Chapter 44 - Svetlana I

   Vladimir had Svetlana now. The only thing he took from the now defunct headquarters of the fallen Bitches chosen stronghold that they had been so proud of. Well, he took a few things. The contents were quickly scanned and inventoried, and certain things were taken. Mostly things of true value, small and easily transported. On the way out, before burning the place? Vladimir took a few stacks of money and a couple kilos of the stack of cocaine, and slipped it into his pockets.

   Vlad had a safe house in mind, and we were there in short order. When we saw a police car pacing us, there was an instant moment of tension. It dissipated quickly, when we saw they weren't here for any other reason? Than to escort us safely to our destination. Vladimir had things wired up well.

   Once at the safe house, he put Svetlana in a room and locked it from the outside. She was trapped, and he left her. He talked with us a short while. By language, look, demeanor, body language... he was a man putting off something distasteful he knew he had to do. He just wasn't looking forward to it. Finally though, he went to his task.

   He unlocked her room and entered. He sat on the bed with her, and put his arm around her.

   "Svetlana. And now? I must do what I must do."

   She came at him with a string of Russian, and he stopped her by putting his finger on her lips.

   "English. I know you can speak it well enough. I wish my friends to hear, what goes on. Is important."

   "So? Do it, then. Fuck me. Kill me. Fuck me, then kill me? Or, kill me then fuck me. Whatever."

   Vlad sighed.

   "Svetlana. You know me. You know me? At beginning. Before, all this shit. When we were both, still, real Russians. You know, I do not do these things. Say it if you will, but. You know, much better."

   "And? What, will you do to me, now. Hmm?"

   "I will do nothing. To you. I will do something? For you. I wish to reward you. For loyalty."

   "And. What is to be. My, reward."

   "That, is my problem. I can not give you money. I will be killing you. There is nothing I can give you, to reward you."

   "What, then."

   "The only reward I can give you? Is to take from you."

   He grabbed her arm, and twisted it. Showing her the scars and pus filled boils up her arm.

   "I will take this from you. And if I do not? What is next. Will you do the Krokodil? I will not have this. You. Svetlana. Once so beautiful. Still, great beauty. But? Not, like it was. What. Skin, rotting off of you. Lizard skin, falling off next. No. I would rather die, myself. Than hear of this thing. Let alone, see it with my own eyes."

   She looked at him, level and even.

   "Then? Just kill me. I know you can do it. If I was horse? Someone, would show mercy."

   "Mercy? Is for the weak. And you were once strong. I will take this thing from you. I will begin. Now."

   He took out the kilo of cocaine. Her eyes followed it, like some holy grail, floating about the room.

   "Perhaps? You think. It is a trick. But? No. Watch."

   He broke a little line on a corner, and tasted it. Dipped his now wet finger in, and gave her a taste.

   "Is good, no?"

   Her face lit up. She nodded.

   "Is not yet, filled with sugar and baby powder. Still strong. Very expensive."

   More nodding. More eyes following. Like a cat following the laser dot. Then? He backhanded her off the edge of the bed. She went ass over tin cups and landed in a heap. She didn't cry out, she just wiped her mouth of blood without looking, and her eyes never left the prize he waved back and forth slowly.

   "You? Have been hit. Too many times. I can tell. It would do? No good. And so."

   He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the bathroom. He ripped the bag open and dumped it into the toilet. She was screaming, and actually clawing at the toilet water, because it had big blobs of white powder floating in it. Trying to lick it off of her fingers. It was quite a display.

   He backhanded her again, then grabbed her by the hair once more. A little subdued now, he shoved her face almost into the toilet bowl. To look at it. All that high grade cocaine, floating in a filthy toilet.

   "Look. At Svetlana's life. It is so pretty. It is pile of shitty white powder. Floating in, what. Toilet bowl. Look! See it! If I take shit? It goes in your life!"

   She was furious. She didn't care about the split lip, she cared about the prize in the filthy toilet. And he kept twisting her wrists every time she tried to grab for it.

   "Now. Watch. I show Svetlana, her life. Her, future. Watch close. This? Is you."

   He flushed. She went positively insane. He had to backhand her hard several times and really rattle her cage, to keep her attention.

   "And? That, is what I think. Of that shit. Now. Watch, more. Watch very closely."

   He took a small stack of hundred dollar bills out, and dropped them by skittering them out, into the toilet. Yeah, he flushed that too.

