Book 20 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Life goes on until an old friend calls, what's going on in Moscow? WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Dannigan swallowed the eight hundred milligram ibuprofen tablets and washed them down with coffee. All branches of the service called them the same thing; Grunt candy. It'd been a week since Barcelona and he was still sore all over, sporting a multitude of bruises including two blackened eyes. the doctor also pointed out he had two cracked ribs as well. He was better off than the irish woman though. Lyssa really did a number on her.
He'd read reports about her interogations but never watched before. She truly could make Charles Manson look like Mary Poppins and stay objective about it. The bonus was all the intel from Straga's apartment. It was actually a revised who's who of terrorist suppliers; weapons, smuggling, forgers, financiers. Interpol made sure that every agency in the world had the updated information.
The office would be quiet for a while. Madison had taken time off, she'd earned it. St.Louis was nice this time of year so she should be enjoying the visit with her family. Lyssa and Rodrick were doing well; the tuxedos were selected, they were registered for crystal, china and silverware. He'd already purchased the silverware for them on behalf of the agency and as a personal gift he'd reserved a yacht to take them around the euro-side of the Mediterranean. that should keep them both out of trouble and focused on
being newlyweds for ten days. All they had to do was get there.
A lot of time between now and then so anything could and more than likely, would happen. Murphy ruled the would, agencies just cleaned up after. He laughed at the analogy, and thought to himself that it would look good on a t-shirt. Nothing earth-shattering was jumping up so he decided to call it a day early and headed out for the weekend.
Lyssa and Rodrick sat looking through brochures and not liking anything. All tourist weddings, resorts mainly. The last thing either of them wanted was a bunch of tourists around.
The planner came back in,"sorry about that interruption, now Caribbean club will be perfect. We'll decorate the palm trees with your colors and have an aisle of smoothed, imprinted sand down the beach..."
"Whoa. Hold it," Lyssa interrupted,"once again; we don't want a beach wedding. I'll explain one last time; we're not tourists. A guest list of a hundred. We already have catering, including the cake and would like a chapel or cathedral please."
She sat with a blank look for a moment then pulled another brochure, "The Ritz-Carlton has a lovely spot along the water.."
"Let's go,"Rodrick stood up.
"Yeah. We need a professional's help," Lyssa replied.
"Excuse me! I am a professional," the planner huffed.
"What did Lyssa say we did NOT want,"Rodrick asked looking over the rims of his aviator shades.
"But this is the Islands; everybody gets married on the beach," she protested.
"Not EVERYBODY and just for your information my house is on the beach you fucking ditz," Lyssa said coldly then walked out as Rodrick held the door for her.
They drove over to the resturaunt and sat at the bar.
Adrianne, the Manager, set their drinks down, "How'd it go?"
"She about drove us crazy. Nothing but beach weddings and resort hotels, blah blah blah,"Lyssa fumed.
"Anything we said went in one ear and out the other...shortest trip in the Caribbean," Rodrick commented.
Adrianne looked shocked,"Are you serious? She came highly recommended."
"By whom,"Lyssa asked directly.
"Board of tourism," Adrianne admitted meekly.
"ugh. Adrianne that's the whole point, we're not tourists," Lyssa reminded her.
"Lyssa everybody local gets married in a church, but neither of you are members of one. Remember,"she pointed out," you two are here then gone and come back but out of sight sometimes days at the time."
"ok, we get it Adrianne. we live here but not locals,"Rodrick stated.
"well, to be honest; you aren't," She answered him.
They were all silent for a few moments then Adrianne said, "The only place that might be sort of what you want might be that new place, its actually made to look very old. almost gothic looking I guess you could say. Its on the bluff overlooking the bay. Damn I can't remember the name of it, but it is a church."
Rodrick looked at Lyssa and shrugged, "what could it hurt to go look?"
Lyssa nodded and they left.
Ekaterina couldn't stand it. She didn't want to be afraid anymore but she didn't know who to trust that would help her. Her prima called her out.
"Katrina! You must focus. Again you are out of position," she said firmly.
"yes Prima Katya," she replied.
Katya Taliyenko watched her and within moments her understudy was out of position again, "stop stop stop. Wrong again. Watch me Katrina and learn well."
Katya went through the set again then walked back,"now you."
Her understudy went through it with difficulty and had to be called down.
The dance Mistress finally stepped in,"that's enough for today."
Ekaterina sighed as she slipped off her shoes and stuffed them into her bag and left.
