Line of Duty
By
Difoyksveyotsgod
See legal notice chapter 1
Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews, it's incredibly satisfying to know that your work isn't appreciated by not just others, but other authors. Thank you for the notes about character development as well, that was never my strong suit when it comes to fanfiction involving characters that I didn't create. I tried to work with it more in this chapter. This one is pretty friendly as well.
Chapter 2: The news just gets better...
Boris opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to clear his vision. The house was still quiet, not quite early enough for Helen to be up and preparing breakfast. Rising from the bed and pulling on a pair of running shorts and a tank top, he glanced at the window. Dawn hadn't properly started, and the outside world was still mostly asleep and dark. Quietly opening the door to the room and tiptoeing to the patio, he scribbled a small note, set it on a table, and stepped outside. He tugged on his shoes, stretched his legs briefly, and walked around to the front of the house.
Once his feet touched the sidewalk he started to jog, a fast pace drilled into him through countless hours of training. He went for about 2 blocks and turned a corner, absently counting the number of steps he'd taken. He chuckled as he caught himself doing this, again, more habit from the old days when it might aid in retracing a route. Everything around him caught his attention, a small cat darting behind a fence, a toy left out on a lawn, a man casually smoking under a tree in a park...Boris paused, stopping to look at the man.
"ÐÑ Ð¸Ð¼ÐµÐµÑе ÑигÐÑеÑÑ?"
The man looked up at Boris and nodded slightly, reaching into his coat and removing a pack of Marlboro red 100s. "ÐÐ, взÑÑие одно. Ðо Ð²Ñ Ð½Ðµ кÑÑиÑе."
"Я делÐÑ Ð½Ð ÑлÑÑÐе."
Both men nodded, glanced around, and stepped closer together. Boris looked at the pack of cigarettes and groaned. "100s red? It is bad then?"
The other man nodded, tossing his current smoke to the ground, crushing it underfoot, and drawing another. He lit it, took a drag, and looked at Boris. "ÐÑ Ð¸Ð¼ÐµÐµÐ¼ Ð¸Ñ Ð¿Ð¾Ð¼Ð¾ÑÑ?"
"Mr. Incredible yes. I have not talked to Frozone or Elastigirl about it yet. And the team is ready?"
"ÐÐ. Ðни ждÑÑ Ð²ÐÑ Ð·ÐкÐз."
"Good. And my wife and son? They are safe?"
The man took a long drag of the cigarette, threw it down, and drew another from the pack. He shifted uncomfortably, blew out the smoke and looked away from Boris. "Ðни здеÑÑ."
"What?"
"Ðни здеÑÑ. ÐÑÑгÐÑ Ð¿Ð¾Ð¿ÑÑкРбÑлРÑделÐнÐ."
"Unhurt?"
"ÐÐ."
"Thank god. You will ensure they stay safe?" It wasn't so much a question as a threat.
"ÐÐ."
"Good. Well...perhaps this can be for the best. Does anybody know they are here?"
"ÐеÑ. ÐÑ ÑÐбоÑÐли в ÑекÑеÑе."
"Good. I trust you have the information?"
The man nodded, pulled another pack of cigarettes from his coat, and passed them to Boris. He tucked them in the band of the shorts and nodded. Both men turned and began walking away in opposite directions. Boris resumed his jogging, pondering what to do with the current developments in the situation. There had to be a way to make certain he could keep the presence of his family a secret. He wasn't afraid to introduce them to his friends, but he was worried about the information traveling farther than it should. Sighing slightly, he resumed his jog.
Bob groaned slightly, looked at the digital clock next to the bed, waited for the numbers to come into focus, and sighed. Was it really morning? He sat up and yawned, swinging his legs out of bed and staggering into the bathroom. A cold splash of water from the sink woke him up enough to start the shower, and the act of cleaning himself provided the momentum to get dressed. He headed into the kitchen, found the coffee pot and his favorite mug, and poured himself a cup. He looked over at the table and blinked a few times. When did...oh yes, last night. It had been a long time since he'd had vodka as the Russians consider it, topping somewhere around 90 alcohol.
"Morning Helen...Boris..." Bob walked over and gave his wife a kiss on the cheek and sat down next to her. It took another long moment for his brain to process the way she sat, tensed up and looking at him expectantly. "Something wrong dear?"
"You could have told me exactly what was going on for starters." Helen frowned slightly at Boris, and then sighed.
"About...oh yeah...that...", Bob shifted uncomfortably in his chair, looking at his friend, who seemed to have established a fixed point in his coffee as the center of his attention. "I was going to tell you honey, but..."
"But nothing Bob. You should have told me this might have come up when you got the letter. I wouldn't have said no, but...", Helen bit her lip, wrapping her hands around her coffee cup. "We still haven't dealt with the Underminer yet, and I don't want the children getting involved again. Not if Boris is asking for your...for our help in the matter, and trying to get Lucius on board as well."
"Dear, I'm certain Boris would want the children to stay out of this as well. Right Boris?" Bob looked up at his friend.
