Hi and thanks for the reviews!
I forgot to add a disclaimer to Chapter 1, so here it is: Any publically recognizable character is the property of Fox. All others are the product of my imagination.
Now on with the story…
Chapter 2: The Conspiracy
It wasn't necessarily easy, but by the end of the first week, the Buchanans settled into to a regular routine. Mornings were hectic as Bill, Karen, Elise and their two new charges vied for bathroom time while getting ready for work and school. The first morning was the worst, but they quickly adjusted schedules and soon mornings were running more smoothly. As always, Bill took Elise to school on his way to work. Karen picked up the added responsibility of taking Anya and Nikolai to the Russian school before her work day started. The end of the day was much calmer. Elise got home first and got dinner started. Bill came home next and put on the finishing touches. Finally, Karen would arrive with Anya and Nikolai. Once everyone was home they ate dinner together, reviewed homework and got ready for bed.
Nikolai and Anya seemed to fall into the routine easily. Anya followed Elise around like an adored big sister, a role that Elise enjoyed even if she felt the need to complain about her new companion at times. Karen smiled every time she saw Elise reading to Anya knowing that she loved being the big sister and that her complaints were more about being a teenager than being annoyed by a little girl. Before bedtime Elise read stories to Anya taking care to point to every picture on the page and giving Anya the English word for it. Anya repeated each word dutifully. She was picking the language up slowly while Nikolai was excelling at it.
Nikolai, who had been wary of the situation and his new foster parents in the beginning, began to bond with Bill. The little boy loved chess which had been a popular diversion for the children at the orphanage. Bill, who could never seem to get Elise interested in the game, was happy to have such an eager opponent. Bill also found himself frequently in the back yard kicking a soccer ball or playing catch with a baseball. Despite his own early reservations, Bill was finding their temporary experiment in parenthood more fun than he would have expected. There were moments that he missed the relative quiet that was his home prior to the children's arrival, but as he kissed them good night every evening, he was happy with the way things had turned out.
"Bill, I'm running late," Karen called down the stairs one morning. "Can you make sure that Nicky and Annie get breakfast before you take Elise to school?"
"I'll take care of it," he returned as he checked his watch noting that he didn't have much extra time this morning either.
"Thanks. I'll be down as soon as I can," Karen called as she ran back into the bedroom to get dressed.
"Okay, you two," Bill said as he lifted Anya up onto the stool by the breakfast bar. "What do you want for breakfast?"
It didn't take him long to get the two children set up with glasses of milk and toasted English muffins covered in strawberry jam. By the time the muffins were out of the toaster, Elise had run into the kitchen with her backpack slung over one shoulder.
"Dad, we're going to be late. I have a student government meeting before school this morning. Did you forget?"
"No, I didn't forget. I've been ready for fifteen minutes. I was helping Nik and Annie with breakfast while you were still upstairs getting dressed. Have you eaten any breakfast?" Bill asked in his most fatherly tone.
Elise grabbed a banana from the counter. "I'll eat it on the way to school," the fifteen year old said with a roll of her eyes. "Come on! I'm going to be late." She crossed the kitchen and planted a quick kiss on the tops of Anya's and Nikolai's heads. "Have a good day at school, guys. See you when you get home." Then leaning from the kitchen toward the stairs she called to Karen. "Bye, Mom. See you tonight."
Karen was in the process of running down the stairs. "Did you eat any breakfast?" she asked as she slipped a pearl earring into her pierced earlobe.
"You two really do communicate on some weird level, don't you?" Elise asked as she kissed Karen's cheek. "I love you. I'll see you when I get home."
Bill and Karen smiled at each other and kissed goodbye. Karen held the door while Bill and Elise left the house and got into Bill's SUV. She continued to watch for a moment as he backed out of the driveway and drove down the quiet street. Then, closing the door, she returned to the kitchen.
