Prologue
"Hello Viktor. It's been a while."
Viktor lowered his gun. He had been paranoid in the last couple of days and it wasn't getting any better. His wife and kids had been flown out of the country, but he had to stay behind. It was the only way to guarantee their safety.
"Hey. What are you doing here?" he asked the figure who had just walked into the room with him.
The other person took a seat beside him. They lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and slowly exhaled.
"Bad day, huh?" Viktor asked as he lit a cigarette himself.
"Terrible," the person replied.
"Vodka?"
The individual across Viktor shook their head.
"Nah. I don't think I can handle any more of that shit."
"Relax," Viktor replied with a chuckle. "It's vodka. What's the worst that could happen?"
There was a deafening silence as Viktor poured the drinks and handed a glass to the other person. They swirled their glass, raised it in a toast, and downed the hot stuff.
"Whew. Kicks right in," Viktor said loudly.
The other person just placed their glass on the table.
"Yo. What's with you? You don't seem cheerful," Viktor said as he grabbed the bottle and filled his glass once more.
"I've got cancer," the individual finally said.
"Whoa, I'm sorry," Viktor replied.
"I've got six months."
"Damn," Viktor added as he downed the drink again.
"How did they do it to you?" the person suddenly asked. "How did they make you more American than the rest of us?"
Viktor didn't understand the question. He looked blankly as the figure leaned back and took a deep sigh.
"You used to be the most brutal of us. Now, you're just a Yankee. Viktor no longer exists, does he?"
"What are you talking about?" Viktor finally asked as he switched into a deep Russian accent. "I have been here all my life. I learned to survive by becoming adaptive to my situation. You think I have all these because I am Russian? No, my friend. I did this because I wanted them to see me as an American. Americans love other Americans and forgive them for whatever shit they do."
"You're wrong," the other person responded as they got up. "They don't love you. They tolerate you."
There was a loud noise outside. The sounds of bullets tearing through the silence of the night echoed everywhere. Viktor grabbed his pistol quickly.
"Hurry! Get behind me!" He barked at the figure. The person simply stayed where they were.
"You are a fool, Viktor. You are a very big fool," they said. "What?!" Viktor asked.
But he never got the answer. A shot rang out and he had little time to react. His body slumped and crashed to the ground heavily.
"You should have stayed Russian," the person finally said as they left the house.
Three days later, Viktor's bodyguard's wife and children were found dead. Someone had tightened a rope around the wife's neck and hung her in the basement. The children were in the freezer, crumpled tight in a very small space.
