"So this is where the two of you live?" Hulk inquired, taking note of the drab gray apartment building at the end of a dismal back street.
"Papa runs the building," Kostya explained, "But not too many people come in, so there would be plenty of room for you."
"Anywhere where there's heat, that's good for us, yeah," Savage was starting to look chilled himself.
"Come, then; we'll introduce you to Mama and Papa," the boy clutched his sister's hand tight and waved the wrestlers to follow him in the front door. The walls were starting crack, and the lights looked weak, as if the power was just barely hanging on, Hulk noticed. Still, any lodging was worth it after all they'd been through so far that day. He followed the children up a set of stairs, where Kostya knocked on the first door on the right. "What took you two so long?" a rather rotund, worried woman almost threw the door open in a flourish, "I told you two not to be out so late...what happened to you?" she gasped at the sight of their injuries-followed by a shriek at all the people with her children, in particular the humongous Andre, "Who are these people? I told you never to talk to strangers...!"
"It's all right, Mrs. Polivinov, we're just looking for some lodging for the night," Hulk explained, "Your kids said you ran an apartment complex; we have more than enough money to pay for..."
"Renters, did you say?" a tall, thin mustached man bustled eagerly towards the door, "You would like a room?"
"A couple of rooms, for a couple of days, if that's OK," Bret told him, "You may or may not know us; we're..."
"Wait, I know you," Mr. Polivinov was squinting at Hulk, "You're the big American wrestler that'll be facing Nikolai Volkoff for the world title-Hog Heaven, was it...?"
"Hulk Hogan," the champion corrected him, "Yeah, that's me. I'd like to introduce..."
"Viktor, I don't know if we should let them stay here," Mrs. Polivinov whispered worriedly to her husband, "He could bring all sorts of trouble on us..."
"We won't cause any trouble, Mrs. Polivinov," Hulk assured her, "We'll be quiet for the other guests if that's what you'd want; all we might want is some training space, maybe in the basement or..."
"The police..." Mrs. Polivinov's eyes had gone wide at the Boss Man's uniform half-sticking out of his ripped bag, "You brought the police with you...!"
She tried to pull the door shut. "Hey, hey, it's OK; I'm not here to arrest you, miss," the Boss Man insisted, trying likewise to hold it open, "I'm just a former American cop; I wouldn't even know if you've done anything wrong. And look," he turned out his pockets, "No gun. I haven't carried one since I started wrestling."
"We're not here to arrest you; we're just travelers in a foreign land who'd like some shelter," Elizabeth told them, "You'd be helping us a lot."
"Vera, I see no problem; we've had trouble filling rooms anyway; think of what this will do for us to have Nikolai Volkoff's opponent stay with us," Mr. Polivinov pressed to his wife, "And I know you're still upset about what happened to your father, but they have no reason to come here for us. It's Christmas; let us offer hospitality to those who need it."
Mrs. Polivinov sighed in resignation. "They can stay," she agreed.
"Come on in, my friends," Mr. Polivinov waved the wrestlers in, "Business has been slow recently; we've been hard-pressed to fill any rooms in the complex lately."
"Well, we're glad to help your business then, Mr. Polivinov," Hulk shook the man's hand.
"Please, call me Viktor; this is Vera," he put an arm around his wife.
"Pleasure to meet both of you," the champion shook her hand as well, "What do you do, Vera?"
"I'm the morning janitor at a baking plant on the east side of Moscow," she said softly with more than a little shame, "Twelve hours cleaning up other people's mess for mere kopeks; it's no way to make a living with two children, especially one who's..."
Her voice trailed off as she glanced sadly at her daughter, now plopped in a chair and staring ahead at nothing. "Can't you just take a better job?" Steamboat inquired.
"Who has another job? There's nothing else to take!" she lamented, "It's a terrible life...!"
"But we make the best, and at least we have children to make us happy," Viktor was smiling as he hefted Kostya up onto his shoulders. "And I guess, Mr. Hogan, your friends here are famous wrestlers too?" he looked at everyone else.
"Don't you watch any TV, Vik; of course we are," Piper declared, half with pride and half with frustration, "And most of us have faced Volkoff at least once in our career."
