"Mr. Bulgarin, are you alright?" Assif asked. He was not truly concerned about the Russian man, but was more worried about the consequences if he didn't ask. Rodislav made it to his feet and scoffed.
"Bah, just a scratch." He opened the rip caused by the one bullet Niko was able to fire. Bulgarin's arm was nothing more than scraped. It oozed just enough blood to look painful, but not enough to actually hurt a substantial amount. "Maybe a bandage when we get back to the warehouse. Pick up this slimy rat," Rodislav barked, waving his hand over Niko's limp body. Assif slung his AK-47 across his back and hefted the Serbian gangster. He must be wearing body armor, because he doesn't look this heavy, Assif fumed as Bulgarin waved him toward a waiting Landstalker. The tailgate was open, and Assif quite literally threw Niko into the back. The suspension groaned as 200 pounds of deadweight collided with the SUV's frame.
"Shouldn't we gag him in case he wakes up?"
"That's not necessary. You gave him quite a thump." Assif turned his head to examine the butt of his rifle, with another fresh blood stain on the gun. Yeah, I'd say. Assif slammed the tailgate down and slid the rifle off his back as he climbed into the Landstalker, joining his boss in the front. Rodislav slammed the accelerator down and took off toward Bohan.
* * *
Niko awoke fairly uneventfully. His head was sticky and he was very hot. Niko's eyelids were heavy and he was very sore, but he still managed to open his eyes. The room was cramped, humid, dirty, and abandoned, and that last fact was very, very important because that's when his cell phone rang. Niko hastily jammed the Accept button to quite the loud jingle. It was Roman.
"Ah, cousin, I'm sorry I didn't call you this morning. Did you make it to your meeting?"
"Roman, listen to me, I need you to call a man named Patrick McReary and tell him I'm in trouble. He should be in Leftwood Memorial Hospital if he hasn't been released yet."
"S-sure cousin," Roman replied shakily. He was expecting calm Niko, not his other side. "What's the problem?" There was a jostling outside the door, and Niko could hear keys.
"I have to go, cousin! Do this for me!" Niko pressed End and rolled over painfully, covering his phone. The door creaked open.
"Bellic! Wake up, already!" Niko recognized this voice, but vaguely. The source of the voice kicked the bed, or table, that Niko was on, and he groaned.
"Get up, for God's sake. There's someone who wants to see you." Niko rolled again, and saw who was speaking. It was the Middle Eastern man who he met in Lancet about the job in the first place. He never gave his name.
"Well, Mohammed," Niko said dryly, "you can tell this man that I'm not going anywhere." The man spat at Niko, said something along the lines of, 'everyone here is just a bunch of ignorant fu-', and walked away. Niko smirked, which quickly turned into a cringe as he tried to get himself upright. Despite the sharp pain in his legs, Niko tried his best to stand. His first, second, and third attempt all resulted in falling over in some way, so he settled with sitting up on the side of his cot. If it could really be called that. It was more of an operating table covered in straw, but it worked. Niko decided to take a more careful look at his surroundings, as he had nothing better to do.
The room was too small to hold anything more than the table Niko sat on and the chair in the corner. The walls were dirty brick, and there were broken wooden beams hanging from the ceiling. Cobwebs hung in the corners and there was dirt on the tile floor. Most of the tiles were busted or cracked in some way, with some completely missing, exposing the unstained boards underneath. The one door in the front of the room was swung open. It looked like it was once hooked up to a system that closed it automatically, but that was missing. It was a plain wooden door, with a single glass panel in it. The glass was broken, with only a few straggling pieces jutting up. Niko decided this might have at one time been a hospital room, but the building was long abandoned.
"Good, you're awake." Niko turned his head to look at the figure standing in the doorway.
"Rodislav Bulgarin. How have you been?" Niko's voice was rich with sarcasm.
"I am much better now, my friend." Bulgarin was condescendingly cheerful. Niko didn't like it.
"If we're such good friends, perhaps you could tell me what you plan to do?" The Middle Eastern man who had awoken Niko earlier walked up and stood next to Bulgarin. He heard what Niko had said.
"Maybe that isn't such a good idea?"
"Ah, there's no trouble," Bulgarin scoffed. "Niko's not going anywhere." Bulgarin entered the room and hunched over, filling Niko's vision with his face. "Well, friend, I want my money, and I plan to get it, one way or another." Bulgarin jabbed Niko in the forehead with two large fingers as he stood and walked away, then flapped a hand at the Middle Eastern man. "Take care of him, Assif."
"Ah, so your name is Assif?"
"Yes it is. Not Mohammed, you dog." Assif grabbed Niko by his shirt and pulled him up. "Get on your feet. We've got something you need to do."
"And what's that?" Assif smiled maliciously.
"You're going to pay Mr. Bulgarin."
* * *
"Roman, who was that?" Mallorie stuck a toweled head out of the bathroom.
"Uh, that was Niko," Roman was clearly nervous. "D-do you know anyone named, um, Patrick McReary?"
"Yeah! He used to do business with Elizabeta. Why?"
"Well, Niko's in trouble and he told me to call this Patrick and tell him."
"Wait, Niko's in trouble? What happened?"
"He didn't tell me, but it can't be good. He said Patrick should be in Leftwood Memorial Hospital."
"Well, go, Roman! What are you waiting for!" Roman shook his head and grabbed the keys to his car before running out of his apartment. Mallorie walked out of the bathroom and into the living area, where Niko was crying softly in his crib, almost as if he knew his uncle was in trouble. Mallorie bent over and lifted her baby, cradling him.
"Shh, shh, it's okay," she said softly as she watched Roman speed of toward Alderney. "They'll be okay..."