January 3, 2017

Niko could feel the smell of fish and rust entering his nostrils. Port Tudor smelled as bad as ever. Well, in his opinion, the whole Alderney smelled bad. It was mostly an industrial state, poor and decrepit. The Serbian was looking at his watch, constantly checking the time. A blond man in his mid-30s approached him:

"Ugh, hello? Are you Mr. Bellic?"

"Who's asking?"

The stranger smiled and extended his hand:

"Brett. Brett Williamson."

Niko shook the man's hand and said:

"Ah, you're the guy with the flour?"

"Yes, I am. Our mutual friend told me you could help me with protection if I need."

"Yes."

"We bring the flour by ship from Canada. The stevedores and the guys at the customs are in my pocket so you don't have to worry about them."

"So… what do I have to worry about?"

"Mostly bikers. The Angels of Death. You probably heard about them. They hit my last shipment and made off with 40 k's of the stuff."

"Forty keys? Are you fucking kidding me? That's death penalty for me if cops catch me with that amount!"

"High risk, high reward, Mr. Bellic."

"For you, maybe. For me, not so much. Five grand for forty k's…"

"You will get ten thousand American dollars for the first transport, tonight. Consider it a signing bonus. If everything goes well, there might be more financial incentives for you."

"I don't know, man. Sounds crazy. How many of those shipments you brought into the States?"

"Many. Our organization works the West and East Coasts of the US since 2015. We bring the stuff from Halifax to Liberty City and Vice City here in the East and from Vancouver to San Fierro and Los Santos. From Fierro and Santos, the stuff reaches New Mexico and Colorado and from Liberty City and Vice City it reaches Arkansas and Texas. The rednecks love this shit."

"Well, I heard that in New Mexico, people love blue ice more than flour."

"Not anymore. It disappeared in 2013. So, what do you say?"

"Ten grand… it sounds alright. And if you say the operation is good… Fine, I accept."

"Splendid. The first shipment arrives here at 9 PM tonight. It will await you in a Sprunk truck right here at our meeting point. Be there."

"OK."

After the Canadian left, Niko called Dwayne:

"Yes, Niko?"

"I met this guy. Pretty crazy operation he's got here."

"Told you. I know it's pretty risky but…"

"Well, it will be what it will be. Catch you later, Dwayne."

"See you, Niko."

Niko Bellic looked at his watch. It was 10:30 AM. The Serbian started his car and slowly made his way from Alderney to his apartment in Algonquin. He promised that he will take Roman to the Middle Park to play with his little sledge. At the apartment, Roman appeared before Niko dressed in winter clothes and said:

"I'm ready, Niko!"

Mallorie replied:

"Before you go out, Roman, I have to talk to Niko. Let's go in the other room."

After entering the room, Mallorie said:

"I called every hospital in the city. No man named Terry was brought in last night. You promised you wouldn't kill him, Niko!"

"And I kept my promise but I am not that stupid to bring an unconscious, bloodied man to the ER. I brought him to a doctor that patches up guys in gangs. Off the streets, off the radar."

"Gracias a Dios! For a moment, I thought you killed him."

"I told you, Mallorie. I am not that man anymore. Besides… I now have a job."

"Really? See? I told you! People need professionals. Where do you work?"

"Uh… security detail at the docks in Alderney. The pay is good. I don't have to do anything but sit there and look tough."

"You are good at that, Niko. I am so happy for you! Now, you better take Roman to the park. He is getting impatient."

"So, you go to work now?"

"Yes. Today, I will teach the kids at the community center salsa."

"It's good to teach them how to cook. It will serve them in life."

"Ha, ha! The dance, not the food, idiota!"

"Ah, I see. Well, good luck."

Niko left the room and said to Roman:

"Come on, little man. Give me the sledge."

Roman gave Niko the red sledge and the Serbian took it to the car. After Mallorie left, Niko and the boy left too, slowly driving through the snow-covered streets of Liberty City. From the back seat, Roman asked:

"Niko, did you see the Republican Space Rangers this morning? It was so awesome!"

"Roman, a kid shouldn't watch that filth. Besides, I don't watch cartoons."

"Why not?"

"Because I am not a kid. And I don't like the Rangers. Too political for my taste."

"Political?"

"Yeah, politics. The stuff that makes the rich guys richer and people like us even poorer."

"Mom said you were rich once."

