Kirov finishes packing, filling his duffel bag with some clothes, money, passports, a spare gun, and a few magazines. Zipping up the bag, he walks toward the door, but stops. He looks over to the hole in the wall. He looks down at his hand, making a fist. The wall wasn't strong enough to hurt his hand. But he was definitely in pain.
This wasn't normal; he's not meant to feel like this. Kirov wasn't sure what exactly he was upset about: that he argued and hurt Krisi's feelings, maybe he didn't want to see them go, or that he might actually be considering what Krisi offered him. Taking a deep breath, he goes into his bathroom and opens his medicine cabinet. He takes out a bottle of neural stabilisers prescribed after a job involving a cyberpsycho in Burgas. He hadn't taken them in over a year. He takes a close look at the mirror, pops the pills and turns to leave.
Making his way to the kitchen, he sees everyone ready. Marto was making some smoothie shakes for everyone to have, Vasko was nervously checking his bag to see if he had forgotten to pack anything, and Krisi was just sitting at the table, bag in front of her, a blank expression on her face.
"I'm going to go out for a smoke, get the bags into the car,r and we leave in ten."The rest of them nod to Kirov as he walks out. He lights his cigarette and takes a drag.
"You know smoking doesn't make you more mysterious or cool." Marto chimes in, joining him in the garden. Kirov looks at him, nearly cracking a smile at his sarcastic comment.
"How did you sleep?" Marto was taken aback by the seemingly out-of-character comment by Kirov.
"I slept fine." Marto sipped his smoothie, with Kirov noticing a tremor in his hand.
"Is that from boxing, or your new chrome?" Kirov points to Marto's shaking hand, with Marto covering it quickly.
"Don't worry about me, it doesn't suit you. The immunosuppressants are working." Marto walked back into the house, with Kirov wondering whether he was reassuring him, or himself.
Kirov finishes his cigarette and makes his way to the car. He finds Kiris and Vasko standing outside as Marto sets down all of their bags in the boot. Kirov takes a look at Sofia, the view from the hillside neighbourhood still stunning after all this time. Even though he was the only one staying, he felt something melancholic about this, as if it were a goodbye.
"Let's get moving." Kirov gets in the driver's seat, and the others get into the car, with Marto sitting at the front for more leg room, and Krisi and Vasko crammed into the back of Kirov's coupe.
They hit the road and get on the motorway. The usual one hour to the Serbian border was nearly cut in half, given that Kirov had no fear of speed cameras, given what was going on. Once they arrived at the border, Kirov flagged down one of the border police,
"Da li bi bilo potrebno izvršiti proveru?" The others look at Kirov, shocked that he could speak Serbian, an admittedly useful skill in his line of work. Bulgarian and Serbian were close enough for them to make out that he was asking about some type of inspection. Kirov exchanged a few more words with the officer and proceeded to open the boot of the car and get out. The others were a bit confused at this, turning to try and see what was going on, although the five per cent rear window tint was making this difficult. Krisi noticed that Marto started to breathe a bit heavier and that his fists were clenched.
"Marto, not yet, it's going to be fine, if Kirov needs us, we will know." Krisi lays a hand on Marto's shoulder as she reassures him. He unclenches his fist, but his hands don't stop twitching. Kirov gets back into the car and begins to drive off.
"You going to explain what that was about?" Marto asks Kirov, clearly on edge.
"We are at the border, he wanted to check our luggage, is that so hard to believe?" Kirov turns to face Marto, his face a mix of suspicion, confusion, and frustration. Marto doesn't respond and simply lies back with his eyes closed, trying to get that rest that he clearly didn't get the previous night.
Passing the border, the group kept driving for a few hours until they reached Beograd. Driving through the city, everyone was in their own world. Marto was looking out at the old communist apartment blocks, reminiscing about Varna. Vasko was locked onto his holo, fidgeting with some communication tech. Kirov had his head on a swivel, looking out from tails and driving the speed limit; his name didn't carry the same weight here that it did in Sofia. Krisi had her head stuck on the window, looking out at the Danube river, once clear and bright, reflecting headlights from cars, streetlamps and the like; now just a fast-flowing canal of mud.
Eventually, they parked in front of the Tri Šešira grill, the oldest grill in Beograd, an antique from a different,t more peaceful time. As they got out of the car, Kirotooke took a look at the restaurant. He hadn't been here for years. They walk inside and sit down at a long table.
"Pretty big table for just us?" Vasko asks, looking towards Kirov.
"Then it's lucky that it won't be just us, we are not here on leisure." Right as Kirov said this, three men walked into the bar, two of them were massive, built like bulls, and the other seemed younger, athletic, like Kirov.
"Drago mi je što te vidim Kirov!" He walks over to the table, with Kirov standing up to greet him.
