I don’t belong in your world

A luxurious black car drives slowly into the grounds of the busy stadium amidst a procession of vehicles. Concert-goers hurry quickly between the cars to reach the entrances, unaware that one of Europe’s most wanted arms dealers is inside one of them.

“Has everyone taken their positions? I know that prick of an Almeida will not hesitate to play a dirty trick...” The young man to his left nodded absently, his eyes fixed on the screen of the I-pad in front of him.

“JARI!”

Startled by the dark, thundering voice, that was laced with a thick accent, the young man quickly glances aside. The cold gaze of the man next to him instantly makes him feel uncomfortable and he feels bile rise in his throat.

Even though Arkka was his own father, he, Jari, tiptoed around the tall man like everyone else. Arkka, Arkadi Jokinen, was a ruthless arms dealer, but best known as a killing machine, a killing machine who wasn’t afraid to get his own hands dirty, and the events of the past left nothing to the imagination. Even his own family was not safe from the arms dealer’s wrath, Jari knew this all too well. Not that his father had ever laid a hand on him, his father never had, but others had. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

“Sorry father, All men are in position...” He offered the man his I-pad, but his father already had his eyes on something else; the huge crowd trying to enter the stadium.

From the backseat of the car, from behind a closed, dark coloured window, Arkka’s eyes slide over the slow-moving stream of people in the dreary October weather. He wasn’t in the least bit interested in the band performing that night, but this stadium was the only place he could negotiate with the Portuguese without being disturbed. It was common knowledge that the old stadium was being renovated, meaning that the cameras in the VIP areas were not yet connected. To be on the safe side, he had ordered Jari to bring a scrambler along just to be on the safe side. The device didn’t prevent footage from being recorded, but at least they couldn’t be overheard.

Had this meeting been planned earlier, he could have instructed his hacker to take control of the stadium’s security system. However, this appointment had only been made two days ago, and Ben, his hacker, had fallen down the stairs less than an hour before it was made, due to the man’s own stupidity, and was now in hospital with a severe concussion.

Suddenly, his phone pinged and he swiped his thumb over the screen to read the message.

Finally.

Arkka leaned over to his driver. “Drive to the back entrance, Simon has arranged for us to be on the VIP list.”

The driver gave him a quick nod and Arkka leaned back into the softness of the leather upholstery of the luxurious Audi. He didn’t give a shit about all the luxury he was surrounded by on a daily basis, the only thing that made his life even a little bit pleasant was negotiating, imposing his will on others and having control over other people’s lives, that made him get up every day.

He had it all..., prestige, money, women, men who did what he told them without asking questions, and yet.... In recent years, the only thrill he got was when he could take out his aggression on one of his opponents. His hand slipped automatically to his chest, where he had sheathed his favourite knife. Just two days before, he had driven the blade deep into the thigh of one of Almeida’s men and had twisted it around. The man had screamed like a pig but hadn’tgiven in. Only after Arkka had cut off one of his ears and put the tip of the blade against his eyeball had the man started to talk. Not that it had done him any good, all it had done was make his death quicker. After he had told Arkka what he wanted to know, the arms dealer had slit the man’s throat.

Arkka had left the body with his men and gone to his new mistress, but even that night he had failed to get into the mood. The broad had pulled out all the stops to turn him on, but once again he had failed to get him up. It hadn’t been the pretty young girl’s fault, not at all. She had a great figure, a beautiful, slightly modified face, and she knew when to keep her mouth shut, and yet... it just didn’t work for him. This one was like all his other mistresses, beautiful, young, obedient..., some of them even had PhDs. Hell, he had even had a beautiful lawyer as a mistress, but even she had only managed to turn him on sporadically. Inwardly, Arkka shrugged. It was probably due to his age. Even though his body still looked good at fifty-six, the hard years had definitely left their marks, marks that might not be visible, but were definitely noticeable to him...

“Boss...” Timo looked at him questioningly from the rear-view mirror and Arkka realised that they had already arrived at the entrance and that Timo was waiting for him to hand him his passport.

After the guards had checked the passports and the car had been allowed through, Arkka instructed Timo to park the car in such a way they could get out immediately in case of an emergency.