Prologue: Seeking Peace

Disclaimer: I own neither the Incredibles, Kingdom Hearts, Where on Earth is Carmen Sandiego or Matilda. The character of Nikolai Varshavsky is my own creation.

Author's note: The Metroville-Soviet War is covered in my fanfics Relocated, Meet the Incredibles, Facility Kronos, and Dogs of War.

Summary: One year after the end of the film Agatha Trunchbull returns with allies of dark origins seeking revenge.

"In the middle of the journey of our life I found myself within a dark woods where the straight way was lost" - Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy, Canto I, 1-60.

The sky was clear and blue that day. The day he had moved into the small cottage on the grounds of Crunchem Hall Elementary School grounds. The cottage was small but had a cozy air to it.

"I do appreciate allowing me a place to stay." Nikolai Varshavsky said to Miss Jennifer Honey, the new principal of Crunchem Hall.

"Well Mr. Boothby told me he had recently hired a new assistant to help tend the grounds and said you were looking for a place to stay." Ms. Honey replied, looking over to the stocky, broad shouldered Russian man in his early thirties.

"So how much is my rent?" Nikolai asked.

"Given you just moved here and just started working we'll start with just making sure the cottage is well maintained and $150 a month should be a reasonable start." Ms. Honey replied.

"That is quite generous of you, Ms. Honey." Nikolai replied.

"Please, call me Jennifer." she replied.

"Alright, thank you, Jennifer. This is most generous of you." Nikolai replied as he looked around the small cottage.

"You're welcome." Jennifer replied as Nikolai put down the olive green backpack he was carrying. It looked like a military type backpack of some sort, her curiosity piqued she asked, "So were you in the Russian army?"

"Briefly." Nikolai said, "Nothing to tell really."

That was a vague response. Jennifer thought. But then again veterans do like their privacy.

It was a Saturday when Nikolai had moved into that small cottage, it still had some of Ms. Honey's old furniture before she had moved back into her father's old house a year earlier.

Jennifer said, "Ok, if you have any questions you have my phone number, and I do live just across school grounds."

"I appreciate it, thank you." Nikolai thought.

"Have a good afternoon." Jennifer said, as she walked out of the cottage, noticing several items on Nikolai's luggage seemed to be of a military nature. An old footlocker with Cyrillic writing, an olive green and well used backpack on his shoulders, and a similarly colored duffle bag with various Cyrillic characters on it.

So far Nikolai seemed polite, if a bit distant, and time would tell if he was a reliable worker. She did, however, trust Boothby's sense of judgment. She thought the old man, despite being crotchety at times, was a good judge of character.

Two men stood near the wrecked cityscape of Municiberg, a city scarred by the previous fighting between Syndrome's former forces that once controlled all of Metroville and the forces of the now defunct Soviet Union. The pair was an older man in a gray suit and a bald African American man wearing jeans and a green sweater.

As they stood by a partially shot up building front near Traction Avenue Frozone said, soberly, "We won. But at what cost?"

"A high cost, to be sure." Agent Rick Dicker replied as he looked out over the wrecked cityscape of Municiberg.

"The Soviets left all the Metroville territory they occupied." Frozone said.

"You mean the Russians now, the Soviet Union no longer exists." Dicker added, holding up a newspaper whose headline announced the dissolution of the Soviet Union and the formation of the Commonwealth of Independent States.

"So the world's changed. But is it for the better or for the worse?" Frozone replied. His friends, the Parrs, no longer lived in Metroville, they now resided on another world having its own issues with the Heartless.

"Still too early to say." Dicker replied, "What we called the Soviet Union and the Warsaw Pact no longer exist. But there's a whole legacy of issues left in its wake. Now its been split into fifteen different states, with vast stockpiles of military hardware to include nuclear and chemical weapons in several different places under new management, poorly managed nuclear power plants, any one of which is a possible Chernobyl..."

Frozone felt his own blood turn to ice. 'Under new management', practically anyone knows that that implies chaos, loss of accountability of various nasty things to include military grade hardware and of course somewhat porous borders at times. Of course there were still the problems of marauding Heartless all over Metroville and the former Soviet states.

"And on our own side too." Dicker replied, "Even accounting for the various Omnidroid facilities has been a nightmare, or worse were the places Syndrome performed his sick experiments on the Heartless."

"Trying to find all of Syndrome's old files has been a headache, but one worth it for us." Frozone replied.

Dicker nodded soberly, "Finding all of Syndrome's hidden labs and getting rid of all of the technology he used to create Heartless in a top priority."

Frozone nodded sagely, "If someone, anyone, gets a hold of that machinery and knows what they're doing..."

