by Laura Gibson
Casimir didn’t respond, he didn’t need to, his message was received. Even if Johann wanted to pretend like it didn’t affect him.
They exited the building and Kelly was thankful to take in the burst of fresh air. Casimir walked to the car and slid into the seat opposite his brother, leaving only the spot next to Ryan vacant.
Reluctantly Kelly sat next to his cousin and was surprised to see Ryan was shaking. His face pale in the cool gray light of Kaliningrad. What had happened when they weren’t there?
“Johann was cheating.” Mikhail tried to defend himself with hollow words. Words he couldn’t prove, nor could anyone deny.
Casimir didn’t respond as he looked out the window while the car pulled away from the curb, taking them back to The Reliant.
“I wouldn’t have chanced so much if I knew that.” Mikhail tried again for a reaction from his younger brother.
Kelly saw Casimir clench his jaw and his hands curled into fists on his lap, but he didn’t look at Mikhail. He was angry, but he wasn’t going to take it out on his brother.
They rode back to The Reliant in silence, and once they arrived, Mikhail opened his car door, “Come on, boys, I’ll make sure you get home safely.”
Casimir swallowed and looked away from the window then, “Kelly, stay in the car.”
Kelly looked from Mikhail to Casimir, wondering what he should do. Silently, he looked down at his lap, deciding to make inaction his choice. Deciding it was best to placate the wolf instead of instigate a reaction.
Ryan got out of the car without so much as a word and shut the door with one last plaintive look at Kelly, as if to ask him what was going on. But Kelly had no words for him. No thoughts or actions to put the scared teenager at ease. They were in the same boat now, stuck somewhere between two relative unknowns.
As soon as the door shut, the car began moving again, heading back into Kaliningrad. Away from The Reliant and away from Kelly’s ability to choose.
This second trip into Kaliningrad was a trip Kelly would remember with mixed feelings. Mixed because he wasn’t quite sure if this was the actual turning point or not. Because after everything that happened, Kelly hoped there was still a point where he would be able to turn back. Turn back and save his miserable self. He didn’t want to believe that day was the turning point because that meant he made the wrong choice and he truly was a lost cause. The failure he had always known he was.
Something about the air was darker this time around. Casimir wasn’t smiling. The happy tone he had set once before was taken away and replaced with the grim reality of the other side of things. Things Casimir wanted Kelly to be a part of. Things Casimir didn’t want to admit to.
He didn’t care to hide his displeasure with his brother this time around. His jaw was set, his blue eyes, piercing. He was a changed man. So much different from the one Kelly had first met on The Reliant. But this man, this one sitting next to him, was something Kelly could relate to. For whatever reason, Kelly felt more at ease with the truth in front of him, rather than the lie fed to everyone else.
“You see, Kelly,” Casimir cleared his throat as he pulled a lock box out from underneath his seat, “I need two people.”
He opened the case and removed a pistol, “One, to satisfy the customers and keep them happy.” Casimir clicked off the safety. “The other, to ensure our investments.”
Kelly was quiet as he watched the Russian get ready for his planned assault, wondering where he stood in all of this. Wondering if it was too late to back out and never go to Kaliningrad in the first place.
“This is a GSh-18.” Casimir was looking at his pistol then, “It was designed as a military sidearm, but I find it very effective in my line of work.”
Kelly swallowed but said nothing, listening was his only option. Listening and watching.
“These,” Casimir loaded a clip, “Are 9x19mm PBP armor-piercing rounds, designed for the GSh. People say its not as powerful as the Gryza pistol, but it penetrates steel up to 20 meters and it can cut through class three bullet proof vests, so I’m not disappointed with the investment.”
Kelly nodded, Casimir didn’t keep anything around that might disappoint him. He was a smart business man, he knew how to run a smooth company and he knew where to cut his losses.
