Strogoben stood before the cave entrance. Preparing himself mentally for the greatest challenge of his life. Something he had prepared for ever since he was a young child. He stood there silently. Breathing deeply. Taking in everything he could gather with his five senses and more.
They had been sharp enough to help him survive ever since beginning his journey to locate Venomshank, the Warblade of Ballara. His quest had begun many moons ago when he first arrived in Dysheimr.
Those who pointed the way had indicated the entrance at the Chambers of the Golden Raven. From there he had made his way down through the Haunt of the Thunder Giant. Struggling to find his way through the Maze of Destruction. And finally coming out through The Screaming Tunnels. And now he had arrived. His final destination.
The Lair of Vor’onuuth who was known among men as The Flames of Darkness.
If his sources were correct, this was where he would find the Warblade.
After catching his breath, Strogoben pressed forward through a portal that had been revealed only after releasing a burst of flames underneath it. It was designed that way so that only the dragonkin and those who could control fire might pass through.
Strogoben stepped through into the foreboding environment that awaited him. This one completely different from the previous he had encountered when stepping rough the Portal of the Golden Raven.
The air was dry and hot here. Bright strobes of light blinded him. Strogoben could feel his lungs burn with every breath. It was a harsh world. Reminding him of the desert he had traveled through as a child after the Jooppi tribe had wiped out his people and taken him captive.
There they had trained him to fight. Taught him magic and how to use the elements. Preparing him to take down small dragons in the desert single-handly. The Joopi had known his people were descended from the dragonkin. They wiped out the adults but kept all the small children alive.
Strogoben had been no more than seven when they had captured him. They loved his skills and abilities. The Joopi people had admired him. The chief had treated Strogoben like a pet though. Locking him in chains and using whips to keep him in line.
The chief had depended on his mage’s magic as well to keep the young boy obedient. But they hadn’t been enough to keep him down. He was careful to watch and observe everything the mage did.
He practiced and experimented at night on his own. When he grew strong enough, Strogoben broke free. Wreaked his revenge on the tribe of nomads who had destroyed his family. Strogoben had burned them all with fire. Battling their own mage had been no easy feat. But he did it. He had freed himself.
From there, Strogoben set out on his own. He had continued practicing and improving his skills over the years. And eventually, he had settled down in the region just south of Dysheimr. There he kept his skills a secret. Rarely using them.
Strogoben had lived their peacefully, planting a farm, and even taking a wife. He had married a beautiful young woman named Freygerd Styrbiorndottir.
But before they were married a year, the land had come under attack by the fire gnomes. They swept through taking cattle and sheep. Burning crops and destroying the farms as they went. Occasionally even taking humans as well.
And that was when they had taken Freygerd with them.
Strogoben was devastated. He spent weeks searching for the fire gnomes without luck. The burning trails they left behind all disappeared at the river they used to escape.
After searching high and low across the land, he came across an old priest who mentioned someone that might be able to help him.
Vor’onuuth. Part human. Part dragon. Part giant. Created by the engineers, he had escaped and wreaked havoc in the lower realms. Eventually, locked away and unable to return to the surface. The dangerous path to find Vor’onuuth, served just as much to keep him in as to keep others out.
Strogoben was willing to make the journey. Not to meet Vor’onuuth. What he really wanted was this Venomshank. An ancient weapon once left behind by the Engineers responsible for the dragonkin.
It had been lost after the great war by Strogoben’s ancestor who ruled the land. Strogoben had heard the stories and legends as a child. Those descended from the Dragonkin who had enough skill and power could wield the Warblade. Using it control any of the fire-based creatures under the Warblade’s command.
Strogoben hoped to use it to locate the fire gnomes and find his wife.
According to the priest though, the Warblade hadn’t been lost. It had actually been taken by the engineers. Some said they removed it from their game because it was too powerful of a weapon. Others said that they had locked it away with Vor’onuuth for safekeeping until such a time as one worthy to carry the blade should be able to take it from him. It was the Engineers way of leveling up the game and increasing the difficulty.
The village chieftain had been excited to hear that Strogoben would attempt to locate the Warblade. He gave the young man all the supplies the warrior could carry.
“The outer farms have come under attack, I’m sure we’ll be next to receive a beating by those brutes. I appreciate anything you can do to save us and stop those nasty gnomes. I’m in no state to fight, but I know you’ll manage without me. Please, take care of those gnomes for my people. I will give you anything you want, even up to half of the land I rule if you can find a way to stop their rampage.”
And so had begun Strogoben’s quest to find the warblade and stop the evil fire gnomes. That had been at least five moons ago. It was hard to keep track down here. He had crossed two different portals and had no idea if moons here were the same back in Dysheimr.
Strogoben had little hope of ever finding his wife, but he refused to let go of the idea that someday, somewhere, he would find Freygerd. Yet here he was, he had finally made it to the entrance of Vor’nuuth’s lair.
His heart thumped loudly. Partially with the excitement of being so close to finding the Warblade to find his wife and also from the nervousness of not knowing what danger he was about to face to achieve it.
Strogoben’s short, dark hair hung clumsily over his round, time-worn face. Bloodshot gray eyes, set wickedly within their sockets, watch warily for danger.
His freckles spread beautifully across his cheeks and forehead. Leaving a bittersweet memory of his adventurous love life with Freygerd many weeks ago. He was tall compared to most of those who lived around him. He had a light frame but was wiry and well-muscled from his years of preparation and formation.
People found him alluring. Perhaps it was his presence or perhaps simply the feeling of anguish after his wife’s kidnapping. But nonetheless, people tend to hit it off with him, while treating him to a good meal when he’s around.
Strogoben prided himself on what he called charm, wits, and good looks, as he had always joked about with Freygerd. But here in this dungeon where he was headed, Strogoben knew that it would take more than that. He would need more than charm and good looks to weasel a prized Warblade out of a dragon.
Strogoben came to a wide pair of granite doors in a small sultry grove. They marked the entrance down into the dungeon below. He continued through them cautiously. Beyond the doors lay a narrow, timeworn room at the bottom of the stairs. It was covered in mawt droppings, rubble, and large bones.
He could see remnants of what once must’ve been a mess hall of sorts, battered and wrecked by time itself.
Strogoben pressed on through till he came to two tunnels. He sensed that the right was a dead end. He didn’t know how he knew it exactly, but he did. He had learned to trust his instincts long ago in the desert where it was often a matter of life or death. Survival belonged to the fittest and the smartest. Rarely giving second chances to those who failed to get it right the first time.
The twisted trail continued to lead downwards and soon he entered an eerie area filled with tombs. Their owners were no longer in their graves where they belonged but had been dragged out and spread across the floor.
“What happened in this place?” Strogoben thought to himself.
He cautiously proceeded onwards, deeper into the dark shadows. He passed dozens of similar rooms and passages, each with their own twists, turns, and destinations. But eventually, Strogoben made it to what he thought was the final room.
An immense granite door blocked his path. Various odd symbols were scratched into it, somehow untouched by time and the elements. He stepped closer to inspect it and listened quietly. It seemed as if he could hear a scratching sound coming from behind the door.
Strogoben pulled his dragon-skinned jacket closer around him. He had purchased it brand-new in the market before leaving on his journey. And then had an old dragon mage etch protective runes into the scales and a large protective sigil on the back.
But now it was tattered and threadbare. Barely tied together with some old string he had picked up to replace the buttons that had long since fallen off in his runs through the tunnels to escape the grey cave mawts and in his struggles against the Aracni’s that often attacked while he slept.
The jacket had a wide, round neckline which reveals part of the worn-out yellow shirt below it. And over that a faded black belt, which was tied everything together. The belt had initially been bought on a whim to as an accessory to the rest of his look, based on the recommendation of the pretty young saleswoman at the market.
But now, they were absolutely necessary to holding up his pants since he had lost much weight on the journey. With little time to find and prepare food along with the extra exercise, Strogoben had returned back to the lean, ripped form he possessed in the desert before softening up during his good life at Dysheimr.
His pants were still in good shape, all things considered. They were simple and of a comfortable fit. Reaching down to his bound cloth shoes. The shoes were made from an unusual cloth that wasn’t dragonskin. But the shoemaker demonstrated to him that they were fireproof as well. Other than that though, his shoes looked no different from any other shoes he could have bought at the market.
Strogoben tightened his belt around his waist and the shoes around his feet. He wanted to be ready to face whatever creature lay behind those doors. Vor’nuuth or not.
He slid his shield down off his back. Strogoben affectionately called it Eclipse. He had taken it from an enemy who had challenged him in the desert. He had looked for another shield to replace it, but had never found anything this good.
It was an impressive round shield made from ironbark that offered stalwart cover against arrows and bolts. Extremely strong because it was forged by lunar dragonkin in a storm workshop. The shield’s edges embellished with spikes and decorated with metalwork emblems of victory and personal accomplishments at the center. It’s clear this shield has seen glory and victory. Dints and dents made by who knows what. But one thing is sure, this shield isn’t done serving just yet.
In the end, Strogoben decided to just keep it and stop looking for another shield. Once he found out where it had been made, he tracked down the old lunar dragonkin blacksmith that had made it and requested a matching sword. It was a long, strong blade that had served him well over the years.
The young man shook himself off and stepped forward to figure out how to open the door. It opened instantly without him even having to raise a finger. That was surprising since most of the others had required the activation of a rune or resolving of a puzzle before he could pass.
Strogoben quickly leaped off to the side, in case any foul creature came charging through. But there was only silence. He couldn’t see much past the threshold. It was pitch black. Even for his eyes. And that was because Strogobend’s eyes were powerful enough to walk through caves and tunnels without needing to light a torch.
He waited for a few seconds, but when nothing else happened, he stepped through. The impression that he had was of something or someone actively absorbing all of the light in the room. It was the strangest sensation. Then he remembered the name of the creature.
Vor’nuuth, also known as the Flames of Darkness.
Strogobend had assumed that it was simply a name given by storytellers and adventurers seeking to embellish their stories. But now that he was here, he realized that the name fit perfectly.
He sucked his breath in short shallow gasps. The heat was intense. Not enough to burn him yet. But still enough to make him uncomfortable even in his dragon skin clothing and flameproof shoes. He could sense the protective sigil on his back being activated as designed to do if he got into a firefight with a dragon. He sensed the familiar hum of energy as it began to glow.
The glow was enough to light up the area immediately surrounding him. But even that was dulled and faded at more than a few feet away from him.
Strogoben took a few more steps deeper into the darkness. He heard a loud hiss off to his left and paused. Something rustled in the darkness. Then the sound of muttering as if someone were awakening from a deep slumber. There was a small clink and rattle as it moved around.
He couldn’t see what was there and what was coming, so he ducked down to make himself smaller in case it tried to target him. He raised his shield in front of him. There were several more whispers and rattles. Then the room fell silent again.
After a few moments, he took another step forward. A loud voice challenged him from the darkness.
“Who goes there? And what do you want?”
Strogoben leaped back and spread his arms out as he crouched low once more.
“Hurry up, I tell you. I don’t have all day. There’s no sense in sneaking around. I can see you just fine.”
The man stood up and straightened his clothing with his sword hand. He bowed stiffly even though he couldn’t tell exactly which direction the voice was coming from as it boomed loudly all around him and echoed off the walls of the dungeon.
Strogoben cleared his throat before answering.
“Hello there! How are you? I’m quite fine thank you. It’s a great pleasure to meet you. Even though I can’t see you.” he shouted out.
His voice didn’t boom loudly like the others. It sounded rather weak and hollow. Even after he tried to deepen it toward the end.
“Oh, right? Excuse my rudeness,” Vor’nuuth replied with as rasp somewhere between a snicker and a growl. “Where are my manners? Oh, yeah. I do that so people who walk in with their sword drawn and shield up ready for battle can’t attack me.”
“That’s quite understandable,” Strogoben replied a little ashamed of himself. “It’s just that I heard something scratching the door. I didn’t want it rushing out to attack me unaware.”
“That was one of my pets. I pulled it out of the way and tied it up to keep it from escaping as soon as I heard the door opening. But don’t you think it’s a bit rude to just walk into my home without knocking? What do you think would happen if you walked into a human home unannounced and their dog bit you because they didn’t know that you were coming over. Would it be their fault for not warning them or theirs for not tying it up?”
“Yes, I do see your point,” Strogoben said with a weak laugh. “Sorry, I should have knocked. I just didn’t know where to announce my coming. The door swung open automatically.”
“Hmm! I wondered how you got in so fast. I’ve never had anyone break through before, although many have tried. I do suppose that means you are here for the Warblade then as most who make the journey down here. Eh?”
“You are so wise and intelligent, great Vor’nuuth,” he said using his old tactic of buttering up the Joopi as they thrived off it.
“Oh, come on. Don’t think I’m going to fall for that malarkey now. Do you? You don’t even know me and you come barging in her talking like that, it’s obviously not true.” Vor’nuuth growled. “So, state your case and tell me why I should hand over Warblade.”
That last part took Strogoben back a bit. He hadn’t expected to just walk in and ask for it, much less have the creature just hand it over.”
“So, how many others have made it down here?” he asked.
“Three, in the past two hundred years.” the monster in the darkness replied.
Strogoben let out a low whistle. “Guess you don’t get many visitors. Huh?”
Vor’nuuth let out a loud laugh. “I guess. Right?”
The human stepped back as the peals of laughter continued to ring around him.
“You are funny, human. I will give you that. Now state your name, and I will provide some light for you to see me.”
“Strogoben of Dysheimr,” he replied loudly, emboldened by the creature’s laughter.
“Dysheimr,” Vor’nuuth growled. “Don’t lie to me human. There are none of your kind in Dysheimr.”
“My kind?” he asked hoarsely. “I wasn’t born there, but that is where I have been living for the past few years. I was enslaved and taken from my home when I was yet a child. So, I never knew the name of my city. It was wiped out by the Joopi.”
“So, why do you seek the Warblade?” Vor’nuuth hissed quietly.
Strogoben could hear the voice loudly though and sensed that it had moved closer. He wanted to duck instinctively into his shield in case he spat dark flames in his direction. But he resisted the urge to flinch and stood firm.
“I remember that my family was descended from Harald the Stout of Novgorod who once wielded Venomshank. I have come to claim what belongs to my bloodline,” he said, half-expecting the beast to take that as a challenge to fight.
“Yes, that’s obvious, since you were able to enter my lair so easily. Only those of your bloodline have been granted access. My question is why you seek it now. What do you hope to accomplish with it?”
Strogoben breathed a bit easier. Maybe this wouldn’t be as difficult as he thought.
“I come for love!” he declared boldly, hoping to pull on the creature’s emotional strings if it had any.
“Love. Huh? That sounds typically human.” Vor’nuuth snorted. “Flowers and sweet treats were created to woo love. The Warblade was created for blood and battle. Guts and glory. Most only come looking for Venomshank when they are beyond despair and have no other hope of achieving the vengeance or salvation their soul desires. I’m afraid you come to the wrong place looking for the wrong thing.”