"Da...", Boris looked to the side and sighed. "...There has been...complication." His English had slipped from it's normally good state to one heavily laced with his accent. "Information was brought that makes...changing...of situation at hand."
"Boris..." Bob's attitude suddenly went dead serious, knowing that when the Russian talked like that, he was trying to keep as much information to himself as possible. "What happened?"
"We have been discovering things about the enemy. They are persons we are not wishing to have been facing. Again." He looked to the other side, doing his best not to meet Bob's gaze. "It is worse than thinking originally. There are three."
"Three? In addition to the Cossack, or counting him."
"Addition." Boris kept staring at the floor, knowing that he would have to break the news sooner or later. Bob groaned softly.
"What else Boris. Besides the villains what else?" Helen reached over and turned his face to look at hers. "What about the children?"
Boris stared back for a long second and stood, throwing his arms in the air. "We have had attempt on my family's life. They are here, in America, in hiding. We are thinking it may be best interest for your children if they joined my family. Was not my idea, urging of government. Out of town. Like Nebraska. In bunker."
"You want us to send our children into hiding, in a bunker, in Nebraska." Bob felt his temper start to rise at the thought of his children leaving his sight for longer than a day, something which still terrified him, to go hide in a secret facility in the center of the country.
"Was not my idea! My son and wife are currently in city, hiding. Can all be moved together to bunker. Have many, many guards. Spetznaz, ex-KGB. Built to withstand direct nuclear blast. Full cooperation with your government it is."
Helen thought about her children being locked away in a bomb shelter, guarded by dozens of special forces, hours away from his reach by plane, days away knowing how the government worked, and their involvement risked more security holes than she cared to imagine. The image rose to her mind of a group of villains assaulting the bunker, defeating the guards, and taking her children away from her, and she would be helpless to stop them. She glanced at Bob, he was obviously feeling the same way.
"Boris...", Helen's voice quivered with her barely controlled temper. "We have to decline...we would feel better knowing our children are where we can get to them if we need to." And, she thought, she'd almost lost them once. To almost lose them twice would break any restraint she currently showed for locking them away until they were grown and protecting them from any threat.
"Was afraid you would say that...but understanding." Boris sighed softly and sat down, grinding his hands into his eyes. "At least allow them to join my wife and son in city, Gregor is trained to defend himself and others, and is becoming fine man. Will be minutes away at most, and have helicopters to evacuate at moment's notice."
"Boris...we aren't interested." Bob shook his head slowly, draining the last of his coffee. "You could tell us you would launch them into space in an invulnerable ship that would never run the risk of failure, have enough firepower to vaporize an icecap, with teleporters that would only respond to us, send all others who tried to us them into the heart of the sun, and we still wouldn't be interested. I came too close, we came too close last time. It's bad enough having them with us, where we can see and physically protect them, let alone out of our reach."
"What if ship could be destroying moon and teleporting others straight to black hole?" Boris asked, arching his eyebrows.
"No-wait...you're joking right?" Helen narrowed her eyes at him.
"Yes." Boris sighed heavily and spread his hands apart. "I am sorry. I wish I could think of another plan." His voice had lost its thick accent and returned to more proper English, a sign he had given up. "But a danger exists. The only reason for such an operation to even be planned for is the existence of a real threat. You know how my government is liking to work with the rest of the world, asking yours for help is more painful than having teeth pulled without medication to them. Is there anyway you would consider the possibility of your children, if only to help take care of them during the operations?"
Bob and Helen sighed, looked at each other and felt a wave of helplessness sweep over them. If their friend, one of the strongest and most fearless heroes on the planet was that afraid for the safety of their children, they knew this was something they would eventually have to come to agreement on.
"Maybe. Let us think it over first. It's nothing personal Boris, you know that...", Helen reached across the table to set her hand on his arm. "It's just after what happened we are terrified at the slightest thing that might attract more attention to our children than necessary."
"All right. Now that we've got that out of the way, how about you update me on who we're going up against?" Bob leaned forward, picking up a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. "Good morning Dash...", he glanced at Helen, who nodded slightly. She saw it too, so chances were he'd just come into the room.
"Morning Dad, Mom, Boris. What are you guys talking about? Up against what?" Dash rummaged through the fridge, pulling out a carton of milk. "Are you guys going after more bad guys?"
"No honey, your father and Boris were planning a competition. Right?" Helen elbowed Bob and kicked Boris under the table.
"Yes! That's right. We were just talking about the way to set up the rules for it, right Boris?"
"Da. Planning to have massive contest between super heroes, to find out who is the world's strongest. Your father and me were trying to think of people to invite to compete."
"Cool!" Dash poured cereal into a bowl, added milk, and arrived at the table a second later, spoon in hand. "Are you gonna compete Dad?"
"Well...uh...", Bob winced slightly as he received another elbow from Helen. "Of course. Nobody is stronger than me after all."
"I dunno, Boris looks pretty strong. Are you stronger than my dad?" Dash said this between mouthfuls of cereal, barely pausing between bites to fill his mouth again.
