Heart of a Russian Bear Dog

by M. L. Buchman

  “She’s not your type?”

  “No. She said I wasn’t…” Tanya had inverted the sentence and it gave him pause. The beautiful blonde with the twangy West Virginia accent and a good sense of humor made him feel as if he should want her. But…

  He looked over at Tanya watching him. “All these years I never knew what my type was. I guess now I do, Tanya.”

  For once, she didn’t have anything snappy to say as he backed out of his spot and headed to her hotel.

  Instead of stretching our for a nap on the back seat, Valentin rode with his big head between them so that Alex couldn’t see Tanya’s expression.

  17

  All week, there was no sign of any attack.

  Instead, Tanya played her foreign policy game.

  She took her meetings. Afterward, Alex offered interesting contexts from history she’d never studied, on just what they meant—really—and how to get around the blockades that were raised. Once the carefully routine afternoon changeovers were done, she shifted mode and let Carlton show her the sights of their capital. It should have been fun. He was intelligent, had grown up here, and clearly wanted her. There was a nice kind of charge when a man wanted you, but with each day she found less and less voltage in it.

  With Alex, there was nothing but charge, a very high-energy one.

  Each night he picked her up after Carlton’s drop off.

  Twice she and Alex had gone dancing.

  But the nights they spent at his place with Valentin were the best.

  The hotel was too neat, too perfect. She liked eating Chinese food on the couch and making love on the low mattress—now that they’d opened enough boxes to find the sheets.

  Each morning they ran together with Valentin, once with Bethany and both dogs. She was an easy woman to like, even though Valentin did his best to stay between them.

  Ukrainian had about a two-thirds vocabulary overlap with Russian and Alex had a very sharp ear. Their lovemaking rapidly slid into Ukrainian; food soon followed.

  If he still harbored Pushkinesque fantasies, he kept them to herself.

  “I see two problems,” she told him the morning of the fifth day as she lay in his arms. The mattress was still on the floor. Though about half of the boxes were unpacked, he still hadn’t found the hardware for the frame.

  “Give me a minute to recover before I try to solve one of them.”

  She kissed him briefly. He was very sweet.

  “The second problem is that I’m supposed to fly home immediately after the treaty is signed in two days.”

  Alex just grunted unhappily. “The Secret Service isn’t in the habit of posting its dog handlers to Kyiv.”

  “You’ll miss the sex.”

  “Hell yeah.”

  Which was going to really irritate her for being his priority, even if she’d miss it too.

  “At least half as much as I’ll miss you,” he growled out in a surly mashup of Ukrai-ssian which made her feel much better.

  “Yes,” she agreed carefully as she tested the thought inside. “Yes.” In a single week she’d come to care about Alex Warren a great deal. Not once past the first meeting had he seen her as Pushkin’s Tatyana Larina helplessly flailing against society’s dictates and whims. Nor did he see her as Father did: a useful tool to fill an important government position, expanding his control. And definitely not as if she was a mere steppingstone toward advancement.

  Alex saw her as his lover. As a crusader for Ukrainian rule for the Crimea. And as more of a person and less of a “woman” than she’d thought herself. Everyone always treated her as a woman first, until she’d believed that was most of what she was. But Alex, despite being her lover, seemed to bring her into focus—to herself—as a person.

  Last night, after making love, they’d actually talked of her long-term plans for the future of reunifying Ukraine.

  She’d never laid out the full scope of her plan to anyone, not even Father. It was an impossible task and the few she’d even partially revealed it to had laughed outright.

  With Alex, they’d debated late into the night about just what it would take to achieve that goal based on the various countries’ present-day geopolitical dynamics.

  This morning they lay together in silence for a while, neither of them finding anything more to say about the fast-approaching end of their time together.

  Finally Alex grumbled out, “What’s the first problem?”

  “The first problem—” Tanya took a deep breath. “You can not become strange with me about this.”

  Alex nodded his agreement.

