Vik (Shot Callers 2)

The older gentleman shrugged out of his coat, placing it into the crook of his arm, and said, “Artem Kozak.” He waited for a reaction, and as he glanced around at the faces of a generation too young to remember, he went on, “I suppose it was before your time. The Ukrainian underboss took New York by storm in the mid-’90s. He started as many of us did, laying claim to an area and running it, taxing the stores and dwellings until he made enough money to start running drugs. After a while, Artem formed Sorok Dev’Yat’. The Forty Nine.”

Sasha turned then, and his brow furrowed. “I know that name. Father has dealings with them. From what I remember, they were on good terms.”

“They were,” Laredo confirmed with a single nod. “Artem was a good businessman. He had a vision and used sheer logic to reach his goals. The man was emotionless. Cold. Cruel, even. But he got shit done. He was poised, and eloquent, and diplomatic. A charmer. Quickly earned the respect of outfits all over the country. He was an earner. Everyone wanted in with him. Even the elitist firms looked past his origins to form a truce. He wasn’t a man you wanted on your bad side.”

Frustration washed over me, and with a hand to my head, I closed my eyes and uttered, “No offence, ’Redo, but you planning on getting to your point anytime soon?”

Laredo’s usually warm countenance turned positively frosty as he glared at me. “That is my niece out there, boy.” I instantly felt contrite. Even more so when he said a chilly, “You aren’t the only one who loves her, Viktor, but you are the only one of us who has carelessly put her in danger.”

My gut clenched painfully.

It was hard, but I shut my mouth, because he was right.

Laredo took in a deep breath, releasing it before he stated, “Artem collected people into his fold. The broken, the unstable, the unloved. He once told me it was because he believed everyone needed a family.” A bad feeling shot through me. “Especially them.”

They were familiar words, ones that caused my chest to tighten.

I let out a caustic laugh and muttered an infuriated, “Fuck.”

And Laredo knowingly stated, “And he’s starting to get where this is going.”

My head began to pound. “Artem collected Roam.”

“That he did,” Laredo confirmed. “But even after assembling a small army, Artem saw something in the boy, and he claimed him as his own. He began to introduce him as his son, and when Artem needed messy work done, it was Roam he called upon. The stories about him are legendary. His lust for blood and appetite for violence were not only renowned but celebrated. Roam was a one-man militia. That boy, at eighteen years old, pulled off impossible jobs, taking the lives of countless soldiers, walking out of firm houses broken and bloody but alive. It was well-known that when Roam wanted something, he became obsessed with it, and whatever he went after, he got by any means necessary. Some say he’s insane, and I will not lie; I have seen things that would support that theory.” The man turned and spoke directly to me, “So, now you know. This is the person you indebted yourself to. A fucking madman. The Disciples are the most dangerous outfit on the streets right now, and they are in that position, because they are led by a psychopath who would happily set the city alight in order to stay on top.”

Yeah. That didn’t feel good. My stomach flexed with hidden anxiety.

Sasha exhaled slowly. “What do you suggest we do?”

“I don’t know,” Laredo instantly returned, then added, “but if you think you will solve anything with this man using threats and violence, you are fools. He gets off on a fight. He’s good at it, and he’s looking for one today. He has an army at his beck and call, and I guarantee he has a plan. I advise you play it smart. Offer him something he can use. You’re in with him now, and getting out will cost you more than you can afford.” He suddenly looked as defeated as the rest of us, and what he said next was quiet and full of contempt. “Better to be his partner than his enemy.”

He made it sound so rational, so easy, but the question remained…

How was I to do that?

I didn’t have anything to offer, only myself.

As the dust settled from the destruction I had caused, a somber thought dawned.

That woman was everything to me.

This was my doing, and if aligning myself with this nutcase was the only way to see Nastasia home safely, I would gladly sacrifice myself.

For her, I’d throw myself to the wolves and smile as they tore me apart.

Nastasia

I lifted my balled fist for the hundredth time and banged heavily on the closet door that conveniently had no handle from the inside. A sound of pure frustration left me before I called out, “Hey!”