“I can’t shoot anyone.” Kelly finally managed to get out even though his voice was shaking and his palms were ice cold. His mind was fine in what was happening in the car with him, but his body had taken a different sort of reaction and he couldn’t get it under control. It was as if his physical being was trying to communicate with his spiritual being and both were at odds with what they wanted.
Casimir gave him a crooked grin out the side of his mouth, “You’re not going to shoot anyone, Kelly, that’s not your job.”
Kelly nodded like he understood, he didn’t, but it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing really mattered. This was Casimir’s show and he was just along for the ride. Even then, Kelly knew he would do what Casimir told him to do from that day forward. Not because he agreed, or because he wanted to, but because he knew it was what he was made for. This was his place in the world. Too smart to ignore and too poor to be found respectable.
“Mikhail is family and will be treated as such, but Johann...” Casimir’s blue eyes smoldered with their hidden rage and Kelly thought for a moment that he was going to say something more. But whatever the thought had been, it crossed his face and was gone a moment later.
The car pulled up back along the curb and Casimir took a deep breath before he got out. One last look at Kelly and then he was walking towards the door, towards fate.
The driver had exited with him this time and out the window, Kelly saw that they both carried firearms. No more waiting around for text messages, no sir.
“Shit.” Kelly whispered to himself as he sunk low in his seat, trying to blend in with the leather, hoping to God that he wasn’t getting caught up in some crazy ass gang warfare. That would be his luck. Goes to Russia to see some international trading, ends up witnessing a massacre. Makes total sense.
Kelly could hear shots being fired before a word was spoken and he counted them. Thirty six shots meant two clips were emptied. There was a pause and then two more sounded off and Kelly swallowed.
Then the car door was opening and Casimir was getting back in, as if nothing had ever happened. His face the same blank slate as before. He put the gun back in the lock box and pushed it towards Kelly, “This one is yours.”
“I thought you said I wouldn’t have to shoot anyone?” Kelly’s nervous heart was stuttering in his chest now, asking his mouth to stop talking, to stop pretending like this was all okay.
“You shouldn’t.” Casimir was straightening his suit jacket now, moving on from what just happened, “But you can’t ever be too careful.”
Kelly chewed the inside of his cheek nervously, not touching the lock box. “And what about those bodies? People are going to find them. They’re going to know.”
“Do you know anything about Russia?” Casimir’s blues eyes were sparkling as he motioned out the window to the driver exiting the building, holding a canister.
He went to the trunk of the car and put the canister away before coming back into sight, holding a bottle with a rag sticking out the top.
The driver flung the explosive at the front of the building and jogged back to the car, pulling away before the first flames had even begun to really set.
Kelly turned on Casimir, “The whole block will go up!”
“Hopefully.” Casimir lit a cigarette and looked at Kelly, “Do you want one?”
Kelly looked at the outstretched hand offering him a cigarette and blinked, weighing his options. He couldn’t really say no now, could he?
Kelly took the cigarette and lit it with his own zippo, “So what would I do?”
“Talk mostly.” Casimir turned to the window, Kelly could tell now that eye contact made Casimir uncomfortable. He never looked at anyone longer than necessa
ry. Was this a character flaw or a weakness? Or did he just not care?
“Your job would be to make people happy. Ryan’s job would be to hurt those that hurt our business.” Casimir took a drag off his cigarette and Kelly realized he had never seen Casimir smoke before. Did it have something to do with the fact that he was perfectly okay with murdering all those people back there?
Was this really a person Kelly wanted to get into business with? Did Kelly really have a choice? The answer to both of those questions was a resounding no, but there was nothing Kelly could do about it now. He was stuck for the long haul.
“Okay.” Kelly cleared his throat and really thought about it. He knew he wasn’t worth more, and now he saw what that really meant. But he could still make decent money and he could do it without having to worry about impressing corporate big wigs. He was only human after all. This was the life he was made for.
Casimir smiled, “Great.”