  “The first problem is…that I want to go to the Library of Congress this afternoon. They have a first edition of Pushkin’s Eugene Onegin. I have had my embassy call and they’ve arranged for me to see it at the same time as your turnover to Carlton. Now, one unwise remark out of you and I’ll… I’ll… I will tell Valentin to sit on you.”

  He smiled. “Oh, I’m so afraid of my own dog.”

  Her typical “retributions” when Alex was being impossible about something could be very enjoyable as they typically ended in great sex. She’d never get enough of him and that “second problem” was a major one. But as to the first, if he did not behave…

  “It would be my pleasure to escort you there, Ms. Tatyana Larina.”

  “Valentin!” She called to the dog where he slept close by her side of the bed. Tanya pointed at Alex’s chest. “Sidet’!”

  Valentin hopped to his feet, stepped lightly over her, and sat on Alex’s chest.

  “Goddamn it,” Alex grunted as seventy-five kilos of dog landed squarely on him.

  “Myesto!” She ordered him to Stay.

  Then she slipped out of bed, and made a point of walking very slowly toward the shower while Alex tried to get his dog off his chest.

  18

  Tanya’s Crimean Campaign, as they now called it between themselves, had led him up and down embassy row and into both the Capitol Building, which was impressive, and the Pentagon, which was a little alarming. She was a true force of nature. Alex figured if anyone could actually achieve her so-unlikely objective, it would be Tanya Larina.

  But Alex hadn’t yet been to the Library of Congress.

  He hated not being able to check out the premises before escorting Tanya there, but that had been the pattern of much of their week.

  The Library of Congress lay east across the street from the Capitol Building, just south of the pillared Supreme Court Building. The broad marble steps zigzagged around either side of a large fountain.

  “It is the court of the Neptune King,” Tanya announced.

  “King Neptune, the god of the sea. What is he doing guarding the Library of Congress?”

  “I was thinking that might make sense to you Americans. It makes no sense to this Ukrainian.”

  Alex stared at the large bronze king. All about him, his courtiers blew fountains of water out the end of conch shells raised as trumpets. “It’s because he visits here so often. You see, it’s very hard to read books in his underwater kingdom. Of course, you wouldn’t recognize him. He comes disguised as an out-of-practice scholar of old Russian literature.”

  Tanya turned to him and after a long moment whispered, “But I do recognize him, Mishka.”

  Alex blinked. Little Bear. An endearment between girlfriend and boyfriend. Until this moment, they had avoided the little nicknames so common between Slavic couples. It felt both wonderful and painful, the former because of its truth and the latter because of its looming end. It was made even more appropriate by the big Russian bear dog presently leaning over the fountain for a drink of water.

  But what was Tanya? Tygrenya, his “little tiger”? Or…

  “Drakonchyk.”

  Tanya blinked in surprise, then wrapped her arms around his neck and his Little Dragon kissed him most thoroughly.

  “What?” He kept her close after the kiss.

  “The way you see me…it is wonderful!”

  A hard
snarl from Valentin had him instantly shoving Tanya behind him and grabbing for his sidearm.

  “What I’m seeing is going to knock you out of the goddamn service!” Carlton stepped right up into his face. “Fast!”

  Ripper let out a hard snarl. He must have mistaken Carlton’s snarled “Fast” for “Fass”—attack!

  He leapt at Alex.

  Before Alex could do more than raise an arm in self defense, Valentin casually raised a massive paw and swatted the Malinois aside, tumbling him into the fountain.

  Ripper came out of the water in a fighting rage and leapt on Valentin. But even the Malinois’ jaws were little match for Valentin’s thick coat.

  Valentin twisted far faster than anyone would expect from his bulk. He clamped his massive jaw down on the back of Ripper’s Secret Service Kevlar vest, shook him free of his bite on Valentin’s scruff, then tossed him back into the water as if he was a bath toy, not seventy pounds of furious attack dog.