"Olga I don't understand, "Katya said, "I've seen her dance before. This should be easy for her."
Olga simply nodded then turned to go into the next room where several young girls worked on basics while Katya unlaced her pointe-shoes and put them in her bag.
Something outside drew her attention. Ekaterina stood talking with two men, one of which quickly slapped her. Katya Immediately jammed her feet into her shoes and ran for the door.
"You will do as we say Katrina," one man said.
"NYET," Katya yelled as she slapped the man,"HOW DARE YOU TOUCH A DANCER IN SUCH A WAY!"
"Prima Katya please no," Ekaterina pleaded and tried to pull her back.
One of the men started forward but the other held him back and shook his head.
"GO! ONLY THE HONORED MAY COME HERE! AND YOU HAVE NONE," Katya demanded.
They gave Ekaterina a menacing look then slowly left.
"Please Prima, I am in so much trouble now. I have to go," Ekaterina turned and ran down the street.
Katya saw the tiger tattoos on the men, she needed help. She hurried home and locked the doors. After watching for a few minutes she took out her phone and dialed the only person she knew could help.
Rodrick grabbed Lyssa's phone by accident.
He answered sleepily, "You better be dying."
"Rodrick? Where is Lyssa? I need Lyssa please," Katya said quickly.
She heard him mumble, "girl in Russian."
Lyssa asked sleepily in russian,"Hello?"
Katya launched into rapid Russian, "Lyssa I have no favor owed but I need you,please."
Lyssa was awake now, "Whoa slow down Katya I only caught like three words of that. start over and go slowly."
Lyssa slipped out of bed to talk on the deck so Rodrick could go back to sleep.
"Lyssa I need help, I have no favor owed but I need you," Katya said.
"What's the problem? Aren't you in Moscow,"Lyssa asked.
"Da, Lyssa my understudy. There is something with mafia. I have no one else to call you can do things. You protected us. I do not know what to do," Katya pleaded.
"ok Katya calm down, are you sure about this mafia bit," Lyssa asked.
"I saw the tattoo Lyssa. a tiger on his face," Katya answered.
Lyssa thought for a moment then said, "ok that's enough for me. I'll fly out in the morning."
"Thank you Lyssa, there was nobody to ask for help, only you," Katya sighed with relief.
"Get some rest Katya, I'll be there soon," Lyssa said then disconnected.
CHAPTER 2
Rodrick watched Lyssa pack, "Her understudy is having mafia problems? I don't get it, how does a high level ballerina get involved with Russian mafiosi?"
"Things are strange over there," Lyssa explained, "Mafia are everywhere. Maybe one got really smart and decided to fund a production to bring in some legitimate cash flow or rather sugardaddy an up and coming dancer. Unless she has or is connected to something they want."
She packed her pointe-shoes; black, pink, white and red then same color leotards, tights and practice skirts. Heels and boots went into the bag along with a few choice fall outfits and her makeup case and laptop.
"Still strange to me, It's not their thing. The only interest they show in girls are the kind they can market for sex,"Rodrick said.
"Normally you'd be right too baby, but things go from strange to bizarre over there faster than you can say 'what the fuck was that.' trust me," Lyssa commented.
Rodrick laughed then picked up the carry-on bag after she closed it. She smiled then glanced to the mirror; the black skirt and pink satin blouse looked fine for traveling as she stepped into a pair of black patent pumps then followed him out.
Rodrick accompanied her to the jetway.
She kissed him,"Call you when I get in."
"Sure you don't want me to come along,"He asked.
"I got this. You get the hard assignment; go talk to the good reverend about renting the church for the wedding," She chuckled.
Rodrick goosed her as she turned to board the plane. The two flight attendants chuckled as she passed them her ticket. They directed her to first class. Lyssa settled in and napped until Atlanta then again from New york to London where she had an hour layover for the Moscow flight.
It was early morning when she cleared customs. The officer that gave her cursory search had a daughter that trained for ballet and knew who she was.
"Welcome back Prima Lyssa," the officer smiled.
Lyssa replied in flawless Russian, "Thank you officer, I feel the chill of autumn already and I suspect the leaves are in their most brilliant colors."
The officer smiled as she passed Lyssa's passport back after stamping it.
"you must have a little girl that dances," Lyssa asked with a smile.
"Da, her favorites are Katya and you. Lyssa the Ghost Legend, she calls you. You came from nowhere and took the world by storm. only appearing when you are needed most," the Officer confirmed.