   "And that? Is what I think. Of cocaine. And of the money, it brings. I? Do not care."

   She was quieter now, but crying.

   "I care about? Loyalty. Focus. Dedication. And in that order. I? Am a man. Of my principles. I do not bend these things. Not once. Not for any one, not for any thing. Yuri? Teach me this. I knew it, from my mother. From my father. But Yuri? Instilled it in me, further."

   He paused.

   "Fuck police. They? Did this thing. To both of us. Fuck NATO. They take our precious villages. All I have left? Is memories. And? I have my principles. No one, can take them from me. You can take my life, but not my values."

   She must be remembering her husband. Her life. How things once were. How they were supposed to be. Before the police came, before NATO bombed them out of existence. For daring to fight back, because they wanted to keep their way of life.

   "And so. I can give you? No reward. It will only help kill you. And so? I will give you the only thing. That will reward you. You? Will come. We go? Now."

   He bodily dragged her along. Me and Panic went with him. He waved for us to come. He made a cell phone call? It looked like the same police car, more or less escorted us. To somewhere. A, what. A dance club.

   Yuri stood in front of the big bouncer.

   "I wish to speak. Politely. To owner. I know? He will be here. Please, to go and arrange this."

   The big bouncer not only didn't acquiesce? He made a special rap back behind him on the door, and another big bouncer came out to join him. Both stood there. Beaming. Awash in their masculine... whatever. Vlad stood there, calmly. Holding Svetlana's wrist, still bleeding from her lips.

   "Is this your boyfriend? He is cute. I can see, why you love him."

   They laughed. The stones on this asshole, or what.

   "Boys? I am businessman. I prefer, to do business, polite. Now. Again. Please to go and get owner."

   More laughter. Strings of Russian, both to each other and to him. He just stood there. Impassive but subdued and polite. He looked back at me and Panic.

   "They say... I like little boys. I do not know what to do, with pretty girl, here. But they do. I should go where pretty boys are, they will handle the pretty girl. Is funny. I like, they have sense of humor."

   Vladimir handed Svetlana's wrist to us. He said to hold her wrist tight. Or? At any moment she would break and run. To get back to her toilet. Hold on tight. I looked at Panic. He already had a dropped face. I dropped mine. I could see where this was getting to, eventually. I held her wrist tight enough she winced and looked at me in shock.

   "I? Am a man of patience. And now? I will try. One, more, time. Boys. I too, have sense of humor. Is funny. Now, I offer you? Very good deal. You? Get owner. You tell him. Vladimir Radiscononovich, is at door. And wish? To do polite business with him. Have business meeting. And? When you do this thing. I? Will buy you many drinks. Expensive drinks. And? We will laugh. We will tell jokes. We will be? Friends."

   This was the most hysterical thing they ever heard, seemingly. More streams of Russian that he didn't translate. I can guess the gist of it all. Vlad smiled.

   "Because if you do not choose, this option? We will go, with other option. You, say I like little boys. No. I, like women. And so. I will drag you both. Into club. And? With whole club watching. I will fuck you. In your ass. Both of you. For whole club to laugh. I will use you? Like woman. Both of you. Now. I ask you. Which? Is better option. Expensive drinks, all night. New friend. Laughter and jokes. Or? Fucked."

   They could barely stand up. One did the rap on the door, to get a third, even bigger bouncer out now. Vlad translated.

   "They say. You, must come and see this. Is funniest thing. Ever. You must enjoy."

   They kept it up.

   Now, seemingly to them, but in reality I am sure, more for our benefit.

   "What, is problem. With people. With world. Always, we must do things. The difficult way. But? Is fine."

   He took off his suit coat, and handed it to Panic. He also undid his tie. More streams of Russian. He translated briefly.

   "They think, I am crazy. That, I am here to fight them. And? I am going to get hurt. Also? Joke. I think, I am at little boys dance club. Is funny, no?"

   Vladimir now slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and took it off. He handed that to Panic, as well.

   "Now. I ask you. Who? Will be fucking who."

   They froze. Like statues. Open mouths. One dropped his drink. Not a sound, not one stray movement.

   "Now. For, last time. My patience, is at the end."

   He pointed at the one in the middle.

   "Go. You? Will get owner. Now. You will tell him? Vladimir Radiscononovich, is at door. And wish? To do polite business with him."

