(Intermittent Waves Recorded From the Transformed Heart of A Woman)





Habakkuk 2:1,2 (KJV)


1 I will stand upon my watch, and set me upon the tower, and will watch to see what he will say unto me, and what I shall answer when I am reproved.


2 And the Lord answered me, and said, Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it.




Hal called Martin and told him that he needed to go home and get an important document. He promised Rachel that he wouldn't be gone long and asked to be informed immediately if there was any news about Zenobia and the baby.


Steve was still following the tip from Lieutenant Hamilton, and supervising a search in New Jersey for Jake. Rahid had gone home to rest for the night. When Martin called Steve to check in, Steve was not happy about him taking Hal home, alone.


The ride was quick and uneventful. Carefully keeping watch, Martin had Hal home and inside in no time at all. Hal hurriedly went to his hiding place and pulled out the notebook in which he had recorded Auntie Tanya's notes and contacts. Looking in the back of the book at the names listed for hackers, he picked up his phone and dialed the phone number of the first named person, a Yevgeniy Svyashchennik. Hearing the phone click and someone answer, Hal didn't dare try to pronounce the last name.


"Hello, this is Hal Siegfried-Graves, may I please speak to Yevgeniy?"


There was no response and the phone seemed to go silent, so, Hal repeated himself.



"Hello, this is Hal Siegfried-Graves, may I please speak to Yevgeniy?"




"Hello...thank you Dmitrii. Yes, this is Yevgeniy."




"Hi, I'm Tanya Graves Yanovich's nephew, Hal and I'd like to hire you to do some work for me."


"Are you available to meet with me tonight, Mr. Graves? Right now?"


"Yes, but, it doesn't..."


"Excuse me Mr. Graves, but, I keep all of my calls short. My men will be there to pick you up in half an hour. Okay?"


"Fine, but..."


"See you soon, Mr. Graves. Goodbye."




It had been a tiring day filled with the unexpected and unforgettable. Hal thought about how quickly his life had changed and how it continued to evolve. His life and ancestry spoke of unhealthy alliances, family feuds, greed, and a multitude of sins that wealth, mixed with evil, can bring. Amidst the pounding of corporate espionage, treason, and waves of uncertainty washing over his mind, lurked an ambitious and treacherous foe, branching out in all directions weaving a tangled web. As he chased the elusive spider, trying hard not to be the fly caught within its sticky, cleverly woven trap, Hal's heart pounded within his chest; a constant reminder that his life was in jeopardy.


Hal informed Martin about the impromptu meeting and Martin suggested that they drive to the meeting in their own car, following their escort. Hal agreed and at Martin's request they sat in the car waiting across the street from the mansion to have an optical advantage over whoever would be arriving to escort them to the meeting. Martin wasn't taking any chances that Derek could have hired someone else to kill them.


After a while, in approximately thirty minutes, exactly, a plain looking, dark car turned onto the street and shut off its headlights. Slowly, it crept down the street and stopped in front of Hal's mansion. Hal expected them to drive up to the gate, but, they just sat there. All of a sudden, they made a U-turn straight on in front of their car and turned on the brightest beam of their headlights blinding them. Two men got out of the car with guns and rushed their car. Hal and Martin put their hands up. The two men started yelling commands at them in what sounded like heavy Russian accents.




"I...I'm Hal Siegfried-Graves and this is my bodyguard."


The men looked at one another.


"Search them Borya."


Borya thoroughly searched Hal and Martin and confiscated their guns and Martin's knife.


"Come on, get in our car. Yevgeniy sent us for you to come meet with him. Keep your hands up, until we tell you to put them down."


As they all squeezed into the car, the leader informed the driver of who they were. 


"Lower your arms."


Hal and Martin slowly lowered their arms and before they could say or do anything else, each one of them had an arm punctured with a needle from a small device. In no time at all, they began to feel woozy. The last thing Hal remembered was vaguely hearing the leader say something in Russian that made the driver take off speeding.


Pospeshi, ili u Yevgeniya budut nashi zadnitsy, yesli my opozdayem!

[Hurry, or Yevgeniy will have our asses, if we're late!]




