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Chapter 21

“I believe it is my turn, yes.” Nikoloz glanced out the window, over the fields behind the garage. The farmer was out plowing, or perhaps harvesting. Nikoloz was uncertain about the workings of a farm. At any rate, the man was driving some sort of tractor around the field. His wife had finished her washing, and that now hung on the line, blowing in the late afternoon spring breeze. South Dakota reminded Nikoloz a little bit of the Soviet Union: rolling farmland, endless skies, and chilly climate.

Vincent beckoned him back to the table. “You’ll have to go in here, where they used to deliver the cans to the assembly lines. Good thing you’re such a compact Russian. It’s a small opening.”

“Soviet. I will take some explosives along, just in case I get the chance to destroy their equipment.”

Vincent nodded. “I’ve attached a homing beacon to your jacket, so if you get stuck in that chute, I can pry you back out.”