Nikolai and Anya were just finishing their breakfast. Karen marveled once again at how the two had adapted to their new life. Just adapting to life in the same house as an American teenager was an accomplishment, but they had done it while learning the language and missing their friends from the orphanage in Russia and getting into the routine of their new school. She hated the thought that they would have to adapt once again to a new foster family when one was found. That reminded Karen, she needed to call Father Gregory to see how the search for an acceptable foster family was going. There were no interested couples in his church, so he was in discussion with several other Russian Orthodox churches in and around LA to find a good home for the children. Karen balked at first when the priest suggested that the children might have to be moved as far away as San Francisco. She wanted to be able to see them regularly, but she also understood that it was important for them to live in a Russian speaking home. Their basic English was improving but it would be a while before they really started speaking the language well and that led to some frustration on both the part of the children and on Karen's part.
"Okay," Karen said surveying the empty plates in front of the children. "Go wash your hands," she said spying jam on Anya's fingers. "And get your backpacks. It's time for school."
"Okay, Mom," Anya answered. Although Nikolai called Bill and Karen by their first names, Anya followed Elise's lead and called them Mom and Dad.
They ran to the bathroom to wash their hands and then to their rooms for backpacks. Within minutes they came back to the kitchen.
"Ready?" Karen asked rhetorically as she pulled on her suit jacket and picked up her bag.
The three headed out the door. Karen secured and locked it as the children went to the car. Karen unlocked the doors of the Lexus sedan with the remote control and watched as Nikolai climbed across the back seat and began to buckle himself in. Anya still required some help. Too small to sit on the seat itself, she required a booster seat. Once in it, Karen helped her with the seatbelt and pulled it snug.
"Now we're ready to roll," Karen told the youngsters as she closed the car door and started to walk around the rear of the car to the driver's side.
"I don't think so Ms. Hayes," said a male voice from behind her.
It was then that she felt it. The unmistakable feel of a gun barrel pressed into her back. She had felt it only once before and would never forget it. She had been a young FBI agent and due to her own poor planning, had been taken by surprise by the suspect she was trying to apprehend. The agility of youth and her good training saved her. She was able to surprise her assailant by turning quickly, forcing him to the ground and firing the weapon that she was holding. Almost thirty years later, she was at a distinct disadvantage having not practiced any hand-to-hand combat in years. Worse yet, she wasn't armed.
She put her hands on the side of the car in a gesture of defeat. "Please don't hurt the children," she said softly. "Tell me what you want."
"The children are in no danger, Ms. Hayes," the man told her. Karen instantly recognized his accent as Russian. "I have every intention of protecting them and keeping them safe. You are another story. Your life means nothing to me. I prefer not to kill you just because that creates other problems. If you behave yourself and do as you're told, I'll make sure that you get home to your husband. It may not be for a few days, but you'll get back to him."
The man paused for a moment. Karen took a quick look around the neighborhood hoping to find a way out or to attract the attention of a neighbor. The secluded street was great for privacy. The houses were set back away from the road and most had trees in the front lawn thus obscuring the view from the house to the street. She continued to scan the street and took note of a dark sedan idling at the top of the street.
The man with the gun must have sensed that Karen was looking for a means of escape. "Don't bother, Ms. Hayes. If you think you can disarm me and get away, you're wrong. One of the men in the car has a sniper's rifle aimed at your chest. I told you, I don't want to kill you, but I will if I have to. He, on the other hand, would prefer to kill you. He feels that keeping you alive is making this operation unnecessarily complicated. So any wrong move, and he will pull the trigger. Now, slowly walk around the car and get into the driver's side."
With no other option, Karen rounded the car slowly.
"That's far enough," the man said as she reached for the door handle. "Give me the keys."
"They're in my bag," Karen said angling her head toward her left shoulder where the bag hung.
The man pulled the bag from her shoulder and found the keys. "Thank you," he said in mock politeness. "Now get in the car and close the door."
Again, Karen saw no way out and did as she was told.
Nikolai knew that something was amiss. "Karen, who is that man?" he asked.