  Ripper braced to leap over the fountain’s concrete edge. Alex could almost feel Valentin roll his eyes and sigh. Then he turned to face Ripper directly and braced himself for action. This was going to end badly for Ripper.

  “You’d better call him off unless you want him hurt,” Alex warned, keeping his body between Tanya and the near-apoplectic Carlton.

  “Fuss!” Carlton snapped out. “Platz!”

  Ripper’s snarl still echoed deep in his chest as he climbed from the water and came to Heel. He gave himself a big shake that sprayed Carlton with near-freezing fountain water. But he didn’t Lie Down.

  Valentin tracked his every step very closely.

  “Ruhig!” Alex ordered Ripper to be Quiet in German while Carlton wiped at his own face. The Malinois obeyed, though his teeth remained bared.

  Carlton looked even angrier that Alex could command his dog. It was a shortcoming that Valentin did not share. Except for his curious obedience to Tanya, Valentin would ignore anyone other than Alex himself.

  “I have control now,” Carlton snapped at him. “You are relieved of duty pending review. I will be reporting both of you to Captain Baxter.”

  Tanya stepped around him with what sounded like a truly foul Ukrainian imprecation but he thought might translate as “ducks are going to kick your ass.” She’d told him that Ukrainians used Russian when they wanted a gutter-foul curse. Their native language leant itself mostly to insults.

  “You,” she jabbed a Ukrainian Fort 17 pistol under Carlton’s chin, forcing him to tip his head back.

  Alex had noticed the small 9mm in her purse several times but she was so smooth and practiced that he hadn’t spotted her drawing it—a useful skill on a busy street. It was small enough that she almost appeared to have her fingers around Carlton’s throat.

  “You wish vengeance because his dog is stronger than yours,” her voice was dangerously calm—stripped of all the lilt and emotion that normally made it so rich. “Or because he stops Russian attackers and you do not. Or he sleeps with me and you do not. Ah, I see that is what makes you angriest. I will tell you this, Lieutenant Carlton Tibbets, there was never a chance that I wanted to see if your tiny dick matched your massive ego.” She used a sharp jab with her gun to send Carlton stumbling back.

  Then the gun disappeared back into her purse, again with the smooth move of a professional. Alex kept forgetting that she’d been an elite soldier. A story that had come out after he’d had trouble waking her one time when she’d slept on her right ear.

  “I make my choices,” she was still browbeating Carlton. “Any man who interferes with them will answer to me first and your President tomorrow after he signs my treaty. ”

  Carlton’s aristocratic affectations crumbled enough that he growled almost as dangerously as Ripper had.

  Alex knew he had to break the tableau if he wanted any chance of keeping his job. And if he was fired from the Service…Valentin belonged to the US government, not to him. That couldn’t be allowed to happen.

  “Ms. Larina,” he addressed her formally to try and get her out of soldier-mode. “You have an appointment with the Library of Congress librarian.”

  “Yes.” She blew out a hard breath, then tugged down her jacket to shift it into place.

  He’d have to tease her about acting like Captain Picard. Later.

  “Yes. Let us go.” She tugged the hem of her jacket again, making him smile. She spotted that and raised an eyebrow in question.

  He made a show of tugging his own vest into place.

  She glanced down at her hands. Then her smile said that Star Trek was something else they could enjoy together.

  Without another word, she turned and headed up the stairs.

  When he went to follow, Carlton ground out. “You’re relieved, Warren.”

  “Ko mne,” Tanya called without turning.

  Valentin had the decency to check in with him rather than just answering the Come command, literally To Me.

  Alex offered a shrug to Carlton that said it was his decision.

  Carlton was biting his tongue so hard that it had to hurt.

  He finally waved a hand to proceed.

  Alex signaled Valentin to run ahead and catch up with Tanya who’d kept climbing the stairs.

  Ripper raced by Alex a moment later.

  “Damn you to hell,” Carlton said as they started up the steps together. He might have added, “Lucky bastard.” But it was hard to tell.

  19

  Tanya was most of the way up the long flight of stairs when she noticed the change.