He said great but Kelly didn’t feel great. He felt sick to his stomach. When the car parked itself in front of The Reliant once more, Kelly got out and vomited over the side of the dock into the water.
Behind him he could hear Casimir laughing.
Casimir handed Kelly a handkerchief to wipe his mouth with and then a mint. They didn’t speak for some time. And Kelly wasn’t sure what he would say once Casimir broke the silence. He figured the Russian wanted him for some sort of mischievous activity, but he didn’t know if he had the stomach for what was being asked of him or not. Never once did morality come into question and that was something that would only bother Kelly later, after the fact. Not before, not during, but after. After he had set his jaw and looked a man in the eyes before someone put a bullet in his brain. Only after he had fallen apart would his thoughts turn towards morality. But now, right then and there, he only thought about whether or not he could handle the pressure.
Casimir sat Kelly down and explained everything to him. Every dirty little detail that Kelly didn’t have the desire to hear, but Casimir needed him to know. How Prescott International was going belly up and Casimir was only there to swoop in and gather the pieces back together for his own moral gain, how Casimir was done for the most part in Russia, he just needed some easy contacts State side to get everything moving smoothly.
Casimir mentioned the Williams and what they had to do with this, he even brought up the fact that Kelly’s sister was a small time drug dealer in their hometown and how that could benefit them later, if Kelly allowed it.
Kelly put his foot down at the mention of his sister, he didn’t want her anywhere near this clusterfuck. He deserved this life, but she had the ability to rise above and be better. She could do so much better than what was being planned for him.
Then Casimir brought up his brother, Mikhail. The drunk. The gambler. The parasitic leech on the company as a whole. The liability. Casimir used a lot of words and Kelly heard every single one of them, letting them sink in and become a part of him. As if he were just another extension of Casimir’s right hand.
“This isn’t something I wanted to happen, but it was bound to come up sometime.” Casimir didn’t look as upset as he wanted to seem, “My brother is more of a liability than an asset at this point in our venture.”
Kelly swallowed hard at those words. Our venture. He was in it now, he was a part of it.
Casimir plucked a piece of lint from his sleeve and flicked it from his fingers, “Do you and Ryan think you can take care of it?”
Kelly set his jaw and nodded. He could. He knew he could.
And so that was where Kelly found himself later, taking care of it. Like he told Casimir he would.
Interestingly enough, Ryan had even less moral qualms than Kelly regarding what they were about to do and so the burden remained in the air, waiting for someone to notice it. Waiting for someone to care.
“This is Mikhail’s fault.” Casimir said as they parted, “He had a choice, he was wrong.”
Kelly stood there looking at Mikhail, wishing the piece of filth would have just listened to his brother, because than Kelly wouldn’t have to do this. He could have done something different to prove he could earn the paycheck Casimir promised him. But like Casimir said, Mikhail was greedy and stupid. Not a winning combination.
“Fuck this guy.” Kelly took a drag off his cigarette and left it there, pinched between two chapped lips, one hand in the pocket of his worn jeans, the other pushing his lengthening hair out of his face.
Ryan’s hollow laugh sounded next to him, a sadistic, sarcastic laugh that could very well mean a number of things that Kelly didn’t want to touch on.
He heard Ryan pull the hammer back on the gun that was pointed at the idiot quivering next to the light pole that served as the only light source on this God forsaken street.
Kelly took the cigarette out of his mouth and ran his tongue over his teeth. It would be hard to explain this later but what had to be done had to be done and that was that.
He knew that in time he would look back at this moment and know that this was the turning point, this moment in time, these short ninety seconds of nothing would be all that he had to think about. But his heart was unbroken, still. No amount of pleading could change his mind or make him go back on his word.
He looked down at Mikhail Volkov and shook his head, “I can’t help you, Mikhail.”
Mikhail, sensing his impending demise, twisted his face into a sneer and a string of vulgarities poured out of his mouth in Russian before he found his English again, “You’re a piece of trash, you and him both. This isn’t going to save you. You can kill me but that’s not going to change anything.”