"Nikola, I know your Bulgarian is better than my Serbian, so let's get on with it," Kirov says with a smile, as he embraces him. Vasko thinks to himself how Kirov can change his entire demeanour so easily, while Marto sizes up the other two men who were now sitting next to him. Kirov and Nikola sit down at the table. Nikola makes a gesture to the waiter, and he brings a bottle of whiskey to the table.
"Kirov, we obviously spoke earlier, but to confirm, which two of the three are we going to be taking care of?" Nikola points toward the others as he asks Kirov, a gesture that Marto took offence at.
"You can talk to us directly." Marto looks at Nikola as he takes a glass and pours himself a glass of whiskey. The other three are taken aback at this; this was out of character for Marto to be drinking.
"Kirov, tell your friend to calm down; whatever was stressing them in Sofia is not here." Marto keeps glaring at Nikola, who did not take what he said into consideration.
"Nikola, the man is right. But to answer your question, you will be taking care of the lady, and maybe the little guy. We still need to have a chat with him." Kirov looks at Vasko as he sips his whiskey, "Vasko, let's go for a quick walk, while the guys get your guy's bags." The two of them stand up from the table and exit the restaurant with the two men, splitting ways at the car.
"Kirov, I thought about your offer, and I think that-" Kirov interrupts him.
"Vasko, I know you won't work for me, or at least I won't allow it. You're not built for this line of work." Vasko didn't say anything, simply nodding in agreement, "I told Nikola to get you in contact with the NetWatch connect, if that's what you want."
"Thank you, Kirov!" Vasko exclaims as he goes in to hug Kirov, but holds back. Kirov noticed this and stuck out his hand for a handshake. With an understanding smile, Vasko takes his hand as they shake on their newfound agreement.
Making their way back to the restaurant, Vasko and Krisi's bags were on the table, and they were all standing up.
"I guess this is goodbye." Kirov put on a serious face, but they could tell this bothered him, "As much as I enjoyed our time together, don't come back to Sofia, it was a major headache." Marto and Vasko laughed at that comment, but Krisi remained silent. Marto went in to hug Vasko and Krisi, and Kirov just stood there, not sure what to do.
"In all seriousness, if anything comes up, you know where I live." Kirov turns to the door.
"Don't expect any cards," Kirsi said coldly, Kirov not turning back to meet her gaze,
"Marto, I'm waiting in the car when you're ready to leave."
Getting in the car, Kirov lights a cigarette. Looking through the window of the restaurant, he could see Marto still talking to Vasko and Krisi, both of them laughing and smiling. He couldn't get that out of Krisi, or at least he didn't. Getting annoyed, he slammed his hand on the wheel, beeping the horn to let Marto know that it was time to go.
A few minutes go by as Marto gets into the car and they take off. Kirov was driving noticeably faster than he was on arrival. Marto put on his seatbelt and started paying attention to the road.
"So are we going to talk about you and Krisi?" Marto looked at Kirov, waiting for an answer, knowing he probably would not get one.
"We don't have that type of relationship; we don't even have a friendship. You know better than to ask me that." Marto tiredly sighs, looking out of his window, the exit sign for Beograd passing them, as they make their way back to Bulgaria.
Some hours pass as they start to see the Sofia skyline. Marto had awoken from a nap just a bit earlier. They hadn't exchanged words since Beograd, Marto Tried, but Kirov simply ignored him. As they went to the Sofia circular road, instead of getting onto the next motorway for Greece, Kirov turned to go into the Boyana neighbourhood. Kirov noticed the look of confusion on Marto's face.
"I need to make a quick detour; it won't take long." Marto simply nodded and went back to sleep.
As it started to pour rain, Kirov put the car into park in front of the Boyana Church. He got out of the car, looking back to see that Marto was sound asleep. He took out his Holo and opened a tracking app. He had put two tackers on their bags back at the border.
"Oh no…" His heart dropped. Their GPS signal was not in Beograd or Novi Sad; it was in Bulgaria. The trackers were on the motorway, about an hour away from Sofia. Immediately, Kirov called Nikola on the Holo. He doesn't pick up. Kirov calls again, and again, and again. Finally, Nikola picked up.
"Kirov, what's the purpose of your-"
"Nikol, I'm going to ask you this once, before you answer. Remember, I know where your family lives."
"Kirov, you don't get to speak about my-"
"Shut up! Why are my people in Sofia?" The line goes quiet for a few seconds, "In exactly five minutes, if you don't give me a good enough explanation, your house will be painted red, and then black from the ashes."
"Kirov, I swear I did not think this was a problem. I don't understand why you are so upset. Your father told me that you called them back."
The Church started to blur, the sound of the rain dulled, and the sky seemed to start to turn sideways.
THUD
Kirov's face was on the grass as Nikola kept talking on the Holo. Kirov turned to stand up, hanging up on Nikola. Getting up off the floor, he checked the tracker again. One hour away from Sofia. He can intercept. But why was his father getting involved? He opened his contacts to call him, but stopped. A few moments of contemplation later. He walked into the church.