Chapter 57: A Strictly Business Relationship

TL: LittlePeach

Once my juggling act was over, I calmly tucked the grenades back into my pockets, one by one, as if nothing had happened.

No applause, but anyway.

Sure enough, no circus act goes over better with Russians.

"Thank you for your attention. Anyway, I understand where you all stand. Aleksei aside, we all agree on taking out Mikhail, don't we?"

"...That we do."

"Then shall we agree to cooperate just that far? Whether or not Yelena is qualified to be boss can wait. Killing the traitor comes first."

"...Fair point. But who are you, anyway?"

It was the biggest of the three who asked.

He stared at me askance.

"I've never seen your face before, that's for sure."

"Ah, forgive me, I never introduced myself. They call me Sunny Kick. I'm a friend of Nikolai's."

"...What?"

The reaction that came back was far more dramatic than when I'd juggled the grenades a moment ago.

"Sunny Kick?"

"Did you just say Sunny Kick?"

"You're telling me you're the real Sunny Kick?"

The three men who'd been slouching in their conference-room chairs shot to their feet as one.

They all looked me up and down with stunned expressions.

"That Sunny Kick, from Cherny Group?"

Cherny Group was the name of the PMC I used to work for.

I gave the man who recognized me a friendly nod.

"Yes, that's me. You know me?"

"Damn right I do. Every time Nikolai got liquor in him, he'd pour out stories about you."

"Ah."

Cherny Group is a colossal private military company that swallows anything profitable whole, like a whale.

Trading nations across the globe were our main clients, and there I led a team of my own, wiping out the Somali pirates who preyed on oil tankers and merchant ships.

"They called you Cherny Group's Leash, didn't they?"

"Ahaha, that's right."

Hearing that old nickname after so long, I couldn't help but laugh.

Then, out of nowhere, another one of the enforcers walked right up and offered me his hand.

"If you're really that Sunny Kick, do you happen to remember a guy named Vladimir who worked with you?"

Vladimir?

I found myself tilting my head.

"Vladimir... we had so many Vladimirs on the team, I couldn't tell you which one you mean."

"The one who grew his sideburns down to his shoulders."

"Hmm. Vladimir Ivanchenko, maybe?"

"Mm. So you do know him. That's the one. He's my cousin's boy."

"Oh!"

The Vladimir he meant was one of the mercenaries who'd served under my command.

What a small world.

Beaming at the happy news, I clasped his hand in return.

"That's wonderful to hear. We used to call him Bova. How's he doing these days?"

"He's dead."

"Oh."

"Tried to copy you. Threw himself bare-handed onto a Somali pirate ship, got shot, and ended up fish food."

It was not happy news at all.

My bright smile froze right where it was.

"Ah, that's, oh no... I'm sorry for your loss."

"Sorry, for what. If a man's born with a dick between his legs, that's exactly the kind of bravado he ought to die pulling."

"Ahh...."

"The boy is the pride of our family. He used to pass along your exploits to me all the time, how you handled the Chernobog Team, a whole pack of madmen, with a flick of your hand."

"Oh, please. It was nothing. Bova was a good kid, never gave me a lick of trouble."

"Him? Back home, everyone called him batshit insane."

"Really? He was such a gentle soul."

"...?"

I have no idea why my war stories go over so well with Russian men, but anyway.

Thanks to that, the atmosphere turned downright convivial.

Though the three men's warm, lingering gazes glued to me were, frankly, a bit much.

"Well then, Sunny Kick. Good to meet you. What brings you all the way here, anyway? Come to follow Nikolai into our PMC, have you?"

Swelling with a strange sort of anticipation, they began peppering me with questions.

The enforcer with the bushy beard cracked that joke with a booming laugh.

And that's when it hit me.

"Ah."

At that moment, a brilliant idea popped into my head.

Figuring I could milk this for all it was worth, I got ready to lie through my teeth.

"That's right. As a matter of fact, that's exactly why I came."

"Oh, seriously?"

"Yes."

I stole a glance at Yelena, who'd been holding her breath in a corner of the room.

Judging by the way she was pouting, she found being the only one frozen out of the conversation deeply irritating.

I gave her a gentle smile.

"You see, the truth is, Yelena and I are currently dating. With marriage on the table."

"...What?"

"Marriage?"

"Yes. Nikolai introduced us, and we'd just made a serious promise to each other about our future."

The enforcers' eyes went wide.

But the one most shocked of all was none other than Yelena.

Her vivid blue eyes went round.

"So if she became boss of the Bratva, the plan was for me to stay at her side going forward, serving as an advisory board member at Slavia Security. Rolling around in the field right alongside you gentlemen, the way Nikolai does."

"Hmm! You'd take on the role of tactical instructor for our PMC?"

"Yes. That was the plan, but...."

The offer must have whetted their appetite; the expression of the enforcer who'd claimed Vladimir as kin, in particular, changed visibly.

But if I ended the story there, it would all be for nothing.

