Disclaimer: I do not own GTA IV, Niko, or any of the other characters being portrayed.
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Chapter 2: Old Friends
(THREE YEARS LATER)
Niko Bellic was a very rich man. Having worked hard for the notoriety that his name carried, he was as greatly respected as he was feared. Although known for being brutal and relentless, he possessed a calm demeanor and a keen intelligence that had impressed the Russians. Their trust had opened endless doors for him and thereby enabled him to locate the man that had initially brought him to America seeking revenge.
His name was Darko Brevic. Although Niko had come to America seeking a distraction from the pain of what he had witnessed, the men he had lost, and the guilt of what he had done himself during the war- he still had to deal with that dark part of his past before he could heal.
It felt like yesterday when he had found the man a year ago, hoping to finally get the answers he had been longing for. But there were none to be found. Darko Brevic was a broken man. The haunted look in the man's eyes kept him up at night still. His grim demeanor. That sullen gaze shrouded by dark circles and bags under his eyes. He was had only been three years older than Niko's thirty three years, but he looked to be about fifty.
Niko and Roman had found him at the airport. Niko walked up and immediately slapped him in the face with his pistol.
"We all were friends. We grew up together!" Niko yelled as he stared into Darko's blank face.
"We were friends, but I had other friends too." He replied. Niko spat at his feet.
"When everything you believe is shown to be shit, you make strange choices, I guess."
"Strange choices?" Niko queried. "How much?"
"A thousand."
"A thousand?" He roared.
"Hypocrite!" Darko growled back, "What about you? How much are you charging to kill a man?"
"That's different." Niko muttered darkly.
"Is it really, comrade?"
Niko's hazel eyes snapped up to meet Darko's own striking blue ones. He had admitted that it was all for a heroin addiction that had ruined his life. He lost everything that had mattered to him and spiraled into a dark depression that left him even more damaged than the guilt plaguing his mind every day. Niko was bewildered. He had spent all this time looking for this man to fight his own demons and in the process had he really sunken that far in his quest for revenge?
Glancing at Roman, he paused, uncertain of whether he should kill the man or let him continue to suffer. Roman watched his cousin warily and when he felt Niko's eyes on him, he looked up into his face but said nothing. These were men that Roman had grown up with too. Darko, the last survivor from their old gang, outside of Niko and his cousin.
Darko had called him a hypocrite for what he had been doing in America and it didn't sit well in Niko's gut. Niko killed strangers for money, not men that he had broken bread with. Not men that he had slept huddled together with under the dark cover of the night, not men he had attended school with, and not men that he had trusted to have his back.
He raised his gun, pointing it squarely at Darko's forehead.
"Thank you…" Darko whispered as he stared back into Niko's face.
Niko immediately lowered his arm and the first shot hit Darko in the shoulder.
"Argh." He groaned as he reached up to grip his bleeding limb.
Niko quickly fired the next into his other shoulder. Then one to his spleen. And one to both knee caps. Finally he collapsed. Niko raised him arm to aim between his eyes, then decided to shoot him six times in the chest.
He had shot him twelve times. One for each man of his squadron that had been killed and betrayed. Roman stood off to the side and flinched with every echoing gunshot in the cargo bay at the airport. The short man had dropped to his knees before collapsing with shuddering breaths as he succumbed to the cold bitterness that awaited him as his eyes slowly closed for the last time.
Niko stared hard into his pale blue eyes for a moment, before walking away and leaving him to bleed out cold and alone. He thought that in killing Darko that he would have finally found peace. But he couldn't quite place the emotion he felt panging at his chest. He had expected relief as the burden was lifted from his shoulders. Only the aching silence in his mind greeted him as he thought of the man's sad lonely eyes. They weren't the eyes of a killer. They were the eyes of a hopeless man, the eyes of a now lifeless man.
"How do you feel?" Roman asked as he touched his cousin's shoulder hesitantly.
Niko glanced down at his clean hands for a moment.
"Empty." He had replied.
He had long since moved out of the tiny apartment he rented in Broker with his cousin when he had first arrived in America.
Changing his number and relocating to South Bohan almost three years ago had been one of the best decisions he had made in securing his future. Living in that tiny little dead-end district seeing the same people with the same problems every day, was so discouraging. It was just like being back at home with his mother. He didn't want that for himself. He came to the land of opportunity for a successful future, not to be anybody's pawn and most certainly not to become stagnant in the game.
He moved into his current place a year ago. He now owned a penthouse in Algonquin with a giant flat screened television, a pool table, and a hot tub. If only his father could see him now. He obtained the place as a gift for killing a man named Playboy for Dwayne and had filled it with everything he ever wanted. Dwayne ran a cocaine smuggling business and owned a couple strip clubs in Liberty City. The man was currently in prison, but with Playboy out of the picture Dwayne still called the shots and he was grateful for Niko's help in maintaining his place in the industry.