Lyssa smiled and told her that she would be found at the Bolshoi Academy then left to take a taxi to a house in a quiet neighborhood. She paid the fare and tipped well. She went inside the house and changed into dance-wear then drove her car to the Academy.
Katya walked in and took off her coat then her shoes and began to stretch and warm up. She then laced on her pointe-shoes to start practicing. She went through her basics then pointe-work after snapping a resin bead on the floor. Several dancers passed through calling their greetings to her when Ekaterina finally showed, with a bruise blooming on her cheek. Katya was about to speak when an old woman walked into the room and slammed the tip of her cane to the floor three times. Everyone stopped and focused their attention on the dance mistress.
"It has been a long time but an old pupil has returned to visit us," She announced in a very clear voice then slammed the floor thrice again.
Lyssa stepped out from the hallway and walked to the forward center of the floor then turned and curtsied to the dance mistress.
Lyssa held her curtsey and said ,"Thank you for that warm greeting Prima Olga."
"You are, as always, most welcome Lyssa. We are grateful to see you but I'm sure one is more enthusiastic than the rest," She remarked.
As if on that cue Katya ran forward and hugged her friend.
Many whispered in awe, "its Lyssa. The Ghost Legend is here."
Lyssa stepped forward, standing tall and proud, giving them all a commanding look. In unison all the dancers either bowed or curtsied to her.
"Since I've come to visit; show me what you can do," Lyssa said in a tone that was both soft and commanding.
The dance mistress slammed her cane twice. The dancers immediately took their positions and began. Lyssa stood motionless in a ready position watching them with a sharp gaze as they went through the routines.
Ekaterina was in the middle of the solo when Lyssa finally spoke.
"Stop," Lyssa called out.
Ekaterina knew Lyssa had seen her mistake. mentally she cursed herself.
"That was not a very convincing performance of Clara, ballerina," Lyssa said standing in front of her then circled around once.
Ekaterina suppressed a shiver. The way Lyssa addressed her as 'Ballerina' did not sound good.
She walked back to front center and stood in her previous pose, "Again; Ballerina."
Ekaterina noticed others shift uncomfortably, they had noticed the obvious too. Lyssa was becoming short-tempered with her for stupid mistakes.
Ekaterina started over and misstepped in a different spot.
"Stop. Enough if this train wreck," Lyssa called out again and walked to her, "I have no idea where your head is BALLERINA, but it is NOT on what you're doing."
Lyssa looked over to Katya, "Apparently she has mistaken your sweetness for being lax Katya, I see she needs.....personal attention, if she aspires to dance for christmas. You DO want to dance for christmas, Da?"
The rest had cringed when she had said 'personal attention', it didn't sound nice to them. In fact, even Katya almost looked away but caught herself.
"Da Prima Lyssa! I want to dance for christmas," Ekaterina answered quickly.
"Then what must happen to ensure that YOU do and not one of these OTHER fine dancers," Lyssa asked pointedly.
"I must work harder. No more mistakes Prima Lyssa," she answered without prompting.
"Perhaps it is an issue of discipline, your mind wandering, so I'll help you refocus your attention on dancing. You'll hold this position until I say otherwise. Just as Prima Katya and I learned about PROPER discipline," Lyssa stated.
She turned to address the group at large, "Playtime is OVER. Katya and I are your Primas. If YOU wish to take a place among us; you will need to impress us MUCH more than you think you have. Get started."
The dance mistress slammed her cane once calling Lyssa and Katya to the center front where they stood in a ready position and gave them all a firm look.
"Indeed our Lyssa has returned to us. Do as you know how Primas," Olga said firmly then left the room.
Everyone knew they were in for a very hard time now. Quickly they returned to first positions and began over again. It would not take long for them to start feeling correction by the two Primas.
Mikhail looked over at Nikoli, "so where are we with the distribution of the drugs?"
"The ectasy is selling well in the clubs," he answered.
"What about our ballerina friend how are her sales," Mikhail asked.
"No sales. She hasn't picked up any merchandise," Nikoli stated.
Mikhail looked at him silently for several moments then asked, "Why has she not? Her little sister is quite the little addict and if she will entice the others of the school then we will have a very exclusive clientele."
"Yes, but yesterday when I was telling her that she protested so I reminded her that its we that make the decisions not her," Nikoli said.
"How did you remind her Nikoli," he asked.
"Just a little attention getter," he said then amended when Mikhail gave him a fixed look, "a slap is all."
