HAPPY CHAPTER 40!
Let me tell y'all! The incredible response to my last chapter put me on cloud 9 for leading up to my birthday weekend! Thank you to everyone who comments or reaches out on Tumblr. It is motivation like no other. Each new kudos, comment, review, follow- it is heard and seen, but most importantly felt. I wish FF had a way to respond to the comments on the story instead of having to go make a private message, and I wish AO3 had the ability to have private messaging. Lol
I wish I had all the free time in the world to write, because then I could promise things like Valentine's Day one shots or take requests. I will still take them, and if it is something I feel capable of doing, I will give it my best. And even though I can't draw or sketch or anything in that realm of artistic nature, I do adore the fanart.
Shoutout to Elizabeta (Guest) for making one for the Completely Hypothetical story:
ibb . co / PMM3MGT
(yeah the spaces aren't actually there)
aaaaaa
"Niko- To the end, to be free once and for all.
The fight is finished for him-
for now.
But you still have the war."
Niko's scattered brain couldn't decipher the voice speaking and the one taunting him in his head.
'How much do you charge to kill someone..?'
'You were always a killer! I just helped you see that!'
'Darko stop it… You are the monster- not me…'
Niko bowed his head and shook it negatively to try and quite the voices bounding around inside his mind, heart, and soul.
'You did the right thing, Niko. It is not often that a man can be sure of that, but you definitely did the right thing. Be proud of yourself.'
'Roman hush… There is no pride to be won…'
'The right person can make your life wonderful in the same way that the wrong one can ruin it. The problem is that it's difficult to tell which one the man you are with is.'
'You're a tough guy with a death wish. A thieving, murdering, drug dealing idiot. Do you just think you can just walk away from all that?'
'Kate I- I'm sorry, I'm trying…'
The ping of bullets striking the chipped away paint did nothing to encourage Niko to move from his spot. Distant yells faded to a muffled, jumbled cloud. The heat feared to touch the desperation that cloaked the knelt form of a broken leader. Anger rippled through his soul-
He was meant to get everyone out alive.
He was meant to conduct a meeting with Trevor then stretch out on the flight home- to figure out other pressing matters dealing with a certain ex female.
But no…
"I swear on my life I will avenge you brother." Niko whispered the words against Anton's chilly temple before placing a painful kiss goodbye to semi warm skin. There was nothing left to do. No amount of CPR would bring him back. There was no blood to spare to give. The sobering thoughts spiraled faster and faster till it was nothing but a thrashing tornado within.
'Now is not the time to feel. Finish the mission… Kill those who wounded Anton and bring justice to him!'
'Pledge with me brothers, to keep those we love safe, and to finish this fight.' Determined eyes looked up to him with a sworn oath to watch out for one another and concede a finish to the atrocious war. If one could really call it a war.
Niko's chest constricted and grabbed hold of the suffering, solidifying it into a shield. A shield that would block anything and everything from getting to his heart. The band of fifteen was dwindling down one by one. And his stomach rolled so hard he gagged for fresh air. He may have just cut their numbers down to two…
'What have I done?!'
He was hurting too much to be able to oversee another death or loss. He brushed his fingertips over Anton's unmoving face and memorized everything. He would never forget what all Anton had done for him; He would never forgive himself for failing him.
He would always remember the careful, gentle nature in which he cared for Kate. Stepping in when he was needed elsewhere, when he should have been the one to catch her illness…
"Спасибо за все это (Spasibo za vse eto; Thank you for it all)" Niko let the words fall from his lips in their own form of tears. For now was not the time to shed weakness. Now was not the time of mourning. It was time for retribution.
'Rest easy comrade. I will carry on from here.'
"Get everyone on the plane. I'll be there shortly." Niko spoke lifelessly bold so that Trevor and everyone else listening in on the comms would get the command. Heavy, emotional eyes did one last circuit of his captain's face. Searching for the answer he wished for and not the one provided to him.
"Shouldn' you be the one escapin'?" Trevor fired off the last rounds in his rifle as the truck screeched to a stop inside the covered walls of a once glorious hanger. But the years had been cruel and unrelenting, so the metal reflected the decades of neglect. Rusted tools, empty fuel tanks, and a dinosaur of a desktop lined the opposite wall where the rental vehicle slid to a halt.
"Pakhan. He is correct. Your protection comes before the rest of us!" Sergei flung the driver door open of the rental and rushed his steps toward the back of the truck to have his fears confirmed. He yanked on the latch and let it drop loudly… Only to release his rifle and bunch his hands into his buzzed short hair. His legs wobbled and gave out, crashing Sergei down to the dusty concrete hanger floor.
"Luggage is loaded. Munitions are not. Are we needing to prepare for more passengers?" Ivo swallowed the shake of his voice to be the brave confident one now. Sergei and Anton were always the force to look up to for guidance. He longed to exude the calm, joking, and serious nature of his two boss'. Now one was limply sitting upright in the bed of a truck and the other was huddled on the cool foundation whispering over and over again that this wasn't happening.
With more umph than was needed, Ivo shoved the truck door open wide and rounded around the tailgate, bowing his head and silently whispering out a prayer, he couldn't bear to look at Anton's lifeless form. He kept moving to get the last few bags out of the trunk of the rental car. Johnny handed him a couple while adjusting the ones strung from his shoulders. He nodded his thanks and motioned his head in the direction of the waiting plane.
Johnny couldn't help and keep his own plate rather empty. For he would need to narrow his focus to one task at a time. Load the plane with the remaining weapons, ammo, and laptop left behind thanks to Karen storming out of Niko's life and the protection of the Bratva. So long as his mind didn't wander too far, he could keep it together and stand by Niko's side through the spreading wildfire.
The stairs squeaked as they climbed them up to the fuselage of the plane. Ivo carelessly tossed the duffle bag to one of the first class styled seats and unceremoniously unloaded a couple of rifles, sniper rifles, and submachine guns to the floor in front of the opposite plush, oversized chair. Johnny dropped his bags to the floor in front of the first seat. They would be out of the center aisle, but still accessible should they need it.
Ivo returned the nod from Johnny who simply picked up a submachine gun and descended the steps in a hurry to help get Niko moving. They didn't have time to waste on saying goodbyes as the assault from the motorcycle gang was fast approaching. He circle waved his index finger at Ivo to get things going as he would ensure Niko's safe return to his property.
