Tatiana of Wrath

The city of Sadansk was gloomy to begin with. 

But it was gloomier in the winter. 

The Eastern European city did not have many modern buildings. And the few low skyscrapers that were considered new were only located in the center. The rest of the skyscrapers were from a half-forgotten Soviet past, and they stuck out of the earth like old jagged teeth that should have been removed long ago. 

As you leave the center of the city towards the outskirts, everything becomes more dilapidated. The roads get worse and the potholes become deeper and more numerous. The trams were at least 40 years old, and many of the windows were broken.

By the time you have driven for twenty minutes from the center, there was almost nobody to be seen walking on the cracked and broken sidewalks. Out here, nobody paid rent, because all of the apartments had been condemned and abandoned long ago. To find a place to live was simply a question of survival of the fittest. 

Nobody important lived out here. 

The night was cold, and snow was falling heavily. Every 20 seconds or so there would be an angry gust of wind: the kind of wind that bit your skin and made it feel much colder than it actually was.

At the bottom of a ten-story-tall, concrete high rise, there was a small banded cafe with broken windows. Amid the broken chairs and tables scattered throughout, there was a man standing over a small cot in the corner. 

He was of average height and had long black hair that went down to his shoulders. His clothes included a dark green trench coat, a white shirt underneath, and worn-out jeans. On his feet he was wore Luis Vuitton shoes that were very worn, and should have been replaced long ago.

Sitting on the cot was a nine year old girl. Her build was very skinny, and it was obvious that she was not being properly fed. She had short rough scraggly hair and an old tattered white tank top, that hadn’t been washed in some time. The pants she was wearing were in a similar state. 

She looked like a school child getting a lecture from an abusive teacher.

“If you can’t pick pocket worth a damn, then how do you expect us to make any money?!?”, he yelled in a furious tone. “This is the 5th day god damn day that I sent you out, and after 8 hours you’ve got nothing to show for it!!!”

The girl simply sat there, intentially avoiding eye contact by looking down and to the left at the corner of the room. Her bangs were long enough to cover her eyes.

“Nobody has any money”, so in a very strained, but low tone. 

“What?”, said the man, with a look as if he was having trouble comprehending what had just happened.

She was silent and painfully bit her lip, as if quietly punishing herself for doing something that she knew was wrong. 

The man took off his sunglasses that he wore at almost all times,even at night. He calmly put them in the left breast pocket, and lowered himself to her eye level. 

“Answer me when I talk to you”, he said in an even quieter tone, which made her even more nervous. She had been working for him long enough to be able to detect the subtle signs that betrayed his emotions. Whenever he got quiet, she new it was time to be alarmed. 

It was the calm before the storm.

“I’m gonna ask you….one more time”, he said with his voice still low but noticeably shaking with rage. “What….did…you…..say”, he said, now visibly struggling to contain his rage. 

With the speed of a cat suddenly sensing danger, she jerked her gaze from the corner, so her defiant eyes met his. She looked like someone who had been holding back a reservoir of anger, and the damn finally burst. 

“I said nobody has any m-“. 

He took his right hand and back handed her across the right side of her  face faster than she could blink. Her head fell immediately to the cot. Luckily her fall was softened by the one dirty pillow that he allowed her to have.

“Listen to me you little brat. You owe me everything. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be starving in the street like the other little brats in this slum!”, he said with a scream.

She struggled to sit up in the cot again. She was holding her right check which was now red, and even a little black and blue. She had tears in her eyes that were not tears of fright or sadness, but of anger. Her gaze met his again, and it was as defiant as ever. They stared at each other for a few long seconds. Then he chuckled lightly: 

“Hehehe. You know what I should do?”, he said with a hypothetical and almost sarcastic tone. I should just have you sell yourself to those rich perverted fancy-pants business guys who come from the center. They’ve got money, and they always pay top dollar, hehehe. 

The girl immediately lowered her gaze and clenched her teeth. She could take the beatings and personal insults all day. But this was something she was terrified of and he knew it. Her grip tightened around the thin piece of metal that was helping to hold the cot up.

“Yea. That’s an idea…” he said almost as if thinking out loud to himself. He stroked his chin with his right hand as if pondering a potential solution to a long-standing problem. Even on a good day a gypsy girl can only pick so many pockets. It depends on the day and what part of town you’re in….there are so many factors” he said, closing his eyes and  shrugging his shoulders.

“No!”, she said suddenly. The defiance and anger in her voice was now replaced with fear and remorse. She stood up, now visibly shaking from the cold as well as from fear. “I…..I didn’t mean it……I’m sorry Anzar”, she said with a whimper. A few tears rolled down her cheeks. 

“Hahaha….c’mon Tatiana. I was only kidding” he said with a smile as if he just told a practical joke. He playfully put his arm around her shoulder.

“You need to lighten up” he said like a friend giving partially sarcastic advice. But you know what? That’s why I like you. You got spunk. You’ve been through some stuff, but you don’t let that stop you. You use that anger, and sadness, and loneliness as fuel to get stuff done.” 

A cold winter wind blew into the room through the partially shattered windows. 

“You’re just like me”, he said as if giving advice to an old childhood friend. “I used to have it all: Fancy apartments, fast cars and  lots and lots of cash. I didn’t need to try to pick pocket people or whatever. I had hundreds of guys who would do that for me. I was living the life”, he said as if reminiscing.

But then the war took all of that away….all of it….I lost my money, my houses, mycars, and I even had to leave Grozny. I still can’t go back. 

He paused as if lost in an old memory.

