"Like his eyes ..." It flashed in the mind.
He angrily shook off the ashes from a cigarette and put out a cigarette butt in a tin with water. These memories made him cease smoking abruptly, and also look at the sky.
Nazar went inside and quietly closed the balcony door. Natashka did not wake up from his walking, but only wrapped the blanket more tightly around her. Her blond, bleached hair lay on a pillow in long, tangled strands. In the room there was a smell of smoke; two drunken champagne bottles and a half-empty bottle of vodka were lying on the floor. Faded cucumbers and half-melted cake did not arouse a desire to eat them.
Feeling dry mouth from yesterday's drunk, Nazar went to the kitchen where he put the kettle on the burner.
His thoughts returned to yesterday evening. In general, he was pleased with everything and even, probably, happy ... Although yesterday, after drinking, he was really happy, looking at his Natashka with eyes full of passion. She was a beauty, a blonde with long legs and a painted face. He was a little annoyed by her eternal war-paint, which was then smeared on her face in a fit of their passion, but that was later. And yesterday she was sitting across from him in a miniskirt so that he observed her “allow yourself to indulge in everything” in all details. And this contemplation of the beauty and the consumed amount of alcohol led to a stormy and passionate night. Natashka moaned loudly and with dedication did everything for him that he only had dreamed of the girl in bed. Although he may have dreamed of a more modest person, this was due to sobriety, but if he was drunk, Natashka was even very helpful. That's how they were screwing half the night. Then she fell asleep, snoring drunkenly into the pillow, but he somehow sharply sobered up and was languishing to dawn, trying to fall asleep, but could not. That is why, when the first rays of the sun began to illuminate the darkness of the room, he went out to the balcony to smoke and saw this sky ... Only in the soul these foolish memories immediately surfaced ... his eyes from under the cap, looking at him ... and for some reason, it became ugly inside him and he was disgusted with himself.
The whistle of the teapot brought Nazar out of the strange stupor in which he arrived. Brewing tea and slowly sipping it, he saw a sleepy Natasha in a depravedly short silk nightie walking to the toilet. When she left, he called her.
"Natus ... there is a conversation. Come on."
"I want to sleep," ugly yawning, Natasha slowly walked to Nazar, who was sitting on a stool.
"I have to leave, so I want to say. Yesterday I wanted to tell you ... let's get married."
There was an awkward silence. Nazar had never made such offers to girls and, in fact, did not know how to do it or what to say. But long ago having made such a decision in his life about marriage, he decided to act according to the situation. And now he was sitting and waiting for her to respond to his words.
Natasha sat on his knee and turned over his matted hair at the top of his head. On her face there were traces of the flowed mascara, because of this, one eye was brighter than the other one. She puffed up her plump lips, which had become even plumper from her yesterday efforts.
"I need to think…"
"We seem to have been together for a year already..."
"Well, not really ... you are constantly with your boys, you have a business ... and so occasionally visit me."
"I earn money and, by the way, for your and my living. This is my life and I will always live this way, and the money is not superfluous to us, and you love them too. You wanted a fur coat - I bought it for you and you have so many trinkets with rock candies, as a New Year tree hung with them. Nothing is too good for you. I want you to have everything, everything you want, that's why I work."
"Nazarushka, let’s live on like this for now ... Well, where are we to hurry?"
"Did you not walk up yet?" Nazar’s glance darkened. Natashka, in fear, froze in his lap, seeing the yellow sparkles in his eyes, which did not promise well.
"Well, no ...what, you didn’t understand me that way ..." She bleated, not knowing what to say.
"Do you have someone else?" his voice was strangely alien.
"No one! I love you! Only you," Natasha began to cover his face with kisses and Nazar thawed.
After the reconciliation prevailed, they talked a little more about plans for the future, and Nazar decided that he was probably too harsh with his beloved about this marriage. Perhaps she was right. She needed more time, and he would wait. After all, he loved her ... probably loved ... Although for some reason he was not sure of it somewhere deep down, he drove away these doubts. He clearly knew what he wanted from this life, and he wanted to rise above the crowd, and start a family - a wife and children. This was his goal, which he set for himself way back in 1986, when he joined the army, and he was immediately sent to Afghan. And there, seeing how his friends were dying and how his hands were in the blood of those whom he had killed not for great purposes, but to save himself and for the lives of his comrades, then he thought a lot about the meaning of life and swore that if he returned from this hell alive, no one and nothing would stop him on the path to his goal. He would no longer be a limp pawn that big men sent to the war for their own interests to please themselves. No, he would manage and dispose of those who are not capable of it. For this he needed money, which gave power. Therefore, after returning from Afghanistan, he immediately came to those who in their area had real power - to the mobsters. And there, in a short period of time within five years, he proved himself and from the ordinary militant of the brigade rose to its leader, thanks to his intelligence, fearlessness and purpose in life.
