The Bear

Day Sixteen Moscow

The car pulled onto the thoroughfare that ran parallel to the track of the cell towers. Sasha and Donald pulled to the side, bringing the nondescript vehicle to a stop. The day was nearly half gone when they exited and began to walk up the street. The wind that had punished the area at dawn’s light, had finally relented. Under other circumstances, it would have been a beautiful day for a stroll.

“Quite the area.”

“It’s an up and coming business district. I’m sure it’s no different than all the ones back home.” Donald was careful not to talk specifically about America, never using the words that could link him to the US. “Years ago, this place was nothing but a run-down slum.”

“You couldn’t tell it now.”

“New money has a way of doing that, freedoms that the Russian mafia has more than taken advantage of.” Donald pulled his coat tight around his chest as a gust funneled down the street.

“So, what do we do now, just wait for the phone to ring?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Donald looked up at the neon signs advertising nearly everything the young and growing middle class of Russia could want. It was bars and cars and young people testing their limits on a nightly basis.

“It’s kind of like a young Atlantic City, without all the fun stuff, like an ocean and beach. But the younger crowd is flush with money and they’re drawn here. The mafia likely runs or owns most of this.”

“So how does someone of your background know so much about mafia connections?”

“When you keep your ear to the street for political reasons, you’d be surprised what you pick up on. Corruption loomed large in the early days after the Soviet government fell. Politics and greed rolled hand in hand.” Donald stopped and looked up and down the street. “I figured we’d take a look at some of the buildings and get a feel for what they’re like.”

“Such as room size, large room and small room venues.”

“Exactly,” Donald replied. “If it does come down to a firefight in an area like this, the training you’ve done will come in handy.”

“And if it’s somewhere else?”

“Then you rely on your military training, and we improvise.”

“We?”

“You never know sir. I may be along for the ride,” Donald said. “You just never know.”

They pulled open the door next to where they stood as three young ladies approached. Sasha nodded as they giggled and stepped inside. He shrugged his shoulders with a slight grin and extended his arm, pointing the way in.

“When in Rome,” he said with a smile.

The club was dingy, the burning neon filtered by the smoke that hung in the stale air. Sasha thought it was just like any other dive bar he had ever been in. Change the language to English, and young people were just that all over the world, young people looking to hook up with other young people. They slid up to the bar and ordered a beer.

“Not quite what I’m used to,” Sasha said.

“You get used to it.”

“How long do you think we’ll have to wait?”

“Hard to say, actually. I suppose it depends on how impatient they really are.”

“Greed begets greed, I suppose,” Sasha replied. “If what’s really happening is happening, that’s big money. The faster things ramp up, the faster the money lines the pockets. But at some point, someone has to realize that money won’t just gush in. It has to be rolled.”

“And that’s what organized crime does. They roll money. They bury money where no one else can find it.”

“Just like the cop shows?”

“Just like them, Sasha. Art imitates life.”