Pegorino missed. Maybe he was shit at shooting or that was a shit gun, but he had missed. Roman was fine. Kate was fine. Mallorie, too. He praised whatever deity saved his girlfriend's life. He didn't like this whole situation. He didn't like his life. He had to let go of the criminality, but, and this is an enormous but, it's not like Niko could let the swine get away. He hopped in a car, it turned out to belong to the priest, and chased Pegorino around Castle Gardens. Niko was outgunned and outmanned. He was not, however, outmatched. He caught up with the weak mobster in the Castle Tunnel. He shot him and shot him and shot him until the enemy fell to his knees. Niko was usually intense when he ended a target giving in his own word 'longwinded speeches to see the enemy off to hell'. This time he only let Pegorino grovel for his life. It was more like an old man ranting, really.
"You know that deal with Rascalov didn't happen because of you Niko. And for what, you were my best earner. An asset. I went down to that church to teach you a lesson. No one fucks with Jimmy Pegorino. Dmitri found that out the hard way too. He tried to clip me, so I clipped him. Birds of a feather flock together. Well, all I ever flocked with was fuckin' vultures. The whole flock was full of carrion eating scum. I provided, made life better for everyone. I gave people more than just fucking bread. They had wine with me too. Good wine. Wine made from only the best grapes. But that wasn't enough, all the fucking greed. That was never enough for the fucking vultures. The snakes! They wanted more and more and more. So they turn state's witness. They wanted to save themselves so they became wards of Alderney. Alderney didn't really have their back, you know. And now here I am about to be shot by some fucking Eastern European hood who I help bring up. No dues, no tribute either you fucking rat. Well, just put me out of my fucking misery, you backstabbing piece of shit!" The last sentence sounded hysterical to Niko.
"With pleasure," Niko Bellic said unflinchingly, expertly dispatching the Italian mobster with a bullet to the head and another to the heart. The feeling of firing the pistol in his hand was always a powerful thing. The part he hated most was the blood splatter. It always felt like, in American terms, warm maple syrup dripping down your face. The smell and the sight were fine. It was the metallic, acidic taste in his mouth always made him grimace. The body stopped twitching after a while and Niko departed taking a briefcase with $750,000 inside. Thankfully, the key was in the lock. That, uh, acquisition' brought his balance to $2,034,218. There the body lay in the middle of the Castle Tunnel. Nobody would miss him. Not even his wife. She was already having a torrid affair with the pool boy.
Needless to say, there was no reception that night. Or the next. I happened the next Friday night. Somehow, Mallorie had convinced Kate to come. She said, "She was at the wedding. She deserves her cake." It was a hassle to get it set up, too. The caterer and DJ both quit after the incident. They had both voided their bowels and fled from embarrassment and fear. Niko paid for the whole thing. He did so mostly out of guilt. "If I hadn't been there, nothing would have happened," was his reasoning. Mallorie tried to assuage his guilt with a genuine sentiment. "Who else can say that they had bullets to celebrate their marriage? All they get is rice." That didn't make it any better for Roman or Niko. Roman was surprised that he hadn't emptied himself. He was used to being shot at by now, he supposed.
When that Friday night arrived, the spring air had enveloped the city. The sun was staying up longer and the temperatures were getting warmer. The night air still had the presence of old man winter. Kate came begrudgingly and was looking beautiful. Niko gathered the courage. "Xраброст, Нико, храброст." Courage, Niko, courage.
"Kate, can I talk to you." He said his accent thick. The more nervous he got, the thicker the accent.
"Fine." She sounded angry. They both walked through the dance floor and to the back of the reception hall. The music was blaring and the beat was reverberating in both their ears in an unpleasant way. She almost had to shout to be heard. "We need to talk about what happened at that wedding. Packie's going crazy with fear. He was sitting on the sofa crying until I walked in. He hadn't hugged me that hard in years. Tonight we're going to act normal. Tomorrow morning were going to have a talk."
"You can come to my place," Niko said, earnestly suggesting.
"No, that is out of the question! Niko, we have to go someplace neutral, but discreet." The gears started turning in her head. "Maybe Middle Park, I'll call you tomorrow to set something up."
She walked away with the power. Niko's mouth was slightly ajar at her terseness.
Awhile later, there was a toast. Niko noticed that Mallorie's champagne glass was filled with water. Mallorie made the announcement that she was expecting. Roman nearly fainted afterwards but Brucie caught him in mid-descent. He was happy, really happy. He was finally going to have child. Niko was happy too, and a little… envious. Kate was glad for the couple.
"Maybe one day, that'll be me," she thought. "Maybe."
The next day dawned warm, sunny and damp. The warmth would have been pleasant, if not for the high relative humidity. It was one of those days when one knew there would be a thunderstorm in the afternoon. It was June 2nd, and the high for the day was eighty-eight degrees. The humidity made it feel like nearly 100. Kate kept her promise and called Niko at 10:30 in the morning. She said that he should pick her up and that they would drive to Hove Beach to talk. Niko agreed. There were no more enemies down there. Well not anymore. He chose the car Bernie had given to him. When he wasn't on a job, this was his regular car. There wouldn't be anymore jobs, so he was now a one car man.
