by Blake Haugen
“Why are you so determined to defy me with this little poverty handout? Is it that Peterson woman? You got involved with this when you were with her. Are you trying to get her back or something?”
“No Papa. Thanks to you and your friends, she’s long gone. Contrary to what you may believe, it’s nice to give back.”
“You still blame me for that?”
“You don’t?”
They stared at one another in challenge. Neither was willing to change his mind on the bone of contention that had almost completely degraded their relationship. Vanya was never silent about his resentment of Kirill for the situation he had put Persephone in. Unlike other transgressions Kirill perpetrated against Vanya and his happiness, that one was not forgiven.
“If you asked me, I’d say it was a good thing. Look at what you’ve achieved for your family in her absence. You’ve come back to us stronger,” Kirill commented contrarily.
“That’s the thing, Papa. No one asked you. Now if you’ll excuse me, there are some things I still need to arrange for my event this Saturday.” Vanya turned to his computer and began sifting through emails. He didn’t acknowledge his father when he spoke.
“Worry about next Saturday. We’ll need to be on a united front for that deal. Make sure you’re on your best behavior.” Kirill exited quietly, closing the door behind him.
Next Saturday. Vanya thought over the only thing he and his father agreed on currently. The concentrated laser targeting devices presented an incredible opportunity for the Pravdin family. The deal they made the following weekend would be the beginning of their edge in the emerging market. It would push them into the powerful elite Kirill so badly wanted to be a part of. Vanya wanted the power to be left the hell alone and live his life – whatever that may be in the coming year.
Oddly enough, it had been Yulian’s mathematic ad scientific prowess that brought the CLTDs to their attention. He stumbled upon the advances and rumors about the weapons technology at yet another physics conference. Several discreet inquiries and donations revealed the diamonds from the Sakha mines would work with the guns of the small German firm that had created the weapons with the help of a former U.S. contractor employee.
A trade of twenty-five diamonds in exchange for three guns and the research that had been completed thus far was set to take place next Saturday. After the sale of the weapons, a generous cash buyout would secure the purchase of the firm and its resettlement in the U.S. under the control of the Pravdin family. If things went well, Vanya expected the government to be eating out of their hands by the end of the year.
“Mr. Pravdin?” the receptionist’s voice came through the speaker again. “Mr. Kim called while you were speaking with your father.”
“Why didn’t you put him through?”
“He insisted I didn’t. He said…” she hesitated.
“What?”
“He said ‘tell him I said be ready.’ That was it.”
Vanya pursed his lips. “Alright. Thanks.”
Be ready. He was more than ready. Everything in him was aching for this moment.
☐
The next day, Max and two other men escorted Vanya to the airport. They’d all purchased useless tickets to get behind the terminal. Transatlantic flight 24759 from Geneva was set to arrive in twenty minutes. They sat among bored passengers and the scampering children of young families. A curly haired Arab girl played leap frog – presumably with an imaginary friend since there were no other children near her. Vanya guessed she must be close to three years old. Her mother kept one eye on her and another on whatever her husband was trying to explain on their tablet. Vanya watched the girl as well, completely enamored. He laughed jovially when the child plopped down on his dark brown, wing-tip derby shoes. He felt her soft, warm tummy enveloping his toes and smiled.
The girl’s mother was not as amused. She sternly chastised her daughter in a dialect of Arabic Vanya couldn’t pin. After scooping the girl up and firmly placing her in her lap, she looked at Vanya apologetically.
“I’m so sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” he replied, waving his hand. “You have a beautiful little girl.”
“Thank you.”
The couple returned their attention to their tablet, but Vanya snuck glances at the child, who was unsuccessfully trying to escape her mother’s lap. It was precious. They have no idea how lucky the are, Vanya thought. He wanted what they had.
Then he remembered why he was airport, sitting in the general gating area. His envy morphed into anger and he stood, motioning to Max. They moved aside, away from the other two men sitting with them.