"But looking at how things stand now, well, at this rate I'd be better off founding a brand-new PMC under my own name."

"...What did you say?"

"Well, wouldn't I? My woman is getting treated like dirt in her own workplace. How am I supposed to just stand by and watch that? If this is how it's going to be, I'd rather set up my own PMC and hand her the boss's chair outright."

"That's...."

"What do you think, Lena?"

Lena.

At my cringeworthy pet name, Yelena's brow twitched for an instant.

But only for an instant; then we held a conversation with our eyes.

'...I won't forget this debt.'

'The finish is all yours.'

Yelena was a woman of exceptional insight.

She understood exactly how the new board I'd laid was playing out, and what she was supposed to do on that stage.

Before long, a meaningful smile spread slowly across her face.

"Yes, you're right."

"...What?"

"Things have come this far anyway. I might as well just quit."

"Yelena.... Are you saying you're leaving the Bratva?"

"Yep."

At her nod, free of the slightest hesitation, it was the enforcers' turn for dismay to spread across their faces.

Not that she cared. Yelena turned to them with a cold sneer.

"You know, I truly cannot fathom how you people can be so out of touch with reality."

"...Out of touch with what?"

"Look at you. You have no grasp of the situation at all. From the moment Aleksei sits in the boss's seat, one week at the most, and the Ivanskaya Bratva goes completely under."

"What?"

The enforcers looked at her in utter disbelief.

Not that she cared. Yelena uncrossed her arms and took a long stride forward.

"Do you remember how you earned your bread before I joined this organization as its fund manager? Gripping guns so cold your skin stuck to the metal, at dozens of degrees below zero, playing subcontractor for the police, shooting people dead for pocket change."

"Mm."

"And whenever you needed money, you'd take a speedboat out and shiver in the middle of the frozen wastes, escorting king crab boats."

The enforcers' brows twitched in unison.

Because every word of it was the unvarnished truth.

Yelena never missed those tiny shifts in expression.

"But what happened once I came in and started working the money? Thanks to the maritime escort contracts I opened up with a British insurance company, you now cruise leisurely across the warm seas of Southeast Asia, raking in a fortune for guarding a few ships. Growing soft and flabby around the belly while you're at it."

"...."

"If Aleksei becomes boss, I will walk out of the Bratva without a backward glance. As you're so fond of pointing out, I'm not even an ex-convict, so I can't even be made a full member, can I? Which means I have no loyalty binding my bones to this organization, and no reason to have any."

"That's...."

"If I walk out with every last one of my funding lines and my connections, can't you see plain as day where the poor soldiers under you will be earning their living from now on?"

The brows of the three enforcers, immovable until now, began to churn violently.

But her barrage of cold, hard facts didn't end there.

"Well, good for you, really. Men who love clinging to those musty old rules as much as you do, I'm sure you'll avenge Viktor beautifully under that chattering weasel Aleksei. The Bratva's doomed soon anyway, so you can wrap up your revenge in style and go out in a blaze of glory, can't you? You have my heartfelt support."

Not her chasing after the Bratva, but the Bratva chasing after her.

Once the floodgates opened, Yelena's ideas surged forward without restraint.

"Right.... Why was I making this so complicated? Rules, traditions, all of it goes straight into the trash the moment the organization collapses anyway."

"...."

"And once the Ivanskaya Bratva has collapsed, I can simply scrape together whatever remnants are left and found a new Bratva. Isn't that right?"

But that surely wasn't the ending she was truly after.

If it came to that, the old renown of the Ivanskaya Bratva would be buried in history, and she'd have to start over from bare ground with nothing.

"But then, as you all know, I'm not quite that cold-blooded. I've spent my own share of time as a member of the Ivanskaya Bratva, after all."

"...."

"In the spirit of carrying on Viktor's legacy, and for the sake of everything we've been through together, I'll give you one last chance."

Just as a heavy silence took hold of the room...

Clap!

Yelena brought her hands together, loud and sharp.

"I never had any intention of demanding some pathetic camaraderie or loyalty from you in the first place. I bring you jobs that pay, and in exchange, you pay me in force of arms. That's all our relationship ever needs to be."

"...A strictly business relationship, is that it?"

"Exactly. What I'm ultimately after has never been the Bratva boss's seat. What I need is the boss's chair at Slavia Security."

"You need... the boss's chair?"

"My goal is to expand beyond Vladivostok, bit by bit, until one day I've built a PMC that spans Russia, Mongolia, the Middle East, and the whole of pan-Asia."

"Hmm...."

"And of course, that's not the end of it. That's only my first objective; my ambitions lie somewhere far higher."

Her point was now crystal clear.

Remain the Ivanskaya Bratva.

Or be reborn as Slavia Security.

"So decide. March forward under me into a prosperous future, or scrape by under Aleksei, drifting from one wretched piece of contract work to the next."

Stay chained to the old rules.

Or head for paradise.

"Right now."

As the elephant's foot cast its shadow over their heads, the eyes of the three men began to waver.

*****

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