   When no one moved quick enough to suit him? He simply grabbed the one in the middle, and rang the door like a gong with his head. By using his neck in his hand to do it. After several loud gongs, he dropped him, bloody and unconscious, to the cement entrance. He quite calmly looked at both of the other two.

   "One of you? Should go get owner. Only one. You? Choose."

   They chose, by one just running in and leaving his cohort behind. He grabbed him by the wrist, and twisted it. His captive cried out, and he kicked the door several times. Imitating the special door rap. When it cracked? He shoved the one he had into the door to open it, and strode in like he owned the place.

   He just stood there, and looked around. Loud dance music. Those close to the door just looked at him, and... backed up in, what. Practically abject horror. He calmly marched the guy he had by the wrist. Tweaking the wrist, to make him cry out pitifully. Screaming at times, even. I followed in, Svetlana's wrist fast in my strong grip. Panic simply followed. Carrying Vladimir's jacket, tie and shirt.

   Most people backed up and the human sea parted. One guy, though, walked into him. Almost, anyways. He grabbed him by the throat, and simply smashed his head off the nearest table with such force, that drinks moved. The table occupants looked up in first annoyance, then fear. The guy rolled away, bloody and again, unconscious. He hadn't ever let go of the tweaked up wrist of the last bouncer he didn't fancy all that much.

   He calmly made for the nearest bar, and simply asked. Quite polite, given the situation.

   "Please. Where? Is owner. Business."

   The bartender gulped and pointed.

   "Thank you. This? Is yours. Please, to take back."

   He smashed the wrist bouncer's head off the bar so hard, it made people look the whole length of the bar. He slid to the floor. Vlad looked like nothing was amiss to the bartender.

   "When friend wakes up?"

   "Yes?"

   "Please to tell him. He was not cute enough? To fuck. In ass. Like woman. In front of whole club. I? Have standards."

   Vlad then walked off, in the direction the bartender had pointed. Almost everyone parted as far as they could for him, the place was packed. A few people turned into him, but immediately stumbled back and parted themselves as well.

   Vladimir stopped in the middle of the dance floor, on his indicated path. He looked back at us, over his shoulder.

   "I much prefer, the polite way. This? Is so tiresome."

   He went on, and we followed. His little entourage. The loud music, had long now gone off. Most of the whole place, simply froze. The police, entering an establishment to raid it? Would have had less of an effect in my experience. And? I've seen such done.

   When he got to the end of his walk, there was a door. He knocked lightly. It opened.

   "W---"

   "I was at front door. Bouncer? Was rude. My name? Is Vladimir. Vladimir Radiscononovich. I speak for Yuri. Who, is away on business. I wish to do polite business. With owner, of club. Is this thing possible?"

   He got a stream of Russian, and it seemed to be quite placatory in nature.

   "Please. In English, if possible. My friends? I wish them to see. That I do not do one thing, and say? The other. Is possible?"

   "English. Yes."

   "May I come in? Please."

   He was ushered in. A chair pulled out, and pushed in for him. This new guy went outside the door, everything still quiet. I heard spastic screaming, in Russian. What? Who knows. Someone came panting, they must have been running. With a tray. What appeared to be a crystal decanter. Several crystal highballs. An ice bucket.

   "Are you Oleg? Owner, of club."

   "Yes. I am Oleg. I... did not know. You come. Or? I would, have... polite man, at door. Please, forgive me."

   "Is fine. Actions, of door man? Do not reflect, on you."

   "I am, much relieved. I will, instruct my men. You can trust me."

   Vladimir shook his head.

   "I? Am embarrassed. What you must think of me. I am a businessman. I prefer to do business? The polite way."

   "Oh. I agree. And, may I take the... liberty? Of vodka. Not, the shit we put into other bottle. The, good things. For friends."

   Vlad waved his hand.

   "Please. Friends? Have little drink. For polite business meeting. Is fine. Yuri? Would approve."

   "Ah. And, how is Yuri doing? I hear things... that, Yuri? Will be soon back. And I? Can, not, wait."

   "Yes. We will say? Eighteen month. Give, or take."

   "And. Vladimir, yes?"

   "Yes. Vladimir? Radiscononovich."

   "Very nice, to... meet, you. And? How I wish, we could meet... more pleasant."