“But it’s not. I mean I haven’t come to the wrong place. I’m looking for all of that. I seek vengeance against those who have taken my love from me. I will do battle against them. And as for glory, I will receive my own kingdom if I defend the realm of Dysheimr.”
“Hmm. Oh my. That does sound like a worthy cause. Maybe you will be willing to pay the price.” the creature muttered. “Who took your love from you and threatens Drysheimr?”
“The fire gnomes,” Strogoben spat quietly.
“Argh!” Vor’nuuth growled. “I knew that those little rascals would be nothing but trouble. I tried to put a stop to them, but they wouldn’t let me. The Engineers locked up down here for meddling.”
“Why?” Strogoben asked.
“Why what?” Vor’nuuth asked. “Why did I meddle? Or why did they lock me up?”
“Well, both are good questions, I guess,” Strogoben replied. “Someone told me that you were locked up for wreaking havoc in the lower realms. They made it sound like you were somewhat of a troublemaker.”
“Is that what they say about me. Do they?”
There was a flicker in the darkness. It didn’t last long and was really low, yet brought relief to Strogoben’s eyes since they had been staring into nothing but pitch black darkness the entire time.
Slowly, the dungeon around him began to come into view. There was a light glow off the walls around him. Eventually, a dark form began to take shape before him. It wasn’t so much that light came into the room, but rather that this creature, whatever it was, stopped absorbing what little light was available in the room around them.
As it did so, the heat seemed to let up a little in the room. The impression that Strogoben had was that the dark flames had diminished and regular flames began to take their place. It was the strangest sensation he had ever experienced.
The smell of burning sulfur filled the air around him, and Strogoben had to close his nostrils and cover his mouth with his jacket to breathe without gagging.
As the beast came into view there was a sparkle in the smoke, a cracking of wood, and suddenly he was met with an outlandish beast of smoke and flame. The first thing that stood out at him were two huge, desolate eyes staring back at him with harrowing excitement, and another sparkle thundered from its ridged mouth as if to summon others. Several sharp teeth poke out from the side of its mouth and give a preview of the terror hiding inside.
The eyes were almost level with him, but as Vor’nuuth stood to his full height, they rose quickly towering above Strogoben. Almost five times the height of the human. And that was only from the knees up because the giant stood in a pit filled with the strange flames.
Four horns adorned its the creature’s bony, angular skull that sat atop a broad, robust body. Two smaller horns in the center which gave the creature a very ominous looking appearance. Along with two larger ones rooted into the sides of its rugged head. A constant plume of smoke escaped the creature’s narrow nostrils set within a hollow nose.
Its skin was blackened and charred. Continuously burning off in ashes that floated carelessly off the burning red flesh that burned underneath. The skin seemed to simply replace itself before burning off again.
The first thought that came to his mind when he saw it was that a giant bull wanted to barbecue itself and built the firepit that it was roasting itself in. Strogoben would have burst out laughing if he hadn’t been so terrified.
The creature strode closer toward Strogoben. Two muscular limbs carried its body and allowed the creature to stand noble and elevated. Each limb had 4 digits, each of which ended in pointy talons seemingly made of onyx. Its legs gracefully carried its fiery body with a hurried energy. Its movements were playful, yet determined.
Strogoben took a step back. Away from the edge of the pit where he had been standing. If the creature hadn’t spoken up, he probably would have fallen into the pit with the black flames.
Though now, he could no longer see them. Regular yellow, orange, and reddish flames leaped up over the edge casting an eerie glow over the creature and across the room.
Steam and heat wafted up out of the pit around Strogoben. Not that it had really diminished or grown hotter, but there was a definite difference in the type of heat that the flames were putting off. The light colorful flames seemed bright and cheery compared to the previous dark flames. Those had been oppressive. Seemingly sucking the life and energy out of the room.
“Well, I meddled with the Engineers because they created the fire gnomes from my own flesh and fire. It was a little experiment they were doing on me for their game. They wanted me to continuously be generating little fire gnomes. Like these things would just pop out of my flesh and take off screaming. I knew they were bad news, and it hurt like water being poured on my flesh. That’s why I wreaked havoc in the lower realms and became a troublemaker. Because I wouldn’t let them do what they wanted with me.”
“So, they didn’t lock you up down here? You created this place for yourself.” Strogoben said as it dawned on him.
“Well, I didn’t create it. It already existed. I destroyed it and made it more to my liking.” Vor’nuuth said with a grin.
“How would destroying it make it more to your liking?”
“They released me as a weapon against a civilization created by another engineer. The fire gnomes annihilated it. I felt horrible. So, I tracked down the Engineers who had released me. And this was where I found them. I killed most of them. A few escaped. They tried to take it back, but they didn’t stand a chance against their most powerful creation. Here I’m safe and comfortable.”
Strogoben looked around and noticed that it was absent of any fire gnomes.
“The flames of darkness prevent you from producing any more of those nasty little critters?” he queried.
The giant nodded.
“It burns them off before the can form in my flesh and come out through my skin.”
Strogoben winced.
“Ouch, that must really hurt.”
“Not really. It just numbs me. And it’s a lot less painful than birthing fire gnomes out from under my skin.”
Strogoben really did feel sorry for the creature. Here he had come ready to fight to the death to kill it. If he had known the fire gnomes had come from Vor’nuuth, he would have tried to kill it without asking questions. And here it had locked itself away and was doing everything it could to keep from producing more.
“Wow. I’m really sorry about that. I had no idea. That must be awful. It’s like a fate worse than death.”
Vor’nuuth smiled sadistically.
“You don’t think I brought the Warblade along with me for nothing did you?”
“What do you mean?” Strogoben asked.
“I knew that if I continued running around out there, the fire gnomes would continue to propogate. And I had no idea where to find those of your bloodline. I would release too many fire gnomes across the land on my journey. So, I brought it with me so that those of your kind would come to me.”
“You want me to use Venomshank to kill you and put you out of your misery?”
Vor’nuuth nodded and fell to his knees. Lowering his giant head till his eyes were level with Strogoben.
“I will give you the Warblade willingly. I don’t want to suffer anymore. It takes three days of pure agony to give birth to a batch of fire gnomes when I’m not near the dark flames. But I don’t want to while away my days here in this pit any longer. Besides, the flames are growing weaker. They aren’t as strong as they once were. Once they die out, my suffering resumes.”
Strogoben’s heart went out for the poor suffering creature. He slid his sword back into its sheath and stepped forward.
“I came here to fight you for the Warblade. Even planned to kill you if necessary. Not that I probably could anyway. I really had no idea what to expect. I thought you were like a dragon or something. But seeing you in this situation is horrible. It’s ridiculous that someone would do this to you and make you suffer so. There has to be something we can do to stop it.”
The giant dragon demon thing, whatever Vor’nuuth was, just shrugged.
“I’m tired of the struggle. Two hundred years. Wasting away. It seems pointless. Like I’m putting off the inevitable. Just waiting for something worse to happen.”
“Like what? What could be worse than this? You’re still alive. That’s what counts.”
Vor’nuuth threw his head back and laughed mockingly.
“Great. Woo. I’m living. Yee ha. Holed up here in this fire pit of oppressive heat and darkness just to keep from feeling worse. Put yourself in my place. You would be grateful.”
“Surely, there is something you can do. Someone who can help you. An Engineer who can reverse the effects.”
Vor’nuuth pointed to his back and stood again. There was a large yellow sigil that lit up around his back and head. Strogoben had seen it earlier, but hadn’t paid much attention to it. It was a large, glowing circle with runes around the edges.
“The Engineers have branded me. This seal was placed upon me when I officially joined their game. None of this clan will dare to go against it. and none of the other clans are allowed to touch it, lest they be cast out. It’s hopeless.”
“You mean you willingly submitted yourself to this?” Strogoben asked incredulously.
“Yes. I mean not this exactly. They promised me power and wealth and all kinds of amazing things I never dreamed of. Once I was in, it was too late. I couldn’t back out. And this was the result.”
Vor’nuuth knelt back down and leaned forward. He reached out one long finger of his right hand. There was a sword balanced on the tip of his finger. Strogoben sucked in his breath. This was it. This was the warblade. One of the finest ever forged in the mines of Ballara on the other side of the continent.
It was exquisite. Even more amazing then he had imagined. He could feel the power that had been forged into it emanating directly into his body. Strogoben could feel the connection it had to his blood. It recognized him as one authorized to wield it in all its power and glory.
Strogoben wanted to reach out and take it immediately, but he pulled himself back.
“I can’t kill you if you give it to me,” he said softly.
“But you would have killed me in a fair fight to take it from me by force?” Vor’nuuth spat indignantly. “You humans and your sense of justice.”
Strogoben shrugged. “It’s different.”
“Oh! So, it okay to kill me against my will, but if I give you permission, then suddenly you have moral qualms about taking my life. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of.”
The human shrugged again. The fiery beast sighed.
“Fine. Let’s do it. We shall duel to the death.” Vor’nuuth declared, standing again to his full height.
“That’s silly,” Strogoben spat out. “You’re just going to let me kill you. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.”
“Yeah. Is that what you think.” Vor’nuuth said stepping up out of the pit and placing his giant foot beside Strogoben.
The human leaped back. He stumbled and tripped over a stone. Strogoben hit the ground hard and rolled over. Trying to get back onto his feet while pulling out his sword at the same time. He raised his shield and continued to back up as the giant set his other foot outside the pit.
Strogoben dashed for the door, but Vor’nuuth didn’t even have to take another step to stop him. The large creature simply reached over the man’s head and blocked the exit. Then he opened his mouth and spewed out a stream of yellow fire.
The shield barely protected him from the blast of heat. Strogoben could feel the flames curling around the edges as he put his head down to protect his eyes. If it had been for his dragon skin jacket and hood, he would have been toast. He could sense the protective sigil on his back absorbing a good portion of the heat as well.
His toes started to heat up. Strogoben looked down to see what was going on. The shoes were still holding up well against the flames as well. He was glad he had paid the extra gold to get this pair. Others had been cheaper and even more comfortable. But he had taken these anyway in case he had to face a situation like this.
It had happened once before. In one of his first dragon fights. The Joppi hunted them for their skin. It was just a small dragon. Probably a baby that didn’t know how to fight very well. But it still managed to get off a puff of fire that burned and blistered his feet. He had learned to go in to any dragon fight well protected.
Being forced to hunt the skins for the Joopi was why Strogoben had refused to ever buy clothes made of dragon skin after that. But before making this journey, he had known he would need them. So, he made sure that the clothes he picked up did not come from the Joopi marketers.
Strogoben was glad for the shoes. They really did protect his feet even better than a pair with dragon skin soles. He barely even sensed this toes warming up.
As soon as the blast of fire from Vor’nuuth shut down, Strogoben stood up and raced to the side to get behind some protective rocks. But before he could make it, two blazing beams of light shooting from the monster’s eyes blasted the rocks to smithereens.
That brought Strogoben up short. He changed direction and raced directly toward the giant beast’s legs. At least there it wouldn’t shoot itself in the foot or try burning it’s own leg. At least that’s what he hoped anyway.
The warrior leaped up onto its feet and looked up. It’s mouth glowed once again, and Strogoben leaped off to get behind it just as a quick blast of flame burst out around him.
It took a moment for the creature to realize where the human had disappeared to in the flames. Strogoben took advantage of the time to catch his breath. He was furious. There was no escaping this place or the monster. He didn’t want to kill it, but he didn’t see any other options.
It was either kill or be killed.
Strogoben didn’t even know if he could kill this creature. Something this powerful would surely take some sort of magic or power that he didn’t know if he possessed. He was a good fighter. Wielded his fair share of power. But he had never fought anything this size.
He decided to give it a go though and see what kind of damage he could do. Strogoben raised his sword and leaped at the monster’s calf. He drove his sword deep into its flesh and pulled down as hard as he could leaving a large gash in its flesh. The beast gave a mighty roar and jerked its leg up, pulling Srogoben up with it.
The movement flung the human across the room and sent his sword flying. The creature thrashed madly around. Shattering the stalactites and stalagmites from around himself. In one of his thrashes, it smashed its head against one that didn’t shatter. It stumbled forward and fell to its knees. Grabbing its face it let out a horrible roar. Then it leaned forward and slowly toppled to the floor.
Strogoben leaped to his feet and raced for his sword. He picked it up with both hands and waited for Vor’nuuth to rise again. But it lay still. The warrior walked forward to take a closer look at his mighty foe.
“C’mon. It couldn’t have been that easy.” he said, reaching forward to give it a quick jab in the face with his sword.
Vor’nuuth winched at the pain and opened one eye.
“Oh, seriously. You didn’t finish me when you had the chance.” the monster ground. “C’mon. You were supposed to finish me. That was your cue. Slice my head off and put me out of my misery.”
“You wouldn’t have stood the pain two seconds. As soon as he started sawing away at your head, you would have screamed like a baby dragon. The slammed me across the room.”
Vor’nuuth chuckled bitterly.
“Yeah, I suppose so. I don’t really want to die. But I just don’t see any other way out of this misery.”
“Why don’t you let me try to find some help for you. Give me the sword, and exchange, I will seek out one of these Engineers who can help you.”
The giant growled and shook his head as he sat back up.
“How do I know you won’t just run away with it. Or worse yet die out there trying to fight the fire gnomes to save your wife. Then I’ll be stuck down here still with no way to attract another one of your kind to kill me.”
“Yeah, I guess you could just wait down here for another 200 years to see if anyone shows up. Though, by then, everyone may have forgotten about you and that stupid sword.”
Vor’nuuth spat angrily at the thought and pulled himself up. He scooted back toward his pit.
“I don’t have long before I need to start up the dark flames again. You should leave.”
“C’mon. I’m your best chance. Let me try. Send one of your pets along with me to keep an eye out for me. It can help me. And if I die, it can bring the Warblade back to you.”
“I suppose I could send Milsa with you. But what would you do to help me?”
Strogoben placed his sword back in his sheath and bowed low. Even getting down on one knee. Tell me what you would have me do. If you grant me the sword that I may save my love and avenge myself on the fire gnomes to obtain my half of the kingdom, I would spare no expense or effort to attempt to help you obtain relief from this horrible suffering.”
Vor’nuuth growled and then sighed.
“What choice do I have in the matter. It is what it is. If it is to be, it is to be.”
He leaned down to Strogoben and handed him the Warblade once again. The human took it carefully with both hands. He felt it hum in his grip. It felt perfectly balanced. Everything he had ever imagined in the perfect sword.
Venomshank was a hundred times better than his current sword.
“Three months. Find a way to free me from these flames, or else return to kill me. That is my condition. After that, you may seek to free your wife.”
“No, that’s impossible!” Strogoben roared.
“Three months is more than enough time,” Vor’nuuth shot back.
“It took me more than three months to find this place. Now, I have to go back and start looking again. Even if I find it, I still have to return all the way back here. But that’s not the point. I have to save my wife first. She may die or worse happen to her if I don’t find her soon.”
Vor’nuuth shook his head. Three months is all I will accept. Return quickly. Otherwise, at the end of this time, I will return to hunt you down until you kill me. If you don’t I will destroy everything you hold dear and everyone you love for making me suffer by leaving these dark flames to produce more fire gnomes.