Mikhail slammed his fist to the desktop,"IDIOT! you slap a ballerina around! She's not some casual girl we turn out for whore! Hands off or I will handle her myself and find....other things for you to do."
Nikoli knew what that meant, working the desk at a low end brothel if he was lucky.
"I'll check my temper boss," Nikoli apologized.
Mikhail watched him for a minute then waved him to leave.
Nikoli checked his watch and saw it was almost time she would be finishing at the school and drove over to wait. Half an hour later he saw people leaving, some walking not so easily as they had been. Ekaterina gingerly walked out. Nikoli and his partner got out of the car and walked over to her.
He noted tears but hardened his expression and voice,"Katerina."
They both saw her wince as she stepped with her left foot.
"Looks like our little Kat has had a rough day, eh Dmitri," Nikoli chuckled.
"Please just go away I can not do this right now," she sniffed trying not to cry.
"She thinks to just leave forgetting business Nikoli," Dmitri smirked.
The big street enforcer grabbed her arm and pulled,chuckling malevolently. Ekaterina tried not to screech in pain from her sore feet.
"Please. Just let me go. I want to go home Nikoli," she begged as tears began to roll down her cheeks.
They both laughed at her protest. Dmitri didn't see the boot as it slammed into the side of his face. Nikoli spun to look but not fast enough as a follow through kick slammed into his face forcing him to the ground. He shook his head to clear the stars and looked up to see a tall blonde dressed in a black dance dress and pink tights with knee high black boots looking down at them both, a look of cold rage burned in her grey eyes.
"Before I start stomping the both of you into street-scum to be washed down the sewer; do you have any last words," Lyssa said in almost a whisper.
"Bitch! do you have any idea who we are," Dmitri spouted then bellowed in pain.
Lyssa had stomped down hard on his wrist, breaking it. Nikoli watched him tuck his arm close and try to roll away in an attempt to protect it. Lyssa stomped down on his knee to a rending crack as it snapped making him scream.
Ekaterina tried to slink away but turned to face Katya who slowly shook her head, slowly she turned back around and watched as Lyssa turned to the downed Nikoli. Lyssa snapped a swift kick into his groin making him curl up squealing.
"Are you the fool that bruised MY ballerina," she asked coldly.
When he didn't answer she fixed Ekaterina with a glare, "is he?"
Ekaterina looked down and nodded silently.
Lyssa dropped down with her knee across his throat and slammed four punches full force to his eyes blackening them.
"You will stay away from ballerinas or I will make you regret living," She stood up and walked over to Ekaterina and pointed at a sports car, "Get in, it appears you DO need personal attention."
CHAPTER 3
Madison walked into the office and sat down. It was saturday and hopefully the Major would be staying home. She booted up her computer and immediately went through the message traffic then pulled up the list of Lyssa's phone numbers. Her number for Moscow was active so she pinged Rodrick's satphone and saw he was in the Bahamas at his airfield. Odd they weren't together. Madison checked Lyssa's designation code and found no tasking. It was early morning in Washington but evening in Moscow so she called her.
"Da, Lyssa's phone," a girl with a heavy russian accent answered.
"hello. May i speak to Lyssa my name is Madison," she said.
The girl said something in Russian and Madison just barely heard Lyssa answer also in Russian.
She translated to Madison," Lyssa asked wait please. She is helping my understudy. We made her feet hurt today, I am Katya."
Madison replied warmly,"hello Katya. Lyssa told me about you, you both studied together at Bolshoi."
"Da. Lyssa is best friend but Ekaterina probably thinks not right now. We make her work hard today," Katya explained, "Lyssa is here."
Lyssa's voice came through,"Hey Madi what's up?"
"I snuck in to see if I needed to do anything before monday and saw you were in Moscow. Anything I need to know," she asked.
"no, I'm just helping Katya with her understudy," Lyssa explained.
Madison heard another voice in the background sounding very unhappy and Katya saying something in answer. Lyssa said something as well and it didn't sound as nice as Katya.
Madison asked," Are you two playing Good Prima/Bad Prima?"
Lyssa laughed at that,"Nice one Madison and you're not far from the truth."
Madison signed off chuckling, that poor girl will never be the same after being on the receiving end of Lyssa's toughlove approach to training. Nothing else grabbed her attention so she shut down and collected her purse and jacket then left.
Lyssa filled an empty coke bottle with hot water and came back.
