by Jack Parker
"Is that all there is?"
She paused a long moment, looking at him hard before slowly shaking her head. "…No. My position under Aleksei was once a tad more dignified. I was his spy. When I came back to him begging for my old job this was the only task he saw fit to give me."
"And you think he'll reinstate you for completing it?"
"He'll have to," she replied. "As far as I know it he hasn't got any other native Britons who can speak Russian so convincingly as to feign origination. If he wants to get close to the men whose names are on Malcom's list, he'll need me to do it. If I can manage that, then perhaps I'll have gained his approval back for good."
"So this is all for him," Emery mused with a quirked eyebrow.
Georgie blinked, then reeled back a bit. "It isn't as romantic as you make it sound. Having Ludkov in your corner is a good bet for survival and I'm going to bloody well take it."
Emery smiled apologetically and kept eating. "If your old job was so good, why'd you chuck it to begin with?"
"Because I was foolish." She looked off towards the living room. "I suppose you've got to leave your safety net before you realize just how dangerous the world outside of it is."
Emery laid his hand on Fidget's cage. "That's the thing about nets. They break. And quite easily so."
Georgie met his eyes quickly. "Only if you let them."
Emery looked back down at his meal and pushed around a few chunks of potato with a fork. Maybe she was right. He'd gotten so comfortable pretending not to be a criminal that he'd let the legs get swept out from under him. It was shameful to have allowed, but worse still was the fact that he wasn't the one to feel the axe's blow. Instead it had been Kurt. He'd let his past catch up to him and once again his lover was thrust into harm's way on his behalf. His appetite vanished and he cleared his throat, trying to banish the thought and keep his mind focused. "Where did you learn to speak Russian?"
"From a Russian," Georgie said, and Emery snorted. She gave him a cheeky look and took a sip from her water glass. "A Russian Chinaman, to be precise. My Mandarin's not half bad either. My French, on the other hand, is awfully rusty."
"I speak French," Emery chirped.
"Do you now?"
"I was living in Montreal until quite recently," he explained as he leaned forward. "But I was always interested in Russian. Maybe you could teach me a little in exchange for polishing up your Frog-speak."
She smiled back at him. "Perhaps. Sure you don't want to learn Chinese?"
"Can't think of when that would come in handy. At least with Russian I could beg for my life when the time comes."
"Begging for one's life comes across plainly in any language," she replied. "But if the Russians want you dead, they may as well be deaf for all the good it would do you."
"They sound like a charming bunch."
Georgie tipped her glass to him and drank. "Believe me when I say that Aleksei Ludkov is a regular pussycat compared to some of his colleagues."
"Try a Siberian tiger," Victor muttered. "Hey, come look at this. He's been waiting here outside his car for the past five minutes of footage and someone just pulled up."
Georgie and Emery both stood and quickly went to either side of him, bending down to look into the screen at the scene playing out. Malcom was facing a dark gray Lexus that had pulled into a lot beside his own vehicle. Flanking him were two bodyguards, one of which Emery recognized as the mustached fellow from the lounge earlier. After a moment four more men stepped out of the car. One of them, stocky and balding, approached their target and they began speaking in Russian.
"Yevgeny Ivanovich," Georgie remarked, leaning closer with wide eyes. "Aleksei's suspicions were good…"
They watched as the men exchanged some form of goods between hands, followed by a small bag, and then the interaction was over. Emery aimed his finger like a gun at Ivanovich's retreating form and clucked his tongue. "Lessons start now. What's Russian for, 'you're fucked, mate'?"
Georgie smirked as Victor paused the video on the man's image. "Tebe pizdets."
* * *
Victor wasn't totally unfamiliar with sleeping on a couch. Hell, for most of his childhood years living in a one bedroom with his mother he didn't even have a bed of his own. Just a piece of shit loveseat in the living room with springs jabbing him in the back all night. Sometimes in his now ransacked home in Whitchurch he would opt to sleep on his couch even in his adulthood, so crashing on Georgie's oversized tufted velour sofa that still smelled store-new wasn't exactly slumming it in his opinion. Still, it was weird. It made him feel vulnerable and unguarded in a strange place, so he tended to wait until he was sure the others were good and unconscious before going to sleep himself. He still had a lot of material to review anyway.