Ivo's eyes briefly fell upon the javelin rocket launcher standing upright the in closet between the captain's seats and main cabin as he entered the cockpit to stash the laptop. It dropped with a soundless motion. Weird for something so heavy and full with grave information. He climbed over the center console of switches and the throttle to plop down in the first captain's chair.
He would at least get the bootup sequence going for Sergei to take over. He was not comfortable flying a jet. At least for the time being. He was scheduled to start flight school sometime in the summer. He pulled the laminated pages free from between the seat and throttle gears component, glancing down the long list of warnings to get to the steps of turning on the plane and taxiing it to the runway for takeoff.
"Step one- Click main power button on." 'Easy enough to follow. I'll get down this list then finish my… My last task.'
The final one of carrying Anton into the plane.
The slash of resentment flashed over him as he snatched the headset from the hanging holder, shoving the large earmuffs over his comm link and ears. He had already mourned the loss of Vanya, why must he endure another death? It was a question to dwell on at a later time, for now he needed to contact the ground and tower of the desert airfield, "Romeo, Uniform, Sierra 1406 calling tower for clearance. Emergency take off requested." Ivo couldn't see the tower from the cockpit windows, but figured there was some kind of network he needed to alert for their hasty departure.
When only silence greeted him back, he moved the headset off his empty ear and clicked the outside speaker on, "Anyone boarding flight 1406 due Liberty, get your ass on the plane now!"
"Weee-We live here. I-Iya's think T will drive us-us home." Wade cautiously exited the high end four door sports car, hands unsure of where to be, and held a hard attempt to keep the ticks and shakes to a minimum. It had been a couple of hours since his last hit off the pipe, and the withdrawals were kicking into overtime.
"Wade. Come on. Get b-back in the car. I-I'll drive us out of here. Right T?" Ron climbed out of the backseat of the car with a little bit of difficulty because of his knee. He paused in lowering down to the driver's seat to wait for Trevor's answer. He really didn't want to stick around for the gunfight that was barreling down to their location.
"Ron, Wade, Take the car. Get back to HQ. I'll meet you there once it's safe. Ya hear?" Trevor hopped down from the bed of his truck and hauled the praying man off the ground to on his feet with Johnny's help, "You still got a job to get done." He leveled Sergei with a fiercely vacant stare, the only movement being the lift in his eyebrows as if silently asking him to disobey the command.
"Ohh-Okay T. Heading out now…" Ron didn't wait around for anyone to change their minds and ask them to stay. He turned the key the second he sat behind the wheel. He hated driving. Loathed the stress and anxiety that came with it. But right now all that mess was as far as it could be within in his mind. This was life or death, and stress be damned. He was going to get back to HQ with Wade- Unscathed.
Wade hesitated to get back in the car. What if Trevor needed backup? What if Trevor didn't make it back to the trailer home? Trevor was his caretaker in a way. And he felt wrong leaving him in the heat of a battle. It was a pill that didn't want to go down the hatch, "T-?!"
"Go on Wade. I got this." Trevor pushed Sergei in the direction of the bed of the truck and went about loading up the spare rifle he grabbed, his pistol, and dropped a couple of grenades in his jeans' pocket, ignoring the kneejerk reaction from Johnny telling him it wasn't a good idea to store those there. One could never hurt with having an extra layer or two of protection when faced with an army. He lifted his eyes from seating the magazine in his pistol to make sure Wade was on the move and heading toward the rental car.
"Pakhan… Help me load him on the plane. We can't keep sitting here as easy pickings." Sergei shuddered from his head to his toes with the hollow, exhausted understanding stare that was splayed over his boss' features. He could read years and years of torment and death play out in dull brown eyes. How crawling and shifting through mounds of dirt to find his fellow comrades had worn him down to a shell of a man. An autopilot killer just to pay the bills.
This was not a survivalist before him.
Most definitely not a grade A assassin.
It was a grieving man with no hope left.
"Pah-Pakhan?" Sergei stuttered over Niko's title. His mind was beyond empty and for the life of him he couldn't form another sentence or question. He had appreciated the show of affection he received after Vanya's death. He did not expect Niko to feel anything towards them. Kenny never showed affection, praise- only pointed out things they did wrong and yelled at them for not being perfect.
But here Niko was, cradling Anton's face and saying goodbye as if he was a blood brother.
'Now there are two to bury upon our return.' Sergei bowed his head and said one last prayer for his lost brothers before snapping out of it and addressed his boss, "Niko- Boss. We got one hell of a pissed off club of bikers headed our way. Let me help you get him out of the truc-!"
"Hey! Lazy Ass!" Trevor chucked a pinned grenade at Niko to knock him back to the present. Too irritated at how long this was taking and how everyone kept babying their leader. They needed to set up positions or get on the plane now to avoid another shootout. A mild coil of disturbed hatred floated through his blood when the metal orb was caught about six inches from Niko's face, the trajectory should have had Niko whining and complaining about being struck by a live grenade...
Niko leaned over past the hand that shook while holding the frag and turned his loathing, scathing, and murderous glare in Trevor's direction. His nose twitched. Eyebrows drew down. An insult begging to be released from being on the tip of his tongue. But as reality set in, he realized he was not the only one holding the grenade.
'Who… How?!'
"Капитан (Kapitan, Captain)?"
"Yeeeeaaahhhh. Yeah that's right. Told you he wasn't dead! Yep! Totally called it!" Trevor mildly gloated on a victory that was not indeed called by him. It had been jarring to see the pinned orb get halted instantly on its path to striking Niko's forehead. By both the wounded, dying man, and Niko. Their reflexes were beyond anything he had seen in his lifetime.
"I hahh have a job to-to finish. To give life, blood, body." Anton's voice sounded like rocks grinding upon one another, "But if you-you could fi-find the time to load me- plane- I'd be grateful."
"You son of a bitch! Had me going there!" Niko fought the laughter back and reattached the grenade to his bulletproof vest. He cuffed the side of Anton's head and pulled him in for a semi-hug. He didn't care who saw; he was just so thankful to have his friend alive. It would make walking out on the battlefield that much easier. For he knew his back would be protected.
"What-what can I say? Someone's gotta keep you on your toes." Anton thumped his head back into the metal and cracked glass of the outer wall of the cab and reached out to take Niko's right hand. Ring dimly glinted in the shadows. He tiredly placed a kiss to the ring and lifted their fisted hands to rest against his forehead.