Boris shook his head quickly at Helen, rubbing his left shin with the back of his other leg. "Of course I am. Nobody is stronger than the Russian Bear!" He flexed his arms and grinned at Bob. "Not even Mr. Incredible!"
"That sounds like a challenge to me Bob..." Helen grinned at her husband mischievously, glad to have diverted both Dash's attention and the subject, even if it was only temporarily. "I think you two should go out back and find out."
"Yeah! That would be awesome! What are you gonna do? Lift things over your head, or wrestle, or..."
"I think something a little less dramatic will work. Arm wrestling should do the trick. What do you think Boris?" Bob smiled, glad to have the chance to take another shot at a contest he had failed long ago.
"Agreed. Winner gets..." Boris thought for a second, trying to figure out what he could offer to Bob. "Bragging rights for life and..."
"The first batch of bacon and eggs." Helen just hoped she had enough in case the Russian won. In any event it would be fun to watch her husband try again at this.
"Wow! This is so cool!" Dash finished his cereal, had the bowl rinsed out and in the sink, and was back in his chair in the space of a second. "I can't even figure out who to root for!"
"Alright then, let's get this started. Hope your not too hungry Boris, you might be waiting a while."
"Only hungry enough to polish off everything cooked. Try to not be watching me eat too hard, it makes me feel uncomfortable."
Exchanging the ritual posturing that must accompany every struggle between men, Bob and Boris made their way outside, with Dash running back and forth, trying to decide who to cheer on. Helen shook her head in amusement as they took seats opposite each other and pulled over the stone patio table. They locked hands, spit on the ground as tradition demanded, and began to push against each other.
"Boris you slacker...", Bob grinned wickedly as his friend struggled simply trying to shift his hand the slightest bit. "And here I thought you were staying in shape." He pushed forward and the Russian gasped, the veins on his neck and arm bulging out. He strained to maintain his hand from above the surface of the table, simply trying to push it back upright.
"Da...am thinking...same thing...about you!" With a sudden heave his muscles rippled under his flesh and the skin took on a hard, shiny appearance. He heaved Bob's hand back over in the opposite direction, almost slamming it into the table before the other man recovered from his surprise to react. The hands wavered for a second and struggled back up the center, wavering slightly as each man sought to acquire an advantage.
"I knew you were holding back!"
"Always for you comrade! Always holding back for you!"
"Why bother? Go at it with all you got! You never did before!"
"Da! And never needed to!"
"You couldn't! You were afraid!"
"Bob! Boris! Take it easy!" Helen eyed the table with concern, noting the way it seemed to be taking the extraordinary stress placed on it.
"Afraid of nothing! You were always scared one!"
"Like the time I had to save you from those mentalists?"
"Like time I held up building so you could crawl out?"
"Guys!" Helen had seen the two fight before, and it wasn't pretty. Usually things wound up broken beyond repair, and it looked like irregardless of the argument the table would suffer that fate.
"Dirty pinko!"
"American Dog!"
"Commie!"
"Capitalist!"
Both men continued to shout at each other, throwing everything they had into their contest of strength. As the insults started sliding towards profanity, Helen stepped in.
"CHILDREN!" She slapped her hand down on the table, startling both men and herself when it cracked in half from the impact. They stared at it for a moment, and then Bob and Boris leapt out of their chairs and embraced fiercely, laughing as hard as they could.
"Comerade, we have broken the table for the wrestling!" Boris reached up to wipe a tear from his eye.
"It was actually Helen who struck the fatal blow. Helen you murdered the table!" Bob shook with laughter, leaning on his friend.
The sound of a crying baby inside brought them to their senses, and Helen shot an exasperated glance at her husband and friend, then hurried back inside muttering about men and their stupid habits. She walked into Jack-Jack's room and picked him up, patting him on the back and making soft noises.
"Shh honey...shh...it's just daddy and his friend being stupid, that's all. Shhh..." She rocked the baby until he quieted down, and stepped into the hall. She looked over to see Violet emerging from the bathroom brushing her hair back.
"What was that all about mom?" Violet got out through a yawn. "They could have woken half the neighborhood..."
"They probably did. Your father and Boris had another one of their little contests. As usual, neither won, they just struggled until they broke something." She rolled her eyes about the stupidity of the male species in general and her daughter giggled.
"Yeah, dad does that when he gets to competing." Violet walked past her mother into her room, closing the door behind her. "Could you call me when breakfast is ready?"
"Sure thing honey." Helen resolved that the men would eat last, she had hungry children to feed, and was a little upset at the way they had started to fight like that. And the broken table. She couldn't forget that. With another sigh of exasperation she headed into the kitchen and started to make breakfast.
Author's Note: I promise I'll get to Violet and Dash more next time! It's 1:30 am and I have to be at work in 6 hours, and I work in spurts. This, and the first chapter, were done in about 5 hours each, counting smoking and bio breaks, dinner, and spell checking/final editing. And I promise you'll see the enemy next time, and a bit more excitement.