The Dysfunctional Affair
before Vlad and Kenzie had left Spain. My stomach flopped at that statement.
Anthony and Vasilii were looking for him. Vlad was pretty sure he was coming this way. Devlin agreed, because somehow, Oleg Borisovich had gotten wind that Alex and I were involved in this fiasco. Probably because Vasilii had contacted him, but turned the woman over to the police instead of killing her. The NSA was on high alert for his presence in the US, as was Homeland Security.
After they finished, it didn’t take long for Zeke to start making calls. He arranged for the handymen to come over immediately and fix the front of the house as well as the security system. I sat, numb, in a chair.
Over the years, a few big, bad wolves had come my way, most of them Russian Mob. However, they didn’t scare me. Not like Oleg Borisovich, who had pulled the strings of the Russian Mob to try to have me killed on several occasions.
“We need to protect Ivan,” I blurted out.
“It’s being taken care of,” Vlad said. I was pretty sure Vlad was CIA. I was also pretty sure Devlin worked for the NSA. They would have friends in high places. “However, he’s never come after us, just you and Alex. You’re women and killing women is more damaging to the Russian family structure than killing men.”
To some degree, this was true. Starting in the early 1900’s Russian women had gotten used to not having Russian men around. There was the Russian Revolution, World War I, World War II, Soviet leaders who liked to kill people, and poverty. In this sense, the death of a Russian woman was more damaging to the family structure. However, those days were largely behind Russia, and the value of women was being reduced some. To our misfortune, Oleg Borisovich had grown up during the Soviet era, not the new Russian era.
However, the good news was that my family had never intended to kill Oleg Borisovich. The bad news was that my family had never intended to kill Oleg Borisovich. This created mixed feelings for me. If he was dead, the Russian mob would leave me alone. However, I hated to think that my family were murderers. Even Anthony was family at this point.
Oleg Borisovich
Kenzie and Alex both snored beside me. Two of my Great Danes were also in my room. They snored louder than either girl. The Pamprin had really zonked the dogs out. However, even the pain meds and the armed guards didn’t help me sleep. I tossed and turned in my normally wonderful bed. The muscles in my neck and shoulders were tight from stress. I would need to see a chiropractor and a massage therapist, if I survived long enough to make the appointment.
In the distance a dog or coyote let out a long, mournful howl. Under normal conditions, one or more of my dogs would have answered. Tonight, they were too tired to hear him and too drugged to care. Maybe I shouldn’t have given them a Pamprin.
My ears strained listening for other noises. A computer or radio was playing softly downstairs, no doubt helping to keep one of the sentries awake. Beyond that, there was very little noise. The furnace groaned and popped as it heated up. However, with it being winter, there weren’t any insects outside to chirp and sing.
It was too quiet. I don’t live in the city, I live outside of it on a two lane black top road. My nearest neighbor is about half a mile away. It is nearly impossible to see the road or the entrance to my driveway from the house. However, there were still traffic noises.
Despite the narrow highway, it was part of suburban Kansas City. My house was one of many estates in a long line along the road. The entire area had been sold off in large wooded lots to people with enough money to purchase such things. As a result, there were teenagers coming and going at all hours. There were adults coming and going at all hours and the road was traversed by through traffic, headed to and from Raytown, as long as they didn’t mind taking the back way.
Tonight there was none of that. It was eerie to hear almost nothing. I climbed from bed and headed downstairs. It was still a challenge, but I was healing. Vlad sat on the couch, a TV showed the driveway entrance. His laptop played quiet music.
“Can’t sleep?” He asked.
“No, it’s too quiet. How many cars have gone past?” I pointed at the TV, surprised to find one working and mounted to my wall.
“None in the last hour or so.”
“Where’d the TV come from?”
“Ivan brought to us.”
“That’s odd.” I gazed at the screen. Nothing moved on it except some tree branches in time with the wind. “It is the weekend, right?”
“Ivan bringing us a TV or that it’s a Saturday night?” Vlad asked.
“It’s Saturday.” I said.
“Yeah,” Vlad answered.
“So where are all my neighbors?”
