I’m not going to fall in love moments before death.
21
Mikhail
I hear the approaching car a moment later than I should have, as evidenced by the fact that my girl jumped to attention first, despite my lifetime of study. She’s a natural at this, I guess, but when I look, I immediately see the vehicle make and know who it must be.
“It’s okay,” I tell Alicia, putting my hand on her arm and guiding her aim away from the approaching vehicle. “It’s an old friend.”
The car comes to a halt and it shuts off, leaving just the dark silhouette inside.
Though I cautioned Alicia, I keep my own hand near to my gun. Petyr is an old friend alright, but old friends can become new enemies. And anyone can be tailed. Especially now, when tensions are running high. Who knows who could’ve gotten to him, and what other enemies I’ve made.
“Mikhail,” comes the familiar voice as he steps out of his car, and I give Alicia a nudge to stand back as I step forward.
“Petyr,” I say as we move to meet in quiet inspection of each other. He’s put on some weight.
“Comrade!” Petyr exclaims, and I can feel some of the tension lift as we embrace.
“You’ve lost none of your strength!” I say in English for Alicia’s sake, and it’s true. Bigger he might be, but beneath that layer of added padding, he’s as strong as a bear.
“You’ve lost nothing, I can see,” Petyr says as he pulls back in his thick, expensive suit and overcoat. Too warm for the time of year.
“Only gained enemies,” I reply, and Petyr nods in return.
“Is always the way for men like us, nyet?” he says, casting nary a glance in Alicia’s direction. He’s all business as usual. “What is the problem you drag me out here for in the evening, Mikhail? You could have been boss of your own territory, need turn to nobody.”
“That is the problem. I turned down the offer when I shouldn’t have. And Gregorovich has made a mess of things,” I say.
“That sounds very serious,” Petyr says, glancing in Alicia’s direction for the first time. “Does this have something to do with your lady?” he asks in Russian, but I answer in English.
“In part, it does. As you know, Gregor had that hit against the Chechens and that congressman, and all has spiraled out of control. He sicced Vasili on me and my girl to cover the tracks, as if I can’t be trusted,” I tell him, a bit of a bending of the truth, but not an outright lie.
But Petyr looks confused.
“Wait,” he says, hands up, “a hit against the congressman? What- you mean… you and Gregor did that?” he asks, sounding increasingly agitated as time passes. He curses in our mother tongue. “Mikhail, do you have any idea what you fucked up? Those were no Chechens! Those were our men! That massacre fucked up our business royally!”
Now it’s my turn to be confused, my brow furrowing.
“Gregor said the hit was sanctioned by you and the Bratva,” I say, and for a moment I can tell Petyr is studying me. Trying to find out if I’m lying. Even old friendships face their tests in this business.
“Mikhail,” he says in a low, tempered voice, “we were comrades in arms through war. New York City would be yours for the taking if you only asked. Are you playing games with me now?”
“Nyet!” I say, falling back into Russian, leaving Alicia out of the loop as I speak, “I passed that chance up, and did Gregor’s orders as was my place. That is the only mistake I have made!” I say, but it wasn’t quite the only mistake. Just the biggest.
I can feel Alicia behind me, shifting her weight from foot to foot restlessly. She can feel the tension, even if she doesn’t understand our tongue.
“Brother, this is serious, if Gregor has done this he is attempting to make a move on the whole bratva,” Petyr says. But then my attention is drawn away by the sound of a crack, like someone stepping on a branch. Petyr hears it too, because the two of us grab for our guns and dive at about the same time. Only I dive for Alicia to throw her to the ground. Except she’s one step ahead of us two old war buddies even, popping off a shot just before I fling us to the ground.
The thunderous sound of guns firing, bullets whizzing past us as we hit the dirt just in the nick of time.
To her credit, Alicia doesn’t scream, and she moves her gun away from my gut so it doesn’t accidentally go off. Her mind is quick, even in the thick of it, but all three of us are at a disadvantage. The lights are behind us, and the gunfire is in the trees. The only shelter is the shed a few yards away and the car. I don’t have to tell her or Petyr—we all start shimmying towards our cover in near unison.