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Dystopian Paradise
Thunder roared overhead, lightning cracking across the sky in a bright arc against the cloud covered night sky. Angry waves crashed against the shore, submitting to the whims of the storm that had been raging continuously since daybreak. In the middle of the barren landscape that seemed to stretch on forever sat a single large house, the occupants of which sheltered from the vicious bite of the cold wind. In one of the bedrooms of the third floor, a young woman by the name of Amitaf was perched at a desk in the corner looking intently at her laptop. The screen held images of spreadsheets that she compared to the files she had been working on for the last week. She worked meticulously, checking and double checking to make sure they matched. She gave a small hum of approval upon realising they did. After saving the document and sending off a quick email, she flipped the folder shut and tucked it into a leather satchel to return tomorrow. A quick glance at the clock had her standing up and stretching before leaving the room to go prepare dinner.
In the kitchen, she washed her hands in the sink and set out everything she needed. She boiled potatoes and beets in a saucepan with stock. Onions, caraway seeds, salt, cabbage and carrots were cooked in salt and butter. The potatoes and beets were added to this, along with black pepper, dill weed, cider vinegar, honey, and tomato puree. She left that simmering and started cleaning the dishes she was finished with.
The main course handled, she began making an olivye. Boiled potatoes, carrots and eggs were mixed with pickles, peas, ham, parsley and a liberal amount of mayonnaise. Amitaf placed some sliced bread in the oven to warm and headed upstairs. She knocked on the door directly opposite her bedroom and heard her brother's voice call her to enter.
Her brother was sitting on his bed reading, and he sat his book aside upon her entry. Amitaf thought to him, "Uzhin budet sdelano v blizhaysheye vremya." Dinner will be done shortly.
Dmitry replied aloud, "Ya spushchus cherez neskolko minut." I'll be down in a few minutes.
Amitaf nodded and retreated back to the kitchen. From the freezer, she retrieved a bottle of Tovaritch that she took to the dining room. She added some shot glasses and water glasses to each setting. The bread was taken from the oven and set in the middle of the table, and Amitaf served the food into dishes, adding sour cream, extra soll weed and chopped tomatoes to the borscht. She carried everything into the dining room, and Dmitry came down a moment later.
The siblings talked about work while they ate, Amitaf projecting her thoughts and Dmitry using his voice. To an outsider, it would seem odd, but that was a normal occurance in the Triglav household. It didn't help the scene that the sister and brother could scarcely look more different. Amitaf was a delicate looking thing with skin lacking all pigmentation, leaving her looking as if no one had ever gotten around to finish coloring her. Waist length, wavy, stark black hair and tanzanite eyes made for a jarring contrast. She was lined with sinewy muscle, deceptively strong. Dmitry, on the other hand, was a giant, hulking form with bronze skin and amber eyes. The only feature he shared with his sister was black hair, straight and long enough to brush the middle of his shoulder blades. The hair was a trait gained from their mutual father, but most of their appearances came from each of their mothers.
After dinner, apple sharlotka leftover from the previous night was served along with a nice pinot gris. Once they finished, Dmitry cleaned up while Amitaf returned to her room and showered. She then slipped into one of Dmitry's old t-shirts that was like a dress on her. She settled into her warm bed and read a few articles before turning off her lamp and going to sleep listening to the storm raging overhead.
***
The next afternoon, the rain had blown over, and the ocean had calmed. Amitaf had wasted no time upon returning home to strip and jump in. The cold Arctic waters closed over her head, her black tresses floating. While not ideal for most, the nearly freezing temperatures didn't bother her at all. She felt the shifts her body made to adapt: legs melding together, becoming scaled, her neck producing gills on either side, webbing appearing between her fingers while her nails became clawed. The pinnae of her ears started shrinking, and her inner ear lined itself with venous plexus as her teeth lengthened and sharpened. Her ciliary bodies disappeared, and her corneas modified themselves.
After her change, she began swimming away, flicking her tail and steering with her arms. She quickly gained depth and distance from her starting point. A school of fish swam by, but she didn't feel hungry. After she got to what she estimated to be about 200 meters deep, she resorted to echolocation to make up for the lack of sunlight. She swam for hours, eventually venturing to the ocean floor to eat a few crabs. Reluctantly, she began swimming home to shower and change before she and Dmitry had to leave for their next assignment.