Kelly felt his head nodding, agreeing with Mikhail. He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t change anything either. You could be as right as you wanted to be, but when someone else was holding the gun, that really didn’t seem to matter.
“You know what I’ve got to do.” Kelly took another drag and felt himself blink as the gun went off.
And the moment was over.
Kelly took another pull off his cigarette as Mikhail’s body slumped over at an awkward angle and he looked at Ryan, “Let’s go.”
Ryan swallowed and put the gun back in it’s holster, roughly pulling his jacket down over it, hiding it. He cleared his throat, unable to take his eyes away from Mikhail’s corpse, the bravado draining from his face as what had just happened really sunk in.
Another drag, another head nod, Kelly was always the emotionally stronger one out of the two. “Come on, Ryan. Gotta go.”
Ryan nodded and rubbed his chin, turning back to the car that all three of them had just recently occupied, back when Mikhail had no idea that Casimir had a different idea in mind for their joy ride. Back when Kelly had a chance to turn back and change his mind.
With a jerk of tight muscles, Ryan pulled open the car door and looked at Kelly. He blinked and said nothing, just standing there, the light of the dying lamp post casting a shadow on his young face.
Ryan was a year younger than him, Kelly had to remind himself, he still had a lot of growing up to do. But what was that saying?
Boys will be boys.
Kelly frowned. That didn’t feel right, but it was.
Bill
Bill The Bull Prescott never liked his name. Not William, not Bill, and definitely not The Bull. But like with all good names, it wasn’t one he had no say in choosing.
He was born to smarter people than himself and he spent most of his time trying to prove that was not a correct assessment. But as the years carried on, he knew that he was unintelligent, lacking the basic requirements of actual intellectualism. Until the age of fifteen he had a stammer, something his father was ashamed of and his mother told him he would grow out of. In grade school, someone tried to start the nickname ‘Slurring Sally’ but it never took. With the help of speech therapy, Bill did manage to overcome, but sometimes when he got really worked up or anxious he would have to bite his tongue, knowing it would betray him if he didn’t.
As he grew into a man of great fortune and wealth his shortcomings were more present than ever, always making their ways to the surface, proving difficult to push down and away. When he was younger, pluckier, he made up for his faults by going up against anyone who questioned his right the Prescott fortune with as much force as he could muster. Giving way to the nickname that he still bore. ‘Mess with the bull, and you get the horns’ his colleagues said, each with a laugh and chuckle, drinking their scotch or brandy. Each looking at him with just enough fear to make him feel confident in himself.
However, the truth remained the same, Bill The Bull Prescott was not as good of a businessman as his father and it had finally caught up to him.
He was older than he wanted to be, he had settled down, married a woman from good stock and they produced one child. One that was even more dense than he had been. The curse of good money it would seem. Always a fact Bill would admit with a sigh and another sip of scotch.
He would never admit to Ryan, but it was Ryan that had driven him to drink. An unfortunate fact that revealed more of Bill’s character than he liked it to.
Ryan was a disappointment. Always had been, always would be. There was no change capable in the boy and although he toed the line at school, he did not prosper, he didn’t not show promise. He was a miserable, spoiled little brat who knew nothing of hard work and dedication. He was the product of poor parenting. He was his father’s son alright.
Bill sniffed and wished that he had been given a different son. Or a smarter one. One that didn’t embarrass him, or harass him, or act like the world owed him anything just because he was born into a private class of citizens. If Ryan was just a little bit more wise in his choices, Bill knew he would have a glimmer of hope. But Ryan was Ryan and that was that.
Now he was sitting in his office, staring at the upstart across from him. The Russian child who had earned a nickname of his own. Casimir, The Wolf, Volkov. He was young and he was vicious. A terrible combination. Adding that to his superior intellect, Bill shivered.