"But you can't have done well since he's undefeated-and speak of that, here he is now," Vera pointed at the television in the living room, which was showing footage of Volkoff in action, "They've been playing up his great victories for the last few weeks to promote his match with you, Mr. Hogshead."
"Great victories? Volkoff undefeated?" Hulk shook his head in disgust at the footage, "Give me a break; he was up against John Harris in this match; that guy could hardly wrestle in the first place. And this one," he pointed at another match being shown, "Bob Brown had a bad leg in the first place; Volkoff spent half the match kicking it out from under him and making sure he was injured good before going for the kill. They've probably only been showing his wins against inferior talent all this time."
"But look, here he's pinning him," she pointed at the set, and then at Tito.
"But they're not showing before that, where he hit me from behind with Blassie's cane to take me out," Tito protested, "I was winning the match easily before he resorted to that. Volkoff always cheats like that when he's in a hole; I'll bet they haven't shown any of that either."
"Truth be told, sir, I've thought Volkoff's looked too good myself when they show his footage," Viktor admitted with a knowing smirk, "It seems they show him unable to do any wrong; no one could be that perfect."
"Well you got that right, my man; Volkoff's got the IQ of a toaster, yeah," Savage told him with his own smirk, "Randy Savage, by the way, along with the best manager in all of wrestling, my bride, the one and only Elizabeth Hulette Savage," he gently nudged her forward to shake both Polivinovs' hands.
"Oh yes, I was going to introduce everyone to you," Hulk remembered. He proceded to do just that. "This is a bit of a strange experience for us, being here," he said in closing, "Ordinarily, we're mobbed wherever we go around the world; here in Russia, we've gotten the cold shoulder so far. It's not really what you..."
"Say, Viktor, Vera," Davey's attention was fixated on a small picture hanging inside an open closet door, "Is this the last tsar and his family here? Are you related to...?"
"No, no we're not," Viktor admitted as everyone hustled over to take a look at the portrait, which was indeed of Nicholas II and his family, "But my great-grandfather was a priest here in Moscow in the first part of the century, and served the tsar loyally. In fact, he insisted on going into exile with them. They let him stay with them as far as the Volga, then they took him off the train, threw irons around his neck, and drowned him in the river-a sad foreshadowing of the way they treat organized religion today..."
"Shhhh!" Vera hissed worriedly, "They'll hear you! Especially with them here!" she pointed at the wrestlers.
"Mrs. Polivinov, I'll repeat, I have no connection to the KGB," the Boss Man said as calmly as he could, "And we certainly weren't followed here, I can guarantee you that."
"It's true, Mama," Kostya added, "There were no police with them."
"There's no way to be sure," she nonetheless looked worriedly out the window, "Police always work together to take out undesireables; the police always lie when they're on to you...!"
"Miss, I'm not lying, and I'm a good cop...well, there was a time I wasn't quite as good," the Boss Man confessed, "I am now, but there was a time...I guess being assigned to maximum security for a long stretch of time can do something to your mind. Being among the worst of society, they can pull you in and warp you a bit. There was this one guy, called himself Nailz; they got him for three murders, five counts of assault, two counts of kidnapping, and torture. He'd play mind games with me all the time, saying he was my master, and I was going to bow to him when he got out. I'll admit that when I got into wrestling, I was glad to get away from the likes of him; I hope he never does get out. But anyway, being among so much evil must have made me lose faith in the world to a degree. Thus, I was easily swayed by Freddie Blassie and joined up with him as my manager. And I carried out his dirty work, giving beatdowns to everyone I faced in the ring. Looking back, I hate what I was then."
"How do we know you're still not the same now?" Vera had to know, still looking skeptical.
"Because he has changed for the better, Vera," Hulk vouched for his colleague, "I should know; I helped him get back to the light. I guess you could say it started around the time Ted DiBiase first set his sights on the world championship. First he tried to buy the belt off me, but I know full well that the title should never change hands like that-you either earn it fairly or you don't get it. So DiBiase started throwing everything he had at me to get it. In one match, he had his bodyguard face me. Virgil gave me a good run-over, but even with DiBiase in his corner interfering in the match, I still beat him in the end. And after I pinned him, I noticed Virgil had a lot of his boss's cash on himself. And it struck me that it wasn't fair for DiBiase to just be carting around so much cash when a lot of the people who come to see us wrestle can hardly get by half the time. So I took a handful of the money and started handing it out the people at ringside."