Anton closed his eyes as he struggled to keep the ring flush to his forehead. 'I am not done. I haven't finished this to the end.' "Boss… To give life, blood, body, and service to Pakhan's will. An unbreakable blood oath that forever ties me to the law held within the Bratva."
He relinquished his life once more to the will and law of his boss-
Friend.
Comrade in arms,
Leader.
Head of the Table-
Brother,
Niko Bellic.
He bowed his head to hide the tears when Niko stretched up on his knees to kiss the crown of his head. He should've never doubted his place in the Bratva or his connection to Niko. It was there and always would be. And should he pass on to the next life… He had someone who recognized him for his service and skills…
'Till the day I cannot exist on this plane of life, I am appreciated.'
Anton slowly broke their hold on one another to look up into eyes that swam with so much relief it almost broke his dam of tears. Sounds started to rise in volume, and he leaned over to his right to stare through a fairly large hole in the hanger sheeting, "Guess we are ge-getting a sen-sendoff party too?"
"Angels of Death are relentless. It's why their numbers grow and shrink so quickly." Johnny dropped his exhausted body against the faded red paint on the side of Trevor's truck. It had been several months since he needed to be this active. Honestly the last time was when he killed Billy… Or the last unsuccessful mission with Niko involving money and diamonds.
His body wanted a break, but his brain knew there was more fighting to come.
"That why your numbers keep shrinking?" Trevor chuckled, "Should start building back up now that we are on the same team." He took the few steps between them and held out his hand, "Look all that mess in the past-?"
"It's in the past. Where it needs to stay. Don't let it become a problem again." Johnny looked down at Trevor's outstretched hand and for a split second he wanted to refuse the partnership. There was too much water under the bridge to simply ignore. Niko had to be wrong in setting all this up. Trevor had the damn meeting ambushed by the Angels or Pavano's or both. How was he supposed to trust him as a partner when he was constantly looking for ways to sever their deal?
Yet Niko was pretty wise and had a sense of knowing when things were going to go bad or not. Kenny had also held that air about him. If Kenny placed Niko in charge, there was a reason for it. So with a heavy, accepting sigh, Johnny shook Trevor's hand…
Missing the crossed fingers tucked into Trevor's back pocket of his jeans.
Bullets began to pelt the metal protection the hanger provided, sounding like heavy rain beating on the roof and sides. The loud backfiring of motorcycles and high-pitched whine from dirt bikes grew in intensity. The group shared hurried glances to make sure they were all aware and knew it was time to hightail it out of their current rest spot.
"Sergei, Ivo help Anton get inside the plane. Johnny and Trevor- we are going to hold them off for as long as we can to give the rental car a chance to get a safe distance away as well as possibly pull the plane out to the runway. Yes? We good with that?" Niko patted Anton's shoulder in relief and hopped down from the open bed hatch. He yanked the firing mechanism on his rifle back to check for a seated round and released the hammer with a satisfying clank.
"Yes Pakhan." Sergei responded and climbed into the bed of the truck to get Anton moving to the edge to get down and moving to the plane.
"Romeo. Uniform. Sierra requesting emergency take off. Sandy Shore tower, RUS Private 1406, Runway 2, ready for takeoff." Ivo's voice came over the earwig clear as day, and it worried Niko that there was zero response from the radio tower.
Niko lifted his rifle to check out the tower for people or not. He took a step or two closer to the edge of the hanger walls to line up his scope. Darkened glass made it difficult to make out any movement or lack thereof.
"We run the airfield Niko. Here, how do you communicate with the person in the cockpit?" Johnny followed Niko and cupped his hands around his eyes to try and see if any of his fellow men were there for assistance. Every day he let his men choose who got to sit up in the tower to watch for shipments from Kenny. It usually ended in a squabble that he had to break up- make the choice himself for who was on tower duty.
"Multi-way private radio channels. Say what you need to say close to my ear and Ivo will hear you." Niko titled his head slightly in Johnny's personal space and pointed out the earpiece. So long as the message got across, he wouldn't need to repeat the commands back and forth between Johnny and Ivo.
"That could have come in handy earlier…" Johnny grumbled as he pulled his phone out to scroll to the text for the day's flight codes. He was slightly miffed he was not included in the communication between everyone. He had been flying blind so to say and now knowing he could've had outside connection to people hit a couple of easily triggered nerves.
He opened the text and darted his eyes through all the information till he landed on takeoff and landing codes, "Sandy Shores Tower, Rank P, Open flight plan for a private jet to Liberty City. Repeat Johnny rank Prez, open flight plan for private jet- Sandy Shores to Liberty City at 1230 Zulu." Johnny had to quickly check the time in the middle of reading off the coded messages to his men in the tower.
"You know who you assigned to the tower?" Niko tilted his head away from the assault rifle scope to regard Johnny. For all he knew the enemy forces took the tower before they got there. And that would make them easy targets on a shooting range.
"Yeah… Trustworthy men-"
"Romeo Uniform Sierra 1406, flight plan activated at 1230 Zulu, Liberty City altimeter 30.02. Runway clear. We'd appreciate any pilot reports on Flight Watch." A southern drawl spoke through the headset on Ivo and through his earwig to Anton, Sergei, Niko, and Johnny- who could barely hear it.
"Tell him 'approval Delta 945' and there should be zero trouble with getting the flight off." Johnny pocketed his phone and gave a half smile to Niko, turning to see how close of a call it was going to be with the calvary arriving to help against the rival gang. They had maybe five to six minutes to get into their positions and taxi the plane out to the runway. And not enough time for his men to finish off the ambush on their home base and get to the airfield to protect their leader.
"They heard. Thank you. Move out! Wheels up in four! Let's go!" Niko walked over to an industrial dolly and started moving it out of the hanger and onto the sandy markings of the faded 'driveway' for the plane. The metal, heavy duty crates stacked overly high should give them plenty of cover to allow the plane to cycle up to takeoff speed.
"Yer gonna need more for the feet." Trevor instantly knew that Niko was setting up a barricade to protect the plane and themselves. He lifted a couple of sandbags and started to pile them up along the opening between the bottom of the dolly and the heated sand below. Sergei dropped a small pile in the middle of the cover and saluted Trevor.