   "Oleg? Please. Do not, fear me. We meet? Very well. A man? Is defined. By? His action. You, are not defined. By action of employee. By action of friend, or associate. We? Meet very well. I assure you. You? Have my word on that. And, my word? Is my promise. Yuri, would have my heart, on a plate. Before my very eyes. If I lie."

   "Thank you."

   "No. Thank you. For being polite. For.. having. If, finally. Polite business meeting."

   "I? Oleg. What, can I do for you. For, Yuri."

   "You? Can do much. But? Let us first talk. About? What you can do. For yourself. You, know of Yuri. I know this. Yuri? Does not take. Yuri? Give. And so. I? Wish to make friend. I give, to new friend."

   He placed a couple kilos he took out of his pockets, on Oleg's table.

   "Oh."

   "I? Do not sell. I? Vladimir. I, give. You? Take. Taste. Make sure, that I do not fool you, in any way."

   Oleg protested how much he trusted Vladimir, but at Vlad's insistence? Perhaps just a little taste. He poked a little penknife into the edge of the kilo bag. He tasted it, then did it again. One little snort. His eyes lit up.

   "Ah. I see, you approve."

   "Oleg, approves... very much. And now. What, does Oleg. Owe, you. Never, is something, for nothing. Please, to tell me."

   "I mean? As I say. A, gift. For? My friend. I would ask? But one, tiny, favor. Easy, favor. For gift."

   Oleg shrugged. What.

   "This? Is, Svetlana. She has beauty. But? She was once, much more beautiful. I wish you. Oleg. To... introduce her. To focus, and dedication. As? Was once of value here. Before, the Bitches come."

   Oleg looked down.

   "What. There are? No more Bitches. Sergei? The pig, is gone."

   "What?"

   "I kill Sergei. Not long ago."

   "Well. This, is good... news."

   "Very good news. It should? Have been done. Long ago. But? Other matters, require attention. You will soon hear of this thing."

   "I will tell no one. You have? My... best, word."

   "No. Oleg. I? Do not sneak, and hide. Like Bitches. Demanding silence. High payments. Not? My way. You? Will tell. Everybody. Shout, from roof. And? Perhaps. More gift. You, Oleg. No, tax. Until? You see Yuri. Or? Man, who represent Yuri. In eighteen month, no tax. You? Will see much more money. And? With this gift, here... is very good, business deal. Yes?"

   "Very good. Too good, to believe."

   "No. And? You suspect. You know. When you next see Yuri? You will once again, be doing the polite business. The low tax. Because, when was Yuri ever greedy."

   "Never. The Bitches..."

   "The Bitches? Are no more. Not, here. We? Take back. Now. This gift... and? No Bitch, high tax. Eighteen month. And? Yuri. Soon back. Once again. Polite business, and low tax. And now. You can ask your friend, Vladimir. What, he asks, for little favor."

   He shrugged.

   "This? Is Svetlana. She? Is important to me. Now, tell me. Little room. Around here. Cost what, by month. Not much, I assume. And? How many month, have I given you, already. Too many, to count, I think. Is this so?"

   "Yes."

   "And so. I would now ask, little favor."

   "Anything."

   "Svetlana. She will be watched. When I say. Twenty four hours, every day. Seven days, every week. Every holiday. Do I make myself clear, what I mean, when I say that."

   "Every minute, of the whole year."

   "Never, without eyes. Ever."

   Vladimir suddenly went from friendly lummox? To boring a hole through the man's skull. Oleg nodded. He understood.

   "Now. You, do that. For? Eighteen month. Until, you see Yuri, come back. I have paid you, now. Up front. To introduce myself. And? I have removed, your very high Bitches tax. And? No tax, for eighteen month. And? This is all I require. But? Since you are watching, every minute? Should be no additional trouble."

   "Yes?"

   "No drugs. Only, little drink, for sleep. Svetlana? Will be as clean, as baby's ass. No men. Ever."

   "Am... I to keep her, prisoner? What."

   "After she is clean. When, she grows very bored. From not being allowed, out of little room. Then? You will put her to work. Not? Like dog. Tend bar, only. No fucking. No... dancing. Just, like mother doing honest work. Am I making myself... perfectly, clear. What I ask."

   "Yes."

   "Now. Is this, transaction. Profitable. Cost you, little. Give you? Much."

   "Yes. Very much."

