Page 112 of The Darkness is Calling

I smile.

We have discovered who won the bet.

“Ah, blyad14,” Sasha curses loudly, though the other two are no more discreet. “Do you take card?”

“No.”

One by one, they all take money out of their pockets or wallets and place it on the table beside the bottle.

Before we arrived here, the bet changed so that if I was right and the prisoners were British, they all had to give me the money. I told them all my winnings would go to Polina so she could buy bananas. More precisely, we have gathered three hundred pounds for a fruit they don’t like.

I turn my attention to the other one, who is still playing hard to get, so I go back to the first.

“Water or vodka?”

“Vodka,” he says without hesitation.

Dima comes with the glass and helps the man drink, his hands being tied to the arms of the chair. Both of them are now exposed, filthy bodies, hands bound, completely at the mercy of my madness.

“And you, my friend?” I ask the other one in a dry tone.

“Go fuck yourself, you filthy Russian!” He speaks in a language I recognize immediately, spitting at my feet, a strand of saliva clinging to his dry, cracked lips. “I know exactly who you are and that you’ll kill us no matter what game you have in mind. You’re a psychopath who has no business being in this country.”

“Hold on. Let me get this straight. I have no business being in this country because I’m a psychopath or because I’m Russian?”

“Both.”

“This one’s Albanian,” Yaroslav exclaims, delighted. “Half the money is mine, pashol nakhui15.”

He jumps from his chair, proud of having identified the accent of the man in front of us. In this moment, he is acting just like Sasha, and I wonder if this beautiful madness truly affects all of us in the family, him included. Yar always behaves like the eldest, responsible brother, even though in the organization, I hold the power. But when it comes to family, he is the most involved.

I smile.

“So, we have a racist motive here, though you are not English either. You seem to have a great affection for this country. Is that how he convinced you to attack me? Or was it money?”

“Both,” he throws at me proudly.

“Water or vodka?”

He frowns, confused.

“You answered the question,” I explain.

13(ru.) Prince

14блядь (ru.) - Fuck

15пошел на хуй (ru.) – Go fuck yourself

“I don’t need anything from you.”

“Then I’ll give your reward to your colleague.” I look at the other one, but he is already staring

at the bottle in Dima’s hand.

So much for their solidarity.

Perfect.