Galina's head whipped back over her shoulder as the first deafening [i]*whoomp*[/i] resounded through the very ground, shuddering through the wagon wheels to her very bones. For a single moment, the fires of the warehouse flashed in the dark depths of her eyes, alongside the briefest glimpse of regret. She had not intended to incinerate the building in its entirety, much less all the simple, hard-working men within, all consumed by the howling roar of the explosions. Her expression remained set, grim; there was nothing to do now but make good on the lives she'd sacrificed. Galina's attentions swiveled swiftly to Souma beside her, gaining control of their horse team as they fled for the compound gates.

[i]"Hai,"[/i] she countered quickly, scouting the gates ahead - their only escape. Stunned, bewildered, many of the [i]yakuza[/i] who streamed from the adjoining buildings either stood there as if inexplicably rooted to the spot, stunned and staring at the impossibility of the inferno that had once been the warehouse; or bolted for the buckets and wells in a desperate attempt to stifle the flames. Either way, the last thing many of them could be bothered with, was the runaway wagon jolting past.

But a handful had all-too-quickly noticed their carriage, bolting far too fast and far too purposefully away from the conflagration. A few barked orders were flung at them, ordering their wagon to halt while clamoring for the attention of the already panicked, disorganized men. The blade of Galina's [i]shashka[/i] flashed crimson and flame in the burning light, unsheathed in a single fluid motion as she crouched forward from the wagon's seat, perched for a single precarious instant on its edge as she found her balance in the chaos.

Silently, her lithe body moved swiftly and nimbly and without hesitation as Galina leapt for the back of the roan draft horse in front of her. With a quiet [i]oof[/i] of an exhalation she landed, her Cossack horseman's instincts taking over instantly as her free hand snarled itself in the wild lengths of mane, steadying her easily as her legs gripped the horse's heaving sides above the straps of leather harness.

Her [i]shashka[/i] held low in her expert grip, her attentions turned toward the large man sprinting at them, his expression contorted with a rage that could only mean that somehow, some way, he [i]knew[/i] what she and Souma had wrought in this place. Staff in hand, he bravely rushed the horse and the team, screaming his inarticulate fury as he made to bash one of the horse's heads. 

Galina's blade flashed upward and the down again in a single, seemingly effortless and fluid motion that belied all the skill behind it. Streamers of crimson followed her down stroke, and the man stumbled away screaming, blood spilling from between his fingers as he clutched at his face. Somewhere overhead, a single rifle shot rang out, a crack of thunder that ripped through the cacophony that reigned in the compound. Galina instinctively flattened herself over the horse's withers, realizing that the bullet had missed her at least, gone wide, but that was not the most immediate of their troubles.

The darkness of the gateway's tunnel artifice loomed ahead, the figures of the guards flanking the narrow sides of their passageway to freedom seemed not much more than jerkily moving blurs to her eyes, but she still made the calculations in her mind. They were going to close the gates. [i]'Dear God be merciful... '[/i] They were going to close the gates and there was no way for her to stop them in time, not where she was now.

"Eggs!" she shouted above the din as she tried to twist toward Souma behind her, praying he saw the danger too, and deciphered her cryptic call.