[ WP ] Going about your normal day you 're surprised as the sky goes dark and then is awash with flame . At this moment you know you should have taken your fortune cookie much more seriously .

It was Christmas Eve, and it was the first time I had seen my father in four years. This was fairly normal for us; my dad and mom had split up when I was young, and although he always paid the child support and visited us every two weeks, he just stopped being a major part of my life after a certain point. This had never really bothered me - it was just normal. So every few years we would get together, check up on each other, and so forth. We were both procrastinators so these visits were always sporadic and unplanned. 
 Well, there we were in Christmas Eve in a Chinese restaurant outside of DC. The place was in that proto-busy state that Chinese restaurants tend to be over the Christmas holidays, when they scavenge all of the customers who ca n't go anywhere else if they want to dine out. 
 
 
 Dad looked scruffy, as usual. `` So, Tom, how's Amy?'' 
 
 
 Amy's my wife. She's a pharmacist. Her family's from Taiwan. `` Oh, she's good,'' I replied. `` We really ought to get together some time, have dinner somewhere.'' 
 
 
 `` Yeah, yeah. Definitely,'' Dad replied. We always did this - it was kind of a ritual by now. The limp suggestions of more frequent get-togethers were like political promises; they always sounded nice in conversation and inevitably never actually materialized. `` Food was good,'' Dad said. `` You been here before?'' 
 
 
 `` Nah, found it on Yelp,'' I answered. I noticed that there was a group of men in suits over in the far corner. They were speaking in a foreign language and occasionally laughing. One of them kept looking at me, a balding blonde middle-aged man with a somewhat bland but oddly intimidating face. It only started to weird me out when his chilly blue eyes locked on mine with a predatory, intense focus. He looked familiar, but I just could n't place it... 
 
 
 Thankfully the waitress soon came over to give us our tab. I paid, and my dad shoved one of the fortune cookies my way. `` Thanks, son,'' he said warmly. `` I'll treat next time.'' 
 
 
 `` Sounds good,'' I replied. I opened the fortune cookie, and the message made me blink several times. 
 
 
 *He is the one for you*, it said rather succinctly. 
 
 
 I looked up again. The foreign man was still looking at me as though I were something to be possessed. 
 
 
 I shivered. `` Let's get out of here, dad.'' 
 
 
 \*==============================\* 
 
 
 It was a few weeks later when I saw him again. I was out walking my dog when he suddenly appeared out of nowhere, flanked by two more men wearing gray suits. I recognized him instantly and froze like a deer in headlights. I'm a high school teacher and hardly intimidating, and my first thoughts were that these foreign mafiosos had some kind of nefarious plans for me. I seriously considered dialing 911 but was n't sure what I would tell them. *'' There's a bald foreign guy who really gives me the creeps. Could you come help me? `` * Yeah... that probably would n't work. 
 
 
 The men were now only meters away. My dog went crazy, barking and gnashing its teeth. This was bizarre - my dog loved people. 
 
 
 `` Hello,'' the bald man said with an icy smile. I thought his heavy accent was eastern European, maybe Baltic or something. 
 
 
 `` Hi,'' I replied back uncertainly. `` Er... sorry. Bernie never does this.'' The man still looked so familiar... where had I seen him before? 
 
 
 The foreigner waved his hand nonchalantly. `` It is of no consequence. Do you remember me? Christmas Eve?'' 
 
 
 I frowned, unsure of whether I should admit that I did. `` Uh, yeah, I think I recognize you,'' I finally said. 
 
 
 He nodded. `` As you should. I am very important man.'' 
 
 
 My frown deepened. I had no idea where this was going. `` Listen, I'm sure that's true, but I've got to be going...'' I turned and started to walk in the other direction. *Just get the hell out of here... * 
 
 
 `` Wait!'' came a sudden cry from behind me. `` Take this! It will explain everything!'' The man came sprinting toward me, and extended a letter towards me from just beyond the range of Bernie's snapping jaws. 
 
 
 I stared at him for several seconds. Then, deciding to go with all my instincts - which were screaming'Nope!' - I shook my head. `` Sorry, not interested.'' I walked off in the direction of my home, leaving the three men behind me on the street, and thought: *Thank goodness that's over with. * 
 
 
 \*==============================\* 
 
 
 The letter was taped to my front door when I got home from the walk. With my hair standing on end, I looked around. Nobody was in sight. Frantically, I snatched the letter and went inside. 
 