"Yeah… that was in the past. In another life. Right now, I have riches of a different kind instead."

"What? What?"

"You and Mallorie. I've learned that no matter how much money you have, how much power… it's worthless if it causes harm to those whom you love. I made a lot of mistakes in the past, but I swore I would never make the mistake of choosing money over people again."

A tear fell on Niko's cheek. Roman noticed that, seeing his cousin in the mirror of the car. He then said:

"Why are you crying, Niko?"

"Sorry… I remembered stuff."

"What stuff?"

"Stuff you need not concern yourself with. Besides, we have plans for today. We go to play with the snow and then we will play bowling."

"Bowling?! Really? You are awesome, Niko!"

"Your father loved bowling. That's one of the traits you inherited from him."

"And my fat…"

"Hey! You are great as you are. And you are chubby, not fat… Oh, we arrived!"

A few minutes later, Niko sat on a bench in the massive Middle Park while watching Roman. He was making a snowman and when Niko asked if he could help him, the boy refused, saying he is strong enough to make it on his own. The Serbian was thinking about the job and the fact that he was back in the game, a game that killed his cousin and left little Roman without a father. Niko's father was a drunkard and he used to beat both his wife and his sons. Niko then remembered his younger brother. He was just 15 when he died in the war, blown to bits by a grenade. The Serbian then took out his phone and called a number he had written on a small piece of paper in his jacket's pocket. After the beep, an elderly woman said in Serbian:

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mom. It's Niko."

"Niko! My boy! How are you?"

"Fine, I guess. I am in a park with Roman. He's making snowmen and I'm looking at him and… I thought about you."

"I am so happy to hear from you, Niko! See, I learned English better so you can be proud of your mother!"

"I'm always proud of you, Mom. How are you? How are you feeling?"

"I feel good. You know, my heart always gives me trouble with I take medicine and I feel fine. It's good that my heart beats so much. It reminds me it's still there!"

"Ha, ha! That's a good one. Hey, Mom… I gotta go. I will call you later."

"Goodbye, Niko! Have fun with little Roman. Kiss him from me!"

"I will. Bye."

Niko would have wanted to talk to his mother for hours but he knew that if he is to get back into his former lifestyle, his family would suffer. If he would die, his mother will suffer and she will eventually die, for none will send her money in Serbia to buy medicine. Roman approached Niko and said:

"Who were you talking with?"

"Your grandaunt."

"Hey, why didn't you pass me the phone to say hi?"

"Because she was in a hurry and you were playing with the snowman. Go on, play with the kids."

As Roman continued to build the snowman, Niko continued to think. Suddenly, his line of thought was interrupted by a snowball that hit his face:

"What the… Roman!"

"Ha, ha, ha! I got you!"

"Why, you little… come on, Roman!"

They threw snowballs at each other for a couple of minutes. It felt so natural to Niko, just like he was throwing grenades. After their fight, little Roman was covered with snow, cheeks red because of the cold. He was laughing. That was the only thing that mattered to Niko: to see him happy. The Serbian then said:

"Come on, Roman. Let's go to the bowling place."

"Alright!"

After he said goodbye to the kids, Roman entered Niko's car. On the road, he asked his cousin:

"Niko, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Is it true that you killed someone?"

"Who told you that?"

"I once heard Mom talk to Brucie and she was complaining that Terry didn't work and we didn't have money and Brucie said that if you got back to killing, we would be rich…"

"Brucie says a lot of things, Roman. It's just the steroids that mess up his mind. I never killed anyone."

"Not even in the war?"

"Hmm… I'll tell you what. Tomorrow, I will take you to your dad's grave. I promise I will tell you everything about the war. Now, let's just enjoy this day, shall we?"

The child smiled and nodded. Niko sighed. He knew this talk would eventually come someday. He feared it. It was so weird for him… In a normal family, the Talk was about the birds and the bees not about mass murder. But their family was not normal. His phone rang:

"Hello?"

"Mr. Bellic, it's Brett. We met earlier."

"Yes. Hello."

"We have a problem. The transport will arrive earlier. It will enter Port Tudor in about an hour. Could you please be there in about 30 minutes?"

"Yes, I will. Goodbye."

"Thank you, Mr. Bellic."

"Little man, I have to go to work. It's an emergency. I will drop you off home."

"What? We will not go to play bowling?"

"Not today. Tomorrow. The boss called me."

