Hero

SAM

               Sergei Abdulov hadn't been sighted in America for the past few years, and I'd been one of the many agents assigned to look for him. For so long I hadn't figured out anything. Sergei's method was like a little kid's game of hide and go-seek. He gave us a clue of where he was, and when we got inches away from finding him, he disappeared again. It was just like how I would play when I was little. If no one found me in ten minutes, I would make a bunch of noises to give them clues, and right when they came close, I would move somewhere else to avoid them catching me.

               Sergei was leading us on a wild goose chase into nothing, driving me insane. He had been quiet for two years, so it was hard to tell if he was just camping out waiting for us to come to him like this was Call of Duty or if he actually left the country. No, he couldn't have left the country because I had checked every passenger list of every plane headed to Russia, and every passenger list failed to show his name. I didn't even see him in the airport cameras. I had warned every security and any company or facility there was to warn. You could say that all America knew there was a blond-haired Russian psychopath with a scar going through his right eye roaming America like he was in charge. He was like water, slipping right through our fingers. We just needed a glass to put that water in.

               Suddenly, my phone rang. It startled me as I awakened from my deep thinking.

               "Hello?" I answered.

               "Adrian came home early today," Rodriguez said, "With the police." I wasn't surprised.

               "Oh, yeah?" I said, checking my watch. "Oh, seven forty-two? That's a record for him. What'd he do to get him in trouble this early morning?"

               "Violating private property," he told me.

               "It's not as bad as truancy or larceny," I shrugged.

               "Sam, I don't care what crime he committed, it's still a crime, and he had to be punished. I decided to tell you, but now I don't think you're taking this seriously," he said.

               "I'm sorry," I apologized. "I was just looking at all the crimes Sergei's committed, and compared to him, Adrian's violations are practically nothing," I told him, "But you're right. I should be taking this more seriously. How did you punish him?"

               "He's grounded and on restriction for a week," he replied, "And I took his phone away."

               "I bet he was pissed," I assumed.

               "Yeah," Rodriguez sighed, "He said he hated me again. I feel like he says that every year. It's practically a tradition of his now," he cleared his throat. "So, did you find out anything about Sergei's whereabouts?"

               "Zilch," I responded, "The only conclusion I've gotten to is that we're going in circles trying to find him. I predict that he's probably hiding out in New Jersey or Pennsylvania..."

               "What makes you think he's far away? He could've been hundreds of miles away, and then, while the SIU is still looking at New York's neighboring states, Sergei's probably close by. He could be in town, or worse...in our own house," Rodriguez laughed on the other end of the phone. If anything, he shouldn't be the one to say that since he's the one who went through that traumatic experience.

               "Rodriguez, stoppit," I ordered. "You'll jinx it, and if you do, Sergei won't be the one who kills you, I will. Which one do you prefer?"

               "You're right," he agreed, "I shouldn't joke about that. I'm going to go try to talk to Adrian."

               "Alright, love you," I told him.

               "Love you too." He hung up. I resumed my search for the hiding Sergei, but something that Rodriguez said bugged me. The part about Sergei being in town. What if Rodriguez was right?