“Take me to the security holding area,” Vanya demanded when they were out of earshot.
“What?” Max asked confused.
“Do you think you can get me in?”
“Perhaps, but why would you –”
“Max, can you get me back there or not?”
Max looked back at his companions and then at his watch. Vanya knew he was suspicious, but he didn’t care. He waited for his answer.
“Yes, but I need a few minutes.”
“There’s a good man,” Vanya smiled and clasped his shoulders. “What do you need from me?”
“Just wait here. I’ll return shortly.”
Vanya did as he asked. Fifteen minutes later an airport employee was leading them through the general gating area. The short middle aged man took them to an unmarked door behind some elevators. They passed through it and came to a vestibule and he pulled out a jangly set of at least twenty keys. The balding man didn’t look to be over fifty, but he hunched over the keys, going through them one by one, as if he was stricken with arthritis. Vanya caught himself tapping his foot in impatience and stopped, making an effort to appear outwardly calm.
When the door was finally unlocked, the man let them pass and locked the door behind them. Vanya and Max stood at the end of a long, empty corridor. Yet another door and a hallway to the right sat at the corridor’s other end.
“So, we’re here,” Max stated. “What do you want back here?”
Vanya turned on Max with a scornful glare. “You’ll know when I tell you.” With that, he started off down the corridor and turned down the hallway, not stopping until he ran into someone.
It was a federal agent. The thin, young man was slumped against the wall, clutching a walkie talkie, dressed head to toe in his bureau’s regalia. Vanya advanced on him quickly, delivering the same look he’d just given Max.
“Where is Kim?” he fumed. He stood menacingly over the man, sure Max was following his lead. The man searched for words and tried to stand up straight.
“He’s, um, he’s in Holding Five, but –”
“You know where that is?” Vanya asked Max, ignoring the agent.
Max nodded and Vanya told him to lead the way. They left the sniveling agent shouting behind them. After a couple more turns, they arrived at Holding Five, which was flanked by six or more agents. These men and women, however, were more intimidating than their bony colleague. Their sidearms were visible and their faces emoted alertness and suspicion as soon as they laid eyes on Max and Vanya.
The second largest of them sauntered up to Vanya, followed by the largest and one of the two women. “We’re sorry, sir, but Kim is the middle of the interrogation right now. We were told there would be no interference from TSA admin-”
“Tell Kim that Pravdin is here right now,” Vanya interjected.
The agent looked Vanya and Max over before backing up. The others followed his lead and Vanya waited as they spoke amongst themselves. After a minute of debate, the leader knocked on the door to Holding Five. It opened a few inches and the man whispered into it. The door closed promptly and ten seconds later Timothy emerged from the room in a blue shirt and beige slacks.
He acknowledged the agents with a nod, but said nothing. Unruffled by the turn of events, he went to the adjacent holding room and asked one of them to unlock it. Vanya followed Timothy i
nside, and it wasn’t until the door closed that he saw any emotions in Timothy’s features.
“Just what the fuck are you doing here, Ivan?” Timothy hissed through clenched teeth.
“You know why; don’t pretend as if you don’t.”
“I told you to wait for me before you moved. You could have cost this operation everything –”
“I’m the only reason there is an operation. Don’t forget that. Now, we can do this with as little fallout as possible, or we can turn it into a big fucking circus. Either way, I’m not leaving until you let me into that room.”
Timothy eyed him closely. Vanya knew he was trying to decide if a bluff had been laid before him. He had no doubt that Timothy would come to the right conclusion. The mere fact that Vanya was here demonstrated his determination. His lips curled when Timothy slumped his shoulders in defeat.
“Two minutes tops, no touching, and I’m with you the whole time.”
“That’s all I ask.”
They exited and Vanya kept his eyes on the back of Timothy’s head. He knew Max was staring at him along with the other agents, finally realizing the reason for his arrival. After a short knock, the door to Holding Five opened and they stepped into a stark, windowless room.