"It's going to be alright, Nicky. Just stay quiet. You, too, Annie. Stay quiet, honey." Karen tried to sound confident, but she could hear her voice waver. She wondered if the children heard it as well. She watched as the man walked around the front end of the car and headed for the passenger side. While he walked, he again rummaged through her bag. This time he pulled out her cell phone.
The Russian man got into the passenger seat, reviewed the contact list in the phone and chose a number. He handed Karen the cell phone. "You're calling the school. Tell them that the children are ill and won't be coming to school today. Say anything else and I won't hesitate to shoot." He held the gun low so that the children couldn't see it but Karen knew that it was aimed at her chest.
Karen made the call and the man took the phone from her hand. "Very good. You follow directions well." He dialed another number and handed the phone back to her. "This will be your office. Tell them that you won't be in today. If they need an explanation, tell them that the children are sick. If I hear you saw anything that sounds even vaguely like a duress code, I'll shoot you."
With the second call made, the man took the phone back and turned it off. He then handed Karen the keys. "Start the engine and back out of the driveway."
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"You'll find out when we get there," the man answered cryptically. He turned to Nikolai and Anya in the back seat. "Hello, my friends," he said in English. "You're not going to school today. We're going to take a little trip."
"We need to go to school to learn English," Nikolai said sharply.
Karen internally groaned at the defiance that she heard in the child's voice. He was strong willed and she hoped that the quality didn't work against him in this situation. Before she could say anything to quiet him, the Russian man spoke again.
"Where we're going you won't need to speak English." He then began speaking in Russian. Anya, who was not nearly so proficient in English, began chatting happily in her native language.
Karen assumed that this was all part of whatever plan the man had. He would quickly win Anya over and Nikolai would eventually follow. Now if she could just figure out what the end game was.
"Make a left at the next light, Ms. Hayes," the man said casually as if they were out for a sightseeing tour.
Karen glanced up into the rearview mirror. The black sedan was following a short distance behind. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. The only way to get out of this was to stay calm and think it through. The problem here was that she not only needed to save herself, she needed to save the children as well. That eliminated a lot of possible plans. Instead she decided that it was time to talk to the Russian man. If she could get more information on what he wanted and why he wanted Anya and Nikolai, she would have a better chance to talk him out of it or at least distract him.
"I'm not sure what it is that you want, but if you'll tell me, maybe we can work something out," Karen started tentatively.
"It's very simple, Ms. Hayes. I want the children," he answered quietly.
"For what? What can you possibly want them for that justifies kidnapping?"
"They need to go back to Russia to grow up and live in their own culture, to be nurtured by fellow Russians. The Russian people need them."
Karen suddenly thought she knew what this was about. There had been a lot of controversy over the last few years regarding the adoption of Russian babies and children by Americans and other Westerners. Many Russians saw it as a slap in the face that they could not take care of their own needy children and those children were being farmed out to other countries. She suspected that the group who bombed the church was trying to disrupt the foreign adoptions and was now trying to take Anya and Nikolai back to Russia was part of this movement.
"Anya is five and Nikolai is eight. They're alone in the world and were living in an orphanage until a few weeks ago. If Russia needed them so badly, then a Russian couple should have stepped forward and adopted them along with all of the other children in that orphanage. Tell me, are you making sure that those children are being taken care of?"
"I care nothing for the other children in that orphanage. I care only for these two children. They will restore Russia to her former greatness," the man declared proudly. "They are the saviors of my country."
Karen once again found herself confused. Now she had no idea what the man was talking about. "They're children," she said again. "Why do you believe that they can save Russia?"
"They are the closest surviving relatives of Tsar Nicholas II. They are Romanovs."
Karen rolled her eyes now believing that the man was crazy. "You can't be serious. There are dozens of people in Russia who claim to be relatives of the Tsar. Why would you believe that Nikolai and Anya have any more right to the throne than any of the others?"
"DNA will trace Nikolai and Anya back to the Tsar himself. When the Tsar was just a teenager, he had an affair with one of the servant girls in the palace and she became pregnant. Of course it was a scandal and the girl was shipped off to the summer palace where she could have the child in relative secrecy. She was married off to one of the guards and they raised the child, a son that she named Alexander after Tsar Nicholas' father, as their own. Nikolai and Anya are the great-great grandchildren of Alexander."
