“Has he… said anything about me?”
“He hasn’t talked much about anything that isn’t directly about work. Left for a week, but no one is too keen on taking trips in the winter—you know? Waste of time on those roads.”
“Misha… can you tell me anything about all this?” I said with the bravery only vodka could gift. If I were going to see Vitali, I needed something… anything to help me understand what I was signing up for.
“Wouldn’t you rather ask him?”
“No,” I said so quietly that he didn’t need me to elaborate.
“Alright. I’m not going to tell youhrenyou don’t need to know, but I’ll try to answer.”
I took another swig, again for bravery, because it’d been a bad day. “What happened with his parents? What happened in New Zealand?”
He spun the glass, but didn’t drink it. I wasn’t even sure he’d taken a single sip.
“Can’t speak to the first one. I grew up around him, but we were never best friends. Did petty crimes with the boys around the yard. He was quiet, all bruised up, all the time. Snapped, I guess. Still snaps if the weather is right. Would tell you more if I could. As far as New Zealand? I don’t know why you want to know that. Nothing good happened in New Zealand.”
“Misha, I have to live with a lot of things, a lot of things I never thought I’d do. I just don’t… I don’t want to be blind to them.”
He pulled out a cigarette, then paused, looking around. “Can I smoke in here?”
“Mama wouldn’t like it, but…” I shrugged. “Does it really matter anymore?”
He scrunched his nose, but put them away.
“New Zealand,” he said. “It was shortly after the whole—well the whole thing. Police hadn’t taken him in yet, and someone’s older brother knew someone who said they could help. I got curious, and so did a few of the other boys. So we inquired too. That’s how you get stuck in this mess—you know?”
I didn’t. I didn’t know anything at that moment.
“Well, Vitali needed to get away before they arrested him. He really was a bright kid. Didn’t always go to school, but when he did, he was still smarter than us. Maybe that’s why he’s Sergei’s golden boy. Well, the ‘Sergei’ at that time was a man named Kiril. He set Vitali up with a foreign passport and a different name.”
“What was—”
“No,” Misha cut me off, “don’t even ask me what his name was. Forget it. Anyway. Seemed like he wanted a brighter future for himself. Something more than Russia. Well, those who didn’t know better encouraged him. Those who did know better laughed. Someone up the ladder from Kiril was setting up camp in New Zealand. There was some trouble with biker gangs out there, but nothing too bad. So they sent Vitali and two other guys. Naive. Me? I stayed where thepechkais hot. Everyone knows you; no one messes with you. Eventually, you don’t have to shoot—you just show up.”
For someone who reiterated he wouldn’t tell me anything,Misha liked to talk. I didn’t waste that. “How long was he there?”
“A couple years. No one asked after him. I’m going to be honest—I never even thought to ask about him. Like I said, we weren’t close. And then Sergei took things over here in Kurov. And one of the first things that happened is someone in Moscow makes a call and says—wellblyadI shouldn’t tell you this—New Zealand is out, and they’re not going to expand out there. Someone blew the shit out of the offices one fine evening. No survivors. Said it was the biker gangs, but then I hear that Moscow put a hit out on Vitali. So imagine my surprise when Vitali shows up on Sergei’s doorstep with a duffel bag and two Makarovs strapped to him in plain view. Then, one moment Moscow wants him dead, and the next they hand him over to Sergei to babysit, as if he hadn’t just soaked an entire division in New Zealand. No one says it, but we all know that’s what happened because Vitali’s a fucking savant with explosives. All sorts of electronics. That’s why he doesn’t carry a cellphone, you know? Says it’s because he knows how they work.”
I took another gulp, emptying my glass. It wasn’t just Elit, or Pasha. The list was long, undoubtedly longer than Misha would ever admit. At this point, nothing was surprising. It was too freezing in there to be surprising.
“And everyone is a bit wary, because he’s secretive, and one of the first things he does is ask Sergei to find him a tattooist. Tattoist? Tattoer? Where thehrenis there a tattoer in Kurov? So he goes to St. Petersburg and comes back looking like a goddamnmatryoshkadoll. All painted up. So this was years ago. No one knew what to do with him, not even Sergei. So he just let Vitali do whatever he wanted.”
“Whatever he wanted…” I repeated quietly.
He continued, having ignored me. “It was good he was in charge, because he refused to have anything to do with women or children. I don’t think I could stomach what I’ve seen him do happening to a woman or child. And he is good at decision-making. See, most of us don’t want anything to do with that. I’m happy sitting on my ass as the money comes in. I don’t want to deal with any of that leader shit. Then, his numbers started coming in, and Sergei nearly creamed himself. Gave him full access to accounts, stock, and the guys. That’s why I’m here. I don’t want anything to do with women or children either, and Sergei keeps those ventures separate.”
He noted the look on my face, and squinted, thinking. I took another frosty gulp.
“Listen, I’m not going to tell you that Vitali is a good guy, because none of us are good guys. But you should know there is something extra wrong with him. Maybe he was born that way, maybe he came back that way, but there is.” He tapped his head. “You asked what you’re signing up for? Well here is what you’re signing up for. I’m not going to tell you not to—because believe it or not, but it could be worse. And now that Sergei knows about you, it will be.”
Elena’s words whispered faintly at the back of my mind.‘I can’t just walk away from it.’
“What can I say though? Vitali gets things done. And you can’t buy him. If he doesn’t want to do something—he won’t. That’s just the reality of it. Not even Sergei can do much about it, as much as they’re at each other’s throats.” He nodded slowly, agreeing with his own assessments as he stared at the kitchen tile. Was he counting the little flowers too? “And he never gives a job he won’t do himself, so the chances of taking a bullet to the face are lower.” He paused. “Not zero, but lower.”
“How’s your side?”
“Eh?”