Now, having reached a certain stage and entrenched in the structure of power and having money, he decided that it was time to think about the family. He met Natasha by chance. A year ago, at the disco, he fought her off from some freaks, and since that moment they were having an amorous relationship. Having considered her candidacy for the role of his wife, he decided that she met all his requirements and dreams. She was a beautiful tall blonde with a bright appearance, besides she was a good cook, and her apartment was always clean and cozy. He liked her, her chirping about clothes and girlfriends did not bother him, after the guys’ talking he rested, listening to her ingenuous conclusions. All this taken together led him to the idea that he had found the one he had dreamed of. He wanted to make an offer to her just yesterday, but somehow everything began to turn: the drink, then the passion that flashed between them, and only this morning he came to talk with her about it.
Her not very happy perception of his proposal hurt Nazar a little, but he didn’t show it either ... Women are crazy, what could you expect from them? So his sidekick, Yefim, always reasoned and he was right. That's why he did not become angry with Natasha but decided to give her time to think about his proposal.
***
His day was intense. Moreover, this putsch brought variety to their not boring gangster life. Actually, they didn’t care what was happening in this country. They only tried not to get into the crowds of demonstrators and not to catch hell during this period of time, when those were crushed by tanks and fired at them. Mobsters only watched all this rigmarole from the side, realizing that the power was been dividing up there, and now it was better not to be in the light so as not to get into the common disaster. With all this, their business had not been canceled, and the places they controlled needed to be checked, they had to keep order in the prevailing chaos and to collect bribes. During these days, they even felt additional injections into the brigade common cash fund due to a shortage of products and a total deficit of everything. It was only to their advantage. The places under their control were actively supplied from their warehouses with products that literally swept away everything to zero, and at a price that was several times higher.
At lunch, all the guys went to the restaurant, where they sat down at a large table and called the waiter and ordered everything and more.
Yefim, knowing the heart affairs of Nazar, leaned toward him so that only he could hear, asked,
"You are sad today ... do you have a falling out with Natashka?"
"No ... I proposed to marry her, but she answered she would think."
Yefim had watched the love story of his friend for a long time, and several times he had seen this Natashka.
"Ignore her, what have you found in her? Well, she has to be glad to get married ... maybe it is better, that she’s refused."
"She did not refuse and said that she would think."
"Okay, don't feel bad. If you like her, I will be happy to make merry at your wedding."
Nazar smiled frowningly, realizing that he was not happy with all this. But what with? He was not happy with either the wedding, which had not yet taken place or the fact that it could take place. The strange state inside did not give him peace and certainty. The certainty that he had before ... before the case with this, with a tail...
"By the way, we have not been to Petrovich for a long time." Nazar looked up from his plate of food and looked at Yefim.
He also looked at him only that was somehow strange. Nazar averted his eyes, pretending to be passionate about cutting meat on plates.
"Today, we can go ... only at first let’s meet with Arkhipovskie, and then we will go to Petrovich."
Their conversation was heard by the possy sitting next to him and he said briskly.
"And we will check this pattled fag whether he has his hair cut or not. He was given common cash, and for it the answer must be kept before the mob."
"Maybe he had cut his hair," Yefim answered hoarsely, continuing to watch Nazar’s face, "if not then the answer will be kept. So, will we go to Petrovich after the “gathering”?"
Nazar affirmatively nodded his head and again turned to food, which had become tasteless, but he forced himself to eat, constantly feeling Yefim’s gaze on himself.
The music played softly in the restaurant until one of the drunken old mobsters demanded Apina to be turned on. And when the voice of the singer came from the speakers, the guys began to sing along the chorus about the plush skirt, adding vulgar comments and parodying this very Ksyusha. The other visitors of the restaurant, when mobs appeared, first fell silent, and then seeing that the fun was increasing, quickly retreated to the street.
Having had lunch in such high spirits, they sat down in five cars and drove behind the Moscow Ring Road at the gathering with Arkhipovskie.
Nazar assumed that this meeting would not end well, so he reloaded his pistol in the car and put it back in the belt of his jeans. Yefim followed suit.
The weather today was dry and sunny, although it was already November. Their cars stopped in front of the four cars standing by the guys from the Arkhip’s Brigade. Those arrived earlier and stood defiantly smoking and holding Kalashes in their hands. The fact that they, too, were in a serious mood could be seen from their behavior and the fact that when Nazar approached them, they did not even deign to take a step towards him.