   "Will you now shake hand. Knowing, exactly what I require. Stop. Think. If you can not meet this obligation? Say no. I will take no offense. I will give, cocaine. To other club."

   "No. I can do this."

   "I? Vladimir Radiscononovich. Will take this as not only business deal? But. Great personal favor. I? Will come back one day. I will see, what went on. I will expect? Agreement, is met. And? I will instruct Yuri. How much... favor, I find in my new friend."

   "Yes!"

   "I caution you. If the terms of my agreement, are not met. To, this, letter. It is better, you do not take agreement. Than, to promise me? And fuck me. You can go and ask Sergei. What happens. When a man fucks people, in the ass. And? Go, and look. I have nailed. His face. To his front door. For? All to see."

   Oleg just looked at him.

   "I mean what I say. The face, of the pig? Is now on his door. An example, of a man who does not do business? Properly."

   Vladimir paused.

   "Consider, business proposition."

   Oleg looked at the kilos. Looked at eighteen months with no more high tax. No more high tax ever, and a future dealing with what he had once known, and seemed to have liked.

   "I will not fail you."

   Vladimir held is hand out.

   "And? My word is my promise. You, will not fail to be rewarded."

   Oleg indicated things.

   "I have already. Been rewarded."

   "And more, later. But? Please to keep business agreement."

   Oleg tapped his chest.

   "On my own grave."

   Vladimir tapped is own back.

   "And on mine."

   Vlad looked around.

   "Svetlana. Your life? Will improve. And when I next see you? We will talk. Of, how I can then reward you. More properly."

   Oleg was wringing his hands.

   "And. Is business, now..."

   "Done."

   "As I say. I take liberty. Of? Vodka. Unless? You, might like... some, other, thing."

   "No. Little drink. To friends. And? When I come back. And see. You? Have lived up to bargain. Good friends."

   "You will see. I promise you. On my grave..."

   "Oleg? Yes. On your grave. You promise me. No marks on her. No, working her like the dog."

   Oleg nodded. Furiously.

   Oleg clinked ice into crystal highballs. It was crystal. The musical notes rang out, clear as anything. He passed them out. We all toasted friendship, to a finger or two of clear vodka.

   Vlad waved his hand.

   "Will you now, take Svetlana. To, room."

   Oleg got on the phone, and spoke in rapid fire Russian. Soon, two men came. They led her off by her wrists.

   "And now. Oleg. Our business? Is concluded. Do I have your permission, to hold party. To, celebrate. The end, of... The Bitches."

   Oleg was very happy now. Like never before.

   "Of course. What, do you need. You? Say."

   "What. I merely wish, to have fun. I, perhaps frightened people. On the way in. Was not my fault. Was fault? Of rude man at door."

   "Whatever you wish. I? Am, very happy."

   "I wish to drink. Perhaps? To dance. I wish, your permission."

   Oleg was only too happy.

   "Yes!"

   Vladimir took out a stack of green he had taken off of The Bitches stronghold. He tossed it on Oleg's desk.

   "And, there."

   "What, is---"

   "Is for? Party. We will celebrate. Will that pay for... enough vodka?"

   "Oh. Yes."

   "I want? Drinks. On, the house. Everyone."

   "And this? Yes."

   "Is good. Go. Instruct? Bartender."

   Now to us.

   "We will be here. All night. This? Is Russia. I must be seen. To be, enjoying. My... victory."

   We just stared.

   "The police? Are happy. They? Like Yuri, better. The Bitches, they charge more. Protection. Piss, people off. Every store. Every apartment building. Every bar and club. Word? Is already going out. This, is liberation."

   We were dumbfounded. I stammered.

   "The, police, they---"

   Vladimir laughed.

   "Fuck, police. I remove, Bitches. The police? Will come, and have party now. I? Reclaim, turf. For? Yuri. I enjoy this. Openly. Is our way. Yuri, was better."

   Me and Panic? Both, what. God-smacked.

   "Fuck, those, Bitches! This? Is Russia! Now, you come. See."

   We walked out of the owner's little office. People were pointing. Laughing. Women were giggling. Vlad led us up to the bar, and there was a long row of shot glasses. They were all filled up. People ran to wolf them down, and the row? Was magically refilled. We followed Vladimir to the bar, where he took up a corner, standing. Where the one bar met the other and formed the inside corner. It was his now. We flanked him. He still had his shirt off. Flying who he was, what he was.