They'd done a pretty damn good job. Victor didn't know how many names Ludkov was looking for, but Georgie had identified ten faces from their accumulated footage with only three buying off of Malcom that she didn't recognize. Allegedly, anyway. This was all still up in the air as far as he was concerned. Nevertheless he began splicing the footage from the two cards together into one video for convenience and uploading it onto a device for easy show and tell when next they met up with Ludkov. He hoped the big goon would be impressed. The sooner this business was over the better. He stood up from the dining table and shut the lid of his computer, rubbing his face and wandering off towards the bathroom.
When he emerged, he noticed that the television was on. He glanced at the clock, which read 1:03 a.m., and went back into the living room to observe Emery sitting on the couch watching it. Victor snorted and crossed his arms. "Dude. Take your insomnia somewhere else—you're on my bed."
Emery didn't reply.
Victor shifted his weight. "Did you have something on your mind or what?"
Still nothing. The kid just sat there dead-eyed and straight-faced. Victor furrowed his brow, bending over and snapping his fingers in front of his face. No reaction. Well…shit.
"What's going on out here?" Georgie demanded from the hall. She crept out and looked between them curiously. "Would you mind switching that off?"
"Stop, don't…" Victor waved a hand at her, then rubbed his beard contemplatively. "I think he's sleepwalking. Don't wake him up."
There was a long pause. "Sleepwalking?" she asked in a hushed tone.
"Yeah. Fuck, look at him," Victor gestured to him with fascination. "I've never actually seen this firsthand before."
"Why can't we wake him?"
Victor shrugged. "He'd probably be in a pretty murky fucking state and I don't need a repeat of the other day if he freaks out me."
Georgie bent down to look at him too as she waved a hand before his eyes. "Well what on earth do we do?"
"Fuck if I know." Victor went around to the other side and slowly sat down next to Emery. "Uh…Hey Em," he tried.
Georgie sat down on Emery's other side to watch with interest.
Victor cleared his throat. "You maybe wanna go to bed? It's late."
Emery still made no indication he could hear them.
"This is wild," Georgie noted. She leaned closer. "Emery? Emery, can you hear me?"
"He's not registering dick. Totally catatonic," Victor said. He tried not to think that this was sort of cool, seeing how it was usually a sign of severe stress, but…well, it kind of was.
Georgie studied him for a moment longer before leaning in and planting a firm kiss on Emery's cheek.
"G'night, Mum," Emery murmured.
Georgie quickly covered her mouth with both hands to force back a hiccup of laughter.
"Don't do that," Victor sneered, gruffly wiping Emery's face with the back of his hand. "Jesus. You know he's gay, right?"
Georgie gave an exasperated look. "I'd worked that one out, thanks. A man doesn't risk life, limb, and agony for just a 'friend', now does he?"
"Actually, this guy probably would," Victor decided, jerking a thumb at Emery. "But no. He thinks his stepfather kidnapped his boyfri
end. And the fucked up part is he might be right."
Georgie frowned and looked back at Emery. "That's very unfortunate."
"My point is that he's nuts enough as it is, so don't go throwing molotovs at the pile of oil-soaked rags that is his fucking psyche right now."
"He doesn't seem as fragile as all that," Georgie protested.
"You don't think so?" Victor shook his head at her. "Well then you'd better hope you're not around when he realizes he's not going to find said boyfriend."
Georgie settled in on the couch and gazed at Emery for a long moment before looking back at him. "What makes you so sure he won't find him? Emery's proven himself to be quite resourceful so far."
"And you're basing that off of what? His ability to pick a hooker?"
Georgie sighed. "Half the time I think you're his advocate and the other I think you're his adversary."
