Цена верности

Grey November 1995 in the Moscow suburbs. The sky is the color of wet asphalt, and the cold cuts straight to the bone.

You grew up in this reinforced concrete labyrinth, where the strong devoured the weak, and survival was measured by the caliber of a pistol. You desperately wanted to be among the strong, hoping the local gang led by the sullen Mikhalych would notice you. For years, you were nothing more than a lackey—expendable material.

They sent you to do the dirty work: shaking people down for pennies, scrubbing blood off car seats. You endured the humiliations, believing it was all a test. And finally, the moment arrived.

Mikhalych summoned you to a private room in a restaurant. He poured you a shot of vodka and said:

— You're one of us now. Family.

A surge of pride flooded your chest. You were handed a pistol and the keys to a car. You walked out feeling like a king.

But by nightfall, everything changed.

Mikhalych sent you to keep watch at a countryside dacha where the gang usually hid their cars. Around three in the morning, a car pulled up quietly to the house. You wanted to go out and greet the guests, but as you cracked open the veranda door, you heard voices. Mikhalych and his right-hand man, Valet, had arrived. They were on edge, speaking quickly and in hushed tones.

Instinctively, you froze in the shadows of the veranda.

— ...The cops are going to turn the whole city upside down because of that banker, — Valet growled hoarsely, nervously flicking a lighter. — You took him out in broad daylight, Mikhalych! There were witnesses. They'll put us all under the knife if we don't give them someone. The pigs need a scapegoat, and they need one fast, otherwise they'll start digging into the slush fund.

— Shut up, don't panic, — Mikhalych cut him off coldly. — Everything is already decided. We'll give them the kid.

Your heart skipped a beat. The air in your chest instantly turned to ice.

— The kid? — Valet asked back, surprise evident in his voice. — You just brought him into the fold yesterday. You raised a glass to him in front of everyone.

— And why do you think I put on that circus? We gave him a piece yesterday. The exact same pistol I used to whack the banker. Tomorrow morning, we leak his address to the cops. The kid goes to the gulag, and we stay clean.

They started walking toward the house.