The two siblings drove into Dikson proper first, and then they made their way to the Dikson Aiport. They caught their flight, during which Amitaf took a much needed nap. When she woke, they were midway through the flight so she tasked herself with catching up on some reading. When the plane landed, they walked out to the car that had been left for them. The keys were in the center console, and Dmitry drove them to a coffee shop not far from their target. Amitaf got the backpack left for her out of the back seat, relishing the familiar weight. She went into the coffee shop and waited, toying with the strings of her hoody. After a few minutes, she heard Dmitry's voice in her earpiece saying, "Ya otklyuchil kamery bezopasnosti." I've disabled the security cameras.
She stood up and walked out of the shop and across the street. She entered the building and quickly made her way up the several flights of stairs to the roof. She knelt down and pulled a lock picking kit from the bag. It took but a few moments, and then she had the door open.
She settled herself im the roof, opening the backpack and assembling the rifle within. As soon as she had it set up and aimed, she thought, "Ya gotov." I'm ready.
Right on cue, the man inside the building she was looking into started walking through the house, right in front of the window. She took the shot, sending blood and brain matter out the back of his head. Screaming erupted, and Amitaf quickly packed up and rushed downstairs. She met Dmitry at their prearranged meeting place and slid into the car. They drove to a hotel and went to room 223. They found Briggs on the couch waiting for them.
"Everything go okay?" he asked. Briggs was one of the field agents assigned in the States. He worked close to the government and sent information back to Russia. Someone had started digging up dirt on him so Amitaf and Dmitry were tasked with clean-up.
"She took care of it," Dmitry assured. "You should be more careful."
"I know; it was an accident."
Amitaf gave him a look that told him exactly how she felt about accidents. She didn't say anything, however.
They left shortly after, going back to the airport after stopping for food. They left the backpack in the car to be taken care of. Amitaf texted her father to check in, but she received no reply. That wasn't unusual because he was away on a long-term case. He would reply when he could.
They borded the plane, and this time Dmitry slept while Amitaf read. She stayed awake the entirety of the flight, sighing in relief when they landed.
When they arrived back at the house, Amitaf and Dmitry were starving. Amitaf had absolutely no desire to cook so they ate whatever they could get their hands on. As they were finishing up, Amitaf received a call from her father, and she wandered into the living room to answer. "Ey, papa," she answered. Hey, Daddy.
"Privet, dorogoy. Kak ty?" he answered. Hello, Sweetheart. How are you?
"Ya v poryadke. Dmitry i ya tolko chto zakonchili yest." I'm well. Dmitry and I have just finished eating.
He responded, "Eto khorosho. Ya dolzhen idti seychas, dorogaya, no ya lyublyu tebya. Pozabottes o Alexie dlya menya." That's good. I have to go now, Sweetheart, but I love you. Take care of Alexie for me.
Amitaf felt a chill. "Ya tozhe lyublyu tebya, papa, i ya budu. Proshchay." I love you, too, Daddy, and I will. Goodbye.
"Proshchay." Goodbye.
Amitaf went back into the kitchen to speak to Dmitry. "Kryshka papy byl vzorvan." Dad's cover has been blown.
Dmitry looked up, startled from where he was doing dishes, a concerned expression on his face. "Vyzov Valentin. Pust on znayet, i my uvidim, chto on govorit." Call Valentin. Let him know, and we'll see what he says.
Amitaf nodded and placed the call. It rang a few times, and then Valentin answered. "Zdravstvuyte?" he asked. Hello?
"Valentin, eto Amitaf. Pozitsiya ottsa byla narushena." Valentin, this is Amitaf. Father's position has been compromised.
A small inhalation came down the line. "Alexie?" he asked.
"Da." Yes.
There was a moment of silence and then, "Vkhodite, kak tolko vy mozhete zavtra. Ya soobshchu vam o missii svoyego ottsa. Ya budu govorit s amerikantsami segodnya vecherom, chtoby uvidet, kakiye mery mogut byt sdelany." Come as soon as you can tomorrow. I will inform you about your father's mission. I will speak with the Americans tonight to see what arrangements can be made.