"This is absurd," Karen said shaking her head in disbelief. "And what kind of proof do you have?"
"In addition to DNA, we have the birth certificates from Alexander and his children and grandchildren all the way down to Nikolai and Anya. And, we have the diary of the servant girl detailing the affair, the birth of her son and the money paid to her to ensure her silence."
Karen wasn't sure how to proceed. Now that she understood the man's logic, if you could call it that, for kidnapping Nikolai and Anya, she had to find a way to make him change his mind. She decided that showing empathy for his cause made the most sense.
"Okay, I understand now why you want Nikolai and Anya back in Russia. I can understand why the Royalists would want to rally around them. They embody the history of the Russian people, but still, I don't see how they can help you. There is no longer royalty in Russian. Tsars haven't ruled Russia in 90 years."
"But they will again. The Russian people are tired of their elected leaders. The Tsar will rise again. The Royalists will rally around Nikolai and Anya."
"I know that there is a small Royalist movement in Russia, but certainly not one capable of staging a coup and ousting the current government," Karen said trying to reason with him.
"It will happen. Over the next ten years, while Nikolai grows up and we prepare him to take over the reign, we will bring our case to the Russian people. It will be a slow process, but since our group has already waited for 90 years, another 10 years is nothing. We will show our people why we must return our royalty to their former position. That was a position granted by God and no man had the right to take it away from them. We will succeed. You will see." The man spoke passionately. He was clearly a fanatic but at the same time, he wasn't letting the emotion of the carry him away. He spoke clearly and succinctly without ranting.
Karen continued. "If you've known of Nikolai's and Anya's connection to the Romanovs, why did you wait so long to act?" Karen asked. "You've obviously researched this well. Why didn't you approach the children's parents prior to their deaths?"
"We tried, but the Borodins were fools. They knew of the family history and they chose to ignore it! Can you imagine? They knew their importance to the Russian people and yet they did nothing about it. Our group went to them several years ago and tried to talk some sense into them and they wouldn't hear it. We implored them to give their children the legacy that they deserved. We went to them again and again but they would not even let us in their door. Finally, we did what we had to in order to restore the monarchy."
Karen gasped. "You killed them! You staged the car accident so that you could get access to the children!"
"Sometimes blood must be spilled in order to evoke change," he said quietly. "I regret that the Borodins had to die. And I will regret killing you if it comes to that, but make no mistake, I am not afraid to kill you if I have to."
Karen was becoming more and more nervous now that she knew what this man was capable of. He spoke and interrupted her thoughts. "After the next traffic light, make a right into the third alley," he told her. "Once you're in the alley, pull over to the right next to the second building." They had driven into an industrial part of the city that Karen wasn't familiar with.
The Russian man pulled out a cell phone. "We're several blocks away. Do you have the car ready?" He listened for a moment and frowned. "You were supposed to meet us at ten o'clock. Get here as soon as possible. We can't wait long."
"Something wrong?" Karen asked.
"Nothing we can't handle. Just do as I told you. The traffic light is two blocks from here. After that, make a right into the third alley."
Karen looked back to judge the distance from the dark sedan tailing her. The space had widened and another car had slipped in between them. She looked up at the traffic light less than a block ahead of her. It had just turned yellow. She started to slow just as an idea crossed her mind. It was dangerous had probably had little chance of succeeding, but it was worth a try. Karen moved her foot from the brake to the accelerator and floored it entering the intersection just after the light turned red. Cars at the busy intersection screeched to a halt, but she avoided an accident and was now free of the car trailing her. The intersection was a major one and she hoped that the light would remain red for at least a couple of minutes.
"What are you doing?" the Russian man howled. "You could have killed us all."
"I'm sorry. I didn't see it. I'm nervous," Karen lied as she slowed down. She looked into her rearview mirror to make sure that the light was still red. Without indicating, she turned into the second alley instead of the third.