Dicker replied, "I'm glad we're on the same page, then."

Run me out of town will you? Throw food all over me will you? Humiliate me will you? Agatha Trunchbull thought. Exile for nearly a year had been bitter fruit, but after she had run into a tidbit of information her curiosity had been piqued.

And now, having picked her way through a complex of caves she had found what her tireless research had brought out. She saw the machinery and the emblem of the Heartless embossed onto it.

With a smile, the rumors of the Heartless had been proven to be true, and she could use their power to get her own back. And possibly more...but let's start small, shall we? First I will get that brat, Matilda, and then my niece...And then who knows what more I can gain with the power of the Heartless.

Agatha Trunchbull rubbed her hands together with glee.

Nikolai had finished with unpacking the last of his possessions and sat on the front porch of the small cottage. The sun was setting back then, a blood red against an orange background. Red and orange. The color of flame. Nikolai thought.

Memories washed over him like waves rushing over the rocks on a beach. He took a breath as he remembered.

Red. The color of the banner of the Soviet Union, a nation that no longer exist. A nation that called upon me time and again since the age of 18. Nikolai thought to himself as he watched the sun set over the horizon.

Kadrirovanniye otriad, skeleton battalion. The voice of the political officer, a massive bear of a fellow who walked with a pronounced limp, echoed loudly through the assembly hall. He limped across the stage, behind him the red banner of the Soviet Union.

"I know all of you have served in the spetsnaz and the VDV (Airborne Forces) during your conscriptions." Comissar Letveyev's voice bellowed loudly, "At the end of your two year military services you were registered as members of kadrirovanniye otriad, subject to the occasional reserve exercise or recall to active service in the event of voennaya opasnosti (military danger). Well gentlemen, it is the latter. As you know tensions with Metroville have been rising ever since that svoloch Syndrome took power. Well the Comrades at the Kremlin believe war to be inevitable."

Nikolai looked to the left and right as he sat in that auditorium on the hard wooden bench, along with several other men ranging in age from 18 to 30, men belonging to the spetsnaz reserve in the region of Krasnodar Krai, which included his hometown of Sochi. Standing along the stage were the 29 cadre that were in charge of training the newly called up reservists.

In the near decade since he had finished serving with a spetsnaz minelaying unit on the Chinese border he had gone to university, gotten a degree in mechanical engineering, working as a mechanical engineer for the city of Sochi. And now the spetsnaz was calling him back.

"Hey Russkie, hand me that pipe wrench." came the shout from above the boiler from Boothby, the school custodian, a slightly pot bellied older gentleman in his fifties.

Nikolai said, "Coming up."

He handed the pipe wrench to Boothby as the latter man twisted to tighten a coupler on a pipe in the boiler room.

"This is the best time to inspect and fix the old boiler down here." Boothby said, grunting as he turned the wrench a few more twists.

After he finished he climbed down from the ladder, wiping grime from his face. He wore a pair of jeans, suede work boots, and a green t-shirt with the words USMC Vietnam Veteran on them.

A kindred spirit perhaps? But time may tell. Nikolai thought as he looked through the well ordered toolbox that Boothby and he had lugged off the latter's pickup truck. Mr. Boothby was definitely a thorough fellow who valued order.

Something I can respect. Nikolai thought.

"When the kids are at recess," Boothby said, with a grunt as he picked up the heavy toolbox and hefted it out to the truck, "It's usually a good time to get things fixed or checked inside the building."

The two men walked outside to Boothby's truck and the sound of barking from the schoolyard. At the sounds of the barks the two men looked at each other and then towards the kids and began to run towards the sound.

The ball bounced past Matilda Honey as Lavender tossed it towards her. It was as she ran towards the trees near the fountain that she saw the large dog resting nearby in the shade. The ball bounced near the resting animal.

The dog sat up with the bounce of the ball near him. And it drew itself to full height, it was mostly tan with black fur around the top of the head and face, with a black saddle of fur and its tail.

Matilda could see the animal was quite large, she could see it was male standing two and a half feet tall. She estimated his weight was around 90-100 pounds, and most of its weight appeared to be muscle despite the fact that its fur seemed to show evidence of living roughly.

The dog barked repeatedly as if to warn her away.

"Kids, stay back." a voice carried across the yard.

Ms. Jennifer Honey, the principal of Crunchem Hall Elementary, had been watching the kids at recess when she heard the barking coming from the trees. She had seen Matilda run into the trees and she ran towards the sound of the barking.

My heavens! Matilda! Ms. Honey thought as she ran over, fearing the very worst, the barks sounding like they came from something quite large.