"Da, ser," Amitaf replied. Yes, Sir.
They hung up. Amitaf didn't bother repeating the conversation to Dmitry; he undoubtedly heard it all. They didn't say anything for a moment. "My dolzhny poluchso nekotoryy son," Dmitry finally spoke up. We should get some sleep.
Amitaf nodded and walked distractedly upstairs to her room. She showered off the travel grime and brushed her teeth. Dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, she slid into bed and tried to sleep. She felt uncomfortable in her own skin. It wasn't unusual for her, but it didn't make it anymore pleasant. She closed her eyes, her mind running like a hamster in a wheel.
***
"Tvoy otets pytalsya snyat chto takoye koltso s torgovley lyudmi v vedenii paranormalnykh sushchestv v Soyedinennykh Shtatakh," Valentin started. Your father was trying to take down a human trafficking ring run by paranormal entities in the United States. "Gosudarstva potyanulsya k nam okolo trinadtsati nedel nazad. Tvoy otets proveril v regulyarno, i nichto, kazalos, ne tak." The States reached out to us about thirteen weeks ago. Your father checked in regularly and nothing seemed amiss. Valentin was approximately 200 centimeters tall, with blonde hair and brown eyes. Faint lines around his mouth and eyes were just beginning to give away his age.
"Kakiye vidy paranormalnykh sushchestv?" Amitaf asked. What kinds of paranormal creatures?
"My ne znayem, navernyaka, no yest po krayney mere odin sirena v mikse." We do not know for certain, but there is at least one siren in the mix.
Dmitry asked, "Razve chto, kak oni privlekayut svoikh zhertv?" Is that how they attract their victims?
"My schitayem, chto da." We think so. "Posledneye my slyshali ot vashego ottsa, on byl zakrytiya v v tsentre ikh deyatelnosti." Last we heard from your father, he was closing in on the center of their operations.
"Kogda my ostavim?" When will we leave? Dmitry looked anxious.
"Vy budete rabotat s komandoy v Amerike. Ikh strui budet zabrat vas v chas." You will be working with a team from America. Their jet will pick you up in an hour.
Dmitry began to protest, but Amitaf beat him to it. "Net. Eto o nashem ottse. My ne budem doverit eto vne nas, osobenno dlya lyudey, kotorykh my ne znayem, kotoryye uzhe poteryali yego odnazhdy." No. This is about our father. We will not entrust it outside of us, especially to people we don't know who have already lost him once. "Krome togo, Dmitry, i ya khorosho rabotayut vmeste. Protsent uspekha sostavlyayet 97%. My ne nuzhdayemsya v pomoshchi." Furthermore, Dmitry and I work well together. Our success rate is 97%. We don't need help.
"Eto ne moy prizyv. Amerikantsy ne reshayutsya rabotat' s nami. Eto luchshaya sdelka ya mog by poluchit." It's not my call. The Americans are hesitant to work with us. This is the best deal I could get. "Yedinstvennaya prichina, pochemu oni obratilis za pomoshchyu svoyego ottsa v tom, chto oni rabotali s nim ranshe i znal, chto on byl odnim iz luchshikh." The only reason they asked for your father's help is that they had worked with him before and knew he was one of the best.
"Takim obrazom, my prinyat yego ili ostavit yego togda?" Dmitry asked. So we take it or leave it then?
"Da." Yes.
Amitaf didn't like it. She was a creature of habit and other than Dmitry and occasionally her father, she worked mostly alone. But this was something she couldn't change, and she had bigger problems to worry about. Besides, with their familiarity with the country and its ways, they could be assets. Resigned, she said, "Prekrasno. Kto i chto my rabotayem s?" Fine. Who and what are we working with?
Valentin handed her a few manilla folders. "Eto vse, chto my imeyem na meste prestupleniya koltsa i paranormalnykh agentov vy budete rabotat." That's everything we have on the crime ring and the paranormal agents you'll be working with.
Amitaf tucked the folders under her arm, and she and her brother turned to leave.
"Da, i yeshche odna veshch," Valentin said. Oh, and one more thing. They glanced back. "Udachi." Good luck.