"Well, that was very considerate of you," Viktor managed a smile, "Here, anyone who'd do that would be branded insane."
"The only downside was, DiBiase back-jumped me in a rage before I was finished," Hulk lamented, "He dragged me into the ring, screamed that no one gave away HIS money, and rammed a thick wad of them down my throat, then stamped on my windpipe to make me choke on them. I was out of action for a few weeks, while he bragged about how great he was to have put me out of commission. I wanted to get back at him so bad for that, and after some thinking, figured out the best way to get under his skin. So, after I'd been cleared to return, I came out after one of his matches, flattened Virgil when he tried to stop me, and took away DiBiase's prized Million Dollar Belt from him."
"So you condone stealing?" Vera frowned deeply at him.
"Part of me had a bit of a problem with that, Vera, yeah, but DiBiase steals from everybody else; by his own bragging, he's raided and put out of business no fewer than two dozen companies over the years," Hulk told her, "Any stealing I would do pales in comparison to him.
"But how does this have to do with the policeman becoming better?" she had to know.
"DiBiase swore he'd get the Million Dollar Belt back any way he could, Vera. And that included hiring the Boss Man to do it. I remember it well..."
"Ted DiBiase and Hulk Hogan going at it full-blast outside the ring!" Vince McMahon all but screamed into his microphone, "Neither man seems to have an advantage, but it appears that...wait a minute, what's this; the Big Boss Man and Freddie Blassie coming down to ringside; this cannot be good-and the Boss Man wallops Hogan across the back of the head with his nightstick! There goes the bell; Hulkster no doubt the winner by disqualification here, but look at this; Boss Man now beating him down in the middle of the ring-and now he's handcuffing him to the ropes; give me a break! Freddie Blassie grabbing the Million Dollar Belt, he's now headed over to the Piper's Pit set over there, where we were going to have some post-match comments..."
"And indeed we are, McMahon; victory comments by the Million Dollar Man on finally getting his rightful title back," a grinning Jesse Ventura openly applauded as Hulk got a gratuitously slap across the face from the Boss Man, who then climbed out of the ring and followed Blassie and DiBiase and his entourage towards the Piper's Pit set. A fuming Piper was waiting for all of them. "Well, I hate to start this interview on the wrong foot, gentlemen, BUT WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ALL ABOUT!" he berated all his guests.
"What that was, Piper you insignificant mite, was a shining example of the fact that there's nothing the Million Dollar Man cannot get if he wants it," DiBiase bragged to the Scotsman, "Because the Immortal Hulk Hogan," he sneered contemptuously towards the ring, where a dazed Hulk was trying futilely to extracate his hand from the handcuff, "wouldn't give me a fair shake at his world title, I vowed to create a better title, one that would put his to shame. And I put together 1.5 million dollars of the purest gold and the finest diamonds into the greatest championship belt ever made," he gestured to his belt in Blassie's hands, "And you, Hulk Hogan, had the unmitigated brass to try and take away from what me what didn't belong to you!" he snarled at the champion again, "And you know what we do, Jimmy Hart," he put an arm around his manager, "When you get hit by a thief?"
"Absolutely, Ted, baby; you call the cops on him!" Jimmy laughed hard, as did DiBiase. "That's right, Jimmy, and so I bought and paid for the best police assistance that money can buy," the Million Dollar Man bragged, "And I'd like to first thank you, Freddie Blassie, on coming through on a job well done for the money I paid you," he shook the Classy One's hand, "And now, my Million Dollar Belt if you please."
"Absolutely, Ted; let him have it, big guy," Blassie handed the Million Dollar Belt to the Boss Man. The former prison guard, however, was frowning deeply. "Hold it, Blassie, what's this he's saying about a damn payoff!" he demanded.