And her worst fears were confirmed. The dog wasn't quite the size of a Saint Bernard, but it was still quite large, definitely large enough to really hurt Matilda.

"Easy...easy..." Ms. Honey said breathing rapidly. Mentally she was calculating how quickly she could throw herself between Matilda and the barking dog when Nikolai and Boothby arrived.

She just barely heard Boothby say, "Where did that thing come from? It's gigantic."

Nikolai stepped forward, moving towards the animal calmly, slowly. He slowly passed Ms. Honey and then Matilda till he stood between the dog and the two girls. If his theory was correct he might be able to defuse the situation.

Nikolai gave a sharp command, "Sidet."

The dog immediately relaxed, sitting down, panting with his tongue hanging out. Now for the acid test. Nikolai thought before giving a second command, "Ko mne!"

The dog trotted over to Nikolai's side and sat down. He knelt down, scratching the animal behind its ears, "Molodets."

As the dog started licking his face Nikolai noticed the ear tattoo on the dog. Red Star Kennels, near Moscow. Nikolai thought.

He turned towards Ms. Honey, Matilda, and Boothby and said, "I think everything is alright."

Matilda had noticed the tattoo on the inside of the dog too. It was in Cyrillic, two letters in the Russian alphabet.

I don't read Russian. But there's something odd here. How did he know the dog was Russian? Come to think of it how did he know those two commands would work? Matilda thought.

How did he do that? Ms. Honey thought before saying, "Mr. Varshavsky?"

"Yes?" Nikolai replied.

"Thank you." Ms. Honey replied.

"It's quite alright." Nikolai said, "And you are most welcome."

"Hey Russkie." Boothby said, "How in God's name did you do that?"

"It's a bit of a long story." Nikolai replied, "But I had worked around such dogs earlier in my life."

They made wonderful attack dogs during the war. Nikolai thought to himself, but that was something he wasn't entirely willing to let anyone know.

"Ryadom." Nikolai commanded and the dog trotted beside him. Thankfully the Soviet Army was quite good about teaching obedience to its dogs. Nikolai thought as he walked off.

Huh, there's something more to this. For the time being I buy Russkie's answer, but there's something about this guy. Boothby thought to himself. I'll have to keep an eye on him.

"White Fang? Are you sure you want that one?" Ms. Honey asked as Matilda handed the book to her adoptive mother, "I mean after today."

"I'm ok, Mom, are you?" Matilda asked.

Ms. Honey nodded, "I'm alright."

"That was pretty neat how Mr. Varshavsky was able to control that dog. Where did he learn to do that?" Matilda asked.

That was spooky. It was awesome, but boy was it spooky. Ms. Honey thought.

"I'm not sure." Ms. Honey asked, "He never really talked much about what he did in Russia or where he came from."

He had to have learned how to handle big dogs like that somewhere. The Russians don't just have huge dogs like that without a purpose. Matilda thought to herself as Ms. Honey began to read the first pages of White Fang aloud.

"Mom, I have a question." Matilda asked.

"Yes, what's your question, sweetie." Ms. Honey asked.

"Why didn't Mr. Varshavsky talk about where he learned how to control that dog?" Matilda asked.

"Well, Matilda, sometimes grownups don't always like to talk about their pasts. Maybe Mr. Varshavsky just doesn't know all of us yet, and he doesn't feel comfortable." Ms. Honey replied.

He certainly felt comfortable handling that dog. I wonder where and how he learned to do that? Matilda thought to herself. I wonder what secrets Mr. Varshavsky is hiding...

Nikolai scratched Polkan behind the ears, the large Eastern European Shepherd panted softly after lying on the floor beside where Nikolai had just turned up the floorboards. Lying on the bed was a parcel, wrapped in brown butcher paper and tied with bits of string.

Through a small gap in the paper he could see the old KLMK camouflage pattern, standard issue for the old Soviet Army. It was a sight that brought memories again unbidden.

Of course he could have cast the parcel away, burned it, sold it, or otherwise ensured its disposal. But for an unknown reason he couldn't bring himself to rid himself of the package's contents.

Perhaps it is part of me, as surely as my own heart. Nikolai thought as he gently placed the package in that space underneath the floorboards before nailing them back into place.

To Be Continued.

Kadrirovanniye otriad - Skeleton Battalion. In the Spetsnaz each Brigade (otriad) has a small 'skeleton battalion' of 29 men with the express purpose to train reservists called back into active duty in the event of a military emergency.

Ko mne - Come

Molodets - Good Boy

Polkan - A centaur from Russian folklore possessing enormous power and speed.

Ryadom - Heel

Svoloch - Bastard.

Sidet - Sit