“But you’ve been down here two hundred years. What are a couple of more months? Even a year?” Strogoben cried in anguish, trying to figure out how he was going to find his wife and save this beast in three short months.
“I will go directly to the fire gnomes, find your wife myself, and then come after you to kill her before your very eyes. Return in three months. Kill me. Then continue to search for her.”
“But she is in immediate danger, and you aren’t. You are safe here.” Strogoben exclaimed in exasperation. “Please. I have to help her first to have a clear head to focus on your problem. I will do my best. I just need to help her to get that cleared off my plate. Then I will do everything in my power to help you. Even if it takes twenty years. I won’t give up on you.”
Vor’nuuth growled and turned away. Settling down deep into his pit of dark flames. They slowly began to rise up around him. Extinguishing the light from around the dungeon. That darkness began to take over the room. The dark flames absorbing the light in the room. The giant fading away into the darkness of the flames licking up around him.
Soon, the only thing that Strogoben could see was the yellow glow of his eyes. Unblinking. Staring back at him out of the darkness.
“Fine. Save the woman if you must before helping me. But that doesn’t diminish the time frame. Three months to save her, find a way to help me and return here for my judgment if the solution is acceptable.”
Strogoben nodded and bowed low.
“I swear that I will do my very best to resolve this as swiftly as I can. You have my eternal gratefulness, and I owe you more than you can ever demand of me. I will return at the end of three moons, whether I have found my wife or a suitable solution for you. If I don’t return it is because I am either dead or imprisoned against my will.”
The room was almost completely pitch black once again. Strogoben heard Vor’nuuth shift down deeper into the flames.
“Go,” the creatures sighed. “May Mishal help you, guide you, and protect you. She is of the fire too, so you can control her with the Warblade. May your journey be as swift as your vengeance when you come upon the fire gnomes.”
Strogoben backed toward the door. A quiet patter followed him. He could hear the creature’s nails clicking on the floor as it walked.
When he got back out through the doors, the slid shut behind him automatically. Strogoben looked down once again at Venomshank in his hand. It was amazing. And he was so excited to have the possibility of saving his wife.
He glanced over at the creature that had followed him. It looked like one of the doberman pinchers the king of Drysheimr raised. Only this one was twice as large and pure black. Even its eyes were completely dark. No whites at all.
“C’mon, Mishal. We have a great adventure ahead of us. And there is no time to waste. We should try to make it back out of here over the next three days. We shall have to fly. But I’m glad to have your companionship on this journey.”
The creature cocked its head to the side and wagged its tail briefly. Then it pushed on past him and took the lead as if it understood wher he wanted to go.
Strogoben followed close behind it. Pleased to not be alone. It was late and it had been a long day. He would soon be tired. But he wanted to get out of this dungeon before finding a place to settle down for the night.
He continued to walk along behind Mishal as he admired Venomshank. Hardly believing that he actually had it in his possession. Especially since he didn’t have to take it by force or even kill the giant who had given it to him.
Strogoben smiled. Finally, things were starting to look for him.
“Hang on, love of my life. I’m coming for you. I will not stop until I have found you.”
They made a strange pair as they pressed though the cavern. The human and a large, black dog that was almost as tall as he was. He could sense that they would hit it off well and have many adventures together.
I’ve had this story idea in my head for a very long time, but never really figured out how to write it because of its premise is a bit unique. But I finally decided to tackle it today for my Patreon students and readers till I found my way through it. I think it works, Read it and tell me what you think.
Just to give you some background here, this is one of the stories set in the Edge of the Universe Series about a programmer called Jenny who has been working on a top-secret army project to create clones. After a series of problems and losing the love of her life in the process, Jenny discovers a way to transfer people’s minds from one body to another. General Bart hijacks her project though and this story is where we end up.
The smoke still wafted from the barrel of the gun in his hands. The sound of the shot hadn’t yet reached her ears. Maybe it was the shock of getting shot that blocked out the sound.
Jenny looked down at the small hole in her shirt. Quickly turning red as the life-giving fluid seeped from her body. She reached down and touched it lightly. Still not feeling anything. Surreal. Almost as if she were in a dream.
She looked back up into the eyes of General Bart, now using President Kent’s body. She cocked her head to the side. His lips were moving, but Jenny couldn’t hear the words coming out of his mouth.
It sounded like he was saying, “What goes around, comes around.”
Jenny had tried to shoot him earlier. Though she had missed. She looked back down at the wound in her side. Well, in General Bart’s side since she was using his body.
The pain exploded in her side as she pressed her finger into the bullet hole to staunch the bleeding. The shock was wearing off and her senses were returning.
Jenny screamed in anger and frustration at the sudden turn of events. This hadn’t gone down at all like she had expected after losing the element of surprise.
Her voice came out all wrong. Thick and deep. Then she remembered that it wasn’t her voice. Jenny was no longer in her own body. Her body lay back in the warehouse lab.
General Bart had used her project to hijack the president’s body and then locked her up till he needed her again. She had transferred herself into General Bart’s body to escape and hunt the man down.
And now, she had been shot. Jenny would die. General Bart would get to rule the country in the president’s body that he had hijacked. And no one would be the wiser. And it would all be her fault.
Jenny looked up into the barrel of the gun and knew she had to do something fast. She analyzed the railing over the balcony just behind the General. Three stories up.
It would be painful. But as long as she didn’t die in the fall she might be able to pull this off. It was her only choice. If she tried to transfer out now, he would simply call one of the soldiers back at the warehouse to locate her original body and put her down.
Jenny raised her hand in front of the gun as if trying to say something and slowly stood up. The general took a step back and relaxed his stance as he waited.
He grinned that same stupid, arrogant grin that she hated — gloating that he had had the upper hand the entire time.
But as soon as she had risen to her feet, Jenny threw herself at him. The General’s original body that she was now in was almost twice the size of the president’s body that Bart now possessed.
Jenny hit him hard, and it wasn’t even much of a struggle to push him over the railing.
They both fell through the air. A quick, short free fall three stories down.
Jenny relaxed her body and tried to land upright to take the fall on her legs with a roll to the side to protect her head like she had learned to do in her parkour training classes.
But it didn’t do much good. Jenny’s legs snapped under her before she could get the roll in. Her body basically just flopped to the side. But she was alive, and that was all that mattered.
General Bart lay there unconscious. Jenny just needed a way to contact Al for him to pull her out of the General’s broken body. She half-rolled and half-dragged herself over to paw through his pockets for his cell.
It wasn’t in his pants pockets. Her heart froze for an instant. But she continued searching and felt it in the inside pocket of his coat. She sighed in relief and tugged it out. But when she looked at it, the screen was blank.
Jenny groaned as she tried to turn it back on. It took a few seconds to respond, but the screen finally lit up. She sighed in relief.
The General came to and lay there stunned for a brief second before he let out a spew of curses between the screams of pain and anger. Jenny dialed the number and hit the call button as she rolled away from him.
“Yeah, it’s me. Get me out of here. And put the General back where he belongs.”
General Bart froze for an instant as he realized what she was doing.
“No, leave the president where he is. His body is too far gone. We’ll have to make him a clone.”
“You can’t do that too me,” the General screamed at her. “You can’t put me back in that body. My legs are broken. I’ve been shot.”
Jenny grinned painfully, “You should have thought of that before shooting me. Well, I mean yourself. Or whoever this body belongs to. This is so confusing.”
She closed her eyes and waited for Al to complete the transfer. Jenny grinned at the thought of General Bart waking back up in his own body. The one she had been using.
Jenny started to laugh, but it hurt too much.
“What’s so funny,” he growled.
“Karma, baby. You reap what you sow. Literally, because you shot yourself. How’s that for a taste of your own medicine.”
She felt a strange numbness wash over her. Jenny wasn’t sure if this was from the transfer back to her original self or the sensation of death sweeping over the body she was now in.
“What goes, comes around,” she murmured as she drifted off into the darkness that washed over her.
Thank you for reading this short story. I really appreciate it because they mean a lot to me. They are part of a series of books that I’ve been working on called Edge of the Universe. The main story revolves around a naive Brazilian scientist.
Art develops technology that can splice DNA among living organisms. He hopes to solve major problems like world hunger and curing all diseases. But evil corporations want to get their hands on his project. The first book in the series is called ‘Rise’. You can download and read book 1 on Amazon for FREE >>
P.S. I write these stories for my English students, so if you are learning English as a Second language and have questions about any vocabulary words or their pronunciations, feel free to ask in the comments below.
Carl walked down the street casually. Not really walking fast. Not really walking slow. He had no specific destination in mind. Nowhere definite to go. Just meandering along. Out and about for an afternoon stroll.
He had time to kill. A lot of it. For now anyway. But it wouldn’t last long. So, he wanted to enjoy it.
It was a good day. He was happy. More than happy, Carl was in love. He had recently met this really cute chic. Sharp-witted. Smart as a dart. Very energetic. Extremely adventurous. Yes, she was single, he had gathered. And to top it all off, he was going to get to see her every day.
There was only one problem. She would be Carl’s boss. Yep. She was going to be ordering him around, and he didn’t know how he felt about that. He wanted to ask her out. During his first interview with her. Tell her that he loved her. Wanted to spend every possible second with her.
But he could foresee a lot of potential problems and pitfalls with that. He knew it wouldn’t be easy to navigate both a professional and private relationship with someone like that. If things didn’t pan out between them, that could really put a damper on a future promotion or even his career.
And if they had problems at work, that could sour their relationship. Carl thought about turning in his resignation right after the first interview. But that would be stupid because he didn’t even know if he stood a chance with her.
However, with the way she made him feel, Carl was almost willing to take the risk to find out. Resign from the job he hadn’t even received yet. And ask her out.
He knew that the company had a strict policy about managers dating their subordinates. And if he read her correctly, he knew that she wouldn’t even accept an invitation for coffee with an employee to avoid any wrong appearances or give herself the chance to be tempted to break that rule.
Carl knew he was probably over exaggerating, but she seemed like the type that took herself seriously. Way too seriously. Completely unlike Carl. He always wanted to find out what the rules were so he could break them.
Rules were made to be broken.
That was his philosophy in life. He lived and died by it. Not because he enjoyed being a rebel, but because he wanted to push back the boundaries. Explore his limits. Find out how to do things faster and better than anyone before him.
Obviously, he was careful to make sure that no one got harmed in the process. Because it wasn’t about trying to prove himself to anyone. It was just that he enjoyed the challenge of pushing himself to see how far he could go. How much he could get done.
Carl knew that would be the most significant source of conflict between him and Hanna. She would be the one making the rules and telling him what to do. But he would always be pushing them back. Playing around with them. He knew that it wouldn’t be long before they had their first run in. Not that he would purposefully try to irritate her, but he knew that it would happen.
He had always irritated his superiors. Even when he got great results that exceeded their expectations. His managers and bosses would still get their panties all up in a wad because he hadn’t done it the ‘right’ way.
Carl didn’t understand why they preferred to follow the company rules and policies instead of striving to become the best they could be. Even if that meant switching things up.
He hated company politics. Always having to play the corporate game. Sucking up to somebody else for a promotion instead of just earning the right to advancement and higher pay based on results and exceeding expectations.
He sighed and shook his head to himself as he stopped at the crosswalk. He waited for traffic to let up or the light to stop them.
Someday, he would start his own company. Then he could make his own rules and policies. He could strive to exceed himself without anyone else trying to push him back down or pull his rug out from under him.
Carl would run his company by giving his employees all the support and free reign they needed to get better than average results. He would only promote and recognize those who were willing to go all out like himself.
He already had some great ideas for different businesses that he wanted to start and companies he hoped to run. But for that, he needed to raise capital. A lot more capital. It wasn’t that he didn’t make good money, just that he often spent more than he made.
That was a habit he needed to break. Not that he planned on downgrading his lifestyle or cutting back on his expenditures. No, he needed to find a way to make a lot more money.
This job was the first step in that direction. Not only was the salary three times more than he had ever made before, but it would allow Carl to get even more training and experience in his field of expertise. As well as open doors to other potential people, positions, and partnerships that had currently been closed to him.
The light turned red. Cars stopped. Carl crossed the street and continued walking as he pondered his options.
No, he needed this job. He was going to take it if they offered it to him. He wasn’t going to turn it down on a whim. He’d still get his chance to sweep Hanna off her feet later.
He had a good feeling about this. He knew he had impressed Hanna and the HR manager. He knew that they were only undecided between him and one other candidate.
Hanna had told him as much at the end of the interview. So, now he just had to wait for her decision.
He just reached the following corner when a man came rushing by and almost rammed into him.
“Hey, watch it, buddy!” Carl shouted after him.
But the man was long gone. He hadn’t stuck around. Much less tried to apologize. Carl shook his head in disgust. People around here could be so rude.
Carl walked on a few more steps before realizing his cell phone was gone. The realization of what had just happened suddenly hit him.
“Argh!” he yelled in frustration.
Several passersby turned to look at him. Others still coming in his direction widened their path to walk out around him and avoid getting near him.
“You okay, dude?” someone asked.
“Someone just stole my phone,” Carl growled. “Bumped into me like he was in hurry. I didn’t even realize it.”
“Sounds like old James. The homeless bum. He’s always around here. Pickpocketing, stealing, you name it. The only thing I haven’t heard anyone complain about is him outright holding someone up.”
Carl thanked him for the information and kept on walking.
“Wait, man. Aren’t you going after him?” the passerby shouted after him. “At least register a complaint down at the precinct.”
“Nah, I got better things to do with my time,” Carl yelled back over his shoulder.
It was an old phone anyway. Time to upgrade to a new one. He spotted a phone store down the street and headed for it.
Just as he got to the door, the same passerby came up behind him.
“Hey,” he said and tapped Carl on the shoulder.
Carl turned around and raised his eyebrow.
“Here’s your phone back.”
“Oh, thanks,” Carl said suspiciously, wondering how the man got it back so quickly and what he would want as a reward.
“Also, here’s a new company phone. Hanna will call you on it in a few minutes.”
Carl took it. The confusion obvious on his face.
“I work at Hanna’s company. I’m a research psychologist. We’ve been following you and analyzing your reactions to different situations that we tossed in your direction to build up a profile on you. Normally, you wouldn’t ever meet me, and you would most likely never know what I was doing. But we’ve had a bit of an emergency and Hanna needs to get in touch with you. So, she asked me to return your phone.”
“Does this mean I got the job?” Carl asked with a grin.
The man shrugged.
“I have no idea. I don’t make those decisions. I just analyze and report my findings in your portfolio. I let the higher ups decide what they want to do with that information.”
“Thanks,” Carl said. “I guess I’ll find out soon enough.”
The man smiled.
“Dude, you are so in love. It’s written all over you. Who’s the lucky woman?”
Carl grinned.
“That obvious. Huh? Just someone I met recently.”
“Okay, well, you have a great day. If you get hired, I suppose I’ll see you around. I’ll be doing your onboarding session and preliminary evaluations.”
