Hestia- Nyo Greece
Kuzey- TRNC
Naranbaatar- Mongolia
Stelios- Cyprus
Liz/Elizabeth- Nyo England
Angelique- Seychelles
And the ocs:
Temel- Aden
Cora- Kazai
D'Andre- Jamaica
Malika- Malaysia
…
Ah, once again, sorry for the delay. But nevertheless, here's the next chapter!
Aden is a micronation in Turkey, and Kazai is a micronation in Cyprus. Temel and Cora, who represent those micronations, are my ocs. As is D'Andre. Drawings of them can be found on my art blog, theonlywayissealand. Malika is peteradnan's oc, and can be found on their blog.
Warning, this chapter contains mentions of Turgre and Giripan.
...
Sadik knew he shouldn't be this happy.
Nothing good ever came from being called to the Boss' office. The crew were usually given their tasks by a messenger- one of the Boss' favourites- so whenever one of them was called into the office, it could only mean that she was displeased with them.
And bad things happened when the Boss was displeased with you.
But Sadik didn't care.
He'd been reunited with his children.
He took a battered old photograph out of his wallet and smiled down at it. It had been taken nearly eleven years ago, when his youngest- Temel- had been a newborn baby, and consisted of him, his wife Hestia, and their four children: all wide grins and milk teeth. Hestia's face had been scratched out in a rage some years back.
To say their divorce had been messy was an understatement. It had been nearly a year of screaming and fighting before the papers were finally signed and he'd moved out. They fought when he came round to pick the kids up at weekends, and it was almost a relief when she told him she planned to move to Cyprus with the kids and her new boyfriend- one of his (former) best friends, no less!
Well, almost.
In the few months before she left, they'd probably fought more than they'd ever done before, if that was even possible. There was no way he would let her just move his children to a different country without a fight! He'd never afford to fly out to visit them, and she'd never want to visit him, so there was little chance of him seeing his children until they were old enough to fly back and visit him themselves. If they wanted to. What if they forgot about him completely? Sadik had shouted, pleaded, did everything he could to convince Hestia to stay in Germany, but she left anyways.
And he didn't hear from his children for nine years.
Then a few months ago, his second oldest, Kuzey, had gotten in touch with him after convincing Kiku- his stepfather and Sadik's ex-best friend- to give him Sadik's email address. Sadik had replied to Kuzey's first email with teary eyes. After exchanging a few lengthy messages, the boy- now man- had told him he'd convinced Hestia to let all four of them live with him for a few months, just to get to know their dad again. The oldest two were now adults, so she had no problem letting them go on their own.
He'd sat there for half an hour in stunned silence, staring at his computer screen with wide eyes. He was allowed to see them again?
When he finally pulled himself out of his stupor long enough to reply, the answer was an immediate and enthusiastic yes.
A few months of planning later, and Sadik found himself waiting at the airport for all four of them. He'd teared up as he pulled them into a tight hug and talked excitedly in the car on the way home.
Of course, his ecstatic mood had been dampened slightly by the behaviours of two of the kids…
"Don't tell me, you spilled some of the boxes going round a corner?"
Sadik pulled himself out of his thoughts and found his cousin staring down at him, a mixture of amusement and worry on his face. Naranbaatar's long, dark hair was tied neatly into a plait, as it always was, and he was dressed smartly.
"Huh?" Sadik asked. He'd not heard his cousin's question.
Naranbaatar rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses further up his nose. "Did you spill some of the boxes you were driving to and fro?"
"I don't think so."
"Insult the Boss' hair?"
"No. I'm not stupid!"
"Debatable. Did you ask too many questions?"
"You mean like you're doing right now?" Sadik smirked.
"Then what is it?" Naranbaatar sighed and sat on the flimsy, plastic chair next to Sadik, "I'm just worried about my baby cousin, that's all." The hall they were sat in was deserted, everyone else either carrying out tasks or lounging about in their sorry excuse of a mess room. Then again, considering that their mess room was a tiny corner of the storeroom, it was lucky they had one at all.