Nazar went first, giving a sign to his guys hold on behind him. He clearly tracked all the people in front of him, and even those three who were hiding in the bushes on the side of the road. He immediately noticed them, such things did not elude the glance of the man who passed through Afghan and survived there.
"Hi, lads." Nazar stopped five paces away from them.
"Well, hi," the main one spat so that the spittle almost reached Nazar’s sneakers.
"We have a conversation." Nazar did not pay attention to this for the time being.
"It’s a trash talk. We have already told you – Sarychev is ours, we’ll bleed him. Come near to him, we’ll blow your head off."
"You, guys, are wrong, I want to divide by justice half-and-half. He has a great business and it’s enough for you and us. So let’s make a bargain."
"You cho, don’t understand? You’ve been already said - he is ours!"
"Ok, Ok," Nazar, with an imperceptible movement, put his hand behind his back, "yours is yours. So, get it."
With these words, he grabbed a pistol from his jeans belt and, rolling to the right, fired three bullets in the direction of the bushes. From there, a body of the bandits immediately fell, the second wounded rushed to the side, and the third, also obviously wounded but not much opened fire on him with a machine gun. But time had already been lost, and the surprise factor in the form of an ambush in the bushes was missed.
Nazar's boys peppered with fire the mobsters standing in front of them from Arkhip's brigade, they responded with fire, trying to hide behind the cars. Nazar managed to roll away to the side and now with a favorable position shot through the gas tank of a Cherokee standing in the very center of Arkhipov gang. The explosion thundered. Splinters and body parts of those who hid behind this car flew into the air. Since in the jeep there was some ammunition, it exploded well.
All this brought panic into the ranks of the enemy, but the Nazar’s guys, on the contrary, received a second wind, seeing that the advantage was now on their side.
The other five minutes shots from the TT and the strings of Kalashnikovs sounded, and then everything was quiet.
Nazar walked along those who were lying on the asphalt and shot them with an "insurance" shot
into the head.
There were casualties among their own members, too: one killed and three wounded.
"How are you?" having shot the boy writhing from Arkhipov’s brigade, Yefim scanned Nazar.
"Fine. And you?"
"Me too. Did you know that they set up an ambush in the bushes?" seeing that Nazar nodded, Yefim spat on the asphalt. "Sons of a bitch. Well, how are you doing with them? We came to have trash talk with them, simply to make a scene, and they had decided to shoot us like goofs."
"They may have decided, but that's how it has all happened." Nazar, reloading the pistol, shot another guy lying on the pavement into the head.
"You are crazy, Nazar ... Reckless. You should have hinted at least that there was an ambush ... Why did he get there himself, you could be injured..."
Nazar just waved his hand and walked toward their cars.
"Well, now let's go to Petrovich," one of their fellows cried, "we should lift the elbow. Now we’ll take over the whole Sarychev’s business. "
"We still have to shoot for this business ... Arkhip will not give it up so easily." Nazar lit a cigarette near the car. "We have now declared war on him. But only I will not give in. From the principle, I will not. After all, I wanted to be honest with him - fifty-fifty, and he, bitch, sent people to kill us. So now he has had it, neither he has long to live nor his gang - I promise you this, lads."
Inspired by such a speech, the guys started talking at once and, in high spirits, getting into cars, drove towards Moscow to the hippodrome to celebrate such an event - a declaration of war with the gang of Arkhip.
***
Nazar was driving and listening with half an ear to the excited conversation of the guys, sitting in jeep Cherokee. And he looked at the streets of Moscow, thinking that during these five years he began to kill people simply, and this entered his life and had become a commonplace already. But again he did not allow himself to feel the pricks of conscience for those who remained lying there on the asphalt. He put his conscience deep inside himself, leaving on the surface only the brutal mask of the leader and ringleader of their gang, to whom everyone obeyed, recognizing his power and strength.
He remembered how it all began a long time ago, in the ninetieth, when he had been in this gang for the role of a militant for almost two years and was fully subordinate to Varlam. And then this setup occurred, when, on Varlam’s instructions, he came to pick up the money and walking along the brothel’s corridors, he got a crowbar over the head, and then everything in his life abruptly changed.
He remembered how, after having a little recovered, he ran away from the hospital and went to their rented apartment, which was located in the old five-story building not far from the Molodezhnaya metro station.
Having paid off the taxi driver and still feeling not very healthy, he slowly walked to the entrance. Climbing up to the third floor, he called. He wasn’t opened for a long time, and then he entered a smoked corridor with the smell of stale air, poorly lit, and through it got to the room where the table, sofa, shabby chairs and the old cupboard with a sideboard stood. Everything in the room was as usual: the smell of smoke, sweat and it was smoked so much that you could cut the air with a knife.
