Romanov stood behind the counter, alone in the dim interior of the store. Around him was food, tools, appliances, the such. Occasionally a customer would come in to either purchase something or escape the cold outside.

It was the dead of winter and in the below freezing weather it wasn't uncommon for someone to freeze to death.

Romanov's dull existence in the shop was interrupted, however, when a young man about his height who looked vaguely like him entered, closing the door behind him and stamping his boots on the floor.

"Romanov!" he half whispered, half yelled, evidently very excitied and out of place in the dreary-ness of the store.

"Dmitri, for god's sakes, what are you doing here during work hours? Shouldn't you be at the plant helping to build those fancy armored suits?" Romanov asked, glancing about. If he was caught talking on the job by his boss he'd be in trouble for sure.

"No, brother, I'm being paid to come and talk to you!" said Dmitri. "And I have good news! I know how to get us out of this hell of a life and how to get us riches beyond our wildest dreams! We'll come back and be famous, and you can finally marry your girl like you've always wanted! Her parents will finally approve of you!"

"What the hell are you talking about, Dmitri!" asked Romanov, intrigued by his brother's words.

"Look, you know that the suits are being manufactured as experimental devices by the military, right? And that the ones that they are making now are for trials? Well, the boss, yesterday, he came to me while is was attaching a motivator unit to one of the legs of one of the suits, and he asked me how I was doing financially, right?"

"Yes, go on..." said Romanov, now more curious than ever.

"Well, I told him that of course, eeking out a living is harsh here, and so he asked me if I was willing to test out the suits in a 'combat environment' for him! I asked him what he meant, and he said that he'll send us into the zone free with no hassles and after a month of living there with the suits he'll get us back out and pay us each forty-thousand Hryvnia! That's nearly three times what we each make in a year! And, on top of that he'll let us keep whatever we find in the zone and will pay for our weapons! And, hear this, brother. The artifacts that you and I have heard of normally fetch upwards of five thousand Hryvnia each because they are so new, mysterious, and rare!"

Romanov was silent for a moment, soaking it all in. "You're saying that you want me to risk everything just so that we can make some money? You want ME to risk my life so that you and I can get rich? Do you know what you're asking of me here, brother? There is an enourmous risk of either of us dying, and what would we have then? What?"

"Look, Romanov, stop for a mo-"

"No, no Dmitri. I'm not saying that I won't do it, but I'm not saying that I will. Come by my apartment tonight and explain to me everything in full. You know me. I'm going to want a detailed explanation of EVERYTHING. Now, get out before the old bastard comes out and yells at me!"

"Alright, brother, alright. Here, I'll even buy something from you so that I don't look suspicious!" Dmitri said, grabbing a candy bar from a rack as he did so.

"That'll be ten kopiyok," he said, reverting back to cashier mode.

"Here's a Hryvnia, and keep the change," replied Dmitri. "See you tonight, brother." And with that he turned and walked back out of the store.

An old lady who had been waiting patiently this whole time then came up to the counter with her goods in a basket.

"Good afternoon, Romanov, how have you been?" she asked as he started counting up all of the items.

"I've been doing good Mrs. Kirok. How has life been treating you?"

"Oh, life has been life to me, Romanov! You know how it is," she exclaimed as she waved her hands about for exageration. "Now, what was it that your brother came to bother you about?"

"Oh, you know, he had another insane scheme to get rich quick. He'll be the death of me, he will."

"Now, now, boy. That's just the way of him. I've known you two since you were little and that boy has always been thinking up crazy ways to live life!"

"Don't I know it," Romanov said as he consulted a book in order to find out how much a diet sausage costed.

"And now, how's Natasha doing?" the old woman asked mischievously with a slight twinkle in her eye.

"Oh, come on, now, you ask that every time you're in here!" said Romanov, feigning exasperation.

"I know, I know!" chuckled the old woman. "It's just because I want the two of you to be happy with eachother!"

"Well, if you must know, she is doing fine. In fact, I'm thinking of approaching her father for her hand in marriage soon. I just hope he'll agree to it." He looked at the total for a moment. "That'll be nine hryvnia and seven kopiyok."

"Really? But it says ninety-seven kopiyok there," she said, pointing at the register.

"I know. Dmitri bought a candy bar and left me the ninety kopiyok. I'm just giving something back to you after all you've done for me over the years."

"Well, now, isn't that sweet of you?" the old lady said as she took the money from her old, worn out purse. "And, don't worry about her father. He's a good man, and I've talked with him about you. He definetly wouldn't mind you becoming a son of his is all that I'm going to say."

"You've been talking to him about me! Oh, geeze, what would I do without you? My life would be so much harder if it weren't for you!"

"I know that, dearie. Your mother did tell me to look after you, after all." With that the old woman grabbed her basket of groceries. "Alright, Romanov, I'll see you again next week. I'll be expecting to hear what it was that Dmitri concocted this time!"

The bell rang as she walked out into the late afternoon cold.