Anton tried so hard to not moan through the tremendous pain in his chest as his feet connected to the solid ground. He had waved Sergei off to go help Trevor but was now regretting it. His vision was beginning to tunnel and the telltale signs of passing out flooded every inch of his body. The knees shook. The arms dropped away from the bloody mess that was his chest. And with one last look out of the hanger to the beautiful blue skies, he let his body go.
"Woah, woah there pal!" Trevor rushed over from going back and forth with loading sandbags to catch Anton under his arm. His weight pulled against Trevor and forced him to jerk Anton up some to adjust his hold. The dreadful scream from the movement rattled him to the core. There was no faking or over exaggerating. That was genuine pain… The kill shot working to accomplish what it was tasked with.
"I-I-!"
"All good. Let's get you boarded." Trevor flung his rifle to his back and tucked his pistol away, just as Sergei joined his side to help carry the grievously wounded captain.
"Will you be able to navigate us to the skies?" Sergei copied Trevor's hold and began taking very small baby steps toward the waiting open door of Kenny's private jet.
"It's- it no-not hard." Anton felt like he was needing to heave in large gulps of air to just stay awake and lucid. And the pain of doing so stabbed him deeply to snatch his breath away. Each step was another blade shoved into his torso. He forced his head to move so he could see how much further they had to go. His sight stretched the length out before making the idea of walking a horrible plan.
"Almost there boss. Just keep awake. Focus on that. We will get you to safety." Sergei spoke in Russian to hopefully lessen the burden of translating or responding in a second or third language. He could only imagine how hard his brain worked on over time to stop the hemorrhaging of his body.
"Mmm." Anton barely squeaked out when his knee gave a drop, only to have Trevor and Sergei lift him up again. The movement was excruciating. And his conscience was begging to just let go and rest. To return to that beautiful meadow in the mountains where his childhood home rested. He weakly looked around for his boss wanting to actually say goodbye this time and not fade away.
"Ivo will get you all fixed up, here we go." Sergei paused at the foot of the stairs and took hold of the stretcher basket with his free arm. Trevor mirrored his move and carefully they both leaned Anton into the basket and strapped him in. Trevor jumped up the side of the staircase to be at the top of the basket to help pull it up and inside the humming plane.
"Jesus dude. Watch it on the sweets from now on will ya?" Trevor snorted as he yanked on the cloth tethers to get Anton that much closer to the top.
"Hahah- OWwwwww" A shaky, fractured cry drowned out Anton's laughter as each chuckle was a continuous hammering of his ribcage. Fresh blood sputtered from his chapped lips and rolled down from the corner creases. There was a gentle urging inside him. It didn't feel scary or wrong. It felt warm, soft, and oh so welcoming.
"Stay with us boss. Fight the angel of death. Keep that heart of yours beating." Ivo emerged from the cockpit and joined Trevor's side to haul Anton up the last step and flat to the floor, "Trevor help me shift him and slide him down the aisle. Need all the room we can get for the rest of us to board."
Trevor grunted in response and did as asked. He felt bad for the guy- his chest was shredded open, and he probably had several broken ribs causing internal damage with each dreaded breath. It was a feat that he was even coherent with the level of injury thrusted upon him. With every pull on the gurney basket elicited another whimper hidden behind strange words in a language Trevor did not understand.
"T! Sergei! Outside now! Gotta move!" Niko's voice echoed up into the plane alerting them of the danger coming their way.
"You finish the starting checklist; I'll get this bird pulled free from the hanger and to the taxiway. Go!" Sergei met Ivo at the top of the steps and thumped his chest in their salute, "I will cover Pakhan."
"As you have asked it, it shall be done boss." Ivo cracked a small smile at the exaggerated eye roll of his new interim boss. He returned the salute and scurried back into the captain's seat to load the flight plan into the computer. If he was needing to be the one to take off and navigate the skies he was going to need all the help he could get.
"Ya good?" Trevor stepped carefully around Anton's prone body and looked down to stare at the bloody, shredded mess. It made his own chest hurt and his toes curl. He may run dangerous attacks on shipping crates which could have resulted in being shot up, but staring down at the struggling breathing of someone who took a bullet for their boss? His mind somewhat offered him the chance to back out and not be put in these situations…
'What the fuck am I thinking?! Let's do this baby!'
Anton shook severely, but managed to give the thumbs up to the madman he was originally going to simply kill for offending Johnny. And like before with all the other precarious near death's, Niko had chosen to keep him alive. A thought he would think on as he rested in the safety of Pakhan's plane. 'If only they had given me a blanket, fucking cold in here…'
Trevor returned the salute and merrily skipped to the open door and to the kill line, missing the movement in the back of the plane. His own personal shooting range awaited him and his gun. Thoughts of epic killings and raging through the crowd of bikers had him shuddering in an entirely different way.
"Call it out erh- uh ya crazy euro killer!" If Niko was going to be calling out his nickname that only those closest to him called him by, then he was going to come up with his own nickname or phrase for Niko. It would be amusing to call him by some ridiculous name in front of other table members or whoever held power, just to see their reactions of shock.
"Serbian. And Niko is fine." Niko didn't bother to look up from loading a rocket launcher and standing it up on the 'fort wall' of metal crates.
'Oh. Euro Killer it is mother fucker. You haven't seen nothing yet.' Trevor laughed off the indifference shot his way and lightly punched Sergei's arm as he passed him to find the best killing spot along the long line of barricades. If he was now part of the group, then they were going to have to learn real quick how he dishes out the sarcasm, and when he was serious. One massive learning curve.
Sergei did a double take at the sign of camaraderie and openly stared at Trevor's back as he climbed a larger crate to stand on it and shoot the enemies from the high ground. His eyes darted over to Niko to see if he had seen the interaction and if it was okay to lower the professionalism around their recently acquired partner. Niko gave a halfhearted one shoulder shrug and kept at loading weapons and placing them where he could grab them, if needed.
"No Niko ain't fine. We are partners now! Gotta have a cool code name. I'll go first. Uhhh. Crazy man!" Trevor shifted his rifle along the smooth edge of the crate and figured out where the best place to fire would be. And still give him cover when it came time to reload.