"I'm neither, I'm—" Victor was at a loss for words for a moment. What was Emery to him, anyway? He didn't really like to think that the only reason he was helping him was out of guilt, however true that might be, but he still didn't know him all that well. Victor looked down. "I'm a guy who did a shitty thing to him two years ago, and he's the guy who saved my life last week."
More didn't really need to be said in that regard. Georgie seemed to understand and backed off the subject. "Ludkov will be impressed with what you've done in such a short amount of time. I dare say he might give you what you want."
Victor looked over to his computer and the flash drive sitting on the table that held their accumulated evidence. "But why? I mean, how could he really be willing to do anything that might jeopardize his standing with Eaton?"
"Perhaps he'll want them to see each other. Perhaps he'll want Eaton to know that he's got Emery under his influence. It might incentivize the man to be more cooperative than he's been in recent years."
"Fat chance. Terms between Em and his stepdad are shot to shit."
Georgie tucked her hair behind an ear and folded her hands into her lap. "That may be so, but Aleksei is familiar with a parent's love. He'll assume it to be unconditional, and he might be right. Word on the street is that Eaton gave up quite a bit of change to have his stepson rescued from the clutches of kidnappers two years back."
Victor watched her for a moment as her green eyes met his, trying to gauge just how much she knew about that. "That was two years ago. This is now."
Georgie moved back to the edge of the couch. "I'm only making suppositions. What are we going to do with him?" she gave a head toss towards Emery.
Victor nudged Emery with his elbow, who was still unresponsive. He stood up and turned off the TV before smacking Emery's shoulder lightly and trying to pull his arm up. "Get up, Em. Come on."
Emery mindlessly followed Victor's pull and made it to his feet. From there Victor began pushing him towards the guest bedroom. Georgie stood and watched curiously, arms folded and bent over a little. "Are you going to be alright with him?"
"Fine," Victor said.
"Alright. …Goodnight then."
Victor didn't look back at her as he shoved Emery at the room, who could only seem to take about three steps before needing to be physically reminded to walk. Eventually he made it to the bed and pushed Emery down on it, where he lay on his side with his vacant eyes staring out at the wall. "You wanna stay here this time?" Victor asked.
"What's your name…?" Emery uttered.
Victor huffed. "Is that a serious question?"
"I'm sorry…about the mess…"
This state was starting to get a little fucking creepy. Victor pulled a nearby blanket loosely over Emery's form and drew back, shaking his head. "Yeah. Me too."
Emery's eyes were already closed.
Chapter 11
Ludkov's drug den was no less tense the second time around when Emery, Victor, and Georgie arrived the next evening. They were met outside by two men who caged the two newcomers at either side while Georgie led them in through another crowd of inquisitive eyes. Eddy stood off to the side near Dave, the former of which exuded an air of indignation whilst the latter shrank into his corner like a fearful hound whose leash had just been tugged at. Emery shot them an apathetic look and continued on after Georgie to the backroom where Ludkov had once more stationed himself.
Ludkov was speaking to a man standing over his shoulder in Russian when the trio was escorted in. He cut off the conversation and looked up as they did so. "Mr. Eaton," he greeted. "Ms. Faraday tells me that there is a development in the Malcom job."
"Yes, indeed there has been," Emery acknowledged.
Ludkov's eyebrows rose and he looked to Georgie. "Am I to take it you have what I asked for, then?"
Emery nodded, making a gesture to Victor. Victor handed him a flash drive and he held it up. "You asked us to retrieve a list of names for you, Mr. Ludkov, but we've done you one better. This is a list of faces."
Ludkov remained stoic and gave Georgie a head toss, who took the drive from Emery's hand and brought it over to him. He pulled a tablet device off of a nearby end table and connected it to the USB port. The man over his shoulder looked down with interest as Ludkov opened the file and observed its content. Emery could hear the faint sound of street noise and voices emanating from the video recording.
For a few minutes they all stood in silence as he took in the information before his eyes. He uttered a quiet sentence to his nearest associate that sounded rather stern and handed him the tablet. The man continued watching it and Ludkov folded his disfigured hands together with narrowed eyes. "How did you come by this footage, Mr. Eaton?"