Hal awakened to find himself sitting in a luxurious chair in front of a long desk, in what appeared to be a study. The middle-aged man sitting across from him, behind the desk was smiling.



"Hello, Mr. Siegfried! I am Mr. Svyashchennik, Yevgeniy Svyashchennik. You can call me Priest. I've been waiting for your call. I told Yonny, that is, your Aunt Tanya, I told her this whole affair could get quite messy. However, she assured me that she had chosen the right man to take over and you were prepared for what was ahead. Now, I know she has chosen well, for you are here before me.


Please forgive me for the way that you were brought here. This is by no means the way I usually do business and treat my potential employers. However, you are new to me and you must admit that you seem to be surrounded by...how should I put it...unfortunate events?


I must be careful and I must protect our reputation. We have a reputation of getting things done, so to speak. We are known as professionals in finalization--tying up loose ends. We worked with your great-grandfather, Willard Graves, Putin, other heads of state and people in high places on every continent. When needed, we worked for your cousin, Miriam, and Aunt Tanya. Ilya Yanovich and my grandfather did business together in Mother Russia."


Still feeling groggy from the drug, Hal mumbled and attempted to speak, slurring his words together.


"You...you're hackers, right? Where's Martin?"


Mr. Svyashchennik chuckled before he went on.


"Martin is safe and in good company.


You know, Mr. Siegfried...I am told that your Auntie Yonny, as Miriam used to call her, even worked for us for a short time as a shpion--spy. Isn't that right, Dmitrii?" 


Hal slowly turned his head to the right, as the drug continued to have its wavering affect upon his motor skills. Through blurred eyes, he made out the figure of another man who resembled Mr. Svyashchennik sitting in the corner. Expressionless, Dmitrii, nodded his head.


"I can reveal this information, now that she is dead. God rest her soul. However, in this day and age, no one even cares any longer. Yonny was quite a woman! And, she and her father were a treacherous pair!! But, she was much smarter and more dangerous than him, because, she knew how to portray innocence. They may have been Americans, but, their souls were Russian!"


Mr. Svyashchennik heartily laughed, spreading his broad smile from ear to ear as he went on.


"The Graves Family has always been in need of our services and has paid us generously. We are very aware of your problem...uh...Mr. Hurley. Word gets around when competition arrives in town. At this point there is no need to discuss remuneration. We trust you as we would your dear aunt. As a personal favor to your aunt and your great-grandfather, we are willing to provide some services for free. Now, you are free to make up your own mind, of course. You can work with us, or, take your chances with Mr. Hurley and Derek Graves, alone." 


Hal's mind began to clear. In hope of speeding up the process he began to shake his head, vigorously. Suddenly, it all became too clear to him that these men were not computer hackers, as he'd thought. He wondered what Auntie Tanya was thinking. How could she possibly think that he would employ hitmen and be an accessory to murder? Hal blurted out his revelation.


"So you're not hackers...you're...you're hitmen!"


Yevgeniy looked at Dmitrii and slapped his thigh laughing.


"Americans! They are so funny. Always making of jokes, but, not as funny as Russians."


"Mr. Priest, how do I know that you aren't playing..."


"Playing both sides?! Mr. Siegfried! You offend me! We have our standards! We are not common killers and thugs, or, an insane lunatic like...like this...Mr. Hurley, a deranged, sadist, not fit to be called a man, or, fit to walk on the streets of society! We are discreet and professional, employing the most modern techniques in contemporary society, even when things must appear to be simple, or determined to be an accident!


Furthermore, we don't become politically or emotionally involved, killing out of anger! As professionals, we are above such pettiness. We discipline our own and have no tolerance for bribery or blackmail! Our expertise and code of ethics are our keys to success and the standard of excellence which has kept us in business for so long and out of the clutches of the law. Mr. Siegfried, we have honor and integrity. We are businessmen and gentlemen who respect a gentlemen's agreement. Are we not, Dmitrii?"


Again, Dmitrii nodded his head, showing no emotion.


"I'm not a murderer, Mr. Priest..."


"Priest, just Priest. I know you aren't Mr. Siegfried, that is why you are in need of our services. We are not murderers, either. Think of us as...as exterminators. From time to time, everyone needs an exterminator or a little bug spray to wipe out pests.