"How 'bout the crazy dude…" Johnny whispered under his breath as he slammed the compartment to a light machine gun shut, "Trevor we don't need code names. Boss where do you want me to set up shop?" Johnny sighed and rolled his shoulders to loosen up his muscles. The fight was far from over and he would definitely be feeling it afterwards.
"Guard the plane as it moves out of the hanger. Mow down anyone getting close or targeting the engines." Niko lifted the soviet era rocket launcher upon his shoulder, "And uh cowboy don't miss and hit one of us."
Trevor let out a loud cackle of laughter with the perfect delivery of a new nickname for Johnny, "I am savin' that one. Uh huh. Cowboy. Priceless." Trevor used the back of his hand to wipe away a couple of tears that were formed from his obnoxious laughter.
"I'd hold it back or you'll end up being called the creepy one." Niko felt a smirk lift the corner of his lips, "What do you say? Should I send them a present?"
"Fuck yeah! Blast those mother fuckers off the face of the planet!" Trevor hooped and hollered while finding the one kill he would start with before moving on to the next, and the next, and the next.
"Show 'em boss!" Johnny tossed the strap over his shoulder for the machine gun and walked as fast as he could with the added weight to guard the driver side of the rental car. He would walk with the car as it pulled the plane free to keep anyone from shooting Sergei and disrupting his boss' escape plan, "Nonstop service to LC is now preparing for takeoff."
"Half wish I was going with you." Trevor raised his hand and did a mocking military salute down to Johnny. That was his signal he was ready, and he agreed with Johnny's placement for the ensuing gunfight.
"Trust me. You don't" Niko's voice resumed the coldness and bitterness that came with letting the assassin take the wheel, so to speak.
"Geez talk about a buzz kill!" Trevor jokingly threw out, "On your mark."
"Romeo Uniform Sierra 1406, you are a no go for takeoff- Please power down and park. Repeat- You are a no go for flight plan Sandy Shores to Liberty City at 1230 Zulu." An alarm blared loudly within the airfield causing everyone to recoil and cover their ears.
"What is that!" Niko shouted doing his best to tuck his ear to his shoulder to block the annoying blaring siren from causing interference.
"Uhhh hold on!" Ivo flipped through the preflight book looking for some kind of override phrase, "This is Romeo Uniform Sierra 1406 to Liberty City. Emergency takeoff requested."
"They are getting closer!" Johnny yelled as he sidestepped along with the crawling rental car. The engine whined with every press of the gas pedal. The weight was probably too much for the luxury car, "Tell them Johnny is requesting it!"
"Uhh guys? Does that look like your friendly neighborhood Lost MC crowd? Or am I just seeing things again?" Trevor shifted to target the tower to maybe fire off a warning shot. But ended up spotting a couple of rapidly approaching motorcycles from the direction of the tower.
'Why are we even listening to the damn tower?! Just take off damnit!'
"Niko! Patches?!" Johnny attempted to yell over the engines powering up, ignoring the command to stand down.
"Negative! Definitely Angels of Death and I think it's time I put their name to good use!" Niko targeted the lead bike and pulled the trigger back on the rocket launcher. The hiss nearly took his hearing with it as it shot off to its intended target.
"Here we gooooo-"
"-ooaaAAhhHHH!" Georgi yelled as he landed a roundhouse kick to the punching bag Anatoly was death gripping. Well. Was gripping. The poor bag broke loose of its hook and fell sideways with the force of Georgi's shin and leg. Anatoly simply watched it smack the gymnastics spring floor and blink unamused at having to start all this over again.
"That would be Pakhan four, punching bag aka me zero." Anatoly sighed and went to pick up the hefty punching bag to once more hang it from the ceiling hook, "Here comes five I bet…"
"What was that?" Georgi bounced from foot to foot and rolled a shoulder socket to keep warm. He had kept missing his chance to fall into 'the zone' and was getting frustrated with-
Every.
Single.
Distraction.
The noise in the room was building and he wanted to recoil in annoyance with each yelp of pain or cry to stop that shot to his clearly unfocused ears. The pounding of flesh against padded bodies. The whining screech every time the door was open and closed to the locker room. The metal slam and release of the push bar to the gym.
He swore if he heard one more kid get hit for no reason he was going to have to report to Pakhan with his unfortunate dispatching of ranked training member of the Bratva.
"Oh nothing my dear! Just wondering If you have tired of slaying the poor Punchman and wanted to perhaps spar with a more worthy opponent?" Anatoly crossed his arms from his holding spot and tilted his head to the side. They had been at this for hours now and were nowhere even remotely close to getting Georgi to talk through his predicament. His worry from earlier was starting to creep up his spine. With every targeted hit, Anatoly could see Georgi visualizing someone's body over the cracked, worn out vinal. He sucked his teeth and simply gave his best friend the look.
The look that screamed from the heavens that they knew what was happening.
That the person was shutting down instead of working the problem out.
That Georgi was fighting himself and not the punching bag.
Georgi was internalizing events around him.
Georgi was losing the fight.
"Just hang it back up." Georgi slightly panted between his words and bobbing. He didn't have time for chitchat. He needed a target before him so he could take out his anger and pain. Damn everything else.
"Because I can- No." Anatoly squared his shoulders and held his ground. This was worsening the problem the longer they stood in one spot- ignoring the warning signs before them. Also the raising volume of the teacher berating the students was getting harder and harder to ignore. It was his job to call out bad coaching. They weren't in the Bratva to be talked down to. They joined to protect Pakhan and make money.
"Tisk Fuck off then. I'll just bolt the bottom so you can go about your day." Georgi blew through his nose and went to pick up the innocently knocked over punching bag. He couldn't have time between punches and kicks. It left too much room for his brain to start thinking about-
Thinking about yelling his head off at Niko for swearing off Kate's innocence.
Thinking about attacking Niko the second they were left alone. Kate did not deserve it.
Thinking about plopping down next to Kate's bed and ignoring all his other responsibilities for the moment.
Thinking about how to circumvent telling Kate and forcing Niko to do it.
Thinking about the painfilled strikes from the students next to their ring.
Thinking about Lova.
Thinking about-
Thinking about-
Thinking-
"AAARRRGGGHHHH! What the fuck is wrong with you?! You are supposed to be helping me!" Georgi let out a yell with how frustrating his brain was working at the moment. This wasn't like him. This wasn't Georgi- the collected, quick thinker, and expectant servant.