There were a lot of people there now, almost their entire brigade. Some sat at the table, which was an untidy picture of dirty dishes, empty cans, bottles of alcohol and food, which was already there in the semi-musty state, among all this mess. There were remains of bread, unfinished sausage loaf, faded salad in a bowl, dried buckwheat in a saucepan and crinkled dumplings on plates.
Nazar winced at the smell that hit his nose and caused a headache. He quickly turned away from the table, feeling the gagging urge from the view of the table.
Varlam got up from the sofa and, pulling up the training pants, imposingly approached him.
"It's great, brotha, well done, that you so quickly got back on your feet,"- he embraced Nazar and patted his back, then, pulling away, pointed to the table. "Will you eat?"
"Not."
"Well, let's have a trash talk down," Varlam pointed to his chair.
Nazar threw an old newspaper out of the chair and pushed an empty bottle of vodka on the floor with his foot. He sat down again, turned his eyes to Varlam, who continued.
"Tell me what was there?"
"We arrived. Yefim was in the car. Oleg and I went to take the dough. In the corridor, I got on a head. And that's all..."
All the mobsters in the room were silent, listening to his story. Varlam was also silent. Then he spoke,
"And now I will tell you what was there. There was not only loot for the month, but there was also loot from all of his business, of this businessman. There were eight hundred grand of greens. Shit happens, brotha, and what’s the result? Never mind? You don't seem to remember anything ... Yefim, it seems, did not see anything ... but Oleg does not exist at all. And eight hundred grand disappeared..."
Nazar understood the whole point. Eight hundred thousand dollars disappeared, and the three of them were suspicious. He calmly continued to look into the eyes of Varlam, who, after a pause and just looking into his eyes, continued.
"I know it's not you. I asked the doctor about your head. You were lucky, the blow should have been for sure, without chances ... but apparently, you are lucky ... The ceiling is low there, the one who beat you couldn’t blow at right, so it was a little passing and the skull was not cut. That's why I know that it is not you." Varlam paused, seeing the completely calm face of Nazar, that did not change while he was saying all this. "That’s Yefim and Oleg. But Oleg, the bitch, took off, and we managed to tie Yefim...
"This is not Yefim." Nazar said firmly, realizing that now he was standing up for a man with whom, actually, he didn’t get along very well all this time.
"Nazar, I respect you ..." Varlam waited for a pause. "Are you sure that you are ready to pay for this?"
"Yes. Sure."
"Do you need it?" leaning back in his chair, Varlam asked with a challenge.
"Yefim didn’t do this." Nazar said stubbornly, yellow lights sparkled in his eyes, which did not bode well. "Where is Yefim?"
"In the basement ... the one you know. Where we usually ask to give us the answer. So, you know, for all these days, he, as a partisan, is silent ... and has not died yet, although I think the guys have overdone a little..."
"He has nothing to do with. Leave him, Varlam."
"You know, I don't care. I need my loot. You return the loot, get your Yefim alive and well."
"I will find Oleg ... and your money."
Varlam extended his hand, which Nazar shook, securing the deal between them in such a way.
Like this. Just one handshake, and his life and Yefim’ one were at stake. If he had not intervened, Yefim would have been killed simply because he was there, although he did not take the money. And now he got into it himself, and already their two lives hang in the thread, woven into one. That's how simple it is, the life of a person is nothing compared to bundles of green bills tied with an elastic band.
All this Nazar pondered while driving home. The fact that the attack on them was no accident he understood. The fact that everything was serious he also guessed on the annoying presence of a young lieutenant in his room with regular interrogations while he was lying there, recovering from a concussion. But the fact that everything was so bad, he understood from Varlam's meager story. Yes, Varlam did not suspect him and this was logical. No one would organize an attack on himself and punch his head. Other things were Yefim, who was sitting in the car and waiting for them, and Oleg, who was gone. Although no one knew where he had been gone. Those who attacked them could simply shove him into the trunk of a car and throw into the woods, and in this case, it was Yefim. But Yefim hadn’t done it. Why did Nazar know this? He just knew and that was all. Despite his young age, he saw people through and through: their inside, essence that was their true face. This vision he did not open immediately in himself. Probably, having passed through two years of war in Afghanistan, he began to look at the world differently. It was a war. It made him different. It removed from him that scurf of faith in the good that he had before, and left only the harsh truth of life. After returning from there, he changed. And how could you not change when you had been killing people for two years? And it didn’t matter that they were people of a different faith, and they seemed to be enemies, and you only protected your life and those who were near, but you killed, and that changed you. Now he had never smiled as before, kindly, sincerely. Now there was not a smile on his face, but a grin. He remembered the warm blood that had been poured on his hands for the first time, and now here, already in civilian terms, he killed in the same calm, without hesitation. And the regrets and torments of conscience had long been deep inside.