   Pretty women came up, and exchanged a short Russian stream with him. He would sometimes nod, and they would giggle. If he nodded and they giggled? They would reach out, and run a finger off of his shoulder tattoos. The black and white epaulets. Then run off and tell their girlfriends they did it. Sometimes? He said no, and they ran off.

   "To touch, the insignia? Is great insult. But, at such a time, as this? You give pretty girls, permission."

   He conducted audience, like royalty. It was unreal.

   "You will understand. I did not want this, for myself. All I wanted? Was my Betanya. And to drive the truck. I find, all this? To be, what. Silly. But? It is."

   Men were coming up, trying to congratulate him. He smiled polite, he waved. Then dismissed them. Women, pretty women. Were trying to hang on him, rub close to him. Quite suggestively. He smiled, but dismissed them. There were Russian exchanges, he sometimes translated,

   "I cannot enjoy... women. Since... what your NATO did to me. Perhaps I can? But, I do not wish to. People tell me. Oh, you are so powerful. But? Am I so powerful. No. I am not. If I had true power? I would be able to have my Betanya."

   After a time, he put his dress shirt back on. He left it unbuttoned. It displayed the birds, but covered the stars and epaulets. As a therapist? He unconsciously covered his power, and left open his loss, for all to see if not know. It wasn't too long, before there was a buzz around.

   "And? There it is. It is found. The pig's face. On his door. The police will be here soon? But, do not worry. We will drink with them. They? Will toast us. Everyone is happy. That this thing, is done now."

   It is a dance club. The loud music, the pulsing bass. There's a DJ. He said something in between songs in Russian, and pointed at Vladimir up at his corner of the bar's interior corner intersection. He waved back politely. Like an embarrassed politician.

   The DJ kept it up, then the applause and noise went up. In volume, in demand. Vlad finally shot his palms down in surrender and walked over. Open dress shirt flowing. The DJ extolled him. To come. He resisted, but finally did. He had the microphone pushed down to his face. He said something. Forcefully. And, everyone went absolutely nuts. Good nuts. Like, a concert. When the rock star said... everyone better get wasted. The cheers sustained and went on.

   He walked back over as if nothing had happened. We looked at him. He translated.

   "Oh. I said... fuck those Bitches. This? Is Russia. And? The bar is open."

   The place was big and already crowded, but started getting positively packed. He translated people talking to him sometimes. A man thanked him, because the Bitches took all his money every week. A woman said they had raped her friend. The Bitches? Robbed the apartments regularly. There was no end to it.

   There were fights, but it wasn't scary. You would hear the crowd raise up. Incoherent screaming. Empowered that the power of the Bitches was broken? People that had derived power and used it from them, were being pointed at. Taken, by the mob. There was no stopping it, and no one tried. They were dragged into the center of the dance floor where everyone could have at them. They were punched and kicked until they were unresponsive and bloody dolls. Pretty sure a fair number of them were dead, while still being mobbed. They got drug out, and... who knows.

   The DJ played songs that everyone cheered for at these times. Vladimir pointed out one. He said it was a Russian military march. A victory march.

   In Vladimir's time and place, in his society. Me and panic, we're students of karma. Disciples of it. I know its not a religion. Religion is for people who are afraid of going to hell. Spirituality and philosophy, are for those who have already been there. I know I've been to hell. I even made it back. Not everyone does. And no matter what, it leaves its mark on you.

   But Vladimir. In his own here and now. Its the only way I can judge him. He's no monster. In his language? They would say "monstrum". And that's simply not him. He's getting treated like a rock star, or a sports hero right now. He isn't even truly enjoying his moment. Pretty woman after pretty woman is coming up to him. Getting near him. Giving the look, the nudging, the actions. He doesn't want it. It makes him come off as aloof and bored. Some of the women trying get, we'll say... more direct. He rebuffs them, less politely.

   Finally, one comes up and simply stands a short distance away. She's not acting like the others. She's not unattractive, she's just not dressed as a whore. He finally addressed her. In Russian. She gave him some back. Then? The English started. Near as I can figure, its some mark of distinction to speak English here.

   "I know you."

   "And, who do you know."

   "I know you from village. When I was little girl. Not your village. Next village over."

   "You know who. Do you know, what."

   "I know you. You? Drive the food truck. To the city."