"This is the wrong alley!" the man screamed at her.
"I'm sorry. I'm nervous," Karen repeated. "I'll turn around." Karen eyed up the narrow alley and hoped this would work. "Hang on, kids," she said with a quick look to the back seat.
With that Karen jerked the wheel to the right and increased her speed. The passenger side of the car skidded against the rear wall of the warehouse on the right. The side airbags deployed on impact and Karen prayed that Anya, who was sitting on the passenger side, wouldn't be injured by them. Karen braced herself as the Russian man, who had not been belted in, was thrown across the front seat and into her. He seemed dazed but she was sure he wasn't badly hurt. Karen turned her attention to rescuing the children. They were both crying and Karen hoped fervently that they were just shaken up but unhurt. She released her seat belt with her right hand and while disengaging the automatic locks with her left and then jumped from the car.
As soon as she was out, she slammed the door behind her to slow the Russian man's attempt to follow her. His door was trapped against the warehouse wall, so his only way out was through the driver's side door. Karen pulled open the rear door and released Nikolai's seatbelt. She pulled him from the car and set him on the pavement. "Run, Nicky!" she shouted. "Run! Annie and I will be right behind you.
With that she reached across the back seat to extract the hysterical little girl from her booster seat. The child jumped without hesitation into Karen's arms. Karen could feel tears in her own eyes and she dragged the little girl across the seat and out of the car. "It's okay, baby," she whispered to try and calm the child. "I've got you. We'll be okay."
Anya wrapped both arms and legs around Karen obviously terrified. Karen knew that she couldn't run effectively with Anya virtually attached to her. She took a second to pry her off and set her down. "We have to run, honey," Karen told her while internally cursing herself for wearing high heels. "We have to run!"
Anya understood and began to run toward her brother. Karen ran alongside her and began looking for a hiding place. She knew that it would only be seconds before the Russian man was able to extract himself from the car and come after them. And soon after that, the car that had been tailing them would arrive. The thought had barely crossed her mind when she heard the footsteps from behind. Karen didn't look back but could hear that they were slow and irregular, as if the Russian man was injured and limping.
"Run faster!" she shouted to the children. She grabbed Anya's hand and increased their speed until she was nearly dragging the crying girl.
They were nearing the end of the long alley and Karen hoped desperately that they could get some help once they reached the street. At least she could attract some attention by calling for help. Her hopes were almost immediately dashed as the black sedan that had been following them turned into the alley effectively blocking their egress. Karen reached for both Nikolai and Anya and pulled them protectively into her arms. The action was natural, if only symbolic. Even with her mind racing, she knew that there was no way for her to protect the children now. She had failed and her heart ached.
Three armed men jumped from the car. The two that came from the backseat lowered their weapons and approached quickly. Each of them grabbed one of the children as the injured Russian man from Karen's car came up from behind and grabbed Karen. Karen tried to hang on to the children but the man holding her pulled her backwards and threw her to the ground.
It all seemed to be happening in slow motion and Karen felt as if she were watching it on a movie screen. She could hear herself begging the men to let go of Nikolai and Anya. The children were both fighting to get away; flailing and kicking in a futile attempt to extricate themselves. They were calling her name and imploring her to help them. She was trying to get away from her captor; trying to stand up and get to the children when she felt it. It was a searing pain in her chest that seemed to take all of the air out of her. It was followed by a second and this time she heard the gunshot.
The slow motion scene got even slower. Karen could hear that the children were crying harder; screaming her name incessantly. She saw the Russian man step over her, limp to the sedan and get in. The car began to move and Karen, no longer thinking logically, knew that her window of opportunity was closing fast. She dragged herself to her hands and knees and stood unsteadily. Barely able to breathe, she lunged at the moving car.
Karen hit the passenger side front fender of the car and was thrown across the hood. She was still conscious as she rolled off the other side and was thrown against the wall of the warehouse. The sedan skidded away as Karen crumpled to the alley fading into unconsciousness.