“Great. I hope to see you again then,” Carl replied enthusiastically.
“Sure, my name is George, by the way,” the man said as he stuck out his hand.
Carl reached out and grabbed it firmly, pulling the man into a warm embrace.
“Wow, I didn’t see that coming in my analysis,” the man exclaimed with a chuckle. “Either you really are in love or you desperately need this job.”
“Probably a bit of both,” Carl admitted awkwardly.
He felt a bit miffed and embarrassed that the man had picked up that much about him in such a short time.
Carl really hoped that was all the man knew. That it wasn’t that obvious that he had fallen for Hanna. He really needed to get it together if he wanted this job. He had to step up his game. Otherwise, he would go back to working in another museum for a measly salary that was barely enough to pay his bills each month.
He loved the work itself and had been grateful for the experience it had provided him. Working as an assistant curator in the Greenvine Museum of Natural History had been interesting. He loved the expeditions and digs. Working with volunteers. Even holding office hours at the local university.
But Carl had outgrown that position and wanted something that paid much better. At first, he tried requesting a promotion, but he was told flat out that there was no chance for growth where he was unless he wanted to wait till the current curator retired or kicked the bucket.
He had spent a few months looking for a new job on the side without luck. Carl grew tired of the wait and put in his resignation. He made looking for a new position with a better salary his full-time job.
That had been three months ago. Carl had come close to getting something, but things had hadn’t panned out. They always paid him some dumb compliment right before letting him down and telling him that they had given the position to someone else.
Carl had been extremely frustrated and ready to throw in the towel when a headhunter had contacted him last week about this opening at Quest Technology Services. He hadn’t found the position very interesting at first, but for lack of other options, he had gone in for the interview just so no one could say that he hadn’t tried.
That was when he had first met Hanna. A brief chat over a cup of coffee before she explained to the group of potential candidates what she would expect of them if they were hired.
He had loved her passion and vision. Carl wanted to work with her and for her. He was sure he would be willing to do just about anything if she asked him personally. He was willing to apply himself diligently and do his best on the tests that the group was required to participate in.
But then when she told the group that the starting wage was a six-figure salary, he was sold. He didn’t care if he had to mop floors to get the job. Carl was determined to convince her that he was the right person for the job. He had slaved over every test and task.
In the end, it had all boiled down to himself and one other candidate. And it had been three days since he had last heard from anyone at the company. These had been the longest, most agonizing days of his life.
And now, Hanna was about to call him. In just a few moments, he would receive the call that had the potential to change his life.
Carl took a deep breath as he walked across the street towards a park in the middle of the city. He sat down on a bench and took several more deep breaths to calm his nerves. The last thing he wanted to do was sound anxious over the phone.
He didn’t have to wait long. The phone started to vibrate, and Carl let it ring a few times before answering it.
“Hello,” he said pleasantly.
“Hey, Carl. It’s Hanna. How are you doing?” she asked.
“Good. I’m doing really good. I have to admit that I’ve been a little anxious waiting for y’all to get back with me.”
“Oh, of course. I understand. That’s a perfectly reasonable way to feel when you’ve worked so hard to compete against so many other people for the same spot. You did really well and impressed us all. We loved your dedication and commitment to the entire process.”
Carl’s heart sank. There it was. The compliment. Right before they stuck the knife in and twisted it for the final kill. As if somehow paying him a compliment helped them feel better about letting him down. He held his breath and waited for her to continue on with rest of the details and ramble on with the blah blah blah.
“We wanted to make a decision sooner. I had scheduled a meeting with the board of directors the day before yesterday for us to go over your profiles and come to a consensus. But unfortunately, we had a huge issue come up that took all of our attention.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you got everything resolved okay,” he muttered despondently, not really meaning it.
He already knew what came next. A few more details about the decision process. Why the chose the person they did. The fact that he had only been discarded for the other person because of one tiny detail. And then the let down.
“So, we went over all the results from the tests and exercises that you finalists went through. It was really close. It was pretty much a tie between the two of you. But we had to make a choice, so in the end, it came down to one tiny thing that made all the difference.”
“And what was that?” he asked.
“Well, you know that we are expanding our network. And the next two countries that we’re targeting both speak Spanish. And since you don’t speak Spanish yet and Juan is fluent, we decided to go with him. But I want you to know that is the only reason we picked him over you. You were a really strong candidate with a lot of great experience under your belt.”
Carl tuned out immediately after that. He heard Hanna rambling on a bit more, but he didn’t listen to a thing she was saying. The sense of bitterness and disappointment was overwhelming. After three months of this frustration, he had had enough. It was more than he could take.
He had thrown himself into this opportunity for the past two weeks. Given it everything he had. Even if Hanna had asked for just a little bit more, he wouldn’t have been able to give it.
Suddenly, the phone went silent, and Carl realized that she had asked him a question and was waiting for an answer.
“I’m sorry, Hanna. I was in a park when you called and someone going by distracted me. I didn’t catch the last thing you said. Could you repeat that for me please.” he said as politely as he could.
All he really wanted to do though was scream and smash the phone into the sidewalk. Carl was ticked. Two weeks of his time that she had wasted. Two weeks that he could have been looking for something else. Two weeks of free work that he had done for her.
And now that nice fat salary that he had been dreaming of and counting on would go to someone else. He felt almost as much anger and hatred for her as almost as great as his love had been for her less than an hour ago.
No, not hatred. But just deep disappointment and regret at letting him get so emotionally involved in his head without any acknowledgment or reciprocation.
Not that it was her fault. He knew that it was completely on him. Carl had never let on how he felt, much less spoken to her about it because he didn’t want that to be something that could be used negatively against him.
So, he couldn’t blame her.
But he had been so sure that she was going to give him the job that he didn’t even consider it. Now, he wondered if it would have changed anything. If he had at least hinted that he cared for her or even given her some indication of how he felt, would that have tugged at her heartstrings? Possibly thrown things in his favor?
Carl wished so badly, that he could go back in time and change things just a little bit. At least try. A second chance. But now it was over.
He realized that she had repeated her question, but he still hadn’t caught it because he had been so deep in thought. So, he just said whatever came to mind.
“Okay, I understand your position, Hanna. I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to at least give it a shot. I wish you all the best and your company lots of success.”
Carl figured he was supposed to say something to the effect of congratulating the guy who took his spot as well, but he just wasn’t in the mood.
He was ready to hang up and started to press the button. But then he wondered why George had given him a company phone. What was he supposed to do with it now? Was it a reward for his participation in their training?
Carl looked around for the shrink but didn’t see him anywhere around. Then he remembered about the man telling him that they were still observing him.
Why would they be doing that if they had already made the decision about the other guy who got the spot? Was this still part of the test? Were they still analyzing him and adding his reaction to his portfolio?
A twinge of excitement hit him. Not too much. He was careful not to get his hopes up.
“Carl? Did you hear what I said?” Hanna asked again.
“I’m afraid not,” Carl replied. “I don’t think the connection is very good here. Why did you give me a company phone anyway, if I didn’t get the position?”
“Standard procedure, Carl. We just wanted to make sure we were talking to you on a line that was encrypted at both ends.”
“So, what do I do when it when we wrap up the call? Is George still around?”
“No, Carl. He’s already back at the office. I saw him walk through a minute ago. I guess you really didn’t hear what I was asking you.”
“Sorry, I guess not,” he retorted.
Carl wanted to give her a piece of his mind and tell Hanna that she had given him the hardest bit of news that he had received in his life. But he didn’t. Carl bit his tongue and kept his mouth shut after that.
“I asked you if we could go out for coffee later on this afternoon. I’d love to meet you outside a business setting. You know, employer vs. employee kind of setting. Just to talk about normal people stuff. To get to know you as a person. I have to admit that you really left an impression on me. And you’re kind of cute too. Know what I mean? I kind of got a vibe from you. I think we really clicked. Like we were synchronized. On the same wavelength. I felt like we really hit it off and I wanted to explore it a little. See if there’s something there.” Hanna said quietly, her voice lowering and getting quieter at the end as if she were unsure of herself.
Carl couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was she for real? Rage flooded through his body and his pressure rose to the point where his vision started to black out. He breathed deeply to control his fury.
“Are you there, Carl,” Hanna asked. “I, um, sorry if I read things wrong. Maybe I’m mistaken. If so, that’s okay. Or maybe I’m not mistaken, but you’re upset about us choosing Juan, that’s okay too. I understand. I wish I could have talked to you about this earlier, but I didn’t want to confuse the lines between a personal and professional relationship before we had come to a final decision.”
Hanna’s voice trailed off at the end. She waited for a few seconds to give him time to reply.
“Well, I’m going to be at that little coffee shop at the corner where you and the other candidates would go after the training sessions. I’ll be there from four to five p.m. I hope to see you there.”
Carl wanted to laugh into the phone. What was this woman thinking? That she could just go on like nothing had happened after all of this. He was absolutely furious.
“Well, Hanna, I do appreciate the offer,” he finally said when he got his emotions back under control. “But I’ve got to get back on the wagon here and find another job. I’ve stopped looking after the training sessions started at Quest. So, I need to find something a.s.a.p. Even if it’s just a temporary gig. Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but I’m gonna be really busy over the next few days. You know. I’m not in a very good place right now. I don’t think I would make for very good company. Perhaps when all of this is over, and I nail something down, then we can do the coffee thing. Okay.”
“Yeah. Sure, Carl. I understand perfectly. I appreciate your honesty. You’re probably right. Things might not have worked out any different anyway. I do this to myself. Set high expectations and then make a stupid mistake and shoot my own hopes down. I hope you aren’t angry about this. I apologize if I said or did anything that upset you or offended you. I just didn’t want to let the opportunity slip by without at least letting you know how I felt.”
Carl grinned to himself at the irony of the entire situation. Not less than ten minutes ago, he would have given anything to hear her say those words. He would have even given up that job position. He had even considered resigning if he thought he had a chance with her.
But now, that it had been snatched away from him, since she had snatched it away, and given it to someone else, everything had changed inside. His perspective of her had completely flipped a hundred and eighty degrees.
Even Carl was shocked at the complete change in his attitude. If someone had told him just twenty-four hours ago, he would have scoffed at the idea. Now, he had no idea what he was capable of doing even to himself if his thoughts, attitudes, and feelings could change so radically in a single moment.
“Thanks, Hanna. That was kind of you. I appreciate your courage and sticking your neck out on the line. I don’t think I would have had the courage to do something that bold.”
“Yeah, sure thing. Don’t mention it. I don’t think it was that bold of a thing to do. I did it mostly for myself. I try to follow my heart which means I can be pretty impetuous at times. But it also tends to get me into trouble.”
“Sure. I hear you. Well, I’m gonna run. I gotta meet up with my brother-in-law. He’s kind of a douchebag, but he’s family you know. So, gotta keep the peace.” he tried to say jokingly to lighten the mood.
“Okay. I’ll let you go then Carl. You take care now. Okay. Give me a call in the next week or so, if you change your mind or find some time to have that coffee.”
“Sure, Hanna. Bye-bye.” he said.
He waited for her to hang up. Carl had always had the impression that it was rude to hang up on someone who had called him. There was a long pause as if Hanna was waiting to hear if he would say something else.
But he held firm. He so wanted to let go of the anger and rage and bitterness. Tell her the truth. Confess that he had been madly and deeply in love with her the entire time. Tell her to wait and give him a few days for his wounded pride to heal.
Carl admitted that it was mostly just his pride that had been hurt. The fact that they had chosen Juan over him. But he didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to tell her how he felt. He liked to nurse his grudges. He didn’t even know why. It was just an old habit of his.
Sit around and brood over the his broken ego and wallow in his own misery. Steep himself in negative thoughts for a week, until he was forced to do something about it. Only now, he didn’t have any time left. His bills were piling up. If he didn’t start making money soon, he was going to be in a real pickle. He was already feeling the effects of his three month cash crunch.
He had complained about his salary before while working at the museum. But at least he had enough to pay his bills and enjoy life. Recently, he didn’t do anything but look for jobs or sit at home. He didn’t go out anywhere with his friends anymore because he didn’t have the money.
But at least he could go work with his brother-in-law. It wasn’t anything fancy. It was just a mowing job in his brother-in-law’s landscaping business. He had offered Carl a bit over the average wage he paid his regular employees just a few weeks back.
Carl had turned him down because he wanted to be free to focus on finding his dream job full-time. But after all this time and no luck yet, Carl knew he should take it. Beggars can’t be choosy, he mumbled to himself.
He stood up and stretched. No time to be lazy. He’d call Carl and start first thing in the morning. He continued walking down the street in the same direction had been headed earlier.
Carl didn’t walk fast. Nor did he walk slow. He still had no specific destination in mind. Nowhere definite to go. Just meandering along. Out and about for an afternoon stroll.
It hadn’t been a good day. He wasn’t happy. Not happy at all. Carl was alone. He had just lost his dream job. Good pay. Great people. Energetic vibe. Intense learning experience. That he could have had, but he didn’t. And to top it all off, he wasn’t going to get to see Hanna any more.
But none of that mattered. He would get a job. Work his tail off. Make some money. Go back to school. Improve his resume. Then he would come back and get an even better job. Rub it all in their face. And if they offered him another, he would turn it down point blank.
Or better yet, he would start one of those business ideas that he had. Maybe they would come begging him for a job in a few years when the market changed. He smiled to himself and hummed a little tune as he walked down the sidewalk. Amongst the hustle and bustle of those who had places to go, things to do, and people to see.
Carl looked around wondering if that old shrink was watching him. Still taking notes. Filling out his portfolio. Analyzing his profile. Feeding them back to some nameless corporation.
He knew he would get his shot. It hadn’t been this time. The experience had been disappointing, but he was still alive. He was on his feet. And he would make a comeback when the time was right.
Carl put his cell phone to his ear.
“Hey, Dora! Is your husband there?”
“Well, listen, when he gets back in tonight, could you let him know that I’d be happy to come work with him tomorrow if he still needs a hand.”
“No, the opportunity didn’t pan out.”
“Yeah. Me too. I’m still pretty bummed out about it. But that’s life. Right?”
“Yep. I’m sure it will. Another opportunity will come around and my number will pop up.”
When Igor is invited to his archrival’s party, he knows something is up, but he wants to keep the peace. However, everything goes south when his enemy is killed. And of course, Igor takes the blame.
Now, he has to prove his innocence and stay alive, while protecting those who want to blame him for the crime they think he committed.
Can Igor stay alive long enough to figure out what’s really going on and put a stop to it before it’s too late?
An action-packed thriller you can read in a single sitting with only 12,000 explosive words to solve the crime in 4 short chapters.
Igor stepped into the room and paused for a moment. He ran his hand down his long, blond beard as he waited patiently for Mr. Romanov to finish a phone call.
The old man spoke quietly, and Igor stayed by the door to give him space for privacy. Waiting for the white-haired, old Russian to acknowledge him.
Igor glanced to the sides to observe the large, bulky security guards standing on either side of the door. He recognized Max Isaev to his left. They had met once before back in the motherland. Igor knew that Max was Mr. Romanov’s right-hand man and headed up his support group.
