I was waiting for the Boris and Natasha (as I had dubbed them in my own, strange little mind) to start shaking me down about the rock. It was the only thing I could think of that in the house that would be worth all this.
So I was more than a bit surprised when Boris walked right by me and pulled my dad up off the sofa. "My compliments," he said with a nasty little smirk. "It seems your reputation is every bit as good as I've heard, Mr. Pomeroy. But it's time to stop playing this little game and get down to business."
"Walt?" mom asked, sounding as confused as I felt, "What's he talking about?!? Who are you people? What do you want?!?"
Boris looked at my dad with that same nasty smile. "Why Walt," he said, drawing dad's name out as though it amused him. "Do you mean to say that you've concealed such a magnificent secret from your lovely wife? And doubtlessly, from the boy and these two darling girls as well." He tsked mockingly. "I ask you, where is the trust these days?"
He turned to face each of us in turn. "Your dear husband and father has been systematically lying to each of you, you know. For the past twenty-two years - before you little brats were even a gleam in his eye - before he'd even met you, my dear - he's been telling everyone that he works for a cosmetics company, doing research into various after-shaves and colognes! The truth is - the truth is, he has been doing research, all right - but of the top secret, black ops, government variety! Research that would make anyone who held it not only wealthy beyond all dreams, but immensely powerful as well! And before the night is over, we shall-"
"Quiet!" "Natasha" yelled angrily from across the room. "You talk too much, you know that?!?"
Boris frowned, but nodded. "You're right. So - to business." Turning back to dad, he cocked a pistol and shoved it against his jaw. "The formula - you know the one we mean! Where is it?"
"Bite me!" dad said. I was both amused that my dad even knew the term, and scared silly that Boris would kill him - then us.
Boris lowered his gun and motioned to one of the goons. "Theta - over here."
"Theta" strode over. He was about six and a half feet tall and looked like a professional weightlifter. "Yessir?" he asked.
Before anyone could say or do anything, Boris whipped his pistol up and shot Theta right between the eyes. He crumpled to the ground, dead. Natasha watched, seemingly bored. The only sound in the room was the whimpering of Mindy and Wendy.
"Theta was one of my men," Boris said quietly, sounding even more menacing thatn before. "I trained him, and was actually quite fond of him. Now, if I'm capable of eliminating my own very valuable troops simply to make a point, think how much more willing I'll be to do the same to your rotten, stinking family!"
With that, he cocked the gun again and pointed it straight at my face.
