"Please don't start a fight in the airport parking lot, Artemiy," Daniel said. He was leaned back against the seat, the world spinning a bit from the sharp turns they were making in search of a space. His stomach protested, but not enough to reject its contents. All the same, he was happy when they were finally stopped.
He climbed out of the back seat slowly, making sure he was awake from the sedation enough for his legs to function normally. He was a bit sore, but he should be able to walk.
"We go to the terminal where the private planes take off. I can get us through without dealing with security. Just follow my lead," Daniel said.
There were still plenty of people in the airport at this time of night. People waiting in corraled lines, sleeping on the benches, trying to calm screaming children. Daniel knew where he was going, passed the main entrance and towards the offices. He exchanged a few words with the greeters, showed them some papers, and they let him and Burakh through with only a spare glance at Artemiy.
It was a terminal at the far side that was where they were headed. There were very few people on this side. A woman with sandy blonde hair and a black vest was sitting in one of the offices nearby, nursing a pile of cookies and some coffee and reading a magazine. She looked maybe a couple of years older than Dankovsky, at most.
She looked up when they came closer and stood up, her hands in the air, exclaiming in German, "{Daniel, Daniel, you haven't been kidnapped!}"
"{No, of course not. Forgive me for making you wait,}" he said. He took her hands and they kissed each other's cheeks. Then, he continued in Russian. "This is Burakh. Your plane should have enough room for him."
She sized Artemiy up. "He'll have enough room as a passenger. Otherwise I'll clear some room in the cargo hold."
"He and I can squeeze together for the trip. He won't complain," Daniel said.
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