When he arrived on Savannah Avenue she was wearing a light green sweater and a light yellow shirt underneath. She was wearing blue jeans. Niko had shown up in some clothes he purchased from MODO. Normally, on one of their other 'outings' she would have complimented him. Now, her face was tense. They had hardly exchanged a word when he was driving down Dukes Boulevard into Cerveza Heights. The drive continued as the road turned into Montauk Avenue. Hove Beach was very near and the smell of hotdogs and ocean blended with the scents of Traditional Eastern Europe. Crockett Avenue was always busy, but Niko found a spot that day. They both stepped out of the car. Niko, having watched the traffic, was still nearly run over. "Only in America do they let blind people drive," he half-shouted. Kate could only chuckle in response. Niko was grateful for that. Maybe this conversation wouldn't be as bad as he thought. That is to say, that the talk would be lighter than expected. They walked down to the sand, bypassing the now operational, and thus noisy Funland. The Liberty Eye was spinning and the rocking cars were sliding on their curved tracks. There was a lot of excited noise coming from the Screamer as the car started its descent. They walked along the wooden platform towards the sound. Kate had her hands in her pockets, and Niko did the same. They walked down to the benches that had the view of Lower Algonquin. It had a perfect view of the bench where Dmitri was that day he betrayed Faustin.
"Niko, you're going to have to be completely honest with me today. You're the first friend in a long time who I felt, I need to talk to," she took a deep breath and continued. "Who is the man that shot at the wedding?"
"Kate… I can't explain that, unless. I start from the beginning, here in Liberty City." He was flustered because he was going to start from the beginning:
"I arrived in this country, in this city, at East Hook on the Platypus. You know that ship where the captain and first mate were found dead. But I didn't have anything to do with it. I swear. I got here early on a Tuesday morning with no money and very little English. I thought I was coming to Liberty for liberty and luxury. My cousin, Roman, had told me in his many emails that he was very successful. He said he had a mansion and cars and woman. When I stepped off of the boat he wasn't there. I waited for a few minutes and he came, speeding down the dockside in a cab. He was so drunk, I have no clue how he even made it. I asked him why he was in a cab, he said the sports car was in the shop.
"So we drove for only a few short minutes when we arrived at the 'mansion' in Hove Beach," he sighed.
"Mm-hmm, I'm listening, not judging," she said looking into his eyes.
"Thank you," he was thankful, "Well, that mansion turned out to be a shithole. The cockroaches were bigger than us. We went upstairs and I got my first American money from Roman, twenty-five dollars. It was a ten, two fives, and five singles. I know I was involved in the slave trade before, but the American money was always reserved for the bosses. I only ever got Euros and dinars. That's when I started doing odd jobs for Roman and later Jacob, the Rasta you met at the wedding. I even ran fares as a taxi driver. I had my first American girlfriend, too." Her ears perked up.
"Her name was Michele and she lived on Mohawk on Rotterdam Hill. She seemed to be a good listener and kind. Our first date was at that bowling alley right down the pier. We dated for a several weeks and I really got to like her." Niko was smiling as he said that.
A strange feeling came into Kate's gut. She wasn't quite sure, but it felt like jealousy. Jealousy. She thought to herself," You can't be jealous of one of his old flings. You two are just friends. Right… just friends. She and your man were just friends. Alright? Wait… your man. No, Niko is just your friend. Your boyfriend. NO a friend who just happen to be a boy… a man. Your boyfriend is a man. HE'S NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND. He's just your friend."
"Are you alright?" Niko asked with a concerned look on his face.
"Of course, why do you ask?" she sounded flustered.
"Because you're blushing." He said.
"It's just hot, is all," face still aflame.
"Why don't we go to Bart Street and grab some lunch. I'm buying." He could handle all the dates for the rest of his life with his newly acquired money. He hoped that there wouldn't be to may more.
"Damn right you are." She said exhaling in relief. She thought for a second that Niko saw right through that.
They decided to walk down to the restaurant. It was only a block away and Niko could show her the old apartment and Comrade's Bar on the way to the diner. Niko was greeted by the same rude hostess as they took a seat at the second booth from the back. The hostess/waitress took their orders while popping pink bubblegum and stretching wads of it out of her mouth with her pencil. It was one of those diners that had the full menu on the placemats. Kate ordered a chicken Caesar salad and a sprunk soda. Niko ordered the same.
"Coming right out. We'll try not to drop anything on the kitchen floor. No guarantees," She said laughing, almost skipping away. She didn't know but that caused a major deduction in her tip from $30 to 30 cents.
When the food arrived, Niko was surprised to discover no hairs or rat droppings. The meal was silent. Kate was still trying to stop herself from putting the word 'boy' next to the word 'friend' in her head. Niko was sweating bullets over how to explain how her brothers were involved in his long story. He figured that he could, however, tell her about how Michele was really Karen.
The visceral feeling, jealousy, in Kate's gut did not subside that much. Maybe twenty percent, more like ten.
"So you mean to tell me that Francis wanted you to kill Derrick?!" She whispered hysterically, gesticulating violently, on the bench by the seaside.
"Yes, he did," Niko said, avoiding the questioning and watery eyes of his girlfriend, "He was going to give me a handsome amount of money to do it, too."
"What did you do?"
"Well, I had to think about it, I couldn't call Packie. That would have crushed him."
"So, what did you do?"
"I aimed my rifle and I shot in the benchspace between them."
"They got the message and walked in opposite directions."
"You did the right thing." She was grateful that he found a way to prevent killing anyone. Though after, hearing the story she would have preferred, if she had to pick, that Francis would have been closely acquainted with the bullet. She had the urge to acknowledge that thought vocally. She suppressed it, mightily.