 
 `` Amy?'' I called out. 
 
 
 `` Hi Tom. How was your walk?'' my wife replied. Relief flooded through me. 
 
 
 `` Fine, fine,'' I lied. I let Bernie off his leash and tore open the letter. It was written on thick, lustrous paper that looked like something you'd write a treaty or a diplomatic cable on. My heart pounding, I read. 
 
 
 `` *Tom, 
 
 
 I will be direct. I can not stop thinking about you. You must know that when I saw you, I instantly knew that you were the one for me. I can not explain it, but do you not also feel the magnetism between us? Come and see me. I must know more about you. I know everything there is to know that my spies can tell me, but I feel I have only scratched the surface. Call the number at the bottom of the paper and you will be patched through to me at any hour of the day. 
 
 
 Yours, 
 Vladimir Putin. *'' 
 
 
 I stared at the paper in disbelief. 
 
 
 \*==============================\* 
 
 
 
 The last six months had been a nightmare. Vladimir was n't just persistent - he was terrifying. The calls had started just a few days after I had receieved the letter. When I stopped answering, it was e-mails. When I deleted my e-mail accounts and started new ones, somehow he found those too. I had to cut off all contact with the outside world. And I would still find flowers on my doorstep every day. Chocolates in the mailbox. Teddy bears in my cupboards. I have no idea how he got those there and do n't want to know. 
 
 
 Of course my relationship with Amy had gone downhill. At first we had agreed to get through it together. The government would n't do anything - did n't want to risk instigating Putin, they said. Diplomatic relations were already strained enough. I just needed to ride it out. But in the end the constant sense of being watched broke both of us down. Amy moved out four months after the nightmare started. `` Tom, I'm sorry, I just ca n't take it anymore,'' she'd told me, tears streaming down her face. I did n't blame her. 
 
 
 The last straw was when they infiltrated my laptop for the eighth time in two weeks. I had installed every antivirus known to man to no avail. Finally I had resorted to wiping my hard drive. This time, though, the screen froze up and the webcam turned on. I had put a piece of duct tape over it the first time, so at least I knew I was n't being watched... thorugh the webcam, at least. 
 
 
 Suddenly the balding, forgettable everyman face that I knew so well now flashed on to the screen. `` My leetle American dove,'' Putin crooned. `` Please, do n't ignore me. I need you.'' 
 
 
 `` God damn you, you crazy bastard!'' I screamed. That was it. I smashed the laptop on the floor and stomped it until it was nothing more than plastic bits and glass shards. 
 
 
 I decided then and there that I was going to make my escape. 
 
 
 
 \*==============================\* 
 
 
 It was the most peaceful day I'd had in months. The California sunset over the ocean was glorious; I did n't miss the east coast in the least. I was living under an assumed name, of course; the Feds had finally buckled and helped me out. I was traveling under the cloak of the witness protection program. My hair was different, and I had purposely put on some weight and got fake glasses. I had been forced to cut off all ties with my life, but that was an acceptable concession until all of this was over. And I finally had some hope that it might be over one day. 
 
 
 My phone vibrated. That would be my handler arranging our next check-up. I reached into the pocket of my khaki shorts, enjoying the feeling of the wet sand between my toes. 
 
 
 Unknown number. The phone was completely anonymous and nobody had it but my handler; officially the number did n't even exist and was supposed to reroute anyone but my handler to another account. So how could I be getting a call from an unknown number? 
 
 
 Shaking, I picked up the call. 
 
 
 `` Leetle dove,'' came the all-too-familiar Russian croon - only this time it was more of a growl. A dark, angry growl. `` I weel not be denied. If I ca n't have you... *no one can. *'' 
 
 
 The call went dead. I stared at the phone in disbelief. I needed to call my handler. I needed to... 
 
 
 Suddenly the sunlight changed - and it was coming from behind me, even though the sun was setting in the east. *What? * I thought. 
 
 
 Slowly, I turned. Over what had once been the L.A. skyline, a huge column of fire was rising high into the sky, a mushroom cloud forming over the orange-red crown of the inferno. I could see the shockwave before it ever hit me, ripping trees from the ground and tossing cars into the air from the freeway like so many pieces of dust in the wind. 
 
 
 *My God, * I thought. *That fortune cookie... perhaps I really should have... *