"Hey, enough of the baby rubbish! I'm only a year younger."
"But you act like a little baby!" Naranbaatar ruffled Sadik's hair and the pair laughed. Despite being in their late forties now, they could still act like a pair of little kids every now and again.
"Well maybe getting another chance to be a dad will help with that."
"Ah yes, how are your children settling in?"
It was Naranbaatar who had gotten Sadik a job here, two months ago. His old position as a housekeeper in a hotel wasn't paying nearly enough to support five people so he had looked for other job opportunities, but no luck. It was then that Naranbaatar told him about his own job, a seemingly simple occupation involving driving trucks to different warehouses and dingy shops. Sadik had been sceptical, until Naranbaatar talked numbers. And Sadik liked the numbers he heard.
He should've known.
No job that easy and that well paying could be legal. Sadik never dared look in the back of any of the trucks he drove- it wasn't his business. It was clearly illegal, but there was no way he was willing to investigate. Not only would getting his boss arrested rob him of his wages, but he was too scared of this mysterious boss to go against her. He hadn't met 'Liz' personally- only spoken to her on the phone when he first applied- but he'd heard stories about her cruel temper. She was rumoured to have bumped off several of her workers already, and he didn't want to end up in a river or ditch, not with his added, precious responsibilities. It was all probably a load of nonsense though. Who the hell was allowed to get away with killing their own employees? But that wasn't the only thing he'd heard about this boss, and if even half of what he'd been told were true, then that would make Liz a very dangerous person indeed.
It was a wonder that he wasn't more afraid of finally meeting her.
"Well, some have settled in more than others," Sadik admitted. It turned out that two of his children- Stelios and Cora- blamed him somewhat for all the fights between him and their mother. He and Hestia were both to blame for the demise of their marriage, and Sadik was willing to admit that, but their children had apparently taken sides. At least Kuzey and Temel were prepared to give him a chance.
Cora was utterly terrified of him, whilst Stelios just seemed like he didn't know how to act around him, fluttering about in a nervous, agitated manner. Sadik hoped they'd soon calm down.
"Give them time," Naranbaatar told him, "they're still getting used to being in a strange country."
"If you say so." There was a pause, then Sadik gave a small, nervous cough. "Will we be expecting a visit from Uncle Naranbaatar anytime soon?"
"No. I'd rather not get involved with your noisy offspring." He wrinkled his nose.
"No need to worry about noise," Sadik winked, "they're all moody teenagers and sensible adults now!"
"Still, I think I will give it a miss."
"Oh come on, please," he glanced over hopefully, "they only get visits from one uncle at the moment, and I'd rather keep his influence to a minimum."
"Hestia's twin still giving you grief?"
"Heracles is a prick," Sadik confirmed.
"I'm sure you'll get along eventually."
"Cousin, it's been nearly thirty years now, and we still hate each other."
"The Boss will see you now."
Sadik looked up to find young D'Andre Morgan glaring at him from a few metres away. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and coughed impatiently. He was a relatively tall, serious man who could actually be pretty fun, once you got to know him. And not many people did.
"Of course," Sadik stood up as Naranbaatar made a hasty exit. He followed D'Andre down the corridor and around a corner to a door guarded by two girls, dressed in matching dark uniforms. The shorter of the pair had her long, frizzy hair tied into two red ribbons whilst the taller wore her hair loose, decorated with a rafflesia.
"Angelique, Malika," D'Andre smiled warmly at them whilst Sadik nodded politely. Liz's Death Angels still scared him. It wasn't that they were particularly terrifying individuals, it was just that he had no desire to find out why they were called 'Death Angels'.
D'Andre opened the door to Liz's office, and Sadik braced himself.
"I brought him, Boss," he began, and Sadik noticed how tense he had become. But he didn't have time to ponder the man's sudden- and rather reasonable- hostility.