Two agents were inside, one by the door, another in the far corner, and both larger than their teammates outside. They rivaled Max in size. The room’s only adornment was the stainless steel table that Ryan Trask was currently shackled to.
He sat there relaxed, unperturbed, and unharmed. He looked like any urbanite yuppie, dressed in a black sweater over a white dress shirt and fitted khakis, relatively unchanged from the last time Vanya had seen him. His green eyes fixed themselves on Vanya with slight interest and then turned back to the wall with disinterest. His unremarkable presentation made him more of a mystery. Trask looked innocuous, but Vanya knew better. He moved into his line of sight and spoke plainly.
“Ryan, I came here today so you’d have no doubt who was putting you away. I’m in control here, and this,” Vanya gestured to the cuffs and the agents, “and them are me being nice. Being merciful.
“Don’t think about Persephone Peterson again. If you come anywhere near her or anyone else in my family, I will kill you. You are a man alone now, and I want you to think very carefully about what that means and how much you value your life. Do what you will, but if I hear one titter about you making a move against me and mine, there will be nowhere to hide before I have you run down, fucked and butchered. Now, you’re more useful to these people – and yourself, I imagine – alive. So, do yourself a favor and do the right thing.”
Vanya observed Trask curiously when he finished. Trask had held his eyes while he spoke to him, but now he looked off to the side as if he were waiting for Vanya to leave. It was anticlimactic somehow, but Vanya found that he didn’t care. His message was clear. He’d just threatened the man in front of federal authorities. He stepped out of the room with Timothy in tow. They walked down the hall from the others.
“Shit like that puts everything we worked for in jeopardy,” Timothy admonished.
“Then see that it doesn’t. Nothing stops cops from doing what I just did. You’ll be fine.” Vanya waited for Timothy to rebut him, but nothing came. “Is she here?”
Timothy sighed and his look of uncertainty betrayed his inner debate. “Here here? No. She’s close,” he replied. “She’s close and she’s safe.”
“Listen, I want to thank you for –”
“You don’t have to thank me. That’s not why I did it.”
“I know. I’m not really concerned with that. I love Persephone and I know you looked after her when I couldn’t. Thanks for coming to me – I know it was hard feeling the way you do about her. Regardless of whether or not you care, you’ve made a friend today. Catching a big fish like Trask is bound to put you on someone’s radar for a promotion. You have my support if you want to aim a little higher.”
Timothy regarded him thoughtfully and then returned to the others. Max joined Vanya and they left the way they came. This time, the little agent watched them with scrutiny.
The drive back from the airport was oppressively silent. Max rode in the back of the town car with Vanya as they navigated the rainy downtown streets. Traffic was terrible and it was obvious they weren’t going to make it back to the Pravdin estate anytime soon. It was Max that broke the silence.
“You hid this from your father well.”
“Yes.”
“You hid it from me well.”
“I had to; it wouldn’t have worked otherwise.”
“True. How did you know Kirill was still in contact with Trask? Or that Trask would even make a move now?”
“I had my suspicions. If my father could get with him once, he could do it again. As for Trask, he and Papa would never believe I’d use Persephone as bait. Getting to her now would be the only time to do so without throwing suspicion on Papa.”
“So, the calls to Geneva, the gala, the construction in that house out there, all of it – all that was just to lure Trask to the feds?”
“Yes; is that so hard to believe?”
“It’s just a lot. It’s quite a lot for one woman; especially one you haven’t seen in four years. What makes you think you’ll be able to go back to the way things were before?”
Vanya scoffed. “It has never been about the way things were before. It was always about her freedom. In a way, I got her into this mess. I owe her this much.”
Max hummed in agreement. They rode along as the rain grew heavier. He bowed his head and then turned to Vanya. “You know your father will be furious.”
“When is he not furious?”
“No, I mean he’ll want some kind of retribution. The intelligence deal he was seeking with Trask was more important to him than even the CLTDs.”