"What is wrong with you?! Just who are we battling here hmm? We tearing down an enemy who is dead in our medical freezer? The head of a rival mafia? Or are we striking at Pakhan? Nah. That's not it. It's you. You picture yourself don't you?!" Anatoly let the Russian rip as it was harder and harder to sound mad in a language that didn't fit his accent.
"I don't know alright! Fuck..!" Georgi bent over and placed his gloved hands over his knees gasping for air. As usual, Anatoly hit the nail on the head. It was probably why he tended to seek him out when things got really complex and convoluted. His eye twitched with the sound of someone being forcefully slammed into a workout mat.
His hands curled into extreme fists, his shoulders rising up to straighten out his spine. Eyes dangerously sliding over to a more worthy target.
"I can see how this isn't helping you Geo. You need to actually face your problems instead of hidin- What are you doing? Hey! Wait! Staaaaahhpuh… Don't do thi- Ah fuck he's doing it." Anatoly scrambled to shuck his hands free of the fingerless boxing mitts and put himself in the path Georgie was storming down. He lifted the ring ropes and slid under them, "Wait! Come on Geo!"
Georgi yanked his gloves off his taped-up fingers and threw them to the side as he watched the instructor grip a younger child's throat and slam them down into the padded mat, exposing the opening they had given the teacher on accident. The kid had let out a yelp of pain when their head snapped slightly with the motion.
"Give it a rest!" A younger male stood up from his place of the mat, fed up with simply sitting and watching the instructor beat up on weaker kids.
"Front and center then, you can have this one's punishment!" The teacher roughly raised his voice at the male, shoving the kid to the side, completely oblivious to the absolute shit storm headed his way.
Georgi's eyes snapped to the one who was interfering and halted his march. Anatoly slammed into his back and started to complain before a raised bruised hand and wrist motioned stay silent. He wanted to see just how well Abram held out in his newfound confidence to stand up for those who were weaker than him.
"Shush. This is the kid who caught my interest." Georgi whispered over his shoulder and into Anatoly's hair, who had dropped his chin down to rest on the sweaty skin of Georgi.
"He does have your little crease that forms along your brow line when you have a task consume you to the point of madness." Anatoly wickedly smirked as he caught the backward jab from Georgi, "Now who taught you that move?"
"Later. Come on kid. Stand up for the Bratva." Georgi lowly whispered and didn't care that Anatoly was practically draped over his glisten, firm skin. He had taken off his shirt within five minutes of hitting the punching bad silly. The room had become too hot for his liking after that.
"I'd hardly call that a punishment! You are just beating up on us with no academic value. Are we just supposed to get our asses kicked on the corner? Lost the product because all we know is failure?!" Abram rapidly approached his teacher and lifted his hands, knuckles slightly bent allowing for a grab or jab easily.
"You lose product boy and Pakhan will see you whipped!" The teacher swiftly smacked Abram's hands to the side and only frowned when they returned to the ready position, "The fuck is this boy? You don't backtalk during a lesson!"
"You do not know Pakhan. You don't even hold his ear!" Abram launched forward and entered a cadence and circle movement he had recently mastered. The teacher of course read his moves as if they were on the pages of a textbook. Hastily made blocks, swats, and shifts into Abrams personal space had a devilish smirk growing on the older man's face.
"I don't need his ear to report that the bastard son of Vanya can't throw a strike to save his life!" Venom spewed from the instructor's sneer, as he once more targeted Abram's telltale opening. But there was something more murderous in his eyes as he darted his hand diagonally down to tuck grubby digits below Abram's ribcage.
Georgi saw the move long before the teacher planned to use it. And felt his throat clog with boiling vodka when the instructor actually went for the forbidden move during a training session.
"Sweet Lenny's Choir Voice!"
Georgi elbowed the blasted arm and made sure to strike it where he'd feel it for a week or so. He caught the quicker jab to his face, and sidestepped into the fight, taking Abram's place. A darkness swirled behind Georgi's eyes. This was going to be the cruelest beatdown he ever gave someone. The man in the hospital room had been over before he could even blink an eye. The bitch down in the ER wing had stirred his need to fight ooze through him. And each opportunity to get a taste of a dirty brawl was extinguished without so much of a warning.
'This time I think I'll quit holding back…'
Georgi narrowed his eyes before dropping from the teacher's face and leg chopped the knobby legs out from under the 'oh shit' face plastered to the instructor's beady eyes.
The teacher twisted a quarter turn and backflipped away from the chasing strike of Georgi's powerhouse kick. Fury and wrath seeped into each person's face and the ensuing missed jabs descended into less and less friendly zoned spaces.
"Look at you! Clout got you so fuckin' blind to how things run 'round my parts?! Or did you forget whose roll I stepped in for security ops? That night?" The teacher cackled as they blocked a rapid concession of punches, only to grab the wrist of the last jab and sidestepped it snapping it straight out in front of them both, "I'd say clout, but it looks like a different sweaty musk has your head all wrapped?"
"You are the delusionally insane!" Georgi thrusted their joined hands backward into a solid thwack of a cracked ribcage, "I was on side chick duty the night Kenny took off for LS!" He bent forward and flipped over their joined limbs, twisting the other in a painful angle.
"Not that night…" He yanked his arm free and went for a running knee jab to Georgi's torso, "According to the logbooks you were on hunt for a specific person of interest in the death of Lenny. Weren't you!"
The shock of that knowledge being out in the open wasn't something that was possible. He had learned his mistake and returned to Kenny at the compound to explain his misdeed. Nothing had happened and he never once uttered a word to anyone. Not even… Georgi slapped the knee down to the floor and put his force behind the punch to the man's face, before looking up at his longtime friend. The one he had traded duties in.
Anatoly would oversee Kenny and Avia's last night that could be excused as mourning to Kenny's wife…
To allow Georgi the dark hours to track down a lead given to him from two deep blue eyes, watered down in anguish, and blonde hair loose to fall around shaking shoulders... It was one of the few times he had let a pretty face and large tears sway his assigned task. So much was left unknown to them all. And Georgi could've sworn he was doing the Bratva a favor-
An upbeat Celtic jive lighted up the cooling fading summer months, twinkle lights flickered like lightening bugs amongst the trees; till the pure joy-filled laugh stopped him in his tracks within the shadows.
