stop and explain the situation. The search was over. Secrecy was no longer required. The sheriff's department could probably help.
He slowed the Jeep, then braked and veered onto the shoulder. In seconds the patrol car had likewise halted. Lord opened the door. The deputy was already out using the driver'sside door as a shield, gun drawn.
"To the ground. Now," the policeman screamed.
Cars whizzed by in a whirlwind.
"I said on the ground."
"Look, I need to speak with you."
"If your ass ain't pointin' to the sky in three seconds, I'm goin' shoot you."
Akilina was now out of the car.
"Down, lady," the deputy screamed.
"She doesn't understand you," he said. "We need your help, Officer."
"Where's Thorn?"
The rear door opened and the lawyer climbed out.
"Come toward me, Mr. Thorn," the deputy yelled over the traffic, gun still leveled.
"What's happening?" Thorn whispered.
"I don't know," said Lord. "You know him?"
"Face isn't familiar."
"Mr. Thorn, please come here," the officer said again.
Lord took a step. The gun jutted forward. Thorn stepped in front of him.
"Down, Mr. Thorn. Get down. That bastard killed a deputy. Get down."
Had Lord heard right?Killed a deputy?
Thorn did not move. The gun continued to waggle, the officer trying to find a clear shot.
"Down," the deputy said again.
"Alexie. Out," Thorn softly said.
The borzoi snapped to attention and leaped from the car. The deputy had moved from behind the door and was approaching with his gun leveled.
"There," Thorn said to the animal. "Move. Jump."
The animal braced his hind legs, then charged and pawed the air as his muscular body slammed into the deputy. They both crumpled to the graveled shoulder, the deputy screaming. The gun went off twice. Lord rushed over and managed to kick the pistol away.
The dog growled and writhed.
In the distance, more sirens could be heard.
"I suggest we get out of here," Thorn said. "Something is wrong. He said you killed a deputy."
Lord didn't need to be told twice. "I agree. Let's go."
Thorn commanded the dog to the car. They all three climbed in as the deputy tried to scramble to his feet.
"He'll be okay," Thorn said. "There were no bites. I didn't give that command."
Lord slammed the transmission into drive.
Hayes waited at the sheriff's department with Orleg and Droopy. He'd almost gone with the sheriff and his men as they raced northward. The radio call had come twenty minutes earlier. A gray Jeep Cherokee was spotted on Highway 46, heading north toward the next county and Tennessee. A cruiser was in pursuit and the last report was that the Jeep was slowing to a stop. The officer had requested backup, but was ready to handle the situation alone.
He could only hope emotions were running high enough that one of the pursuers would get trigger-happy. He'd made it clear the Russians cared nothing about a warm body, only a body, so perhaps someone would end this nightmare with a well-placed shot. Yet even if Lord and the woman were killed, or just Lord, there was still the problem of Michael Thorn. The police would do what they could to save him, and God knows Lord wasn't going to hurt him. If indeed he was a direct descendant of Nicholas II, as Lord insisted, DNA testing would lay to rest any lingering doubts.
And that would be a problem.
He was standing in a dispatch room, an array of communications equipment banked before him. A female deputy was working the console. Static gristled from an overhead speaker.
"Central. Dillsboro One. We're at the scene."
The voice was the sheriff's and Hayes waited for the report. While he did, he stepped close to Orleg, who stood in the corner near the exit door. Droopy was outside, smoking. He whispered in Russian, "I'm going to have to call Moscow. Our friends will not be happy."
Orleg seemed unfazed. "We had our own orders."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I was told to make sure the woman, Lord, and anyone Lord thought important does not return to Russia."
He wondered if that included him. "You'd like to kill me. Wouldn't you, Orleg?"
"It would be a pleasure."
"Then why haven't you?"
The inspector said nothing.
"It's becausethey still need me."
More silence.
"You don't scare me," he said, his mouth close to Orleg's face. "Just remember. I know it all, too. Let them know that. There are two sons who possess Romanov genes. They will have to be dealt with. Whoever sent Lord and the woman will send others. Assure our friends that my death will result in the world learning the truth faster than that problem can be