On the plane, Amitaf pulled out the folders Valentin gave her. She handed the information about the agents to Dmitry, and kept the human trafficking for herself. While she was better at telling when somebody was trying to pull a fast one, Dmitry was better at communicating with people without offending them, so it was better if he got a little background information to work with. Amitaf tended to be more analytical; she would look over what information their father had accumulated.
The victims all seemed to be people with high risk lifestyles: prostitutes, runaways, addicts, the homeless. They were taken from across most of the US so no one made the connection for a while. All of the abductions happened at night, and almost all near bodies of salt water. It wasn't until one homeless man in Florida came forward and said he saw an angel lead her away that one of the undercover paranormal officers checked it out off duty and reported it to the higher ups that people started linking the incidents. Further investigation led them to underground auctions that sold their captives to both other paranormals and humans.
There was nothing in the files about where her father thought their headquarters was.
Amitaf put the folder down on the table in front of her and looked at Dmitry. 'Chto vy uznali o nashikh kollegi?' What did you find out about our colleagues?
Dimitri looked up. "Oni prosto mogut okazat'sya poleznymi v kontse kontsov." They just might prove useful after all. He handed her one file. She opened it and there was a picture of a pretty, smiling woman paper clipped to a few sheets of paper.
Name: Laelia Elizabeth Mercier
Rank: Sergeant
Species: Fury
Age: 28
Race: Caucasian
Height: 5'6"
Hair Color: Red
Eye Color: Green
Magical Abilities: Mercier has an affinity for fire and can cause insanity in others through sustained eye contact.
Languages: English, French
Born: August 8, St. Louis, Missouri
The documents continued giving more detailed information on her background, the strength of her abilities, last known address, etc.
"Yarost? Ya nikogda ne videl odin iz tekh, kto v deystvii." A fury? I've never seen one of those in action before. Amitaf's eyes twinkled.
Dmitry smiled back and handed her another folder. "Vot." Here.
Name: Antonio Vazquez Perez
Rank: Corporal
Species: Werejaguar
Age: 36
Race: Hispanic
Height: 5'11"
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Magical Abilities: Vazquez has an affinity for earth and can shift into a jaguar at will
Languages: English, Spanish
Born: March 27, Atlanta, Georgia
Amitaf held her hand out for the next file.
Name: Michael Reid Alexander
Rank: Warrant Officer
Species: Mercreature and Faery
Age: 33
Race: Caucasian
Height: 6'2"
Hair Color: Blonde
Eye Color: Blue
Magical Abilities: Alexander has affinities for both water and air
Languages: English, Spanish, Indonesian, German, Russian
Born: September 17, Jamestown, Virginia
Dmitry handed her the last file before she could ask.
Name: Dylan James Cole
Rank: Private
Species: Human
Age: 35
Race: African American
Height: 6'
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Magical Abilities: N/A
Languages: English
Born: May 4, New York City, New York
"Eto pervoye, chto ya uslyshal otpravki lyudey, chtoby zabotit'sya o veshchakh, kak eto." Amitaf thought to Dmitry. This is the first time I've heard of sending humans to take care of things like this.
"Ya ne vizhu, kak eto mozhet byt polezno, no yesli on ostayetsya vne puti on ne mozhet, povredit," Dmitry said. I don't see how it can help, but if he stays out of the way he can't hurt.
"Pravda." True. Just then, the pilot came over the intercom saying they'd be landing soon.
Amitaf and Dmitry looked at each other. They packed up their things and got ready to meet their new colleagues.
***
Dmitry and Amitaf walked through the airport, eyes searching for their temporary teammates. Amitaf nodded a little off to the right to them, and Dmitry followed her gaze to them standing in a group by themselves.
As the two began walking over, the group looked up and met them halfway.
The lowest ranking member, the human Dylan Cole, had short, dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin. He was fit, but it wouldn't do him too much good against the wrong kinds of paranormals. He looked like he was uncomfortable but trying to hide it.
Corporal Antonio Perez, the werejaguar, seemed a bit more at ease. He had black, shoulder length hair pulled back in a ponytail, dark eyes, and caramel skin. He looked like he went to the gym a few times a week, too.