“He can be furious all he wants, as long as he doesn’t get in my way.”
☐
June 23, 2019
“Yeah, it’s good to hear your voices, too. And I will be down there as soon as I have time. If it wasn’t for this job Timothy set me up with, I’d be there right now. They needed someone right away,” Persephone smiled into the phone.
“Oh, honey, don’t worry about that,” Margie reassured her. “Texas will always be here. We’ll always be here. You just get settled into your new job, your new apartment, reconnecting with your friends, maybe that cute boyfriend –”
“But stay away from any dangerous people, um, in the city,” Peter cut in.
Persephone rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted “and I’ll see you soon!”
“We know, honey bye-bye. We love you,” Margie finished.
“I – I love you guys, too.” Persephone took the phone from her ear and ended the call. The Bensons were the first of the calls she had to make now that she was back in the States. There was no doubt Margie was calling John Mark and Emma and telling them to arrange dinner dates with her. She might be able to fit them in this week, but there was no telling what would be possible because of her crazy work schedule.
Timothy had hooked her up with a job with a corporate firm in the city. She had started Friday, the day after she landed, fighting jetlag and working long hours on her first case. Even though it was now Sunday, she planned on going in to work this afternoon. Today was the first chance she’d had to breathe and take care of herself, so she took the time to speak with the Bensons.
As she’d suspected, a lot had changed during her time away. Zenovia had passed away a year ago. She’d kindly left some of her effects for Persephone. It was comforting to know that she’d died peacefully in her sleep.
Finn was living on the West Coast for a while. Timothy informed Persephone that she’d amicably broken off an engagement with Lauren Vickers two years ago. Emma had enough gallery work to quit waitressing. John Mark married Ariana three years ago. Everyone was moving along just fine.
Persephone was afraid to see who else had moved on. She knew she had
no right to Vanya – she’d certainly had partners since they’d broken up. That’s all they were though. Random dates and dalliances to satisfy carnal needs; none had come close to what she’d experienced with him.
Just the thought of Vanya caused her anxiety. Did he know she was here? Timothy had been vague about the details of what led to the apprehension of Ryan Trask and his affiliates. If Vanya did know she was here, would he know that’s why she was able to come back? Did he think of her? Did his insides roil when someone said her name? Four years didn’t mean shit on her end. She could admit that she still loved him – quietly, at night, to herself. All weekend she’d wondered if he felt the same, and if he was still the man he once was.
Persephone looked at the laptop on her kitchen counter. If she really wanted to know, she could ask the Internet for help. In all this time, she’d refrained from looking him up, knowing it would remind her of what she’d lost. Now that she was home however, the nagging potential of some interaction with him – a coffee, a quiet dinner, a chance meeting on the street – made web stalking Vanya irresistible.
She started with the business sites. It seemed the Pravdins had expanded their holdings into natural gas processing shortly after she left. Vanya had made that move and was still making money hand over fist, usurping his father’s leadership in the process. Good for him, she thought. Without her in the picture, Vanya had taken the reigns of his life.
The society pages were next. The screen flooded with images of Vanya at galas, garden parties, and banquets, towering over everyone he was pictured with. Most of the people were business colleagues, but a few clinging companions made Persephone look twice. The most recent pictures were from last night. Apparently, Vanya was now the largest donor of the Learning Law Workshop and had held a gala last night as a fundraising kick off event.
Persephone smiled. There was no way he’d done that without thinking of her at least once. She’d introduced him to the afterschool program. Her vain glee diminished however, when she came upon a few shots of him with someone named Brigita Skolnik. Ms. Skolnik and her father were also major donors to the Learning Law Workshop. The two were pictured with Vanya twice; once with others, and another with just the three of them. Both images showed Brigita firmly fixed to Vanya’s side, his large hand placed on her impossibly thin waist and her hand draped over his chest. The next photo was of the two of them.