   Vladimir shrugged.

   "That was a long time ago."

   "Yes. It was. I go to university. I see you there. I know you fight, then go to university."

   He waved his hand at it all.

   "You are still fighting. When, will you win. When will you lose. When? Will you be done."

   He shrugged. This, was the shrugging game.

   "What, do you even know."

   "I know, enough."

   "What."

   "My village, When the police soldiers came? I was little. I hide, in the barn. Under the hay. I could hear it. When it was over? I have no mother, no father. Another family? Take me. They lose, little boy. They find me, little girl."

   "You ended up at the university."

   "I did. Eventually."

   "What do you want."

   "Vlad? I want nothing from you. Am I happy? You, take The Bitches away. Yes. They say, Yuri come back. Soon. Then? Things will be good again."

   Vladimir said nothing.

   "Vlad. Are you done?"

   "Done?"

   "Fighting ghost. Vlad? Ghost will always win."

   He didn't answer her. She looked over at me and Panic. She lifted her chin to me.

   "You. You are bleeding."

   Shit. My shoulder? Its weeping. Oh well. Its not the first time. I met Wizzy's dad, and he said the same thing. Maybe I've just gone in a big circle.

   "And? Why are you here."

   "She was with us. He was too. When we killed The Bitches."

   She eyeballed me.

   "Why?"

   I don't have to answer her. But I will.

   "I'm fighting a ghost, too."

   She waved her hand.

   "You? Escape this time. But, the ghost? It will get you. Eventually."

   Lady, you have no idea. I can feel the icy fingers, dancing up and down my spine. Whatever is going on now, whatever is being said? Its damn important. Its the universe, talking to me. Wizzy, perhaps.

   "And you. You, this is your woman?"

   Panic took one glance at me, and nodded.

   "You? Fight ghost too. I see it, on your face. Do not let the ghost win."

   She went back to Vladimir.

   "Vlad. Little Impaler."

   Hello. That got his attention. His head came around, and he stared level at her.

   "You beat ghost. One, more, time. Woman? Needs hospital. Go. Take her."

   Vladimir just looked at her.

   "What. No, I do not fear you. You? Are Vlad. Little Impaler. You will not hurt woman, or child. Will you."

   He went back to his drink.

   "Vlad? Where is woman, you drag in here. With blood on lips."

   He muttered something in Russian.

   "Oh. And, it was Vladimir. Who told me. We speak in English. So my friends, know what I am doing."

   He regarded his drink.

   "Vlad. You? Will tell them? What you say."

   He looked over.

   "I told her. It was none of her business."

   The woman took back over.

   "I know Svetlana. You stupid goose. She come? From my village. What, will be done with her."

   He started staring at her, then softened.

   "She will be cleaned."

   "And? How will I know this."

   He tried staring at her again? He quit and softened again.

   "In time, you should see her. Here. Bartender."

   "Vlad. This is not good place, for her."

   "There will be no men, and no drugs. She will not be worked like dog, and not have marks on her."

   "So you say. And. Will you be here, to see this come to pass?"

   Vlad shrugged. He asked the bartender for paper and a pen. He gave her a number.

   "Here. She is to be not seen. Unless working. If you see marks on her? You call. If you see her working every day and night? You call. If you see her with men? Or, with drugs. You call."

   "And. If she does good."

   "Then? You can still call."

   "I will."

   Vladimir waited.

   "What did you go to university for."

   "I am teacher."

   "Did you teach at the university?"

   "I did. But? I come back. I teach children now. I am doctor."

   She gestured at my shoulder, with her chin.

   "Not doctor, for your shoulder. Doctor, for education."

   Vlad asked what she taught, at the university.

   "Psychology. Child, psychology."

   "And why did you not stay at university. Was much better."

   "Better for me? Or, better. For the children."

   "Why did you leave university?"

   "Little Impaler. Stupid, goose. When we are very little? Our parents. They, make the world seem. Like a wonderful place. And? If you have good teacher. It can still seem wonderful. For a little while longer. I want this. Not for me. For the children."

   Vlad shrugged.

   "Little Impaler. This thing? It makes the ghost. Go away."

   I'm still feeling icy fingers up and down my spine. The universe is still speaking, like a telegram.

   "Little Impaler. Look at me. Now."

   He looked.

   "Take American woman. Who fights The Bitches? To hospital. You will do this thing? Now. And? You will go. Again. You will not let the ghost? Win."

