The Dragon

One afternoon the self-appointed leader of the local militia came into Vlad’s shop, Vlad recognized him right away, before the war he had been a small-time thief, part of the kriminalac underground his name was Dragomir. After the war started, he went by the nickname The Dragon because he was able to raise funding for the militia, and organize and lead men. The Dragon had found his niche in war. His title sounded more important than he actually was, and his name was more fearsome than the man walking into the shop, he was slight of stature and there was something very rodent like about him. He was wearing a gun in his belt like a cowboy out of a western movie. All that was missing was the jangling of spurs as he walked across the room. The gun he wore was probably the same gun he had used to rob people, but now he wore it openly because the war had given him a license. Vlad was sure The Dragon saw himself as the hero, no one ever thinks of themselves as the villain, but only history and those who survived to write it would add the labels later. Hugin and Munin were sitting at their usual table and watched him cross the store.

“What can I do for you?” Vlad asked.

“Everybody knows who you are, who you were.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“I’m here about the sniper.”

“There are a lot of snipers, there’s a war going on.”

“The sniper that never misses, the one with the unusual sounding gun, a Mauser, just like the gun on your wall, that sniper. Local legend says you were awarded it by Tito.”

“That’s true. It was awarded to all of our team after we won the Olympics.”

“And it has an unusual report.”

“What of it?”

“Do you mind if I check it?”

“Yes. It has very special significance to me that I don’t think you’d appreciate.”

“Maybe not.” The Dragon said.

“That gun hasn’t moved since I put it there. What’re you getting at?”

“Are you the sniper?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You have the gun and the talent.”

Vlad thought for a moment.

“If I was the sniper, do you think you’d walk out of this store alive?” Vlad knew one of the reasons The Dragon was in his shop was to intimidate, but Vlad robbed him of that and let the tension build for a moment letting him think about the power Vlad had, not knowing whether he would be able to walk out of there alive. Still, Vlad watched his hand in case he decided to draw his gun. “I’m not the sniper.”

The Dragon smiled, “Have you ever thought that maybe it’s one of your teammates who is the sniper?”

“They were my friends. No, I never thought it could be any one of them. There were a lot of shooting clubs around. He could be a local prodigy that no one has caught onto yet.”

“Doubtful,” The Dragon said, “what about people saying the report of the rifle is unusual?”

“They’re misunderstanding what they’re hearing, echoes in the canyons of the buildings, mixing with sounds of machines, traffic amid screams and panic, it wouldn’t be unusual if they were hearing an unusual report.”

“What if I told you we think the sniper is Janus Trimalko?”

“You’re a liar! He was my best friend! I know Janus and he would never do anything like that!”

“He’s killing children.”

This enraged Vlad.

“You don’t know Janus like I do! When he was here, he played with my daughter. You’re going to have to prove it to me!” Vlad paused, silence. The Dragon offered nothing other than the heresies of his hearsay. “That’s what I thought. I’ve known Janus since we were teenagers and national champions when you were rolling drunks and holding up old ladies!”

“I’m head of the local militia.”

“I know who you are and what you were. Do you think any of that will impress me? Or do you think you can scare me?”

“Neither.” Now it was The Dragon’s turn for a pregnant pause, he looked like he was evaluating what Vlad would do. “We could use a man with your talent.”

“How?”

“A sniper, anti-sniper, you’d only be shooting snipers.”

“How do you know they would be snipers?”

“We have our intelligence sources.”

“I’m not a hired gun. Killing is easy, pull a trigger and somebody dies.”

“You think too much about it.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

“There would be a bounty for each sniper you killed.” The Dragon looked around the store, “and it looks like you could use the money.” Vlad wondered how this little man could engender trust for others to follow him.

“I’m not a mercenary either.”

“What about a patriot?”

“There are no patriots anymore, only self-serving men and their minions.”

“Not even you?”

“I’ve done my service for this country. What about you?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to!” The Dragon roared, vaingloriously. There was no snap of the dragon's tail to be feared.

“I know who I’m talking to The Dragon, now get out of my shop you little thug! I don’t want to see you around here or my family again!”

“You’re nothing but a washed-up hero, your time has passed. See you around.” He glanced over at Hugin and Munin as he started to walk out of the shop, Vlad noticed.

“And that goes for my friends too, if anything happens to them, I will hold you responsible.” The Dragon walked towards the door trying to regain his false sense of dignity and self-importance with every step.

After he left Vlad let out a sigh, he felt the room depressurize. “You better be careful Vlad you can’t mess with people like him.” Hugin said,

“He knows I’m a better shot than him.”

“With a rifle yes, not a pistol, close up.”

“He’s watched too many American western movies. He’s only dangerous when he has his militia around to do his dirty work.”

“If you let it become your war Vlad, you’ll find yourself drawn into it and forced to pick a side.” Hugin said, “we’re old, we’ve seen war, they should not be fought unless they have to be, and too many don’t have to be.”

“The old rivalries are rearing their heads again. It’s a way of life people understand, the communists could tamp things down for a lifetime or two, but it’ll take many generations to forget.” Munin said.

They were right, Vlad didn’t have to fight the war, his anger waned, the adrenaline drained out of him, he was suddenly worn out. He sat down at the table with Hugin and Munin, he wanted to change the subject to something light, glib, anything but the war, but he couldn’t think of anything else, thoughts of war and snipers crowded everything else out.

BIO: Jim grew up in Chicago in the 60’s, although he missed all the cool things. He spent his time reading his grandmother’s library of first editions of Twain, Dickens, Conrad, Conan-Doyle, and having his own backyard adventures. He’s lived in Los Angeles for a bit in the 90’s, visited New Orleans, Mexico, France and Germany, usually when he didn’t have the money. He did some time as a rock journalist writing The Doors Examiner from which came the compilation “The Doors Examined” (Bennion-Kearney). He’s the author of several self-published novels including Becoming Angel, The Last Stage, two books of short stories, Stranger Souls, and The Lion Communique. He has a short story, Godwired, that will be published in the anthology The Astral Pages: Ghosts, Galaxies and Magic in October 2025 that is from The Lion Communique. Barnes and Noble has been sponsoring book signings in the Chicago area for The Lion Communique with more upcoming and some scheduled readings at other venues in the Chicago area.. If you want to know more about Jim, you’ll find him in between the lines of his stories and at his website: www.jymsbooks.com