  Ripper trotted ahead, close beside Valentin as if looking for an opening to attack the larger dog.

  But between one step and the next, both dogs froze, but only for an instant.

  Then, in unison, Valentin swung left and Ripper to the right. Then they swung back into line in front of her. All of their attention was at the head of the stairs.

  “But there’s no one there, boys.”

  The dogs ignored her.

  They were on a scent.

  Might it be the same scent they’d chased out behind the coffee shop on—

  The next few moments happened so quickly, yet seemed to occur in such slow motion, that she could see every moment.

  Just as her foot hit the top step, Ripper leapt at a shadow in the archway.

  Halfway aloft, there was a sharp crack. It sounded like a gunshot…almost. But her training told her it was a Taser.

  Ripper dropped like… Yes, he’d been Tasered! His body gone completely limp.

  Valentin grabbed the shooter’s arm in his jaw and whipped it sideways. There was another sharp crack, this time of his bone breaking. The man screamed until Valentin threw him into one of the marble columns that supported the entry arch. He hit headfirst and dropped to the ground beside Ripper.

  That was the moment that Alex slammed into her from behind.

  He took her down with a roll that had him taking the hit of slamming onto the stone entryway. He continued the roll until she was lying face down on the cold granite and he was spread-eagled over her.

  There was a quick bark of gunfire.

  Alex jerked atop her.

  “Alex!” The scream ripped out of her. When she struggled to rise to see how badly he’d been hurt, he pushed her cheek down against the ground.

  “Stay still.”

  Then, directly in her line of sight, a man in jeans and a light jacket dropped to the ground just a meter away. He had two large, red stains on his chest.

  Blood. He’d been shot. Not Alex!

  Alex shifted. Not off her, but as if reaching…

  There was another crack of a firing Taser close by her good ear. He kept her pinned and she couldn’t turn to see the third body that hit the ground, but she could certainly hear it.

  20

  Alex checked the area and the attackers carefully before shifting off Tanya.

  When she tried to stand, he pushed her back down to sit on the top step. “I had to take you down pretty hard. Just give
yourself a moment.”

  She nodded vaguely. He could see the adrenaline letdown shakes kick in, but she didn’t appear to be injured.

  Perp Number Three was still out with a pair of Taser leads that Alex had fired into his chest.

  Perp Number Two was dead on the ground with Carlton’s two bullets in his chest.

  Perp Number One was groaning awake after Valentin’s abuse.

  Alex handcuffed him, even with the shattered arm, then patted him down. The man wore flesh-toned gloves. When he forced open the man’s good hand, he spotted a small spray bottle, and froze.

  Novichok was all he could think. The Russians had tried to kill Sergei Skripal, a former spy, in the UK. They’d almost taken out him and his daughter. The poison had also nearly killed several of the investigators.

  Very carefully, he bagged the toxic nerve agent.

  Valentin stood poised to attack the man again as he groaned, coming to full consciousness.

  “Domoy!” he ordered.

  Valentin didn’t need him to point to know that he should Go Home to Tanya. It was only as Tanya was reaching out to embrace him that the risk sunk in. If any of the poison was on Valentin’s fur—

  “Sit, Valentin. Sidet’!” Valentin froze halfway between them and sat.

  Tanya reached out.

  “No! Don’t touch him!” She too froze, then looked at him in surprise.

  Alex checked to see what Carlton was doing. But he hadn’t moved. His FN P90 submachine gun was still clenched in his hands…with the safety off.

  Alex crossed to him, clicked the safety on, and then pushed the gun down until it rested once more against Carlton’s chest.

  “I—” Carlton blinked hard but looked like he was only halfway back. “I’ve never had to actually shoot someone before.”

  “I know. It’s hard. But you did the right thing.” Then he remembered what a long-ago partner had done for him. So, he just stopped to chat—in a normal tone—for a moment as if everything was fine and they hadn’t all three just almost died. “You get through it.”