"Um… I am sad but I am really happy you now have a job."

"Thank you. I knew you would understand."

After dropping Roman home, Niko drove towards Port Tudor in Alderney. His hands were trembling. It was his first job since 2008. He regained his composure however, as a cloudy mind will get you killed in this line of work. He entered the port and reached the place where he and the Canadian met earlier in the day. A Sprunk truck was waiting for him and inside, a man. Niko approached the driver's window:

"Hey, what's up?"

"Hi, you are my guard? Get in the truck."

After Niko entered the truck, the driver took out a gun and pointed it at him:

"What the fuck?"

"Hands where I can see them! Now!"

Niko raised his arms and another two masked men approached the right side of the truck with AK 47's.

"Get out of the truck!"

Niko complied. He left the truck. The masked man said:

"Get in the back!"

Niko complied again. He entered the back of the truck where Brett awaited him with a pistol in his hand. The Serbian said:

"What the fuck is this?"

"Easy, Mr. Bellic. We are all friends here."

"Friends don't point guns at friends."

"Oh, you mean this? Sorry, but you have to understand. I don't know you that well so…"

"You don't know me at all!"

"Precisely. Now, you might be surprised about all this so allow me to explain the situation. I am not a drug dealer."

"What, you're a cop?"

"No. I work for a Canadian organization whose only objective is to keep organized crime outside our borders… by any means necessary."

"So, you're like… Canada's FIB?"

"No, Mr. Bellic. Nobody but the highest ranking members of our government knows about our existence. And now, you."

"And what do you want from me?"

"There is a certain organization whose extermination is quite problematic for us. Not because we don't have the financial resources but because we can't waste any more men in eradicating it. We lost already five people, some of our best agents. Here…"

Brett showed Niko a picture with a young man holding a baby in his arms.

"This man was Agent Patrick Nicholson. Born December 21, 1987 in Burnaby, British Columbia. He died before his son's first birthday, killed by the leader of that criminal organization."

"It's a shame but what do you want from me?"

"I want you to infiltrate the organization and kill its every member."

"Whoa, man… It's… too much."

"Mr. Bellic, if you don't comply, not only you will die but your cousin's wife Mallorie and her son will die too."

"Don't you dare touch them!"

"Then you will accept our offer."

Niko sighed:

"The history of my life… always working for men who play God with me and those I love."

"We don't play God, Mr. Bellic. We just have an eye for talent. Your experience in taking down organized crime syndicates makes you the perfect candidate for this mission. You destroyed the Pegorino crime family and the Russian mob here in Liberty City. You are simply an ideal candidate, like I said."

"Fine. Tell me about this organization."

"The organization is named Trevor Philips Industries but make no mistake, it's not a legit organization. They specialize in drug traffic, gun running and high level heists. They operate in Los Santos, San Andreas. The leader, Trevor Philips, born August 9, 1965 in Altona, Manitoba, is a complete psychopath, prone to all manner of destructive behaviors. He was formerly a Canadian Air Force pilot but he was discharged and after that, he involved himself with stick up crews all over southern Canada and northern US. Currently, TPI is based in Los Santos but we don't know anything about other members in this organization, except several gunmen and drug dealers we captured in Canada selling the finest meth we've seen since that blue stuff in New Mexico. We need to destroy that organization, not just to get revenge for our men, but to clean our streets from that menace. Mr. Bellic, if you accomplish this mission, you and your family will be relocated to Canada where you will have a legit job and enough money to offer little Roman everything he wants."

"And a few minutes ago, you threatened to kill him."

"It seems you are an intelligent man, Mr. Bellic. You know what's good for you, so you accepted our offer. We will book you a flight to Los Santos first thing in the morning."

"I can't just leave like that! What about Mallorie and Roman?"

"They will come to you as part of your cover. She will be your wife and the boy your son. A family man with no other opportunities to provide for his own except crime. They will love you."

"No, I can't put them in danger like this."

"Then, you will leave them alone here, in this city where you created so much chaos? I imagine there are countless people here just wanting to get revenge on you for everything that you've done. Now, if you are not here to protect your family…"

"Fine, fine. Now let me leave so I can talk to Mallorie."

"You can call her right now, right here."

Niko frowned. Again, his life took a turn for the worse just because of money. He took out his phone and called his cousin's wife:

"Mallorie… we have to talk…"