Max cut a striking figure in his perfectly tailored suit. There was a strange aura about him. However, he would have been quite handsome if his large, bulbous nose didn’t look like it had been broken in 20 different fights.
He didn’t recognize the smaller guard to the right but knew his name was Vladimir Lagunov. Most likely because he handled and headed up Mr. Romanov’s spy group. And Igor had heard through the grapevine that in spite of his smaller frame, he was just as deadly if not more so than Max.
The thing that stood out about Vladimir were his shoes because while everyone else wore shiny, black dress shoes, the fearless bodyguard wore gaudy Gucci shoes that sported large, bright double Gs on each side.
Igor knew the ruthless, old man had made a lot of enemies over the years, but still, two guards seemed a bit of an overkill here in this small, dark room. Something must be up.
He tried to catch their eye and give them a friendly smile to put them at ease, but neither of the burly men acknowledged him or even looked directly at him. He knew that he had their full attention though. Making any sudden, rash moves would prove instantly fatal.
Mr. Romanov finally put down the phone and turned in his chair before standing up stiffly. Igor took a few steps forward and reached out a hand to help him. The old man smiled when he saw Igor and brushed his hand away.
“I’m a bit older than when you last saw me Igor, but not that old yet. I’m just a little sore from working out in the gym today.”
Igor smiled in relief at Mr. Romonov’s wry sense of humor. They hadn’t parted on the best of terms twenty years earlier, and he hadn’t been sure how the old man would greet him.
“It’s good to see you, sir,” he said with a stiff bow as he stuck out his hand to greet the old man.
Mr. Romanov had taken a step forward simultaneously and reached out to hug him. There was an awkward pause as Igor switched from trying to take the old man’s hand to embrace him.
“Come, let us walk. I called you here to talk about something important, but my phone call took longer than I anticipated. Our party is about to start. I must be there to greet my guests.”
Igor turned on his heel and stepped to the side to fall in beside the elderly man who asked how his family was doing and how Igor had fared on his trip as they walked down the long, wood-paneled hall.
They paused before a door, and Mr. Romanov waved the guards on down the hall.
“Listen, Igor. I imagine you are wondering why I asked to talk with you in spite of our past differences. But I want you to know that I hold no grudges for what you did or why. I know you believed you were doing the right thing.”
Igor raised his eyebrows slightly at the old man’s phrasing. He had never known Mr. Romanov to let go of old grudge when he had an ax to grind with someone.
“You are an honorable man, which is why I have requested you to be here now. I need your help with an urgent matter. Please meet me back here at 9:30 p.m. I don’t plan to stay long at the party. Just long enough to greet and mingle with the guests. Then I shall return to attend to these matters. And I should like your help.”
Igor furrowed his eyebrows for a brief moment. This was completely unexpected. He thought he had been invited simply as a formality. He hadn’t even seriously considered coming. Igor’s father had encouraged him to come though to represent the Koslov family.
The second thing that threw Igor off was the fact that the old man referred to him as honorable. He had been anything but when he was younger. Igor knew that he had often acted rashly and impetuously.
Mr. Romonov’s strange request held an ominous tone to it. And he had the most serious look on his face. Igor seemed to read a hint of fear in his eyes. He had no interest in working for the old man again. However, it was best not to turn down the old man without at least hearing him out.
Igor bowed his head in acknowledgment.
“It is your birthday, sir. I will be here as you have asked.”
The old man smiled and reached out to shake Igor’s hand firmly, just as the door opened. It seemed like the old man wanted to say more, but Mr. Romanov’s demeanor changed when he saw who was standing there.
A gorgeous woman in a stunning yellow gown graced the entrance to the room. Igor couldn’t tear his eyes away from her even though he heard Mr. Romanov speaking to him.
“Igor, you remember my daughter, Alexandra? Alexandra, you remember Igor, of course?”
Igor’s breath seemed to catch in his throat, and he couldn’t bring himself to speak for fear of his voice cracking or saying something foolish. He just smiled and nodded as demurely as possible.
“Of course I remember all of your Shestyorka and Bratok wannabe minions,” the woman spat angrily as she scowled at Igor. “Come, Papa. I’ve been waiting for you. You are late to greet your guests.”
Igor’s mind raced. Alexandra had been only a young teenage girl when he quit working for Mr. Romonov. Igor had made a clean break from his past with the old man by requesting to stay in the army after his conscription was up to avoid going back to the Russian mob.
Old man Romanov had been furious when he found out that Igor wouldn’t be coming back into his services. But Igor had made a career for himself in the army until the Romanov’s had fled to America to avoid the gang wars and bloodbath that had ensued over the years.
Igor wondered what the old Romanov would require of him now. He didn’t want any part of it. But it was too late to back out. He was here and would have to wait to see how this played out.
“Yes, I know. I was on the phone with Andrey to finalize the details on our latest venture. Please, show Igor to the main hall and begin greeting our guests for me. I will change quickly and be right there.”
Alexandra’s eyes blazed furiously for a moment as she glanced at Igor, but cooled when she looked back at her father.
“Yes, sir. I will do as you have asked for the sake of our guests but don’t delay. It would not be appropriate,” she said still glowering at Igor.
“That’s my girl,” Mr. Romanov said as he patted her arm and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I won’t be more than five minutes.”
“Come, Mr. Kozlov,” she said as she swept briskly down the hall.
Igor glanced at the old man with a nod and turned to follow her. He had to trot to catch up to her as she was already halfway down the corridor. He tried to think of something intelligent to say, but just as he started to open his mouth, she held up her hand to stop him.
“Please, don’t attempt to flatter me or humor me. I remember very well who you are and what you used to do for my father. Nothing you can do will impress me or put you in a good light. I despise you and everything you stand for in my father’s organization.”
“Even though you benefit from it, and even though I tried to stay away from it,” he said with a wry smile that he knew would irritate her and get under her skin.
“You came back, didn’t you?” she spat back. “Only the grave will cure the hunchback, or as they say here in America, ‘A leopard can’t change its spots.”
“I came only because my father asked me to represent our family, and of course to see you,” he said, trying to make light of the situation.
He could see her attempting to keep a straight face and feign her indigence as they walked down the stairs into the hall.
“Well, you have honored your father’s request and seen me. Now you may go home.”
She swirled off to greet the first group of people gathered nearby and play the perfect hostess.
Igor mosied on over to the bar and ordered a cocktail from the girl making drinks. He glanced at his watch. 8:05 p.m. and the place was already jam-packed with Mr. Romanov’s friends and acquaintances.
The bartender slid a glass in his direction. Igor took it automatically and mumbled his thanks while watching Alexandra across the room. She had stopped near a group of men. One of them had put his arm around her, and she was smiling.
He felt a twinge of jealousy. Igor hadn’t given her much thought over the years. But Alexandra had grown up into a beautiful woman. It almost made him wish that he hadn’t joined the army and had stayed close to home. Not that he would have stood much of a chance by the way she seemed to despise her father’s henchmen.
Igor meandered around the room in the opposite direction in the attempt to meet up with her in the middle while not making it so obvious what he was trying to do.
He paused to greet and chat with a couple of people who seemed open to a conversation. But he kept watching Alexandra the entire time, hoping to catch her eye or get her attention.
She had moved on to another group nearby. Igor made his way past her as if heading somewhere else and acted like had just happened to see her standing there. Alexandra greeted him coldly but was still polite enough to introduce him to the rest of the group.
Alexandra told them that he had been one of her father’s minions back in the motherland. He got mixed reactions over that. Some seemed to be impressed while others frowned at him.
“But he is a rebellious rebel,” Alexandra quipped after a few moments of awkward silence. “He ran away while he could before we came to America.”
The mood in the group shifted immediately. Those who had seemed to respect him only a moment ago, now frowned. While the others who had looked down on him now seemed impressed.
“The end doesn’t always justify the means, does it, Igor?” someone named Denis with ruffled dark hair quipped stiffly as if trying to smooth things over. “I always admire a man who does his own thinking and isn’t afraid to stand up for what he believes.”
Igor smiled grimly and nodded politely while trying to mumble something appropriate.
“My dream was always to move to America and become a policeman. I wanted to be a good guy and save people.”
That didn’t seem to help matters any. It just seemed to make everyone all the more tense. Igor wanted to kick himself. That probably was a dumb thing to say in this kind of setting where most of them didn’t care much for Americans, much less those who upheld the law against their mafia relatives.
“It’s because those donuts in the American movies always looked so delicious,” Igor said with a chuckle as it were the punchline to a bad joke.
Better to be frowned on for telling dumb jokes than to get popped off by someone who thought he might turn on them. He glanced at Alexandra, who seemed to be beaming at his awkwardness.
“Is your father okay?” he asked, pointing to his watch. “It’s been 20 minutes already.”
She smiled and waved him off as she turned to another group.
“He’s fine. Just a little slower than usual these days.”
Igor nodded at her as she left. Then he nodded politely to the rest of the group while pointing to his half-empty cocktail glass as if indicating he was going to get a refill.
He dropped off the glass before heading back up the stairs the way he had come with Alexandra. Hopefully, the old man would tell him what he needed right away, and then he could catch the next flight home.
When he got to the top of the stairs and turned the corner down the hall, there was no sign of Max or Vladimir. Igor knocked on Mr. Romanov’s door. He wondered if the men were inside, but there was no answer.
Igor tried the handle, and the door eased open quietly. He jumped to the side in case the trigger-happy bodyguards took a potshot at him for coming in unannounced.
“It’s just me. Igor,” he stated clearly. “Is everything ok in there?”
There was no answer, so he pushed the door open the rest of the way before stepping inside.
“Mr. Romanov!” he called out and took a few more steps into the bedroom.
The room was empty. He knew it wouldn’t look good if someone came in and caught him there, so he turned to leave. But as he walked past the bathroom door, he heard the sound of running water.
He knocked on the door and waited for a second before pushing it open. There was a dark figure standing over the tub who spun around to face him.
“Whoops! I apologize, sir.” Igor started to say until he realized that it wasn’t Mr. Romanov that was looking at him, but someone with a mask on.
The old man was submerged in the bathtub with the masked figure keeping his head under the water. The tub faucet was running, and water was overflowing onto the floor.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Igor shouted.
The masked figure continued pushing Mr. Romanov’s head under the water. Igor rushed forward to save Mr. Romanov, but he slipped and skidded on the slippery wet floor.
He managed to get his hands on the masked figure and push him away from the tub with his left hand. He swung a right jab at the mask and managed to connect. But he was too off-balance for it to be very effective.
The masked man was slim and wiry. A slippery little dude that managed to wiggle out of his hold. He bent down and rammed into Igor with his shoulder as he ran on by. Igor turned to follow, but he slipped again, and this time wasn’t able to keep himself upright.
Igor felt his feet slide out from under him and his head came down hard on the cold, wet linoleum flooring.
When Igor came to, the water was still running in the bathtub. He sat up gingerly and placed his hand to his head. Suddenly, he remembered that Mr. Romanov was still in the tub.
He scooted over to the side of the tub and shut off the faucet with his left hand as he pulled Mr. Romanov’s head out from under the water with the other. Then he hit the lever to open the drain and let the water out.
Igor stood up carefully, still holding the old man’s head out of the water. He pulled Mr. Romanov to the edge of the tub and slid his body down onto the floor.
The old man’s face was blue, and he wasn’t breathing. Igor checked for a pulse but didn’t feel anything. He placed his hands over the man’s chest and pressed down several times to pump the water out of his lungs.
The liquid streamed out of his mouth and nostrils each time Igor pressed down. After clearing out the majority of the water in his lungs, Igor tried breathing air into his body. But his attempts to reanimate old Mr. Romanov were futile.
He had seen it in American movies, but he couldn’t remember what to dial. Not that his cell phone was even working here. Igor hadn’t had coverage since arriving and hadn’t yet had time to buy a chip that worked.
Suddenly, Igor realized how it would look if someone came in and saw him standing over Mr. Romanov’s dead body. There was no way he could cover this up to make himself look innocent.
Igor’s fingerprints were everywhere. His blood was even on the floor where he had bashed his head. Igor tried to think of what to do. He realized that he was panicking. That wouldn’t do him any good. He took a moment to focus on his breathing. To take several long deep breaths.
He stood to his feet. Trembling as the shock began to wear off. It took him a few seconds to compose himself.
“Where were Max and Vladimir anyway?” Igor thought as he raced down the hall. “They should have been here protecting the old man. Had they betrayed him? Or worse, had they been killed?”
When he reached the end of the hall, Igor turned the corner and burst through the doors at the top of the stairs.
“Help! Somebody call the ambulance!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
The sound of his voice didn’t carry very far in the din with so many people talking loudly to be heard over each other and the live music coming from the band.
Igor spotted Alexandra at the far end of the hall. He raced down the stairs in her direction. As he passed the first group of people, he shouted for them to call an ambulance.
They simply looked at him like he was out of his mind. He continued yelling the same thing to each group of people he passed. By the time he reached Alexandra, most of the crowd had quieted down although the band was still playing in the background.
By the time he reached her, Igor was panting and out of breath. Alexandra cringed and backed away when she saw him. He realized that he must look like a sordid mess from slipping in the puddle of water. But that couldn’t be helped now.
“What is it, Igor?” She asked coolly.
“Your Father. Call the ambulance.” Igor managed to pant breathlessly.
“What about him?” Alexandra asked as if she didn’t understand what he was trying to say.
Igor didn’t want to tell her that her father was dead yet. He tried to think of an easy way to break the news. To prepare her for it. Soften the blow. But nothing came to mind. So, he continued to breathe deeply.
“I found him in the bathtub. Unconscious.”
“Well, where is Max?” she asked as if her father often passed out.
“I don’t know,” he panted. “There is no easy way to say this. But a man was holding his head under the water.”
The expression that flickered across her face was a mixture of emotions. Igor couldn’t quite read what all she was feeling. But she seemed to realize that Igor was serious.
“Call 911,” she shouted as she pushed her way through the group that had gathered around them.
Igor watched as she finally broke free from the crowd and gathered up her gown to race for the stairs. He followed along behind her a bit more slowly as his head was still throbbing from his fall.
A few people followed him, but most stayed behind to continue partying. Igor ordered them to stay outside the bedroom and direct the paramedics when they arrived.
Alexandra was on the floor beside her father when he entered the bathroom. He stood uncomfortably behind her and cleared his throat.
“Call off the ambulance. It’s too late,” she said. “He’s already dead.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Igor replied. “I tried my best to revive him. I performed CPR on him, but by time I pulled him out, he was already gone. I’m sorry.”
Alexandra stood up and turned to leave. She paused and waited for him to step away from the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I don’t want to destroy any more evidence. Clear everyone out of here until the police arrive.”
Her coldness took him back for an instant. It made sense that she would be accustomed to death and dying. But still, her own father was lying on the floor dead. Drowned to death in his own bathtub. Igor would have thought that she would be more emotional about it.
He wanted to hug her and try to comfort her. To tell her that it was okay to cry. Igor reached out a hand awkwardly toward her shoulder, but she pushed on past him through the door.