"Roll this back and forth with your foot until its not hot anymore," she instructed the whimpering Ekaterina.
The young dancer did as she was told when Katya nodded her approval. Slowly she rolled the bottle back and forth on the floor with her sore foot. Lyssa brought back another for her other foot. Soon the pain began to ease and Lyssa emptied them and refilled with ice water. Ekaterina felt more relief rolling the bottles back and forth then stood to walk around at Katya's order.
"They've never hurt so bad Prima Lyssa, I will not be able to dance tomorrow," she gave her a panicked look.
"You can and you will, ballerina; because you must,"Lyssa stated as if there were no such thing as pain.
"You must listen to Lyssa. Obey her Ekaterina and you will never fail," Katya said gently,"you will never fail because Prima Lyssa will never let you fail."
"Prima Lyssa; the Ghost Legend," Ekaterina whispered to Katya.
"She is that for so many reasons, and always she is my idol," Katya said back, "For Lyssa there is nothing too much she could ask of me."
"I will try hard Prima Katya," Ekaterina sniffled.
"Good. You will begin with why those two dared to handle our ballerina," Lyssa said flatly.
Ekaterina looked down at the floor.
"She is a Prima. You must tell her," Katya urged her.
Ekaterina looked from Katya's gentle blue eyes to Lyssa's steel grey ones.
the dancer slowly said, "My little sister. She found a club that would let her in. Someone gave her pills. She liked them. She won't stop taking them, I have no more money. Our parents have no more money. The men want me to to sell the pills to dancers. I haven't done it Prima Lyssa! They slapped me and now they are angry because you hurt them."
"Name for me this worm," Lyssa said coldly.
"Mikhail Gretnekova, please Prima Lyssa, he is bad. Dangerous, stay away from him," Ekaterina pleaded.
Lyssa nodded for Katya to follow her back to the study.
Once inside she asked, "You know anything about this guy?"
"I have heard a little. He is a drug person, girls for sale too," Katya said.
"Where do I find him," Lyssa asked.
Katya thought for a moment, "I don't know but we both know somebody who would, Peter Iylovich. remember him?"
"Ah yes. Our favorite guy for all things," Lyssa smirked then dug a small book out of her desk and flipped through it until she found the page she wanted and dialed the number from it.
"hello Peter," a female voice said, "It's Lyssa."
"Ah, lovely Lyssa. I hear you are engaged now; or are you looking to sell that fabulous ring I saw in the photos," he chuckled.
"I'd like a private meeting in please Peter," Lyssa said.
"Not a problem, new club just open......" Peter offered.
"Private meeting Peter. Just you and me,"Lyssa cut him off.
Peter got serious quickly, "Da. you want private, you get private. Meet me at Lenin's tomb in an hour."
The fixer frowned to himself. Lyssa Kordenay was back in town and was being quiet about it. The American Prima made Peter nervous; even more so if her arrival wasn't in the papers or on television. He tried to remember if he'd done anything to her the last time she was in town.
Lyssa disconnected and went to the bedroom and changed into black leggings, a dark purple blouse and her boots; slipping the Marauder into her right boot and one of her Jerichos into a holster clipped to the back of a wide belt then shrugged into a long black coat.
As she walked back through she said to Katya, "get her fed and into a bath Katya. Then she can go to sleep."
"Da Lyssa, be careful. I'm sure Peter has not changed recently," she called back.
"I got it covered," Lyssa replied closing the door.
Peter stood blowing cigarette smoke rings for several minutes just inside Gorky Park when a voice as cool as the air spoke behind him.
"Still have those bad habits Peter," Lyssa asked rhetorically.
"Still playing in shadows Lyssa," he countered then slowly turned around.
Though he stood outside the circle of light from a streetlamp Lyssa had again bested him and stepped from the deeper shadows.
The Russian fixer walked close and leaned back against a tree, "so what do you want Lyssa? you've never asked for a meeting this private before," he stated.
"Mikhail Gretnekova," she said flatly.
"oh my. You've not picked up a habit of your own have you," he asked with a smirk.
It faded immediately when the moon shone through to reveal her stoney expression.
"He has made you angry; nyet," Peter asked, already knowing the answer.
She nodded slowly, making the Russian's blood freeze. Her anger was nothing to be taken lightly.
Peter thought for a moment then said, "Mikhail hangs out at Silk Kittens but he lives in a house just East of Gorky Park. He always has at least a couple of men with him until he goes to bed if he has a girl with him. He always has a girl with him, you can use your imagination about that. Three dogs are outside the house. Trained to kill but can not bark and he has the best security system on the market six months ago. what else?"