“You don’t have neighbors.”
“Not in the traditional sense, but I do have neighbors. Someone should be out. There isn’t any snow on the ground, no ice covering the roads, the temperatures aren’t even below freezing, so where are they?”
“How much traffic are we talking about?” Vlad asked.
“Enough that I moved the sensors about twenty feet back from the road, because at least once a night, someone would set them off driving too close to the shoulder. Or someone would get lost and turn around in my driveway.” I had suspicions that if the police ever put up a DUI checkpoint on the road, most of my neighbors would be spending a night in jail.
I had some perimeter alarms, but they were also near the road. The back of my land butted up to conservation land. Animals had set off the side and back perimeter alarms, so I had uninstalled them some time ago.
Anubis padded down the steps. He looked terrible, even for a dog. That would teach him to binge on booze. He went to the door and sniffed it. However, they had a doggie door through the utility room, so I didn’t get up to let him out. He’d remember it soon enough. I went back to staring at the TV screen, willing some traffic to drive by.
Anubis walked over to me, I reached out to pet him, but he drew back. His teeth were bared, but he wasn’t growling. The hair on his neck was standing up.
“What’s wrong...” Vlad started. I stopped him with a finger to my lip. A few years earlier, a mountain lion had gotten in my house through the giant doggie door. Anubis had reacted the same way to it.
“Geht’s,” I whispered to the dog. Anubis didn’t move towards the door, instead he moved deeper into the shadows of the living room. The big dog nudged his brother. Baldur raised his head, sniffed, and bared his teeth. Something was definitely wrong. The two began to circle the living room.
“I’ll go do the same,” Vlad whispered as Baldur and Anubis woke up the other dogs. The Danes spoke without verbal communication. It was interesting to watch their behavior. They were all on alert for something, something I couldn’t see, smell, or touch. I wondered if it was another mountain lion or perhaps, something more dangerous.
Anubis and Baldur returned to the front door. Marduk and Set went to the utility room. Loki and Enki stayed inside, drawing near to me. Within a few moments, everyone was in my living room without any lights on. Zeke went to the front door and opened it. There was a long howl and Anubis charged out the door. I heard the flap in the utility room bang as it swung wildly. Enki and Loki began to growl, stepping backwards, moving the group of us closer together.
Danes were technically hunting dogs. However, they were also known as being loyal and protective. In my Danes, we had encouraged both their hunting and protective instincts. As the two smallest Danes herded us together, I realized I still wasn’t carrying a gun with me.
The growl intensified, becoming deeper, it rumbled through the body more than it did the ears, like that of a large predatory cat. Until my Danes had done it, I didn’t know it was possible for a dog to make a noise that low in frequency.
There was an inhuman noise from outside. All four Great Danes came dashing in through the utility room door. They encircled us. My brothers, Zeke, Sebastian and Alex had all drawn gun
s. Something warm and wet brushed my leg. Anubis was bleeding. The sound must have come from him. Zeke, Sebastian and my brothers started to communicate using hand signals. Alex and I watched as they began to spread out. Without warning, my front door exploded inwards. A cold wind blew through the entrance and into the hallway that led to the kitchen and living room. Gunshots followed, I dove to the floor as the men began to return fire. Alex and Kenzie dove with me. The Danes smothered us, keeping close.
“Nadine Seanevna Daniels!” A male voice cut through the sound of gunfire. No one used my patronymic, it wasn’t even on my birth certificate. My father, Sean Daniels, had tried to erase some of our Russian traditions. I had a middle name, like most Americans, even if it was strange and Russian.
The voice was unknown to me. It was thick with a Russian accent. Deep like a bear’s growl. I tried to shrug at my brothers over the backs of my dogs and wasn’t sure the gesture could be seen.
“Nadine Seanevna Daniels!” The voice shouted again. If I hadn’t come skipping out the first time, I certainly wasn’t going to do it just because he did a second time. “I have the place surrounded.” I doubted that. It was hard to get to my property through the conservation land. It was heavily protected because there was a breeding population of mountain lions in it, even though the Department of Conversation swore