Alexandra took a few steps into the bedroom. Igor followed her quietly. Before they reached the door to the bedroom though, she stopped and turned back toward him.
“You are free to go home. I will break the news to the guests and send them home.”
“It’s best to wait for the police to arrive. The killer may still be around. Perhaps they can still catch him. And he may yet make an attempt on your life. You must be careful.”
Igor sensed a flicker of fear in her eyes. Just then, Max and Vladimir came racing into the room. Both glaring angrily at Igor. Vladimir stopped beside Alexandra and reached out to hug her.
Max raced on past them into the bathroom. Igor heard him moan when he reached the door and looked in on Mr. Romanov. He stormed back out and shoved his finger into Igor’s chest, demanding to know what had happened.
“He asked me to meet him here at 9:30 to resolve something. I came early because he hadn’t shown up at the party. The real question is, why weren’t you two doing your job?”
Max growled and glowered. He glanced over at Vladimir.
“Vladimir told me there was a ruckus going on out front and sent me to check it out.”
Vladimir shook his head vehemently and denied it.
“I never said that. I heard Mr. Romanov’s voice on the com asking me to get his briefcase out of his car. But when I got there, it wouldn’t open. I thought you were still here watching over him.”
Both of them continued to glower at Igor as if they suspected that he had set them up. Before they could say anything, though, two police officers entered the room, and the paramedics followed close behind.
Everything was a blur after that in Igor’s mind. He watched the cops closely because he felt like he was in a real American movie as they questioned everyone, including him. He told them what he could about the person he had seen standing over Mr. Romanov.
After the crime scene had been secured and protected from the gawking party guests, more police officers and detectives arrived to initiate the preliminary survey and evaluate the physical evidence.
They tried to remove him along with Alexandra and the others after questioning him. But he flashed his Russian Military Police badge and refused to budge. They didn’t seem to be happy about him being there, but he refused to leave. He just smiled politely and rattled off random phrases in Russian.
Igor stayed most of the night. Watching from the sidelines. Observing the police as they evaluated the physical evidence and prepared a narrative for what had happened. He watched as they captured the scene photographically and then created the crime scene sketch.
Things seemed to be winding down by around 3:15 a.m. So, Igor stepped outside to get some fresh air. Everything was quiet, and the guests had all been allowed to go. Max was out front though. He scowled at Igor and came over immediately.
Igor answered his questions calmly. Max seemed extremely agitated when Igor described the masked man in the bathroom that had been holding Mr. Romanov under the water.
“The Rusalka!” Max swore under his breath and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He offered one to Igor who declined with a scoff. “A Slavic Mermaid?”
“Just a theory I have. Did you know the old man’s been having a lot of health issues lately? Passing out. Losing his mind at times.”
Igor shook his head, “No, I didn’t.”
“He’s been in out of the hospital almost every week. Anyway, he goes on these rants about the Rusalka. Claims that they’ve been trying to kill him.”
Igor shrugged. “So, someone knew about it and figured drowning him in a tub would be the way to get away with it.” Max scoffed, “Like the police would actually consider the Rusalka an actual suspect.”
“Wait, you’re not telling me that you actually believe the Rusalka exist, much less killed your boss,” Igor asked.
Max just shrugged and took another drag on his cigarette.
“How’s Alexandra holding up?” Igor finally asked when Max finished grilling him for the second time.
“As well as can be expected under the circumstances. Last I saw she was in the kitchen drinking coffee with vodka and calling relatives to break the news.”
Igor turned to leave. Max reached out a hand to stop him.
“Watch out for Vladimir. He has never lost a client on his watch, and he seems to suspect it was you. If he truly believes it, he will stop at nothing to avenge the old man’s death and his own honor.”
Igor frowned. “He’s more of a suspect than I am. He is the one who left Mr. Romanov unattended.”
Max shrugged again. “Just a friendly word of caution to make sure you convince us of your innocence as soon as possible.”
The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Igor trying to read Max’s expression in the shadowy glow of the cigarette outlining the burly man’s crooked nose.
A chill ran down Igor’s spine at the threatening words.
“I’m going to check on Alexandra,” Igor stated firmly, refusing to let the burly bodyguard intimidate him.
Igor could feel Max’s eyes boring into him as he entered the house. He walked back to the kitchen and waved to Alexandra. She seemed bleary-eyed but coherent.
He walked over and stood silently before her. Unsure of what to say. “How are you doing?” seemed to be the rhetorical question of choice, but at the same time seemed inappropriate.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get there earlier. In time,” he muttered.
Alexandra waved her hand in front of her face as if to brush off his guilt and motioned for him to sit down.
“He’s been going on about someone trying to kill him, but we all thought he was going crazy. It’s not your fault. We should have been more careful.”
Igor didn’t say anything. He just nodded and watched her eyes and the expressions on her face. She still seemed so cold about the whole thing.
Alexandra finally looked back up at him.
“Could you do me a favor, Igor? Help me get to the bottom of this. Figure out who did it and why.”
He frowned briefly before he realized what he was doing and could recover. That was the last thing he expected to hear coming out of her mouth.
Igor had been the last person with her father, a stranger in the house, and the most likely suspect in her mind. Unless Alexandra was like her father and wanted tokeep her enemies close until she could assess their motives to deal with them appropriately.
“I don’t believe it was you, Igor,” Alexandra said as if reading his thoughts. “I don’t know who did this, but you are not on my list of suspects. You refused my offer to leave before the police got here. Actually, as crazy as it sounds, you’re the only person I feel I can trust. I know you and Father had your differences, but he always said you were an honorable man. And I’m willing to pay you whatever you ask. Money will not be an issue.”
That was a surprise to hear. He seemed to sense the first crack in her emotional armor. Igor reached out his hand and placed it on her arm.
“I will do my best to help you resolve this, Alexandra. But you do not need to pay me. Your father is an old friend of the family. And I know he did many favors for my father over the years.”
“I know you will. Your background and skills will be the key to resolving this matter. If you help me resolve his murder and bring the killer to justice, I will find a way to repay you even if you don’t accept money. Father has friends in high places who can help you obtain your immigration papers and friends in the police force who can help you get your dream job of eating donuts while walking a beat.”
Igor smiled wanly realizing that she really had been paying attention earlier when he spoke with Denis and the group. He stood up and excused himself to get some sleep.
He smiled giddily at the thought of actually coming to live in America as he walked to his bedroom. The faint light of dawn outlined his window enough that he didn’t bother to turn on the lights after stepping into his room.
But Igor’s happiness was short-lived because as soon as he stepped through the door, someone attacked him in the shadowy darkness.
The blow slammed Igor back up against the back of the door and knocked the breath out him. Whoever hit him was still hanging on to him. Pressing his body up against him to pin Igor’s arms while trying to get his hands up around Igor’s throat.
Igor struggled to get free as he wheezed to catch his breath. He managed to twist himself around enough to get one arm loose. Igor struggled to pull his assailant’s hands away from his neck.
Simultaneously, he braced himself against the wall with his legs to push the attacker away with his body. The man was strong and wiry, but still smaller than Igor. So, he was able to get enough leverage to push the man away from the wall and free his other arm.
The man pushed back, and Igor stopped resisting. Using the force of his attacker’s own strength to swing him back around against the wall. With both arms now free, Igor was able to jab him twice in the ribs.
It was hard to see where he hit the man in the dim light of the room, but he knew he connected well on the second blow based on the man’s grunt.
Igor wound up and twisted himself back for a right hook that he was sure to put his assailant down, but the man must have been able to see well in the dark or just had good reflexes because he twisted out of the way before Igor could hit him.
His fist bashed into the thin wooden door. He could feel it crack and splinter under the blow. Meantime, the man grabbed him around the waist again and pushed him back down the short hall between the wall and bathroom leading into the bedroom.
Igor tripped over something on the floor and lost his balance. He managed to twist in the direction he was falling in time to catch himself on the bed. He landed on the high soft mattress with his attacker furiously trying to pin him down.
His small size was no match for Igor though who managed to roll him off and jump back to his feet. The attacker tried to roll off to the other side, but not before Igor managed to nail him with a couple of more sharp jabs to his body. One seemed to land on a fleshy shoulder that didn’t do much damage, but the other connected with something bony that he knew had to have hurt his opponent. It hurt his knuckles as well, but Igor was satisfied with his blow.
Igor lunged around the bed toward the window and pulled back the thin curtains to let in more of the morning light. It didn’t improve the lighting much, but it was enough to see the switch.
He lunged toward it. It forced him to turn away from his enemy for a second. Igor felt the mattress moving as the shadowy figure jumped up onto the bed to reach him.
Igor managed to flip the light switch on, and light flooded the room as he turned to face his oncoming assailant once again.
But before he could twist back around, he felt a wicked blow across the back of his neck and Igor slumped to the floor at the foot of the bed as everything went dark once again.
Igor slowly came to on a hard surface. His head throbbed steadily, and for a few moments, he couldn’t remember what had happened or where he was. But then it all came back to him. Igor struggled to sit up, but the back of his head was still sore.
So, he laid back down and glanced around the dim room. Igor saw the faint outline of a bed off in the distance. Something seemed off, but he couldn’t quite place it as he tried to figure out what was wrong.
Then he realized that the lamp beside the bed was off. He had turned it on before getting knocked out. And the curtain was closed. Also, he was farther away from the bed than he last remembered. Igor was on the other side of the room as if he had been dragged away from it.
Igor heard someone moan on the other side of him. Igor jerked his head in that direction. There was a shadowy figure lying on the ground a little ways away from him just inside the bathroom door. Whoever it was moaned and half-whimpered as he rolled over and tried to push himself up.
Suddenly, a dark spot on the floor between them caught Igor’s eye. It looked like a weapon of some sort. He couldn’t tell what make or model, but as he squinted and moved closer, Igor realized that it was definitely a handgun.
The other man seemed to notice it about the same time. They both froze for half a second in the dark gloom. Igor couldn’t tell who it was because his features were hidden in the shadows. But the whites of his eyes seemed to recognize Igor as they squinted into an angry scowl.
They both lunged for the handgun at the same time. The other man was a bit closer and had taken advantage of Igor’s hesitation to get a head start. But he miscalculated his push-off and slammed his shoulder into the door before scrambling out around it.
It was long enough of a delay for Igor to wrap his hands around the gun and point it at the man’s face in front of him. The man growled furiously but was smart enough not to continue moving toward him. He lowered his head and pushed his face into the floor.
“Stand up slowly and flip on the light,” Igor ordered as he backed up to put some distance between them.
The man did as Igor ordered and when he turned around, Igor realized who it was. Vladimir.
“I didn’t kill Mr. Romanov,” Igor said. “Why are you trying to kill me?”
Vladimir squinted his eyes at Igor and shook his head.
“I’m not trying to kill you. You came to my room and attacked me. And now you are pointing a gun at me. How can you say something like that?”
“This is your room? I was told that this was my room earlier.”
Igor continued pointing the gun in Vladimir’s face but turned slightly to glance around the room a few times. His eyes flitting back and forth between the setting behind him and the man in front of him. It was different. This wasn’t the same room where he had been attacked, the door to the bathroom was in a different location than the one he had walked into earlier.
“Why am I here? Why did you bring me here?” Igor demanded to know.
“You’re crazier than I thought! You came in here and attacked me.” Vladimir growled.
“No, I walked into my room, and I was attacked. I pulled the curtain partially off the rod before getting knocked out. Someone must have brought me here. If we go to my room, you’ll see where the curtain is torn. And there is a dent in the door where I tried to punch the person who attacked me. There is no dent here in this door. Someone brought me here. If it wasn’t you then who?”
Igor knew that he had to convince his nemesis of his innocence quickly before he had a chance to hurt him. He didn’t want to have to harm Vladimir if he wasn’t guilty of anything. Igor knew that he was in enough trouble as it was without making another enemy.
“Why am I in your room?” Igor demanded. “Where is the room I was staying in?”
“Across the hall and two doors down. I don’t know how I got into the bathroom. After the police left, Max and I walked around looking for clues to what happened. Then I came to lay down. That’s the last thing I remember before waking up here with you in my room.”
Igor pointed toward the door with the gun, indicating for Vladimir to go out into the hall. He glared at Vladimir for a few seconds as if analyzing the situation before complying.
Vladimir went across the hall and opened another door. Then slipped inside. Igor paused and pushed the door back open slowly so he could see where Vladimir was standing before entering. The lamp was still on, and the curtain torn partway off the rod as Igor had said. Vladimir continued to glare at him as if waiting for an explanation.
Igor flipped on the switch to the overhead light and closed the door behind him. He continued pointing the gun at Vladimir but nodded at the back of the door where his fist had bashed a large dent and splintered part of the wood.
“I think that whoever killed Mr. Romanov was trying to pit us against one another. They left the gun close to you and placed me in the room to look like I had attacked you.” Igor stated.
“You are fortunate that I didn’t get the gun before you. I would have killed you without hesitation.” Igor replied.
“So, I can give you your gun back now?” Igor asked questioningly. “You believe I’m innocent?”
Vladimir shrugged. “Maybe. I’m still not totally convinced that you aren’t involved. Maybe you set this up to fake your innocence and throw me off your trail. Or maybe your accomplice set you up.”
“Are there security cameras we can use to see what happened?” Igor asked.
Vladimir nodded and pointed back in the direction they had come from. Igor motioned to the door with his head and kept the gun pointed at the other man. They walked in silence down the hall.
When they arrived at the security room, it didn’t take long for Vladimir to let out a sigh of frustration. He didn’t need to say anything though.
Igor could see for himself that the feed had been cut off just before he arrived at his room. There was no way for them to know what had happened after he had been knocked out.
“Can you see where Max and Alexandra are now?”
Vladimir poked around on the security system. Max was out front where Igor had last seen him. The burly guard was leaning up against a pillar of the house still smoking away.
Then a pajama-clad Vladimir zoomed in on the guard out back behind the house. He started systematically checking camera feeds and making a list of numbers and names.
“Alexandra was in the kitchen when I went to my room. Can you rewind and see where she went to?” Igor asked, feeling nervous. He had a bad feeling about this.
Vladimir glanced at him and switched to the cameras in the kitchen. Alexandra wasn’t there any longer. Another woman behind a table seemed to be making preparations for breakfast.
“Can’t you rewind the camera there and see where she went or what direction she left in?” Igor asked.
Vladimir shook his head. “The whole system on that side of the house went offline. None of the cameras recorded anything for 15 minutes. Then they mysteriously came back on.”
“Can these feeds be controlled remotely, or would someone have had to have been here in the room to access the system?”
“The system is online, so it’s possible that someone hacked it and took over the controls from somewhere else. But why would they have done that right before you were attacked?”
“I don’t think this is about us,” Igor muttered. “I think that whoever killed Mr. Romanov came after Alexandra next. They just put us against each other as a distraction.”
Vladimir scowled at him and noticed that Igor was no longer pointing the gun in his direction.
“I don’t like that theory one bit. Not Alexandra,” he said as he jumped up and raced for the door.
