Money In Progress (Nebesa's Gate Casino)

[Maksim Marveet]

Pavel & Maksim

The paramedics stabilized Maksim while he was on the floor. They were careful with the transfer to the ambulance, which was rigged outside. Despite the passage indicated by the host, it was clear from the common casino floor that something was happening in the high-rollers room, and there were plenty who recognized the face of the casino boss in attendance. This meant that the casino was witness to two people being wheeled from the premises: one fully draped with the shroud of death and whispers wondered about the fate of the other.

As for Maksim, he was an unwitting participant in these events. He’d never experienced anything like it and mostly he wished to sleep and for everything to be over. It wasn’t until the rig doors closed him into the confined space of the ambulance that he even recognized one of the faces belonged to Pavel.

At his right, the paramedic was pressing a needle into his arm that made Maksim grimace with the prick. Medicine was pushed in after that that swarmed his head. On his left, Pavel’s stern expression monitored the proceedings. He did not know his brother-in-law well. They’d barely spoken to each other the past few years but for the civil exchanges mediated by family gatherings. The rock currently pressing into his gut seemed to grow just to imagine why he was there at all.

“I’m sorry,” was the only thing he could think to say. Laying flat, the fear of vomiting was fading. Maybe it was the medicine they gave him.

He had to wonder if Pavel called Alina yet. On one hand, Alina would be a comfort as nothing ever seemed to fluster or bother her. On the other, he didn’t want her to see him like this: how he must look. He feared for his more than disheveled appearance, but also that he was surely pale and pathetic, but when he spoke, it wasn’t to any of these thoughts. It was about someone else completely. “I’m sure I’m fine. Please don’t call my father,” he looked away when he said that second part.

After several minutes of travel, the ambulance took a wide turn. The speed slowed drastically and rolled to a stop. The paramedic previously working on Maksim glanced at Pavel, shrugged and promptly climbed toward the front of the rig. Doors slammed after that as the two men left the ambulance at the same time.

When the main bay opened, it revealed the interior of a warehouse and the shadow of someone standing to the side. On the periphery, the paramedics slipped from view.

Alarmed, Maksim sat up.
“What’s going on?” he asked his brother in-law. Shockingly, Pavel pulled a gun from beneath his jacket and readied it at his side.

Pavel’s stern gaze swiveled to him, but Max’s eyes were wide on the firearm.
“Who have you pissed off, Maksim?” he stated. Max’s response was stuck in his mouth just as a new voice spoke just out of sight. He’d done nothing!

“Don’t shoot me,” it said. The accent wasn’t quite Russian, but it was rough and deep. Maksim watched tense with nerves as a figure rounded into view.

He was tall and blonde, dressed in street clothes that included dark pants and a jacket. Notably, his face was covered in a mesh of scars and one eye was drooped with a former injury.

His attention was momentarily fixed on Pavel. “It wouldn’t do you any good anyway,” he added with a dry smirk.

Pavel sat straighter, but he did not rise. The line of his jaw was tense, gaze steadily studying the new figure. He did not seem to recognize him.

“What do you want?” Pavel asked what Maksim could not. He felt himself swallow and the queasiness of the moment had nothing to do with being physically ill.

The man leaned against the open door of the ambulance.

“You two have a problem on your hands that I’m going to solve for you. Unfortunately, you’re going to have to let me beat the shit out of him.” He spoke with such directness, Maksim had a feeling he wasn’t joking. When the man’s strange half-gaze turned to Maksim, it sent a chill down his spine. He shifted in his seat. Were they being kidnapped? As a young man he’d been schooled on what to do if he was ever taken for ransom. The children of Moscow billionaires were all similarly educated. It happened far more frequently than one would imagine.

It was clear that the man’s admission wasn’t going to be accepted without additional explanation, so he went on.

“I know what happened at Nebesa’s Gate. More, I know what was supposed to happen and how the fuckup Yakuza who was sent botched the job. I also know that if you make it to the hospital, that one will be dead by tomorrow, and you’d be well within your rights to start a full on war.” His attention moved back and forth between Pavel and Maksim on the regular. Every time it did, Max grew steadily more afraid.

“So, here’s my proposal. Let me beat the shit out of your brother in-law then they won’t kill him.”

"You're asking me to start a war in exchange for Maksim's life?” Pavel’s question was cold.

“You’ll retaliate. They’ll retaliate. Soon you’ll both be escalating over each other and we’ll have a war on our hands either way, but this way Scion Marveet’s son and heir will be right as rain… in a few weeks anyway. Or I could just kill him right now and save us the time of this discussion if you prefer.”

Maksim was white as a sheet. He couldn’t believe his ears.

There was a long pause. Max’s jaw was parted.

“Pavel! You can’t possibly…” his voice was shaking. Maksim looked over his shoulder. Could he squeeze out the front the way that the paramedics left? The warehouse looked large. It was unlikely he could outrun this guy, though.

Finally, Pavel’s voice broke the silence.
“What’s in it for you?” he asked point-blank.

The stranger laughed immediately. Somehow, the laugh was worse.

“Nothing. I don't exactly get my kicks from beating up wimpy suit types, but it will be the highlight of my day.” His gaze settled wry on Maksim, who by then was rendered utterly speechless. 

He went on. “‘Why am I here?’ is a better question. To that, let's just say you have a friend out there who will show himself soon enough. So what do you say?”

When Pavel looked at him, Maksim knew the answer without a single word being said. Max was breathing fast and heavy like he was going to have a panic attack. He barely understood everything that was being explained. The Asian was there to assassinate him? Why? He’d met with Asians all week, though he could hardly recall any of their names. A group was seeking to resource steel for a big project, and Maksim was eager to land his first construction sale. They couldn’t be related, could they? But talk of wars and retaliation ran his blood cold. He wasn’t so ignorant to think shit like this didn’t happen, but he’d never thought to be caught up in the middle of it.

Pavel grimaced with the weight of a decision and slipped his immaculate suit jacket from his shoulders. A firearm holster was strapped along his back, into which he deposited the pistol as he stood.

The most subtle of nods shot a look at the guy outside.
“He's family. It should be me,” he explained as he climbed out of the rig.

What? Maksim watched in shock.

“Come on,” he ordered as he began to roll up his sleeves. His forearms were tense; the strings of tendons tightly coiled.

Maksim stayed exactly where he was. Pavel’s previously calm exterior shattered when he didn’t comply. His voice echoed in the empty warehouse even as he pointed sharply at him.
“You will do this for Alina!” Max flinched, and shaking, he slowly climbed out of the rig. He was light headed; legs weak.

The blonde guy folded his arms with a look that made Maksim think he was surprised things took this turn. He stepped back to give them space.

Max brought himself to meet Pavel eye to eye. The same emptiness filled Pavel’s expression as once filled Scion’s years ago.

”Pavel?” Maksim’s voice broke on the question.

“Be a man,” was all he said as he struck.