Emery glanced at Victor before responding. "Malcom's actions were already being tracked by his employer. We merely intercepted the feed and took a recording."
"And how did you manage this?"
"Prostitute," Victor answered. Emery and Georgie both looked at him and he cleared his throat. "Or, you know. Damn good detective work."
Ludkov leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin with a fist. "This is most impressive. I must admit that you were not embellishing your capabilities."
"No," Emery agreed. "On that video you'll find that Malcom is dealing with thirteen separate parties, ten of which were identified by Ms. Faraday here. This was recorded over the course of the past two days. If what you see here is sufficient, then I hope that this proves both my dedication and my worth as a hired hand. If they aren't the names you were hoping to find, we'll continue our investigation at once." He could feel Victor stiffen up next to him in obvious protest, but Emery held a hand at him subtly.
There was a long pause before Ludkov chuckled softly. "You are determined, yes?"
"Yes."
Ludkov sighed. "I see. And I expect that your terms for potential services rendered have not changed?"
"Indeed not."
"Mm." Ludkov nodded to himself and reached over to take a drink off of the table beside him. "…Very well, Mr. Eaton. I will hire you."
Emery felt a triumphant surge. One step closer. "Excellent."
Ludkov leaned up to his associate. "Yuri, bring these men a drink."
Yuri set down the tablet immediately and exited the room.
Ludkov took a swig and swirled the contents of his glass. "I will arrange this meeting with Hunter Eaton. It will be staged as a discussion of terms between our people and his, as he will be expecting this. This is a thing that tends to occur annually."
"And he's certain to be present at these meetings?"
"We do not accept our terms to be conveyed through third parties."
"I see," Emery said. He watched as Yuri returned and handed both he and Victor a glass of Scotch each. "But he won't be alone, will he?"
"This will be taken care of. Yuri will accompany you and he will be briefed. You will get your chance to speak with him alone." He held up a finger. "And you are only to speak with him. This must be clear."
Emery swallowed a mouthful of Scotch and ran the scenario through his head. This was ideal. Hunte
r would not only be unable to retaliate in this situation, but also unwilling if these new affiliations were made clear. And if he got him alone, it would be all too easy.
Ludkov set his glass down and continued. "In exchange, you will pledge to me your fealty for an indefinite period of time."
Emery frowned. "Indefinite."
"Yes. This is the cost."
"So you mean to say…permanent."
"I mean to say as long as you remain useful, Mr. Eaton."
Emery felt momentarily cold. This was not what he envisioned. He was sure that Ludkov would assign him a few more jobs to pay his way for this favor, not employ him on a regular basis. Perhaps they'd done too good of a job…it had made them too valuable to let go. He looked to Georgie, who was giving him a serene face, and then to Victor. The man in question was chugging the entirety of his glass in a few loud gulps with a nervous expression.
Emery drew his eyes back to Ludkov. "Mr. Ludkov, I'll accept your terms under the condition that this offer is for myself alone."
Ludkov glanced at Victor. "You do not suppose that Mr. Scott is a wise addition to my operation?"
"Mr. Scott is my technological consultant, but I'm the one who ran this job for you. I recognized that the tie Malcom wore was a brand of video recorder. I arranged the plan. I obtained the footage you now have. I don't need him to be useful to you, and he's only still here because I'm paying him to be my muscle. With your men on my side, however, he serves no function."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. My condition is that as of this moment he be left unharmed to go on about his way." Victor gave him a grave look before shaking his head.
Ludkov stared at Victor for some time before shrugging listlessly. "If that is what you wish."
Emery nodded. "Then we have a deal, Mr. Ludkov."
Ludkov looked to Georgie and said something in Russian, who nodded and stepped back. "You will stay with Ms. Faraday for the time being. You will have your meeting with your stepfather tomorrow night."
Emery straightened up. "That soon?"
"Yes. Is this a problem?"
Emery quickly shook his head. "No."