Igor followed close behind as Vladimir ran for the kitchen. The poor woman almost jumped out of her skin when they burst through the door behind her, and breathlessly demanded to know if she had seen Alexandra.
She was a small woman who didn’t seem to speak much English or Russian because she couldn’t understand what they were asking her.
Her nametag said that her name was Bian. She jabbered away in a foreign language that Igor couldn’t place. He could tell it wasn’t Chinese even though she was definitely Asian.
Someone else came in from the other room where they must have heard the ruckus. This person understood what they were saying, but claimed she hadn’t seen Alexandra since she had arrived. They asked Hoa to translate for Bian, who understood the other woman perfectly and replied immediately.
“She say Ms. Alexandra leave kitchen with man. Go out back.”
“What did he look like?” Igor and Vladimir demanded simultaneously.
They both waited impatiently for Hoa to translate for the first woman. Bian seemed confused as she tried to recall what he looked like. She jabbered on incessantly.
“Bian no get good look at man’s face. He funny.” “He was about this tall?” Igor asked as he raised his hand a little below his neck.
Hoa translated, and Bian nodded vigorously.
“His face looked white like he had a mask on?” Igor asked another question.
Bian smiled vigorously again as Hoa translated his question.
“Where does the back door lead to?” Igor demanded, asking both Hoa and Vladimir.
He didn’t bother waiting for an answer. He turned and raced out of the kitchen toward several doorways. Igor paused at each to open them and look inside. All but one were open. Igor smashed it open with the foot of his boot, but it was empty.
There was a door that led outside, but he also saw stairs leading back up to the second floor. Igor hesitated for half a second, trying to decide which way to go. He realized that if they had gone outside though, they would probably have gotten into a car and been long gone.
His only hope was that they were still in the large house somewhere while the short man with the white mask was still looking for something. Igor turned and raced up the stairs.
When he reached the top, Igor worked his way down the hall. Opening each door to see if anyone was inside. Most were empty. One room did have someone sleeping in one of the beds. Igor didn’t know who the woman was, but she didn’t look like Alexandra or the man they were searching for.
As he came out of the room, he realized that he had come back around in the direction of Mr. Romanov’s office where Igor had first met up with him the night before. The door was ajar, so Igor headed straight for it.
Vladimir had just come up the stairs and asked, “What are you doing? We were up here, and there is no one here. We need to cover the grounds outside. I’ve already contacted Max.”
Igor ignored him and pushed the door open slowly with his left foot while pointing the gun out in front of him. He didn’t see anyone in the room and slowly eased his way inside with Vladimir still complaining behind him.
He almost gave up in exasperation at Vladimir’s whining and pestering, but Igor gave a quick glance around the corner of the room and saw dark figures huddled up against the bookshelves.
Igor swung around and pointed the gun into the dark corner as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. He looked for the light switch, but it was on the other side of the room.
Vladimir had frozen behind him and couldn’t see what Igor saw. So, he motioned with his eyes to for Vladimir to flip the switch.
“What is it? I don’t read minds,” Vladimir growled.
“Turn on the light,” Igor hissed, still pointing the gun in the direction.
Vladimir took a step toward the door and turned on the lights. Igor could see Alexandra being held around the neck by a man who was smaller than her. The same white-masked face he had seen earlier in the bathrooms.
“Let her go,” Igor demanded.
“Put your gun down, or I will kill the woman,” the man hissed from behind her.
“He doesn’t have a gun,” Alexandra shouted.
“But I do have a knife, and I will cut her!” the man retorted. “Put the gun down unless you don’t care if she gets hurt.
“Shoot him in the forehead,” Vladimir shouted at Igor. “If you can’t do it, throw me the gun and I will.”
Igor was shocked and glanced at Vladimir. He wondered if the man was trying to send him a coded message or something. But before he could react, Vladimir leaped over in Igor’s direction and grabbed at the gun screaming.
“Kill him! Kill him!” Vladimir screamed over and over.
Igor was shocked at Vladimir’s strange behavior but didn’t let go of the weapon. He wrestled to keep his hold on the gun. Vladimir swept his feet out from under him and fell on top of him as Igor dropped to the floor.
They struggled for a few seconds, but Vladimir’s move had caught Igor off guard. Vladimir managed to twist the gun out of Igor’s hand and jumped back onto his feet. In the meantime, the small man had let go of Alexandra and taken advantage of their fight over the gun to race out of the room.
Vladimir raced out after him. Igor heard several shots fired. He struggled to get back on his feet, still wheezing from Vladimir’s elbow to his gut.
“You okay?” he asked Alexandra who was pulling herself from the floor against the desk on the other side of the room
She nodded, and he stepped forward to reach out a hand to help her up.
“Thank you,” she said with a shaky voice.
“What did he want?” Igor asked.
She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. “He was going on about some paperwork that my father was going to sign on a business deal. He wanted them and said he was going to kill me too if I didn’t turn them over. He didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t know anything about them.”
“Did you recognize him or know who he might be?”
She shook her head and sat back down on one of the seats. Igor didn’t want to leave her there, but he wanted to go after Vladimir. Alexandra sensed the hesitation in his eyes.
“It’s okay. Go on. I’ll be fine now that he’s gone.”
He nodded and turned to leave.
“Igor,” she said, and he turned back around. “Thank you for saving me. I really do believe he would have killed me after getting what he wanted.”
The tall, blond man nodded in her direction and stepped out into the hall. Vladimir and the masked man were long gone. The woman he had seen lying in bed had woken up. She was peeking out the door to her room.
“What’s going on out there?” she demanded to know.
“It’s okay. You can come out. The man who killed Mr. Romanov was trying to steal something from Alexandra.” Igor replied and pointed to the office door.
She stepped out into the hallway, wrapped in her bedsheets. “Is Alex okay?” she asked.
He nodded and stepped aside as the woman went inside. Igor still didn’t like leaving Alexandra behind, but he felt better now that someone else was with her. He glanced back inside, and she seemed to be okay. Igor nodded at her once again and then went to look for Vladimir.
Igor took off running down the hall after Vladimir and their mystery man. He wanted to stay and ask Alexandra more questions about the man to find out what she knew. But right now, Vladimir would need his help to catch this suspect. And actually, Igor was more interested in keeping Vladimir from killing the man until they could question him to find out why he had murdered Mr. Romanov in the first place.
Igor burst out onto the top of the stairs and paused to look around. He listened for any noise that would let him know if they had run down the stairs or continued running down the hall in the other direction.
He didn’t hesitate long and flew down the stairs. He ran headlong for the front door and burst outside through the foyer. Max turned and looked at him lazily.
“You seen Vladimir? He’s supposed to take the next shift.”
Igor shook his head as he tried to catch his breath. “He’s chasing Mr. Romanov’s killer who was trying to get Alexandra. Vladimir chased him down the hall.”
Max looked at Igor strangely as if he didn’t believe a word he was saying. Just then they heard two shots fire out.
Max started and shot Igor a strange look. “That came from outback!”
Then he burst through the doors and took off running through the house with Igor close on his heels. When they came through the back doors though, there was nothing to see.
A guard was walking past the cars on the far end of the lot. Max waved him over and asked him if he had seen anyone. The guard admitted he had heard the noise but hadn’t seen anyone out that way.
Max headed around the house in one direction and sent the guard to circle the house in the other. He ordered Igor to cut back through the house in case they were still inside.
Igor barged back into the house, going from room to room. He cleared out the bottom floor and headed back up the stairs. He found Vladimir in the second room.
The man was doubled over on the floor. He had taken two bullets in his left side. He tried to sit up, but Igor held his shoulders firmly down.
“Don’t move. I’ll get help.” Igor said.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Go get that murderer and finish him.” Vladimir groaned as he laid back down.
Igor called 911 on Vladimir’s phone and asked for an ambulance. He looked out through the window and saw Max below. He opened the window and let him know what was going on.
“Don’t you have a way to communicate with Max and the guards?” Igor asked when he turned back around.
Vladimir nodded, “Yes, but I took it off when I went to sleep. And then I woke up in the bathroom and never put it back on.”
Max came through the door and knelt down beside Vladimir.
“How’s it look, old friend?” Vladimir asked.
Max shrugged. “I’ve seen you survive worse.”
They both chuckled, but Igor could see the fear in Max’s eyes. It didn’t last long though and was soon replaced with fury.
“Rusalka?” he asked. “Anyone we know?”
Vladimir shrugged. “I never got a good look at his face. I came around the corner too fast. He surprised me. But the same description as Igor gave. Pale face. Short. No one I recognized.”
Max nodded and growled, “I’m going to continue looking around. You stay here with Vlad until the ambulance arrives.”
Igor nodded. Then Max was gone, jabbering orders over the com to the other guard as he headed out the door.
Igor asked if there was anything he could get Vladimir. Water or a pillow. The man shook his head slightly and grunted at the pain. Igor sat back down on the bed.
Something caught his eye through the window. A crouched figure walking carefully across the roof. Igor sucked in his breath and pointed it out to Vladimir who was unable to see from his position o the floor.
“Tell Max. Have them shoot him down.” Vladimir hissed furiously.
Igor looked out the window, but neither Max nor the guard was to be seen. He looked back at Vladimir and shook his head.
“Want me to go call them?” he asked.
Vladimir shook his head and handed the gun to Igor. “There is no time. He will get away. Most likely, he is waiting for a chopper. Go back down to the end of the hall. There’s a ladder out on the balcony that leads up to the top of the roof.”
Igor raced out the door and down the hall. The door leading out onto the balcony was already open. The beginning of the ladder was above his head, so he looked around for a chair or something to stand on.
The balcony was empty, but Igor was able to stand on the railing and stretch over far enough to hoist himself up onto to the ladder. He scrambled up to the roof and pulled himself over the top.
He saw the crouched figure of his opponent hunched over at the far end of the roof behind a chimney. He hadn’t yet seen Igor because he was looking off intently into the distance. Igor saw a dark speck moving in their direction. Most likely, the man’s escape chopper.
Igor scanned the yard below for Max or the other guard but didn’t see them anywhere. He wanted to yell for them, but then his enemy would see him coming. If he had Vladimir’s gun, Igor would be a sitting duck up here on the roof with nowhere to hide.
He scanned the distance between them, looking for the fastest and safest way to get to the man. Igor glanced to the side of the house on either side and felt his legs go weak. He didn’t care much for heights.
Igor moved down the far side of the roof a little way and began to move across the roof. He hoped that Max or the guard wouldn’t mistake him for the other guy and shoot at him. He continued moving in the direction he needed while keeping one eye on the ground below.
Looking down made him even more nervous about the distance he would fall if he slipped, but Igor kept hoping to catch sight of Max to point out the crouching figure at the far end of the roof.
The whirring blades of the helicopter could be heard in the distance, and Igor tried to pick up his pace. He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he got there. But he knew he couldn’t let the man getaway.
The only good thing about the chopper getting closer was that the noise would cover any sound that his feet made on the roof.
Igor looked up and saw a man in the door of the helicopter letting down a rope ladder. He tried to hurry his nervous shuffle along the side of the roof. The chopper was almost at the edge of the house, and he knew he was still too far to reach his suspect.
There was no reason to keep hiding now, and the sound of the chopper would cover any noise Igor made. So, he moved up to the top edge of the roof to be able to walk more quickly.
The man in the door of the helicopter nodded in Igor’s direction, and his opponent glanced back at him. He grinned and grabbed onto the rope ladder dangling down. Igor cast aside his nervousness and made a last-ditch effort to reach the man, but the chopper was already pulling away from the house.
Just then, Igor saw Max racing around the side of the house below with his gun raised. The pilot saw it too and jerked the helicopter back away from the direction it had been moving in towards the cover of the house directly in Igor’s direction.
It was close enough for Igor to reach out and grab at the man’s legs. His nemesis kicked and struggled against his hold, but Igor squeezed tighter. Afraid that the chopper would lift him off the roof along with the man. Igor threw his weight back and gave a final tug against the man before the helicopter moved on past him completely and dragged him along down the roof.
It threw Igor off balance, and the man on the ladder slipped off. Igor continued to hang on, and it was enough to pull the man off the ropes. He fell to the roof on top of Igor.
The last thing Igor saw before going down was a man in the door of the chopper exchanging shots with Max. He focused his attention on the man who had kicked himself away from Igor and rolled down the roof a ways from the top.
Igor stood shakily to his feet and started moving down to attack the man before he could get to his feet. But his opponent rolled over to the side and pulled out the gun he had shot Vladimir with. Igor threw himself back over onto the side of the roof.
He scanned the roof hastily for a way to escape, but there was nowhere to go but down. He was too far from the other end of the roof to get back down the ladder.
As he tried to think of a way out, his fingers brushed across a loose tile. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up to see the pale-faced figure glaring down at him with a grim smile on his face. Igor gulped as he stared into the barrel of the weapon.
Just then there was a loud ping as one of Max’s bullets connected with the chopper that was still hovering over the house just off to their side. The pale-faced man looked up to see what had happened as the helicopter spun out of control in their direction.
It flew low in the direction of the man who was standing to his full height on the top of the roof. He had to duck out of the way as the heavy metal bird swung overhead and began falling toward the top of the house.
The pilot struggled to keep it up and move it on past the edge, but it was coming down too fast, and he couldn’t control it.
Igor took advantage of the distraction to rip out the tile his hand was still on. He backhanded it up to knock the gun away from his direction. The weapon flew off to the side and landed on the roof. It clattered down the tiles a short way.
The landing skids of the helicopter began to grind into the roof off to the side with a loud crashing and splintering sound while the pilot fought to control the helicopter enough to get it over the edge of the house.
Igor made a break back toward the ladder at the far end of the house. As long as the man didn’t have any other way to get down, they could catch him there later. He paused to slide down toward the gun to make sure his nemesis wouldn’t be able to use it against them later.
But as he stooped to scoop it up, the man tackled him from behind. They both slid and rolled down the roof toward the edge. The helicopter continued to gouge down deeper into the roof on the side.
There didn’t seem to be much way for it to escape now. It was definitely coming down here on the roof. And the tail rotor blades were slowly swinging in their direction. Igor had to pause to duck back down and roll to the side.
The man was just ahead of him and scrambling back up toward the gun. Igor scrambled after him, but the man’s lighter frame was nimbler and faster.
He reached it first and scooped it up with Igor still behind him. Igor knew he didn’t stand a chance if the man turned on him.
Igor grabbed onto another tile and wrapped his hands around it. Trying to slip his fingers under it to loosen it. It wasn’t as easy to pull out as the previous one, but he got it just in time. He pulled it out as he brought his feet up under him.
Igor flung it angrily with all his might in the man’s direction just as he turned around with the gun pointing in Igor’s direction. He didn’t have much time to aim the tile and almost missed. But the edge of the tile still clipped him on the chin as it went on by. The sharp, jagged edge slicing through his cheek as it made it’s way past him.
The pale man’s face turned red with pain and splattered blood as he went down with an angry scream. Igor thew himself on top of the man’s body to keep him down and struggled to push his hand with the gun down onto the roof.