   He ignored her.

   "Vlad. Do not make me embarrass you. In front of important people. Go now."

   The bartender was staring at her. She got curt with him.

   "And? What are you looking at. You. If you speak? Of what you hear me say to Vladimir. I will send someone. To cut out your tongue."

   He just stood there.

   "Do you dare me? Go."

   He left, after filling her drink.

   "Little Vlad. You? Do not remember me. Do you."

   He shook his head.

   "I was little girl. You? Were man, with food truck. You used to give me. Food. Candy. You? Were a kind man. And? Some days. Back then. I? Brought home more food, than my father did. Because of the fighting."

   Vlad stared at his drink.

   "I make new life for myself. But you? You fight, the ghost. You will go now. I hear of you. After you leave. You, Yuri. You help people. Go? And do it more. And take American woman. To hospital."

   She paused. He was staring at her.

   "I do not fear you. And? I do not fear Yuri. You? Are good man. So is Yuri. You will go now. And, you will be at peace."

   As we were leaving, she upbraided the bartender again. How she obviously knew people, who could cut out his tongue. If he repeated anything he had seen or heard? This thing, would happen. As we were leaving, she said goodbye.

   "I hear, what happen. I hear, Vladimir Radiscononovich does this thing. And Americans, are with him. I come to see you. I? Miss old days. When things were as they should be. Go now. Help people. And make things be what they are supposed to be. Again."

   I can't shake the icy fingers crawling up and down my spine. From the moment she appeared, to the moment we left her. Only at important junctures in time, do I feel that. Its the universe talking to me directly. Its a karma telegram. Its Wizzy, speaking to me.

   I'm done. I did my part. I did everything the universe ever asked of me. Everything karma needed. I charged up the mountain. I found the people falling off the cliff. I found the kid's animal. But? I'm done now. I joined the ranks of the karma warriors? My period of service is ended. Its been, what. Twenty years, give or take. I should have died, several times. I write my will out, before I go into battle. I forsook my life. For others.

   I stood? And held my bridge.

   I'm happy. No matter what else I do now? When I die. I get to go to Valhalla. I get to sit at the table? With the men. With Wiz. With his mentor. No matter which one of us dies first now, me or Panic. We both go.

   I'm getting faint again. I grab another one of the amyl nitrate capsules I was given. I break it, and cup it in my hands. I inhale it deep. I'm reminded of Wiz, asking for adrenaline shots on the ambulance ride. For just a little more time, and he knows he's not going to make it. I'm ashamed. I know I'll make it. The powerful heart stimulant, does its thing. I can suddenly stand upright, and walk straight.

   The police are coming in, as we're leaving. They're talking briefly to Vladimir. One of them shakes my hand, after Panic. I'm not even in the mood. He's speaking in Russian. I stared him right in the eye.

   "Fuck police. Fuck NATO."

   He backs up from me, afraid to touch me now. He just smiles and nods. Honestly? I thought I was doing a whole lot better than I must have actually been. I slowly lost steam. I wasn't scared. I felt good about it. I got cold? But, I felt a warm and wet feeling at the same time.

   I could see Wizzy.

   I was leaning against Panic in the back seat of the car. I felt good. I was quiet and smiling.

   "Hey. Honey."

   "Yeah."

   "Rally point's in hell."

   I could only see the back of the seat, of the driver's seat. I heard Panic scream something, but I honestly couldn't tell you exactly what. I remember fumbling, wanting another amyl nitrate capsule to break and snort. I was tired and wanting to go to sleep? Those things made me awake.

   And honestly? I was warm and comfortable. I could see Wizzy, smiling and shrugging. What can you even do. It looked good. It felt good. Going over. People you loved and missed? They're waiting on you. Your ancestors. Your line, all the way back. To the beginning, of all things. I'd be embarrassed to be here, my ancestors, and all the way back... seeing everything I've done, and did, and what I've become and learned and displayed.

   But? I'm not embarrassed. I'm proud. I did what was right. Every step of the way. I? Have nothing, to be ashamed of. When I walk into the afterlife. Into Valhalla. I'm a little confused. I'm seeing my little dog I remember from childhood, and I'm hearing Panic's voice. Panic, reincarnated as my childhood family dog? Okay. The dog speaks.

   There are other worlds to fight in, than these.