Zhukov's Dogs by Amanda Cyr

even made me jump. He bent his knees and rushed at the children, easily scooping all three up in his enormous arms. They squealed with delight as Tibbs roared again. He spun them in place while the boy with the colander on his head beat him on the back with his foam sword.
    “Thank
God
you’re back. They’ve been driving me crazy,” came a voice from another room.
    A lean girl with dark skin stepped through a doorframe up the hall. Her hair was tied into a thick braid and hung down to the middle of her back like a great stinger. The sharpness of her face and golden eyes led me to believe she might be capable of stinging someone, too. She wore a set of khaki cargos which hung low on her narrow hips and looked like they might have belonged to a boy. The sleeves of her dark green turtleneck were pushed up above her elbows, and she dried her hands with a discolored washrag similar to the ones the rowdy children wore around their necks.
    “Fritzi, come meet our guest,” Tibbs called as he turned the children in a circle to face me.
    Fritzi seemed every bit as apprehensive of me as Val had been. Golden eyes narrowed into cat-like slits as she looked me up and down. “Great. Another mouth to feed. I thought we were done bringing in strays.”
    Tibbs jumped to my defense. “Be nice, Fritz. Nik here helped us out of a couple tight spots, and Val invited him back.”
    “Oh, well
that
makes everything totally fine.”
    Tibbs rolled his eyes at her and set the children down. He patted each one on the head, giving the one with the colander a hard
thunk
before sending them on their way. I watched the tiny herd scurry into a room off the entry hall and heard a crash as one of them fell into something.
    Fritzi mumbled something in German under her breath. With little ears nearby, I knew better than to repeat the translation aloud. She strode past us toward the room the children had disappeared into, shoving the dishrag into Tibbs hands.
    Tibbs removed his hat and scratched the top of his head, like he was embarrassed we’d somehow gone from robbing the governor’s suits to babysitting. “Sorry about that. I promise we’re not a daycare.”
    “Is it just you guys?” I asked.
    “Nah, there should be a few more around here somewhere, and we got a few topside on a mission right now. We’re just one branch, though.”
    The words came like an unexpected smack to the face. I kept my voice steady, and shock hidden, as I asked, “What do you mean? Branch? There are more of you?”
    “Oh yeah, loads,” Tibbs laughed as he shrugged out of his coat. “What sort ‘o threat would just a handful of kids be? We’re all spread out down here.”
    My head swirled. The file Aiden handed me barely had a dozen names in it. Tibbs made it sound like they had a small army to be reckoned with. I needed to know more; that would be the next step of my mission. The endless questions I wanted to ask caught in my throat when Fritzi shouted from the living room.
    “Tibbs! Get in here and help me! Joey’s head is stuck under the couch again!”
    Tibbs grimaced and patted me on the back soundly. “Val should be upstairs. He’s the guy to ask if you want the gritty details,” he said before rushing off to answer Fritzi’s call, leaving me alone in the hall.
    My mind ran wild with theories. I imagined one-hundred grubby revolutionaries swarming the streets. How greatly outnumbered was I? Sweeping my tongue over the roof of my mouth to quell the dryness taking over, I told myself not to panic.
    I was alone in the hall and realized this was my chance to get a quick message out to Aiden. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and composed a text.
    Made it to Seattle. With the family now. Love, Nik
    I wasn’t with my family, and I certainly didn’t love Aiden. At the risk of having my phone taken and the messages checked, though, we’d agreed on a strict code. He was even listed under the name “Ginger” in my contacts.
    With the message sent, I