It didn’t take much of a struggle for Igor to wrestle the gun away from him. Between his superior weight and the pain he was in, Igor had the upper hand. The man still managed to land some kicks and blows before Igor pulled away with the gun and stood to his feet. Igor pointed the gun in the man’s face and dared him to make another move.
“Kick me one more time, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do,” Igor hissed.
He backed away a few feet. Igor wouldn’t have put it past the desperate man to throw himself over the edge just to take Igor with him. But the man had given up when he saw the chopper sinking and crashing down through the roof at the side of the house.
They both threw themselves down behind a chimney onto the roof as the rotor sliced and diced bits of tile on its way down through the building. Igor hoped everyone had managed to get out of that section of the house before it was too late.
Igor stood back up and watched the energy and fire drain from the eyes of his opponent when the man realized there was no way out. The pale-faced man slid back down onto the roof with a sigh and threw his head between his legs.
“Why did you do it?” Igor asked. “Kill Mr. Romanov and attack his daughter.”
The pale-faced man didn’t answer. He just spat blood from his mouth and scowled at Igor who wanted to threaten him. But he was too tired. There would be plenty of time to figure that out later. Right now, he just wanted to get down off the roof.
“Why did you try to frame me last night and this morning?” he asked out of curiosity when the thought struck him.
That brought a smile to pale-faced man’s eyes.
“You don’t know, do you?” he asked.
Igor shook his head.
“Your father sent me. He wanted you to see how a man should treat his enemies. You were always weak. He wanted to make sure you were here when you’re old enemy died.”
“I told my father I wasn’t going to come even though he insisted. And you had no idea I would walk in on you in the bathroom.”
The pale-faced man spat more blood and grinned. “Romanov would have used you to his own filthy ends. Your father found out you were coming, so he sent me to protect you and make sure that didn’t happen.”
So, what did Romanov want me to do?” Igor asked.
“What did he tell you?” the pale-faced man asked.
“Nothing. Just that he needed my help to resolve a problem. I assumed you were the problem.” Igor stated.
“Romanov thought you might be the leverage he could get over your father. He knew we were coming for him.”
“My father? But why?” Igor asked. “Are you the one he called the Rusalka?”
The pale-faced man started to smile before grimacing at the pain in his cut cheek. He spat out a mouthful of blood before answering.
“We are Rusalka. You included. Romanov wanted your DNA. He and his partner are in cahoots with some strange science experiments. You showed up, and he saw his opportunity. So, I had to act before it was too late.”
Igor was furious. This couldn’t be true. And even if it was, he couldn’t let this pale-faced turkey tell Max, Vladimir, or Alexandra about it. No telling what they would do for revenge.
His first thought was to shoot the man in the face. Or push him over the edge. Igor’s finger itched to pull the trigger while he still had the chance. But the man just smiled and flicked his eyes to the end of the roof. Igor followed his line of sight and saw Max pulling himself up over the edge of the roof.
“Don’t you mention a word of this to anyone,” Igor hissed. “What’s your name?”
The man flicked his eyes back to Igor, “Call me Rusalka,” he replied with a grin.
Igor glared at the pale-faced man and motioned for him to start walking. Max was about halfway across the roof when he saw them coming. So, he paused and waited.
“Nice catch,” Max said with a wicked grin. “Vladimir will have fun getting some answers out of him in our little torture chamber later.”
Igor grinned even though his stomach dropped and knotted up.
Max motioned with his head for them to follow him, and turned to take the lead since there wasn’t room for them to get around him.
They walked a few paces while Igor considered his options since he couldn’t risk the chance of Rusalka telling anyone what he had told Igor.
He saw a bar crossing the top of the roof in front of an antenna that had been installed. Igor reached out a hand and grabbed onto Rusalka’s jacket just as the man stepped over it.
Igor kicked him hard in the back of his heel. Smashing his raised heel into his other foot before he could take the step over the bar, which caused him to trip and stumble. He gave Rusalka a hard push from behind at the same time and watched the man tumble and roll down the roof.
Max watched him roll over the edge of the roof and then turned to look at Igor who shrugged.
“I guess the Slavic Mermaid has trouble walking out of the water,” Igor said while indicating the bar in front of him. “His legs turned back into a tail.”
Max smiled humorlessly. “Or he was more afraid of me getting my hands on him in the torture chamber. Did you get anything out of him? You two seemed quite chummy when I came over the top.”
Igor shook his head. “Not really, but he seemed to indicate that there was some sort of falling out with his business partner. What was his name? Andrey something or the other.”
Max gave him a strange look. Then shrugged. “It happens. No partnership lasts forever.”
He turned and kept walking with Igor close behind.
Alexandra was waiting for them below near the guard where Rusalka had fallen.
“Is he dead?” Igor asked, hopefully.
“If he’s not, he’ll probably wish he were,” the guard replied. “He landed on his head and shoulder. So, he’ll be paralyzed even if he lives. Or are you asking because you want me to put a bullet in him to make sure he is?”
That got a smile out of Max. Igor shuffled nervously around Rusalka’s body toward Alexandra who was looking at the fallen helicopter sticking out of the house where it had crashed.
“That’s gonna take some work to fix up,” Igor said to get her attention. “Was that your bedroom?”
She turned to look at him and threw her arms around him. “Thank you, Igor. You found the man who killed my father, as I requested.”
Igor grimaced, and she looked at him quizzically. “What?”
“Nothing, but I destroyed half your house trying to get him. I thought you would be angry.”
She smiled. “It’s just a house. It won’t be the same without my father. I can fix it up and sell it.”
“Hey, I’m the one that shot the helicopter down,” Max growled, not wanting to feel left out.
“Oh, so the damages are your fault,” Alexandra scolded playfully. “Then I will dock the repairs from your paycheck.”
“No, no. I think I missed. It was actually, Nikolay’s shot that brought it down.” Max growled with a sly grin.
The guard waved his hands and denied it. “I didn’t even get a chance to shoot,” he squealed roughly as Max slapped him upside the head.
Igor saw part of the rubble moving and started to walk forward.
“Best not to get too close until the firemen secure the area and make sure there isn’t any danger of explosion,” Max said, holding him back.
Igor nodded down the road toward the blare of sirens in the distance and continued walking. He pushed some of the rubble back and flipped over a bed. Someone stuck a grubby hand out from underneath it and raised his head so covered in dirt that Igor couldn’t tell who it was.
“What’s happened here? Am I dead? Are you the angel of death?”
“Denis,” Alexandra blurted out as she walked over. “What are you doing here?”
“By time the cops let me out of questioning last night, it was really late. And they knew I was drunk, so they wouldn’t let me drive. Hoa saw me standing around and offered to let me sleep in one of the unused guest rooms. I heard all that noise and felt the house shaking. So, I dove under the bed.”
Alexandra and Max helped him up and dusted him off. The firemen told them to leave. So, everyone walked over to the other side of the house.
Hoa and Bian brought out breakfast and drinks onto the far end of the patio where they ate and chatted about the day’s events like old friends.
“Well, I’m gonna see about getting a ticket home,” Igor said.
“No. Please stay,” Alexandra asked. “I owe you a green card and a job with the police.”
Igor was surprised at the change in her voice and attitude from the night before.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll stick around some more. Things around here have been pretty adventurous these past 24 hours. Besides, I do want to eat some donuts.”
“Good,” Alexandra said with a nod. “I’ll start making calls as soon as the firemen clear the house.”
*** The End (for now) ***
If you enjoyed reading this short story, make sure to join my Advanced Reading Crew so you can read my stories as I’m writing them.
Hello! Here is a new Learn English Short Story for you to improve your English speaking skills. Watch the video and listen to it several times. Make sure to use each of the 7 steps from the Integrated Learning System to develop each of your core skills. Then practice your English speaking by retelling the story to your friends.
There was a man from India who went to live in the USA. He was a researcher and university teacher. His name was Bryan Gupta.
One day, he woke up in hotel bed at 7:40 a.m. He didn’t know why he was there and his head was pounding. After a bit, he did remember that he had an important interview that day. So, he got up to take a shower.
Then he got dressed and had continental breakfast down in the hotel cafeteria. He noticed that the hotel employees were looking at him strangely. But he ignored them.
After breakfast, Bryan caught a taxi to the interview. When he arrived at the building, he told the secretary who he was and why he was there.
She looked surprised and asked him several questions. She wanted to know how to spell his name and then wanted him to confirm his address.
Finally, the secretary asked him to have a seat while she made some calls. A man arrived and broke some terribly shocking news.
Bryan had come to his interview a week after it had been scheduled. But what was even stranger was the fact that the man told Bryan that he had already come in for the interview one week earlier.
He felt very embarrassed over his behavior. Why had he forgotten about the previous interview? And why had he forgotten about everything that had happened the previous week.
Bryan asked how the interview had gone. The man told him that it had gone very well and had even been hired. But then Bryan had never showed up again. Someone had told the company that Bryan had died.
Bryan felt like he was in an episode from the Twilight Zone. He had the strangest feeling of Deja Vu.
The man told Bryan that he was very sorry, but someone else had been hired for the position. Bryan was very sad. Now he would have to find another job.
Bryan’s Interview – Q&A Mini Story
Listen carefully each question and then pause the video to answer it in your own words before hearing me tell you the answer.
Here are the questions from the video below. I did not add the answers because that would make things to easy for you. Right? But you can see them in the video above or see the answers in the PDF.
#1) Where did Bryan wake up?
#2) Did he go back to sleep?
#3) What time did Bryan wake up in the hotel?
#4) Where did he have to go that morning?
#5) What did he do after waking up?
#6) Who was looking at him strangely?
#7) How did he get to the building where his job interview was scheduled?
#8) When was Bryan’s interview scheduled for?
#9) Was Bryan able to talk with Mr. Grant?
#10) Why wasn’t Bryan able to talk with Mr. Grant?
Learn English Mini-Story Dialogue from Bryan’s Interview
Here is a short dialogue between Bryan and Mr. Grant’s secretary. Listen and repeat along with me to practice your English speaking skills.
Bryan: Well, I’m here to see Mr. Grant.
Secretary: Who are you exactly?
Bryan: Bryan. Bryan Gupta.
Secretary: And how do you spell that?
Bryan: G-U-P-T-A
Secretary: No, I mean your first name. Do you spell it with an I or with a Y?
Bryan: Oh, yes. B-R-Y-A-N. Like the singer, Bryan Adams.
Secretary: Did you say your name was Bryan Gupta?
Bryan: Well, my first name is actually Mandeep. That maybe the name you have in the system. But Bryan is actually my middle name, and it’s the name I go by here in America.
Secretary: Could you just confirm your address for me?
Bryan: Sure. It’s 4409 Rosemont Avenue. Could you please hurry. My interview with Mr. Grant is at 9:00 a.m. It’s 9:05 already. I’m sure he’s expecting me by now.
Secretary: Right. Sure, I’m…well, actually, the truth is that Mr. Grant won’t be able to see you today. I don’t have anything on his agenda with your name on it.
Bryan: Please, check again. I’m sure there’s been a mix-up. I called to confirm this appointment a few days ago.
Secretary: Well, I do apologize, sir. But Mr. Grant really won’t be able to see you today.
Bryan: Oh, c’mon. For crying out loud. You have got to be kidding me. What a total disrespect of my time. Why didn’t he just let me know in advance?
Secretary: If I may ask, Mr. Gupta, what day do you think this is?
Bryan: Monday, July first.
Secretary: It is Monday, sir, but it’s not the first of July. Would you like me to try to reschedule a meeting for you?
Bryan: Well, what day is it exactly.
Secretary: Monday, July eighth. I’m afraid there has been some sort of mistake. I do see you name here for an appointment last week.
Bryan: What am I going to do now?
Secretary: Well, have a seat and let me make some phone calls to see when I can reschedule you.
10 ESL Vocabulary Words from Bryan’s Interview
Here are 10 vocabulary phrases that I selected from the mini-story to explain the definitions. You’ll notice that most of them are in the past tense. Listen and repeat along with me to improve your English vocabulary skills.
Woke Up – To Stop Sleeping And Become Aware And Active Again
Got Dressed – Put Clothes On Your Body
Had Breakfast – Eat In The Morning For Your First Meal Of The Day
Caught A Taxi – Raise Your Hand To Signal To A Taxi Driver That You Need A Ride
Told Her – Communicate Information, Facts, Or News To Someone
Looked Surprised – To Appear Astonished Or In Shock At What Has Been Seen Or Heard
Have A Seat – A Polite Directive For Someone To Sit Down And Wait
Made Some Calls – To Use The Telephone To Talk To People
Arrived – To Reach Your Desired Destination Or Place You Need To Be
Broke The News – To Share Some Important Information With Someone
35 English Phrases To Ask Someone’s Name From Bryan’s Interview
Listen to these 35 question and answer phrases about how to ask someone’s name in English. These are not in order. They are just different ways of ask the same question so you can understand native speakers who talk with you.
Repeat and practice your pronunciation with me as many times as you need.
Hello! And welcome to Z4 Technologies Inc.
How can I help you?
What can I do for you?
I have an appointment this morning.
I have a meeting with Mr. Grant
I have an interview scheduled for 9:00 a.m.
Okay. What’s your name?
And you are?
Could you please tell me your full name?
What’s your first name?
Tell me your last name please?
My name is Bryan Gupta
I’m Bryan. That’s Bryan Gupta.
It’s Gupta. Bryan Gupta.
Do you spell that with an I or a Y, Bryan?
How do you spell that, Mr. Gupta?
Is that spelled with a TH or just a T, Mr. Gupta?
I’m sorry. I didn’t quite catch your last name.
Could you please repeat that for me?
Hm. I don’t see any interviews on his schedule.
Sorry, I don’t see your name on his agenda.
That’s strange. Mr. Grant doesn’t have any interviews scheduled for today.
Are you sure your interview was scheduled for today?
Yes, I’m absolutely positive.
I even called to confirm it yesterday before 6 p.m.
Could you please double-check his schedule?
Sure. Oh here it is. I must have missed it.
Yes. I do see that you have an interview scheduled with Mr. Grant this morning.
Unfortunately, Mr. Grant is running late though.
His pilot is running about 30 minutes behind.
There was a 25 minute delay at the airport because of the rain.
He asked us to push your meeting back 30 minutes.
Mr. Grant apologized and asked to reschedule your meeting for this afternoon
Would it be possible for you to return at 4:30 p.m.
I also have an opening for 5:45 p.m. if you prefer.
Or would you rather reschedule for tomorrow at 9:45 a.m.?
Tom Bentson is tired of moving every few months. He just wants to get a little job to make some money. Then he can rent his own place when his uncles move on.
But when his family asks him to help out with a little hustle, Tom knows he’s in for some shady business. Fortunately for him, Tom makes some new friends and finds a way to make the money he is looking for.
Until he meets his new friend’s crazy neighbor. Then things might not turn out so well for him.
Mystery abounds in this little city, and Tom just may have something to do with it. However, only time will tell.
Meantime, read Scorpion Sparks and meet Tom in this short read of 10,000 words that teens and adults can read in a single sitting.