"Just a charitable donation Ted gave us for this, nothing to worry about; now let him have his belt back," Blassie stressed.
"It don't sound like a donation to me, Freddie! You said I was just recovering stolen property; you didn't say nothing about no payoff!" the Boss Man roared at him, "I demand an explanation!"
"I don't owe you anything, Boss Man; now I'm giving you an order; hand Mr. DiBiase back his belt!" the Classy One ordered him.
"You heard the man; you've been paid well to do your job, now finish it and give me my property back!" DiBiase threw in a threat of his own.
"Let me tell you something, you fat-faced punk!" the Boss Man roared at him, "NOBODY tells me what to do, boy, NOBODY!"
"Oh yeah?" Blassie walloped his charge in the back of the head with his cane. "You take orders from me, Boss Man, and don't you forget that!" he shouted at him, "Now give Mr. DiBiase his belt, or else!"
"You heard the man, Boss Man, give it to me!" DiBiase bellowed at him.
"All right then!" the Boss Man gave it to him all right-he cracked DiBiase across the face with the Million Dollar Belt to a tremendous ovation. "You want this back, DiBiase, you're going to have to get the old fashioned way and earn it!" he told the Million Dollar Man coldly, "Because I can't be bought, and I sure ain't no thief!"
He started back towards the ring. "No, no, come back!" DiBiase begged him desperately. "Get him back here, Blassie; I've already paid you for this!" he begged the Classy One.
"Boss Man, get back here with that right now, or you won't wrestle again for a month!" Blassie shouted at him.
"Don't listen to him; go, baby, go!" Piper enthusiastically applauded the Boss Man climbing into the ring and digging out his handcuff key.
"Shut up, Piper!" a frantic DiBiase screamed at him. "Stop him, Virgil!" he ordered his bodyguard, who immediately charged towards the ring, but he was too late; the Boss Man unlocked Hulk and handed him the Million Dollar Belt back-and then both of them flattened Virgil with a simultaneous clothesline when he tried to grab the belt back. DiBiase exploded with a roar of frustration. "I paid you well for this, Blassie!" he berated the manager, "I expect results, not this garbage!"
"Shut up, Ted; it's not my fault you run your mouth off!" Blassie shouted back.
"Well, looks like you two have a lot to talk over and work out-but not right now!" Piper let out a roar of delight as the Boss Man charged back, smashed both men over the head with his nightstick, then conked their heads together for extra emphasis and pushed them towards Jimmy before he could do anything. He then shook hands with Hulk as the champion walked by, and followed him out through the curtain to tremendous applause.
"I realized a lot that day," the present-day Boss Man iterated, "If you let the bad in the world get to you, you'll end up becoming part of the..."
There came a loud booming sound from outside. Vera immediately flung herself to the floor, her eyes wide in fear. "Darling, it's all right," Viktor tried to assure her, "Just a truck backfiring..."
"I need to make sure!" she barrelled out the door. "Is she...?" Hulk asked worriedly.
"Vera lives in complete fear of the police," Viktor admitted, deep concern in his eyes, "When she was a child, the KGB dragged her father off in the middle of the night. He'd been purchasing English Bibles on the black market to run an underground Sunday school class. Somehow they found out, and accused him of being a spy, spreading information to the Americans through the exchanges, even though it was false and he never had any access to secret information. She never saw him again; he's probably in a mass grave somewhere."
"I'm sorry," Bret told him regretfully, "So, let me guess she's hesitant about any contact with Westerners like us?"
"She's afraid history will repeat itself, and that she'll lose the things she values most today if..." Viktor glanced worriedly at his children in the corner, "But, like I said, this building is more than open to you."
"And we appreciate your hospitality, Viktor," Hulk shook his hand again, "And I can assure you nothing's going to go wrong while we're here."
"Aha," mumbled the heavyset man wearing dark glasses in the black car at the head of the alley as he watched Hulk through the apartment window though an extended infrared camera. He turned to his partner next to him and gestured for a radio. "General Yermakov, we have acquired visual on the target Hogan," he related grimly, "We will maintain surveillance on him until you give the order to move forward with the rest of the operation..."