Lyssa reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a roll of bills and held them out to him.
Taking the money Peter asked, "Why do I get the feeling that if I mention this meeting to anybody I will not see the sunrise?"
Lyssa stepped back into the shadow, "You'd see it Peter. One last time."
Normally he'd chuckle at a comment like that from someone,but this was Lyssa. He'd even heard after her call that one of Mikhail's men had been taken to a hospital and wouldn't say how his arm and knee had been broken. Word on the street was that it had happened outisde Bolshoi.
Peter knew Dmitri was a serious fighter in the Sambo circles and had almost made it into Spetnatz but failed the mental tests. He enjoyed beating people and he didn't care who. Peter had seen Lyssa fight before. Quick and vicious, she took on men three times her size and had them screaming in less than a minute.
He didn't bother trying to see if she was still lurking, the breeze had shifted and he didn't smell her perfume anymore. A quick look at the roll and he was impressed with the money. Besides, he didn't like Gretnekova anyway.
Assholes like that came and went. People like Lyssa would always be around and it was best to best their good side; especially her. For some reason the night always seemed darker and colder when she was around.
CHAPTER 4
Mikhail locked the door and gave the girl standing in front of the bed a malevolent look that made her back up then fall back onto the bed. He slapped her back onto the bed then demanded she strip.
"Slow and sexy," he added with a harsh chuckle.
The girl stood up and started taking her clothes off as he said. She had just taken off her bra and was starting to push down her panties when he barely heard a soft click behind him.
"I did not call for anyone,"He snarled over his shoulder.
Something hard, cold and rounded pressed to the back of his head and he heard a loud click. The girl stopped and crossed her arms over her chest.
A cold sweet voice hissed from the shadow behind him, "How old are you girl?"
"Fifteen. Please don't hurt me. I promise I don't see you," she stammered fearfully.
"Leave. If you go straight home and never talk about being here I won't come after you child," the voice said.
The girl didn't answer; she just grabbed her clothes and ran from the room.
Mikhail sat very still as the shadow came around to stand infront of him in the dim light. A woman in black with streaks across her face stood aiming a pistol at his face.
He sneered at her, "go ahead, take my money or anything else in here. You won't make it out."
"Mikhail, tsk tsk. You really need to get with the program here. There is no one alive in the house that could try to stop me. Do you know who I am," she asked icily.
"You must be the ballerina. The one that took down Dmitri," he answered.
Lyssa nodded confirming it, "Yes. They call me the Ghost Legend. I am Lyssa."
They faced each other in silence for several moments until Mikhail said, "I'll be sure to remember you."
She thumbed back the hammer and said in a clear voice, "Past the gates and before the throne; I've been to Hell Mikhail. Where I send you; much worse."
The silenced autopistol coughed once, the bullet tore through his groin then two more trigger strokes sent more silenced rounds into his torso just inside his ribs. The blood that soaked out was almost black. Both bullets had ripped through his liver and lungs. Mikhail struggled to breathe then couldn't as his eyes swam in and out of focus.
Lyssa drew the Marauder and didn't wait for his eyes to glaze over. She set straight to work digging the modified hollowpoint bullets from his body as he shook violently trying to draw enough breath to scream. Lyssa lit a cigarette from his pack, tucked it into a book of matches and set it on the bed. She poured the high proof vodka down the corner of the bed and over to the wall then down the hallway and stairs. Silently as she had come, she walked out.
Katya looked to the door as Lyssa walked in, "I have been so worried, where have you been?"
"Out," Lyssa replied then walked straight over to the fireplace, tossed something into it and watched it burn.
"You have solved Ekaterina's problem haven't you," she asked as Lyssa hung up the coat then poured a glass of wine.
"She won't be bothered anymore Katya. Its late, go get some sleep," Lyssa said looking out the window as the first of snow began to fall.
"Lyssa, this is one of those things I'm not supposed to ask you about isn't it," Katya whispered.
When she didn't answer Katya said, "sometimes I am afraid and feel guilty. Guilty that you will go out to help us and afraid you will not come back. I heard what happened in London. A girl so afraid; she will not leave her house and another that will never walk, much less dance again. When I heard your name I was so frightened, but I saw you and was happy. I worry that someone's favor will be too much for you."