Now, you may not be a murderer, Mr. Siegfried, but, you want to stay alive and keep your family alive. Don't you? Your father is dead, now, as well as your chauffeur. The mother of your child lies barely alive in a hospital and Mr. Hurley is still roaming around free and waiting to finish the job. Are you willing to continue risking the lives of your loved ones and friends? The men who work for you are valuable to you. Are they not?"


"Yes, but..."


"But, Mr. Siegfried, not only could your men be killed, they could go to prison for killing someone. Do you want this kind of thing to happen?"


"No, but..."


"But, but, BUT?! You cannot make excuses when it comes to protecting lives! What do you think?! Do you think you can depend upon the police to protect you and your family and catch the killer? Nyet ! My family means everything to me. Does it not, Dmitrii? I would not let anyone harm one little hair on my grandchildren's tiny, little heads!"


"I love my family, too,...uh...Priest, and I want Hurley and Derek to pay for killing my father, but, this...this...this isn't me. I can't do this." 


Priest looked at Dmitrii and threw up his hands in despair.


"Please, release Mr. Siegfried's bodyguard and see them to the door, Dmitrii.  Borya and Vadim can take them back home."


Immediately, Dmitrii obeyed and went to retrieve Martin from his captors.


Spokoynoy nochi! Do svidanya, Mr. Siegfried!

[Goodnight! Good-bye]


Shaking his head, Priest sat down at his ornately carved desk. Taking a cigar from his cigar box, he reclined to relax. Dmitrii could be heard leading a very disturbed and disgruntled Martin to the door. Upon opening the door, shots rang out and Dmitrii fell hard over the threshold.


Martin shoved Hal out of the way and pulled Dmitrii's body inside, slamming the door.

Priest ran into the foyer, huffing and puffing. Seeing Dmitrii on the floor covered in blood, he dropped his cigar and fell to his knees.


"GRISHA! GRISHA! Mne nuzhna pomoshch'! [I need help!]


Dmitrii! Dmitrii!"



Priest shook the dead man and received no response. Crying pitifully, he called out his name helplessly, hoping to wake him up, as if he were asleep.

"Dmitrii?! Dmitrii?!"

Priest buried his head in Dmitrii's chest, weeping and pulling him close to him. Grisha ran to the foyer, followed by the two men who had met Hal and Martin and brought them there. They ran outside with their guns, but, Hurley had sped off and was no doubt far away from them, now.

Suddenly, Priest began sobbing loudly over Dmitrii's body. In the midst of his grieving, Priest looked up at Hal, who was being shielded by Martin. Behind his tearful, piercing eyes, Hal could see the intense pain and vengeance within his heart. His words and the threat and force behind them were enough to cut through Hal's soul and send chills throughout his body.




Grisha pulled out his phone and began making calls to his men, while the others prepared guns and munitions. The tall, muscular man they called Borya, seemed to be just as distraught and grieved, if not more than Priest. Nonetheless, wiping his tears, he eagerly armed himself and shoved his ammunition supplies into a duffle bag. From the way that the others comforted him, Hal could only guess that Borya had just lost his father, or a very close relative.


Grisha tried to tear Priest away from Dmitrii's body, but, in his anguish, Priest fought him off and continued to weep over Dmitrii.







Prinesi mne golovu etogo ublyudka! [Bring me that bastard's head!]


Ohhh...Dmitrii...Dmitrii...mmm...moy brat ... moy brat ... vernis' ko mne!

[my brother...my brother...come back to me!]




Priest wept with his whole body, as it shook with rage and anguish. Martin, still shielding Hal, took out his phone to call Steve and let the others know what was going on. Steve told Martin that Vince, Howard, and their crew had just gotten into town. Upon hearing what had just happened to Dmitrii and the murder attempt upon their lives, Steve, Vince, and Howard agreed to all meet and join with Priest's men to end Derek's murderous killing spree that night.


Habakkuk 2:3,4 (KJV)


3 For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry.


4 Behold, his soul which is lifted up is not upright in him: but the just shall live by his faith.

Published by Mishael T