maybe it’s time to make a stand. Especially if you think you got your mojo back.”
“Mojo?”
Something buzzed on the floor of the car.
“It’s … your phone,” said Ellen. “Don’t answer it.”