Lyssa sipped the wine then finally spoke, "you are the little sister I never had Katya. I will always come for you. You can worry less, Rodrick will always come for me. He was there when I needed him most. And as for the favors I do; one day we'll talk about that."
Katya hugged her.
"Go see to Katerina and get some sleep yourself. Tomorrow will be here soon," Lyssa said gently.
Katya nodded then walked quietly to check on her then into the other spare bedroom. Shortly after, she heard water running in Lyssa's bathroom but went to sleep.
Ekaterina finished her routines without any missteps. She had been working hard the past three days under Lyssa's unrelenting eyes with her right beside her dancing the part to ensure she understood it could be done.
The loud slamming of the dance mistress's cane three times caught her attention, she hurried to stand back and to the left of Lyssa in the same ready position.
"Well Prima Lyssa, is she ready to dance with the others now," the old woman asked sharply.
"Da Prima Olga! She has worked very hard to rejoin the cast; if she continues then she will be ready for christmas to perform as Clara," Lyssa answered.
The old woman nodded and Lyssa curtsied to her then moved to the side of the room and stood in the same ready position. Olga rapped her cane once to the floor. Ekaterina took that as a cue to begin and started her routines.
When she finally curtsied then rose to stand in the ready position.
After a few moments Olga looked to Lyssa and said, "another soon to be in your image. You are to be proud Prima Lyssa."
Lyssa stepped quickly over to stand beside Ekaterina and curtsied, "I have high hopes for this young one Prima Olga. I know she will not fail us."
Ekaterina tried hard not to show the smile at Lyssa's praise. First one then the rest of the cast began clapping for her at the doorway. Katya walked quickly over and curtsied to the dance mistress then to Lyssa and finally smiled to Ekaterina.
Katya firmly stated, "I know you will be stunning and flawless."
One of the young men led her back into the main studio to resume with them.
Three hours later they were released for the day. Ekaterina looked around then went to the changing room and glanced into the dance mistress' office then back into the main studio.
"Lyssa has gone ballerina,"Olga said.
She looked puzzled, "gone? But I have more rehearsals to do. She didn't say goodbye."
"Lyssa's task is complete,"Olga explained, "just as with she did with Katya and Marissa; Lyssa has shown you what could be done so that you would learn to believe in yourself. A dancer in trouble saved; you now owe her favor. Nyet?"
Ekaterina thought about it for a moment then nodded, "Da Prima Olga, I understand now. Yes, you are right, I have a debt. Anything Prima Lyssa asks will be hers."
The old dance mistress rapped her cane once, then turned back to her office.
Ekaterina knew she was dismissed and changed into her boots and left for home.
"Prima Lyssa. The Ghost Legend. I will never fail; because she will not LET me," Ekaterina said then smiled.
The young dancer now knew she was part of an elite sorority. Not only schooled by the imposing Prima, but also in her favor. Lyssa's favors; they too, were part of her legend.
Rodrick heard the front door open and checked his phone, no messages.
The sound of high heels in Lyssa's usual walking style made him smile as he turned on the lamp.
"Coulda called darlin'. I would've picked you up," He said as she walked into the bedroom.
"Its fine baby, go back to sleep. I'm going to rinse off real quick and join you,"Lyssa replied.
Rodrick sat up and waited while she did that then welcomed her into their bed when she walked out and slid in beside him. He switched off the light and held her close.
"Tell me you talked to that reverend about the church," Lyssa mumbled.
Rodrick chuckled,"Go to sleep my beautiful ballerina. we'll talk in the morning."
Lyssa playfully nipped his shoulder getting an 'ouch' from him and a quick swat on her butt then settled in and after a few minutes fell asleep.
Comments
Loved it
Now I am dying for the wedding
and hoping that nothing goes wrong
I love the story
Keep up the good work
hope to read more soon
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The incomparable Lyssa does
The incomparable Lyssa does it again. But what happened to Ekaterina's sister?
Once again
Once again Snowfall has delivered a superb story. I downloaded this story while waiting to caught my next flight and read it along with the others while crossing the Pacific. All I can say is. When do we get to see the wedding?!
May the peace and happiness of the Goddess keep and protect you
as always your humble outlaw
Jessie Wolf
Believe it or not
I consulted with a specialist on this one before posting. A valkyrie that I'm proud to call friend. I thank you for your expertise and your great humor. *salutes and hugs*
quidquid sum ego, et omnia mea semper; Ego me.
alecia Snowfall
crash boom bang
Lyssa in action again can't get enough
Another nice Lyssa story...
one point of critique: Gretnekova the ...ova exit of the name indicates a female of the family. I cannot imagine a gangster wanting t have such a name. It would think it should be Grenekov without the 'a'.