"So you have no idea the level of lies your counsin-sou-cousin was feeding YOU?!" Enthralled, drunken, but so full of hope clung to the words of the female he was sent to track down. She was meant to have the name of Lenny's killer.
"Humph. He did get one thing right. The cockroaches were the sizes of babies!" Niko wheezed his laugh trying to keep their voices from filling the entire beer garden.
"Aww we-hiccup-well you'll have to introduceee-intra to little roachy!" Her laughter instantly had his mission needing to be reconsidered immediately. There was zero chance the woman naming a large city cockroach had anything to do with Lenny's killer. The vial of snake venom slipped up his sleeve as he casually walked by, feeling the eyes of the gentleman, to enter the bar with a clear line to the mostly unsuspecting drunken couple.
So why was that night in particular being brought up? His distraction was just enough to take a sucker punch to the gut, "I see I've caught your attention! Listen up pupils! It's not just physical attack that can throw your opponent off balance, it's your words and knowledge of your enemies!" He fisted his hands into Georgi's sweaty mess and mashed his face down toward the waiting knee.
"And YOU talk too much! Ziad!" Anatoly locked the teacher in a headlock and mimicked three deep stabs to a vulnerable spot on Ziad's side, letting his thumb's knuckle slide between two ribs, when punctured by a thin sharp rod would have struck his beating heart.
"You were always his to sleep with at night… When it wasn't our precious Natalya. He'd- He's banging that redheaded whore too!" Ziad stomped down on Anatoly's foot and smashed his head back into the unprotected nose, letting his sneer deepen with the audible crack.
"What? You jealous you didn't get a pity fuck from that crazed bitch!?" Georgi charged Ziad and tackled him to the ground, both of them rolling and exchanging holds, only to break free and into a more lethal headlock.
Anatoly cupped his nose and jerked it back into place, glad for some of the rushed English instead of Russian. He wasn't sure how far the student's English lessons had reached, "Ziad I order you to stand down!"
"Fuck off! I'm finally getting my whack at the tartishly praised second! Everyone knew you two were fucking behind Lenny's back!" Ziad shoved his placed feet off of Georgi's chest and had the man stumbling back into Anatoly, "You were the one betraying Pakhan! Not I!"
"You want to know what betrayal feels like?!" Georgi brushed off Anatoly's light hold and released the fixed blade attached to his friend's thigh. He flipped and rolled the blade back and forth as the two seething men circled one another.
"Now students, this is not what training will be like. Let's call this real-world dick measuring contest. I mean! Blade. Knife measuring contest." Anatoly addressed the gathered group of level four sparring pupils, completely ignoring the lighthearted laughter from the growing crowd. Other one on one sessions broke to come over and see what the loud commotion was all about. And it only built the dread to higher levels the longer the blows weren't held back.
A flash of something from the corner of Georgi's eyes let him know this wasn't a spar.
It was life or death.
Bets started to murmur between other instructors and higher-ranking members within in the Bratva. If he didn't step in and stop the madness it was going to consume them all and then what kind of boat would they be sinking in?
The jab at Abram's fatherly status should've locked in everyone on Georgi's side, so why did it seem like people were rooting for Ziad?
And then to ignore the head instructor's order?
'Fuck it. We've all been needing something else to gossip about…'
Anatoly slowly arched in the opposite direction the fighting was rolling, "Now see here? Yes there! How Ziad left his less dominant side open! Ouch! Looks like a costly blow to a possibly fractured rib?" He caught Georgi's follow through strike and shoved it outward to avoid hitting Ziad's wounded side, while also cupping Ziad's rising knee to keep him from hitting Georgi's exposed thigh.
Both men snapped their enraged snarls at Anatoly and hopped slightly as their rhythm was thrown off balance, "I do believe Ziad's next go to would be to illusion out and hit Georgi's unsuspecting side with a nasty heel to the cheekbone." As he explained the move he leaned back to catch Ziad's heel, "And Georgi? Would you be a dear and roll out of the would be strike to set up your retaliation?"
The class snickered but was completely enthralled with how well Anatoly stepped in, explained weight and movement needed to throw more complex moves and cadences. Even with the added fighter it didn't deter either Georgi or Ziad from going for each other's throats. They basically danced around Anatoly and kept getting more and more agitated the longer it took to hit one another. The crowd followed as they spread out in a double deep audience, not wanting to miss a single second.
"Oily! Move it!" Georgi grunted as he flipped the direction of his go to strike with the fixed blade to drop it and catch it with his other hand, going for the tendon on Ziad's knee.
"Yeah Oil-ie why don't you move it!" Ziad snickered with the nickname but crumbled to the ground when Anatoly let Georgi's jaw punch slide past him. The expectant round of laugher wasn't as strong as the last and it irritated him that his own students weren't backing him in this fight. He gave the crowd a once over and leveled the center of the parting students with rage.
"Your opponent, or partner in any fight, students, is not to be completely trusted to have your best interests at heart. It's why we make teams of differing skill sets and complimentary fighting styles." Anatoly glared down at Ziad before cupping Georgi's throat and shoved him back a step or two, "And you need to cool it."
"You're right!" Ziad drew his own blade and jabbed it to the hilt in Anatoly's thigh, being sure to not hit anything too lethal. Well maybe. He didn't exactly take a millisecond to judge where he was lashing out at.
"You do not fight with honor!" Abram jumped between Ziad's backswing and the next one aimed at the carotid artery. Blood splattered as the knife stabbed through Abram's hand, stopping it an inch from nicking Georgi's throat, who had also seen the threat and went to intercept it, knocking Anatoly back and putting his body between his friend and the kill strike.
Silence dropped the entire room to an icy chill. No one dared to move, no one couldmove. Everyone's glued attention from the brawl before them sharply twisted to the petite figure standing front and center. Students bowed their heads out of respect and removed any caps if they were wearing one. Anger masked fear clouded bloodshot emerald, green eyes that locked on the man holding the knife.
"You wish to kill my men?" The words weren't raised. A spookily hushed question that could have been shouted from the rooftops with the way the crowd dropped to a knee and recoiled in fear of their own life. It wasn't so much out of fright by her presence, but by what slowly made a trek up from her side.
Darko's gun was a steady, unmoving weight as the crosshairs targeted the paling complexion of Ziad.