Second in Command Laelia Mercier wasn't terribly tall, but she seemed like it. Maybe it was because Amitaf knew what the woman was capable of. She seemed friendly, and she had hair that had a little help getting a scorching red color with black tips. Her eyes were dull green with flecks of emerald, and her skin was porcelain.
Michael Alexander, the Warrant Officer, looked proffessional and polite but not overly kind. He worked out more than the others, and had shock white hair, the same colorless shade as Amitaf's own skintone. The mercreatures always had some white feature that revealed them to others. His hair was short, which was somewhat curious to Amitaf because most with Fae blood in them usually grew their hair out to hide their pointed ears. His eyes were pale blue, and his skin was pale gold.
When they met in the middle, Alexander held out his hand. "I'm Warrant Officer Michael Alexander. You are Amitaf Triglav, I presume?"
Amitaf shook his hand briefly, hiding her discomfort at the touch. "That is correct. This is my brother Dmitry."
Alexander shook her brother's hand and introduced them to the team. Then he said, "We can talk in the car. Are these all of your bags?"
"Yes." They all shuffled in and out of the crowd towards the exit. When they got outside, Amitaf took a deep breath of the hot, humid air. She wanted to run and stretch her legs after all of the flying.
After putting Dmitry's and Amitaf's bags in the back of the van, they tried to sort out who would sit where.
Dmitry rode shotgun because he was 226 centimeters tall and invariably drew stares no matter where they went unless they were around giants. Dmitry was only a half giant and was about as tall as the average giant female. There was no way he was fitting anywhere else. Amitaf and Mercier sat in the back, and Cole and Perez sat in the middle two seats.
"So, what species are you?" Cole asked awkwardly as they pulled out into the road.
"What species do you think we are?" Amitaf asked, startling everyone in the car but Dmitry. Alexander glanced back at her in the rearview mirror briefly before turning his eyes back to the road, and everyone else turned in their seats to stare at her.
"What?" she asked.
Mercier said, "Sorry. We just didn't know you could do that. Is it a form of telepathy?"
"You don't have files on us?" Dmitry asked.
"Yes," Alexander said, "but the higher ups waited until it was time to pick you up to tell us we'd be working with you so we wouldn't have a chance to argue. We haven't been able to look over them yet."
"Do you want us to just fill you in," Amitaf asked.
"Sure, if you don't mind," Mercier said.
"Dimitri and I have different mothers so our powers vary a little more than most siblings. We are both a quarter siren and a quarter shifter, giving us affinities for air and earth."
"How does being part siren give you an affinity for air?" Cole asked.
"Sirens are often grouped together with the mercreatures, but they are another species entirely. Sirens are half bird, half human creatures that can lure people to their deaths using a song. Sirens are usually malevolent towards humans as well, while mercreatures tend to be more kind, sometimes even falling in love with and breeding with humans."
"How is that possible? The breeding I mean. Don't mermaids have tails and lay eggs?"
"Yes, but I'll explain that in a minute." Amitaf continued. "Dmitry's mother was a giant, which aren't really as tall as you might think. Thousands of years ago, humans were trying to kill off giants so at the time only the shorter ones could survive and breed. Now the average height for a male giant is only about 262 centimeters. Or," she thought for a moment, "8'7"."
"Then Dmitry is a little short, isn't he?" Perez asked.
"He's only a half giant." Amitaf shrugged. "I can project my thoughts to anyone telepathically, but I can't recieve them. My mother was a mermaid which gives me a water affinity. Mercreatures have three forms they can take on: the traditional upper half of a human and lower half of a fish, a form with only the bare essentials to survive in the water and a human form that can't survive underwater.'
"How do they swap between the forms?" Cole asked.
"The same way shifters and weres do."
"Magic?"
Amitaf looked towards the front of the car to Alexander. "Please tell me that this isn't his first case."
Alexander met her eyes in the mirror. "Sorry," he said, and he sounded like he meant it.
"Your government is sending not just a human, but a clueless human in to help rescue a Warrant Officer from another country whose help you requested to help solve a crime on your soil? A Warrant Officer that was captured while trying to do just that?"
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