Liz was staring at him with interest.
So he stared back.
Sadik had a tendency to gawk, so he'd been told, but that never stopped him from taking a good gander at anyone he found interesting. And Liz was very interesting indeed.
She was smaller than he'd imagined, slight and almost petite. Her long blond hair was tied into a neat ponytail and green eyes shone behind thin glasses. She was dressed smartly, like a businesswoman, in her blouse and waistcoat.
She did not smile at him though.
"Thank you, Mr Morgan," she began, "you may leave us in peace now."
D'Andre nodded and turned swiftly, dreadlocks hitting Sadik's arm lightly as he walked out.
"Mr Adnan," Liz began, "please, take a seat." Her voice was polite and formal, but there was something about it that told Sadik to never refuse one of her requests or there'd be trouble. He sat in the hard chair opposite her desk.
"You wanted to see me, Boss?" he asked, mouth dry.
"Yes," she smiled sweetly, "it appears you are a very efficient employee, Mr Adnan."
"I try my best," he beamed, "gotta support my kids."
"Ah yes, your children." Liz looked down at a stack of papers in a folder, closing it when Sadik tried to glance at its contents. "Would you mind telling me a bit about them?"
"Err, sure," Sadik's bushy brows knotted together; what the hell was all this about? "Well, I have four, three sons and a daughter, Stelios, Kuzey, Cora and Temel. My ex-wife and I took turns in naming them. To be honest, I don't know much about them; they've been living in Cyprus for about ten years. Just moved over here last week."
"And how are they liking Germany?"
"It's a bit cold, apparently," Sadik gave a short, nervous laugh, "but they think it's nice."
"Cyprus, huh?" Liz rubbed her chin thoughtfully, "an EU member since 2004, in the Eurozone, looking to become part of the Schengen area, is it not?"
"Err, sure, probably," Sadik never really cared to learn about the place his children had been taken to.
"And how old are your children?"
Sadik blinked at the question. "Um, twenty-five, twenty-two, sixteen and eleven."
"Perfect!" Another cold smile, "Mr Adnan, your family must work for me at once! Their knowledge could prove useful indeed."
"I'm sorry?" Sadik stared at her in horror, mouth open. "What knowledge?"
"Of their corner of the EU!" Liz clapped her hands together.
"I hardly doubt they know much. And what does a delivery company want to know about Cyprus and the EU for?"
"Potential markets," she replied simply. It was a lie, but he didn't dare question it.
"But my children cannot work for you!" he cried, "it's probably not even legal to employ someone Temel's age. And they've just moved here!"
"I hardly doubt the police would be interested in an eleven year old earning some pocket money." Liz raised an eyebrow, "and I'm sure you could do with the money. Four extra wages is quite a substantial amount."
"What about Cora and Temel's schooling?"
"They'd only be working part time." Liz's eyes narrowed, "please don't argue back. I don't like people who argue back. It makes me angry."
"Sorry, Boss," Sadik stared at his knees, trying with all his might not to cry. He never allowed himself to cry in front of others.
"They will start work on Monday."
"But… they haven't even agreed to this!" he sobbed.
"I'm sure you can find a way to convince them. If not, maybe one of my Death Angels can pay you all a visit."
"That won't be necessary," Sadik gasped, paling considerably, "they'll be here!"
"Good. I expect to look out of my window nine o'clock Monday morning to find four new members pitter-pattering about loading and unloading lorries."
"They will!" Sadik almost gave her a salute, he was so anxious.
"Good," Liz gave a single, slow nod, "you are dismissed."
Sadik almost ran from the room. He stumbled down the corridor as watery tears blurred his vision and stung his sockets, finally coming to a rest in a deserted part of the building. He leaned heavily against the wall, sliding down until he was crouched, hugging his knees on the floor.
"My children," he sobbed, "my dear children. I'm sorry. I failed you." He rested his head against the cold plaster behind him.
"What have I dragged you into now?"