Niko was currently playing pool with Jacob, while his cousin Roman sat planted on the leather couches watching two bikini clad women wrestling on the large television screen.
"Cousin, look at these titties!" Roman exclaimed.
Meeting Jacob's eyes, Niko just shook his head as his friend chuckled heartily. Taking another shot of his vodka, he turned back to the game and leaned over to line up his next shot on the billiard table, when the television suddenly blasted with a special report.
Frowning, he stood up when Roman started yelling and threw a pillow at the television.
"Stop throwing shit." Niko said.
"Cousin! You don't understand." Roman bellowed. "I waited all week for this. It was one hundred dollars for the match."
"How you pay one hundred dollars on my tv? They charge your account?" Niko questioned.
Roman's ears turned red as he chuckled nervously and turned away.
"You made my man Niko pay for that?" Jacob chuckled, "We could have just gone down to see the girls at Dwayne's club for free."
"The girls at the club aren't wrestling." Roman pouted. "It's not the same."
Glancing up at the television, Niko froze. There was a picture of Kiki on the screen. He couldn't hear what the reporter was saying because Roman was still protesting the change in programming.
"Shut up!" Niko growled and both men stopped talking immediately. Niko was usually the calm one, but something had him worked up. Turning to look at the television they both just glanced between the screen and Niko's haunted face as he glared at the reporter's image that was now featured in the center as Kiki's face was reduced to a small image in the corner of the television.
Again, for those of you just joining us. Anyone with any information on Kiki Jenkins, the lawyer from Algonquin, please contact the missing person's hotline at the number featured at the bottom of the screen. Police don't have any leads, but the lawyer has been reported missing since Tuesday when she was last seen by her neighbors.
Niko frowned, drowning out the television. He had disappeared from her life and she still ended up in danger. Now she had been missing for almost a week. After that day in her apartment when she told him she was in love with him, he started avoiding her calls and wouldn't respond to her texts.
He knew it was hurting her, but it really was for the best. He was tainted and as much as he craved that time with her, and away from everything, he couldn't bring her into his world. It wasn't fair. After seeing what had happened to his cousin and Mallorie when the girl got attacked in the street because of loan sharks after his cousin, he was sure he had made the right decision. After about three weeks she seemed to get the message and stopped calling. Then randomly one day about two months later she left him a voicemail begging him to call her, but he never did. Instead he changed his number. And she had never seen his shoddy apartment so even if he hadn't moved she had no way of finding him.
Although he was late that day going to meet with Dimitri, the appointment with the Russian mobster went well. Dimitri had a lot of respect for him and was a fair man. He was annoyed by Roman's reckless lifestyle however, and only tolerated him because he was Niko's cousin. Niko was quickly becoming one of the best enforcers on the streets. He was motivated by money, not by association, so although a few gangs were apprehensive about him, he was highly sought after for his resourcefulness. His military training gave him an edge over many of the lower level thugs. And although quiet, he was not dim-witted. Dimitri liked that about him and after a couple months took him to meet Mikhail Faustin and that was when his life started to change significantly.
He stalked over to the kitchen counter and poured himself another shot of vodka. Downing it, he shrugged open the pack of cigarettes and lit one as he leaned against the counter staring out the giant windows down into the city below. Somehow he felt responsible for what had happened to her.
He abandoned her to keep her safe, but in the process it left her completely vulnerable. The news reporter said she was a lawyer now, so she could have pissed the wrong people off for all he knew. Her naiveté although charming, had always frustrated him immensely.
But now that he was a powerful man in the city anyone he still considered that anybody could have gone after her as a way to hurt him. While dating they had often frequented the comedy clubs and went for walks around her neighborhood in the crisp autumn air. He still drove past her apartment and sat outside for hours just watching - just waiting. He never saw her, but he knew she still lived there.
The overhead light in her kitchen would shine brightly for hours, until she was ready to retire for bed. Promptly every night around eight pm it would suddenly go out and then the dim light from the lamp on the stand next to her bed would radiate its gentle glow and he would promptly drive away. He hadn't gone all week otherwise he would have noticed immediately something was up if the routine wasn't the same. Kiki never slept in the dark, alone.
Suddenly hit with the startling realization that anybody could have seen him and recognized him; after all they both lived in the same area, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. Fear. His hands felt clammy and weak. Although he drove two different cars, they were both very distinct from the prim and proper cars that the other residents in his area owned. The chrome rims and tinted bulletproof windows on his SUV and the large spoiler and low profile of his sports car tended to attract quite a bit of attention. Nobody could prove it, but they all suspected he was involved in some sort of illicit activities.
"Cousin?" Roman said, "What's happening, who is that?"
Looking up he snuffed out his cigarette on the marble countertop and tossed it in the garbage disposal before turning to Roman and Jacob.
"Nobody." He muttered.