02-07-2018, 10:41 AM
Three glasses. It took three glasses before pops could talk. Each one was like a punch to his gut. Pops drank. All Russians did. And he could put the, away. But it was watching sports. Laughing with friends. Sitting and reading. Any and everything.
But now....Pops drank for strength. For courage, now. Ivan's lip twisted, feeling uprooted, when he picked up that third glass in desperation and downed it in one gulp. He was afraid. Pops was afraid.
it was an answer. He already knew. He'd seen the video. Fucking Pol! And then he remembered Olena, bleeding out in Pol's arms. The story sounded stupid now. Routine traffic stop that makes and enemy of some dangerous son of someone or other. Ridiculous.
But the tears were real. The sobs that seemed ripped from the man's soul. Not seemed. They were ripped from his soul. Pol had other kids too. A wife. However they got in, both of them had been held, trapped.
But he wasn't gonna feel sorry for Pol. The memory of his ma and pop and brother and sister crying was too fresh.
His voice was dead. "Easy stuff. You were driving escort for one of their people and somehow got caught on camera. Convenient."
He snorted with contempt. They had targeted him a while ago, clearly. Had just been waiting till they had all their ducks lined up in a row. "Simple cleanup. But I know that it'll get more involved."
He got the vodka and poured himself a glass. He guessed he could use it too. "I made a mistake. Was trying to be a hero. Go after some bad guys off the record. To use a guy who was under investigation as help. Blew up in my face. Now they have that over me."
And while that bothered him- his stupidity- he also knew that if it was not one thing it was another. Even if nothing had happened, they still had his family.
It was gonna happen either way.
"Pop, who are they?"
But now....Pops drank for strength. For courage, now. Ivan's lip twisted, feeling uprooted, when he picked up that third glass in desperation and downed it in one gulp. He was afraid. Pops was afraid.
it was an answer. He already knew. He'd seen the video. Fucking Pol! And then he remembered Olena, bleeding out in Pol's arms. The story sounded stupid now. Routine traffic stop that makes and enemy of some dangerous son of someone or other. Ridiculous.
But the tears were real. The sobs that seemed ripped from the man's soul. Not seemed. They were ripped from his soul. Pol had other kids too. A wife. However they got in, both of them had been held, trapped.
But he wasn't gonna feel sorry for Pol. The memory of his ma and pop and brother and sister crying was too fresh.
His voice was dead. "Easy stuff. You were driving escort for one of their people and somehow got caught on camera. Convenient."
He snorted with contempt. They had targeted him a while ago, clearly. Had just been waiting till they had all their ducks lined up in a row. "Simple cleanup. But I know that it'll get more involved."
He got the vodka and poured himself a glass. He guessed he could use it too. "I made a mistake. Was trying to be a hero. Go after some bad guys off the record. To use a guy who was under investigation as help. Blew up in my face. Now they have that over me."
And while that bothered him- his stupidity- he also knew that if it was not one thing it was another. Even if nothing had happened, they still had his family.
It was gonna happen either way.
"Pop, who are they?"