“And you’re basically the same”, he said with renewed energy. “Your dad died in the war and your mother turned into a junky. A year later he was dead too. You had a good life too, but now it’s all gone.”

“But listen, I have a plan”,he said with a reassuring voice.. He was smiling as if he had all the answers to his and everybody else’s problems. We’re going back to the top….you and me. We’ve got a few months of picking pockets, then, we can grow our operation. We’ll go from working in the streets, to having other kids like you work for us. And you’ll be my second in command”, he said with rising excitement in his voice. 

“I’ll be the head honcho, and you’ll be at my side. I like that you’re a gypsy to. Where I’m from, we believe gypsies are good luck haha”, he said as if he told a hilarious joke. All I need you to do is - 

There was another gust of wind through the broken windows and the slamming of a door that had been opened. Some snow flew into the cafe. 

I man had walked in. 

“Who the hell are you?”, said Anzar as if someone had ruined what was otherwise an enjoyable time. 

You guys got any coffee?, said the stranger with a stoic face. He was wearing a black coat and a shirt with two hammers and jeans. Anzar answered in reply sharply:

“We’re closed. And even if I did, I wouldn’t give a broke drifter like you anything.” At this point he had turned his attention fully away from Tatiana and was facing the stranger. The wind was starting to bring snow into the cafe. 

“Do you play cards?”, said the man nonchalantly. He started walking slowly towards Anzar from the cafe entrance. Then, he took out what looked like a deck of cards and started shuffling them, almost as if he was about to play another round of a boring poker game. 

“I don’t! And you’re a dead man if you don’t get out of my cafe now!”, he roared, as Nastya flinched. It has been a long time since she saw Anzar this angry.

“Let’s see….”, said the man, again, as if he were doing a routine task. He was going through the cards one by one, occasionally stopping to look at the card, then at Anzar, then back at the card.

He finally stopped and pulled out a card. 

“Here we go”, he said in excitedly but with satisfaction. “Anzar Baserkaev. Age 38. Formerly the biggest distributor of illegal drugs in the Caucuses. Lost everything during the War of Eurasian Reunification. Now working as a small time criminal by getting orphaned  minors to beg and pickpocket for him. Well aren’t you a long way from home? 

The unnamed stranger lit a cigarette, exhaled, and turned the card around. 

It was a two of clubs playing card. It looked like any other playing card, except that the was a very detailed picture of Anzar. Under his face was the word “ Wanted Status”, and under that was written “dead or alive”. 

“You're the two of clubs? Based on your resume, I would have thought you be at least a 5 of hearts, or maybe even a 4, but a 2?……it’s a long drop from the top to the bottom…”

The man felt the card with his thumb, moving it back and forth.

A flash of anger lit in Anzar’s eyes, but then it subsided just as fast. He smirked slightly and shrugged his shoulders. He let out what seemed to be a sigh, the kind when something doesn’t go your way, even after you tried your best. 

“Yea, I knew they were looking for me. But I thought I’d have at least a year or so till the new Eurasian Union Government knew I was here. I did my best. Time to go h—-

Like a lightning flash, he reached for his Russian made “Grach “ pistol. The stranger was faster. There was a bang, Tatiana blinked and it was all over. 

The stranger walked over and took out a knife. With the precision of a surgeon, he sliced the bottom portion of his left ear, where there was the most cartilage. He took the piece of flesh and pulled out a very small micro chip with a pair of tweezers. He dropped it on the screen of his phone. I green light emanated off the screen as if it was scanning something:

“Identity confirmed. Anzar Baserkaev. Wanted by the United Republic of Eurasia. Bounty: 1 million rubles.” 

“They just don’t pay like they used to”, he said with a sigh as he took a bullet out of the chamber of his revolver and put it in his pocket. He put his pistol back in the holster on his chest.

The girl looked up at him with her face partially covered in the blood that sprayed from Anzar’s exit wound. The man was taller than average and had dirty blonde hair that was almost long enough to touch his shoulders. He had a black leather jacket and sunglasses over his head. His jeans were clean, but worn and his boots were black. 

After witnessing what just happened, she knew that she should have been panicking. But to her surprise, she had a strange feeling that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She wasn’t scared anymore. 

The man looked at the Tatyana and said: “are you his daughter?” After a brief moment, Tatyana shook her head. 

“So then you’re not upset that he’s dead?”, asked the man. 

Tanya shook her head again. 

“Figures”, the man said casually. He started walking toward the door. Before he crossed the threshold, he stopped and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a wad of cash and started counting it. He folded it and walked back to Tatiyana until he was about three feet from her. As he looked at her, there seemed to be an internal dialogue going on in his head. After a few seconds of silence, he finally said: 

“Take this”, and he threw the wad of cash on her lap. She looked down with a blank stare, as if she hadn’t fully processed what had happened. It was more money than she had ever seen in her entire life.

“It’s freezing out there, said the man gruffly”. “Get yourself to a hotel and a hot meal. Tomorrow, get yourself some new clothes.”

Tatiana looked up at him and didn’t say anything. 

“I have nowhere to go”, she said very matter of factly, as if she were telling someone the weather.

“What’s your name, said the man coldly?”

“Tatiana”. She replied. Almost as if she were on autopilot, she asked the man: 

“Who are you?”

“Dragoslav”.

Dragoslav looked at her for a few more seconds, turned around, and walked out the door and onto the cold darkness of the winter night. A few seconds later she heard a calm bit loud voice: 

“Are you coming or what?”, said a voice in the dark.

Tatiana put the cash into her pocket. Without grabbing anything, she followed him out the door and into the cold midnight snow.