Hugs.
Anne Margarete
meh
I don't think he'll mind now....*evil giggle*
quidquid sum ego, et omnia mea semper; Ego me.
alecia Snowfall
As always
..a good story with Lyssa at her 'clinical' best. As usual, I look forward to reading more.
Joanna
Hubris
We write these violent, vengeful tales, I am working on one myself. One day when I use my pistol on someone, will I stop with one shot or will I empty it? Will I have the courage to face danger with bravery? Will the helplessness of my youth be forgiven? Why did I not kill him when I had the chance? In our ignorance we trust but not after it is violated.
As the t-shirt and bumper state...
As the t-shirt and bumper sticker state,
.45 ACP
Because shooting
Twice is just silly
:-) :-) :-) :-)
.45 ACP
My weapon of choice, and what I carried in the Army. Though, right now I have a .38 SPCL and am a little afraid it is not big enough. Gun experts?
Gwen
Risking a very risqué response...
It's not the size of the tool … it's how you use it that counts. :)
However the very best personal security approach is:
a. Don't be where there is trouble.
b. If there is trouble leave immediately.
c. Do not pass go, do not collect personal belongings.
Persephone
Non sum qualis eram
Very good chapter...
...but is it trope, lack of research or just plain lack of respect that almost every story with Russians has badly spelled impossible Russian names?
Was it impossible to browse map of Moscow for 10 minutes to find some believable locations?
Lenin tomb is located in the Red square. To get from there to Gorky Park you need to walk about 5 km and by car it is almost 6 km. Nearest to the Gorky Park place where you can have enough or the area around a house to have killer dogs there - is about 20 km to the southwest. Or 30 km east. Or about 25 km west...
Tatoo is not very common for Russian mafia. If mafiozo spent some time in jail he can have rank markings tattooed on his hands, arms or chest.
But if you imagine some parallel reality Moscow where Lenin was buried in the Gorky Park and there is no armed honorary guard by the mausoleum, and less than dozen kgb agents nearby, then story is good :-)
Thanks for the slam
I could've posted the original plotline but after input from another writer I went with a changes to add more to it. I'll admit I've never been to Moscow so I went with information on local goings on from someone who has. I prefer to use places that don't exist(buildings, streets, etc.) When you use actual places people tend to get up in arms such as "no you have it on the wrong side of the street, the demographic is opposite (a run down neighborhood became gentrified), you have a museum in an industrial area, that's a church not a brothel/drug den." Other things crop up too: you have that street gang's chosen color wrong, They have a tattoo on the other arm, they use a brass knuckle type not a knife. How many people know that the Hell's Angels have a preferred weapon and it isn't a gun or a knife? Its not really common knowledge (ball-peen hammer if you really want to know). Or things like organizations disbanding; no more KGB, the FSB are the top dogs in Russia now. Little things like that trip up a writer, especially if they aren't local to the area they have in their story. I will get things wrong from time to time, it happens and I do apologize to any who do live in that locale as I have no intention of insulting your home(whether you really love it or not). I'd prefer not to use current elements that are easy to vilify such as Al Queda, ISIS, the Medellín cartel of Columbia(yes there are still elements of that around). I use fictional bad guys and 98% of the time I use fictional cartels/terrorist groups. Sometimes I get a name wrong, that's ok because they won't be around to care after Lyssa gets done*evil giggle*. If by chance I do get something wrong using your home city in a story and you're offended PM me and I'll PM back an apology. Since it was brought up in comments I'll go ahead and do so now.
To the proud people of Moscow; I do apologize for discrepancies in my fictional story set in your city. I intended only to add some local flavor to the tale, not disrespect any of your national landmarks or iconic city points.
Для гордых людей Москвы; Я прошу прощения за расхождений в моей вымышленной истории, установленных в вашем городе. Я предназначен только добавить местный колорит в сказке, не неуважение любой из ваших национальных памятников или знаковых пунктов города.
Ya'll have a great day.
quidquid sum ego, et omnia mea semper; Ego me.
alecia Snowfall
I told previously that plotline is good.
And story is good.
It is just that owerwhelming number of authors can invent believable Korean or Chinese name while using random sets of letters for Russian names :-)
Rest is by Pm ;-)