Friends in High Places

[Sofia Vasilieva]

[[continued from "A gesture of good faith"]]

“The Yak was personal,” she observed once they had returned to the car. Pavel’s leather gloves were tugged back onto his raw hands, and it must have stung like fuck, but she didn’t offer to drive. He’d only have shrugged her off, and she wasn’t in the mood to placate his sensibilities. Her brother hadn’t liked Zixin; his various nuances of stony expression were as open to her as a book. For her own part Sofia was as yet undecided. Zixin had displayed an open amount of ruthless relish for the way he neatly snared the Yakuza he’d made Pavel beat into the ground. She might have admired it but for the fact she did not appreciate also being on the receiving end of his machinations.

“I wish you hadn’t seen that,” he said, but she only shrugged and pulled her wallet into her lap. It was late, but she had some arrangements to make.

Zixin Kao wasn’t the only one who could make a statement of deed.

***

Later, she stood outside Maksim’s hospital room. A tailored suit draped her form, blonde hair smoothed back from her face. Her hands rested in the pockets at her hips. Pavel sat in one of the bucket waiting seats, elbows on his knees, bowed over his clasped grip. He’d made some calls of his own in the interim, of which Sofia had grasped some passing insight into the bigger picture. He wanted to know who hired the independent, and he wanted to know what else might have happened in the city tonight.

For now, they waited.

[[@"Jensen James" @"Maksim Marveet"]]