"Answer me!"Kate barked snapping the safety off and gingerly taking the offered hand to step up on the raised springboard flood, "I wake, alone, with no protection, no indication as to why I am in that bed, only to once more wander the halls of MY house to come across my most trusted guardian in a fight for his and other's lives."
The shake started below her navel, but she forced herself to stay on target. Niko's thick jacket would be all the shielding she would need.
"Where is Anton? Or Aleksei? Hm?" She lifted her eyebrow at the lost stares she received in return for a rather simple question.
"Georgi!"
"They are on mission-"
"And Ni-Niko? Where is Pakhan?" Her anger was beginning to give way to sheer panic and from where it came was freaking her out more than the bleeding two males in front of her.
"Высочество (vysochestvo) if you will allow me to explain-!" Ziad started to speak up before Kate took another step closer and lowered her aim to between rueful stormy eyes.
"English. I don't wish to have my ears stained with whatever excuse you concoct." Kate recognized the disdain that had once consumed Boris' face. She had already messed up one time and refused to have a similar situation befall her again. Especially when Niko was yet again, nowhere to be seen, "Fine," Kate huffed loudly, "объяснять (yasnyat, explain)!"
"Your highness, betrothed to Pakhan, this is all one giant miss… mis-misunderstanding." Anatoly felt the heat trickle down his leg, and he tightened all his muscles to keep from shaking in front of Niko's stand in equal. Georgi would know best about how they all worked, but the title fell to her feet. He had seen the blank look she shot him as he began in Russian and swallowed his pride to communicate to her in a language they shared.
"You are injured. He do this?" Kate nudged the gun in Ziad's direction but looked to Georgi for confirmation.
"Forgiveness ma'am- uhhh my lady?" Anatoly this time snapped his jaw shut and quivered under the dagger of a glare that was sent his way.
"Ziad, state your name, rank, and discretion. Now." Georgi read Kate like a book and could tell under the surface she was losing it. But he highly doubted she knew the real reason her body was in distress.
"I don't think you will be needing rank anymore! Did. You. Stab. Him?" Kate allowed the gentlemen that helped her step up on the raised platform to offer his hand once more to move her closer to the four men who had started fighting. She could only imagine the image she made up. Black sweats with the gaudiest looking gold crest plastered over her left thigh, with a matching white t-shirt in red and gold finery thread embellishing the same symbol to the back under the bold black letters of PAKHAN. All tucked beneath the solid layer of Niko. The jacket that had provided her comfort each and every time she wore it.
"Да (Da, yes)!" Ziad slammed his mouth shut when she approached him to place the tip of the gun to the crown of his head, refusing to look down and show her indifference.
"Bow your head. If you show Niko the same level of respect, then I demand it was well. And seeing as how he is not present, that would make my word law, Да (Da, yes)?" Kate never once let her voice get above a normal decibel of talking. Didn't need to.
"Please don't make me beg."
"Never. Though you do have a gun, you could always persuade me to sit down." He chuckled when she snorted trying to cover her laugh. He decided he would stand by, close enough for her to touch him, but until he knew how Francis would react, he wouldn't sit next to her.
"Not that I know how to use it, I would be pretty lousy at intimidation."
"I doubt that. You have good aim at darts, shooting is slightly different. But the aim is the same. You don't always have to fire the weapon, the sight of one can get the point across just as well as shooting it." He walked over and leaned against the fireplace, she was within reach, and he saw the slight confusion flash in her eyes. "I will stand till Francis comes back in. It will be easier to fight him off if he charges me again."
God love Florian for giving her exact, to the wire, instructions on what to do should she need to throw weight around in Niko's absence. He refused to tell her anything more, but promised her that should she not find Georgi, she could return to the room, and he would explain what he could. The glint in his eye was the first time she felt the shudder from the church when they were in the back prayer room. Bernie was not talking to her. Florian, with the smooth as silk, deep threatening voice that coated her in a chill, spoke about titles, power, and how she wielded it all so long as Niko wasn't around.
Anatoly wobbled slightly under the strain of staying upright, and he could only imagine how poorly Abram was holding out with a damn knife penetrating his hand. But she had thrown out her word as law and that demanded his show of fidelity. He hobbled to take the weight off his injured leg and bowed his head, fist raising to his chest, "To give life, blood, body, and service to Pakhan's will. An unbreakable blood oath that forever ties me to the law held within the Bratva..."
Georgi bowed his head and held his hand out for her, "To give life, blood, body, and service to Pakhan's will. An unbreakable blood oath that forever ties me to the law held within the Bratva." He grasped her hand within both of his and kissed her ring finger, "Allow me to assist you Pakhan."
Echoed murmurs of the blood oath reverberated in the room and stood the hairs on the back of her neck on end. There was a charge in the room, and it was beyond any copious amount of alcohol could produce. Her body hummed with the recognition, and not in the way she thought she'd fear-
"Once a McReary, always a McReary…" Her Pa's proud and mollified voice rolled between her ears and had her finger slipping into the trigger guard and a moment away from pulling back and ending the situation she had found herself in several times since October.
-The crack of the branch snapping in half as it connected to the blonde hair
-The shot that could have snuffed Niko away from her
-Boris's crude sneer as she took Aleksei's gun…
"People don't change. You know this. It's not the person who changes, it's the circumstances that change."
aaaaaa
"Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday dear CzechKris! Happy birthday to me!"
I was going to keep going on this chapter, but man that last line hammers home the point quite well. And as my birthday present to you from me- I am posting this early. This next chapter is going to be a doozy I think. The daring escape back to Liberty, Kate's heartbreak, and the reunion of everyone back together in LC. Looking at my bullet point outline, I think I have about 10ish chapters left.
I think I've pushed Valentine's Day off for far too long- as well as um. Some well overdue fluffy steamy goodness.
The plot is coming to a close, I think?
And the last chapter I have a rough draft for just hits on every single level. I overdid myself I do believe. Y'all want a cliffy or cement closure?
Because depending on how this last leg of the story goes, it could go either way. I do have a third story plan in the works. Take the full journey from killing Dimitri to Niko and Kate's happily ever after – till the cycle eventually repeats and they are faced with yet another challenge…
Leading them across the country and into the building chaos that is Los Santos circa 2010.
Also I will take any and all requests for one shots from the timeline of gta iv or random scenes y'all'd want more in depth. Can't make any promises that they will get posted immediately, but maybe a change of pace will help me.