So why now he decided to stand up for Yefim, although for all these more than two years, while he was in the gang, he was always a loner. He was feared and respected, despite his youth. They were afraid of fearlessness, perhaps even recklessness, and respected him because taking people to a meeting, he had thought through and planned everything so clearly and correctly that he succeeded in everything, and he always went out as a winner. He possessed the true qualities of a leader, for which mobsters in his brigade respected him and hated Varlam, feeling that his throne could falter if Nazar would continue to behave in the same way.
That's why now Varlam gladly hooked on the words of Nazar and gave him the opportunity to intervene for Yefim. He understood that it was almost impossible to return eight hundred grand, which meant that according to the laws of the brigade, both Yefim and Nazar, who said the word for him, would die for it.
Nazar looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. There he was looked at by the calm gaze of a lone wolf.
"We only live once." Nazar winked at his twin in the mirror, seeing how yellow sparks flashed in his eyes.
***
It took Nazar much time to resolve this pain in the ass organized by Oleg. He apparently was preparing carefully and for a long time. The fact that Oleg was rotten inside Nazar knew, felt his essence and therefore always kept away from him. Although, when Varlam sent them on a mission, it was not a matter of choice with whom to deal. In all their gangster clashes with other mobsters, Oleg always hid behind others backs. Nazar had seen it but had never told anyone about it. Oleg got into the brigade not so long ago, about six months ago. He was fetched by one of them, only then this lad was killed in another skirmish, there was no Nazar there. Only Oleg returned from the showdown, that time no one gave any significance to this fact, apparently in vain.
Now, trying to find at least some clues to grasp who betrayed them, Nazar cross-examined all those who could be in this brothel at that time: all the guards and all the prostitutes who stayed there to sleep. He even had to intimidate the cleaning woman so that she remembered everything, and not only that was strange on that day, but also that month in this establishment. This impact method gave its results. Nazar found a clue, the one who had gone into the basement through another entrance and had been waiting for him with the crowbar ready. Then everything was clear and logical. Only Oleg knew that there would be only two of them since Yefim always stayed in the car, he was older and did not go to take away money. So the second was in collusion with Oleg. Nazar heard Oleg's voice, distracting his attention at the right moment.
He figured out this person. He was recognized by the cleaning woman, she caught a glimpse and remembered that he was working here as a plumber. Nazar had affairs with different people, he traveled, chatted with them, left info. And soon Nazar was informed that the person he was searching for had been found in the forest, not far from the Moscow Ring Road, already in a half-decomposed state.
The fact that Oleg wouldn’t spare his partner, Nazar did not doubt. Now there was the most difficult thing - to find Oleg. He had no relatives in Moscow; he was a visitor from Khabarovsk. Nazar knew that he would not go to his hometown to seek shelter, because he understood that they would be looking for him. With such money, people usually go abroad.
Shaking all the small surroundings of Oleg in the form of his girlfriend and neighbor in a rented room in a communal flat, he went on his trail.
He found Oleg hiding in a country house in one of the numerous summer cottage associations. Silently climbing the stairs, he quietly penetrated inside and saw Oleg sleeping in a narrow iron bed. From the rustle in the room, he woke up.
Nazar approached him and handed over to still sleepy Oleg his new international passport, which he had ordered from his friend, sealed with a different name and surname, but with Oleg’s photo.
"Are you waiting for this?"
Oleg shrank all over, realizing that his hour had come.
"Nazar, I have money ... eight hundred grand. Let's split it in half," - seeing Nazar's eyes, he spoke stammering, "take everything, just don't kill..."
"For what did you get Yefim in the wrong?"
"Well, I do not give a shit to Yefim, here there are eight hundred big ones. We will live as humans. Nazar, think, eight hundred thousand greens!"
"They will kill Yefim if I don’t return the money."
"Well, what's the difference..."
"You are playing foul; for the sake of dough, you’ve framed one of us."
"Spare ... do not kill..."
Nazar went to the side of the road, where he had parked a Beemer, taken from one of his people for a while. He heard the burning country house crackle in the distance, as the watchman yelled and as a few residents of the neighboring houses came running to the fire, since it was autumn, and therefore the summer house partnership had already become empty after the end of the summer season.
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