Julia Gousseva: Gray Shadows: Russian Historical Thriller

He turned his head to the side and saw a large basket of fruit and a teddy bear.

“I feel like a real sick person with all these gifts.”

“The fruit is from Vasily Petrovich. It’s been here since yesterday morning. And the teddy bear is from me.”

“Thank you, Olechka. Did you say yesterday morning? How long have I been here?”

“Forty-eight hours, most of them unconscious.”

“That’s a long time. How’s Vasily Petrovich?”

“Just fine. He was treated and released. Nothing serious, thanks to you. Just a few scrapes and bruises, mostly from the fall. No bullet wounds. He was worried about you and said you were a real hero.” Olga’s voice cracked a little, and she looked away for a moment.

“And he’s got real enemies,” Nikolai said.

“Do you know who was after him?” Olga said. “And after you?”

Nikolai wished he could tell Olga that the assailants had been caught and were about to be prosecuted and put in prison for a long time. But that would be a blatant lie, a lie that Olga would not believe.

“Not exactly, but I have my suspicions,” Nikolai said, settling for a half-lie. He had no idea who the guys in the truck were, and even if they were ever found, the odds of which were lower than winning the Moscow City Lottery, they would never admit as to who had hired them. Most likely, they did not know who it was as the order would have been handed down through a string of intermediaries, none of whom knew the whole chain of command. The only thing Nikolai was sure of is that this was no botched burglary. These guys were contract killers. Luckily for Nikolai and Vasily Petrovich, they were not the highest professionals.

Nikolai forced a smile. “Let’s talk about something else. How are you doing? How’s work?”

“Work is fine. Going to St. Petersburg for a few days to get some things finalized before the big presentation next week,” Olga said.

“I’ll take some time off and come with you.”

Olga leaned in and kissed Nikolai gently. “That’s a nice thought, but the doctor thinks you’ll need to stay here for about five more days.”

“I don’t have to listen to the doctor. I can recover better in St. Petersburg.”

“No, you can’t. You have a lot of bone and soft tissue injuries, and they need to do some more X-rays on your knee now that the swelling has gone down.”

“My knee will be just fine.”

“I hope so. But to make sure that it is, you need to recover here, and not in St. Petersburg. But I’d love it if you came with me to the big corporate dinner party next week. That’s where I will really need your support.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Nikolai said.

“Great. But for now just rest, and I’ll send the nurse to check on you. I’ll call you in the morning, when I get to St. Petersburg.” She smiled and waved from the door. “Take care of yourself. I’ll be back soon!”

As soon as the door closed behind her, Nikolai stretched and rubbed his sore back. Lying in a hospital bed for two days did not do any favors for his physical condition or his morale. He did not like Olga to see him in this weak state; right now, he was not a good match to her energy and independence. He wanted to be strong for her. Always.

When he first met Olga, he was still a student at the Moscow Military Academy, planning for a career in the military, with a stable income, good benefits, and an ability to provide for his family. Most likely, that was what Olga expected at that time, too. All girls from the Pedagogical Institute who came to their Saturday night dances wanted a husband and children. Olga’s teaching degree would have been a perfect match for his military career: teachers were needed in all cities, towns, and villages, so she would be guaranteed a job. That was then. Now, just a few years later, life was different.

Olga was amazing. Many of her college friends were barely surviving on their teacher salaries or were still looking for jobs, having a hard time finding their place in the new Russia. Olga adjusted to the new circumstances with ease, grace, and even a certain playfulness.

Nikolai realized that most men would have been ecstatic to have a woman like Olga in their lives and would have no qualms about accepting her love and attention, and reciprocating it. For a while, that was how Nikolai felt, too, but lately things have been changing.

Nikolai admired the way Olga had adjusted to the new life, but he liked the old Olga more. She used to be passionate about teaching, about making kids’ lives better, and she was an idealist. When Nikolai used to think of their life together, he imagined her going to work at a school every morning, coming home in the afternoon, marking papers in the evenings, and sharing school stories with him, just like his mom did with his dad.

But that’s not what happened. Olga’s life now was all about business trips to St. Petersburg, fancy dinners, presentations, high heels, and business suits. It took her no time to apply her math degree to accounting. And she was quite successful, as evidenced by yet another likely promotion after this latest presentation. Nikolai felt out of place in her new world. Of course, his life was very different now, too, but he felt that at his core, he was still the same: the warrior, the protector, and the idealist.

His thoughts were interrupted by the opening door.

“Sleeping on the job?” Anatoly, his boss and the owner of the Centurion Personal Protection Agency, strolled into the room. As always, he looked elegant and dignified, his broad shoulders and muscular build accentuated by a well-tailored coat. In his mid-forties, he was still in a great shape, physically and mentally. He prided himself on not only running the administrative part of his agency but also teaching martial arts classes and getting personally involved with all the cases and clients. His life was busy, but he often told Nikolai that he could not imagine it any other way.

Anatoly looked around and smiled broadly. “Quite a resort here. And I’m paying for all this?”

“Nice to see you, too,” Nikolai said. “What are you doing here? Things are slow at the office?”

“Things are always slow without you,” Anatoly responded, pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed. “Which is not always bad.” He chuckled, then his expression got serious. “You’ve had all of us worried. I’m glad you’re looking and feeling better. “

“Thanks. Any news on the guys who tried to kill us?”

“Not much.” Anatoly shook his head. “The police are investigating, but we both know what that means.”

Nikolai nodded. “They’re going to say it was a robbery, but nothing was taken. As usual.”

“As they have said in similar cases, the robbery was botched because a passer-by scared them off.”

“Right,” Nikolai said. “So what do you think? Hired killers?”

“No doubt. The question is who hired them and why. Of course, we’ve always known that Vasily Petrovich has plenty of enemies.”

“Has he told you any more about the meeting he was scheduled to attend the morning we got attacked?”

“Not yet. Why?” Anatoly said.

“He seemed stressed and tense about it, more than usual. We need to find out the details about it.”

“I’ll look into that, thanks. But you rest. We need you back healthy.”

The next few days dragged on and on. The doctor insisted on keeping Nikolai in the hospital for more tests, observations, and physical therapy. Any objections on Nikolai’s part were met with doctor’s stern comments, “Your boss told me that you will not observe the rest regimen at home if we discharge you early. So, we won’t.”

Finally, a week later, the doctor announced that Nikolai could be discharged. His leg was mostly healed, and the soreness in his back was going away. Nikolai was ready to get back to work, but when he mentioned the idea to the doctor, the doctor shook his head and said, “Your job for the next few weeks is to use a cane and get plenty of rest. Nothing else.”