"The money could pose a problem. I have a few dump accounts for bribes, but using them will light me up on the grid like a Christmas Tree. If they haven't burned me yet, this might be a good thing, but it's a hell of a risk."
She looks over to the growing arsenal of captured guns.
"On the other hand, fencing a few boomsticks would yield some quick cash."
"Surely you know someone who can get you the money. The amount is a fair price considering the time constraints and the fact that they will be of prestine quality. An FSB agent would be fooled by them. As for fencing the weaponry, we might get $300 for the lot."
Elena looks over Jess with a suspicious eye.
"If you agreed to sleep with that scumbag, I bet he'd knock $500 off the asking price. I know this guy would pay twice that in Moscow for a girl of your caliber. I'm just saying..."
"I will consider that. And I do have a contact in Russia, I'm just not sure whether this is a favor I can ask of him - considering that it may take a while for me to repay the money."
"Money's the bigger problem. Do you have an account at a bank in Krasnoyarsk? If it's wired for net access, it shouldn't take too long for a cash transfer to clear. On the other hand..."
Quote: from Gatac on 11:04 pm on Sep. 7, 2004 "Money's the bigger problem. Do you have an account at a bank in Krasnoyarsk? If it's wired for net access, it shouldn't take too long for a cash transfer to clear. On the other hand..."
Jess eyes the pistol in her hand.
"How attached are you to Sasha?"
Elena rolls her eyes, smirking as she fires up another cancerstick.
"As I have said...he's a real scumbag. He's good at getting stuff that would take months to get on the open market, but I wouldn't lose any sleep if he were to suddenly stop breathing. In regard to an account in Krasnoyarsk, we Russians don't put any faith into the country's banking system. Nearly every transaction is paper-based. However, if it's just a matter of having access to a high-end computer, my friend Anatoli may be of help. He's studying computer engineering at the University."
"Very well. In that case, we should get some sleep. There is only one train that services this region and it leaves for Krasnoyarsk in the morning."
The rest of the night is uneventful with Jess being awakened by the familiar sound of Fyodor cooking breakfast. Trudging out in the knee-deep snow to the trainstation is a bit disheartening to Jess as she finds her unacclimated lungs burning in the brisk air.
Ninety minutes after departing Fyodor's cabin with arsenal in tow, the two arrive at the regional trainstation. Elena purchases two tickets and they are on their way to Krasnoyarsk thirty minutes later.
*09:15 hours, Krasnoyarsk local time*
The conductor gives the ladies' baggage a scrutinizing stare then punches their tickets. He then continues down the rows of seats, having an apathetic air about him as he does so. Out of her backpack, Elena pulls out a bottle of local hooch and some rye bread, tearing off a hunk and giving it to Jess.
"Don't worry about the conductor. He's a drunk and wouldn't care if we were hauling weapons-grade plutonium in our bags. He just likes to feel important. It will take about two hours to reach Krasnoyarsk. That will leave us plenty of time to scope out the meeting sight."
Jess takes the offered bread with a nod and tears a chunk out of it. Truth be told, Fyodor's breakfast will probably last her for a few long hours, but a bit of bread isn't going to burst anything.
"I suspect you're asking yourself just who I am to have so many people after me. And whether you're on the right side of the issue teaming up with me."
"To tell you the truth, I'm pretty sure I know who you are. Last night while you slept I checked the internet for high profile stories recently in the news. Your face came up in several British publications as well as on Interpol's Red Notice page."
Elena lights a cigarette and takes a swig from the bottle of hooch.
"I read what you're worth and the people who you know. I figure my help amounts to maybe half a million and a new start in someplace warm and tropical. Don't you think?"
"Knowing all the lies about somebody doesn't bring you any closer to the truth. Did I kill Vercetti? About as directly as I could get without actually shooting him. Does that make me a mob hitman? Of course not. He was just collateral damage."
That said, her tone turns more serious.
"As for your reward - you've shown your cards at a bad time. You see, I know where your contact will be. I'm back to fighting strength. And now that we're approaching something like civilisation, you'll find that I only get better. I speak fluid Russian. Give me an hour and some cash to work with, and I'll look totally different. The bag to my side contains a variety of firearms I may use or fence at my choosing. Five minutes with a payphone and some of the meanest badasses on this planet will be set in motion either to rescue me or burn down the block in Krasnoyarsk I happen to be in - kind of a gamble, really, but I like the stakes. Nevermind what I could do with the documents your dear friend is preparing for me."
Jessica pauses for effect, looking straight at Elena.
"I'm not out to cheat you, Elena. Time and resources permitting, I will reward you for your help. But this is my game, and the rules say that you can't expect to win anything in it. You don't trust me to do the right thing, go right ahead believing that. Paranoia's the word of the business. After all, truth be told, I'm still not entirely sure that you are really on my side."
That appears to be all for a second; Jess stares out of the window thoughtfully before finally turning back to Elena, smirking.
"Besides, half a million? That's just asking for trouble."
"Then perhaps I should tell the poorly-dressed FSB agent sitting three seats up from us that he'd make his career by arresting you?"
She stands up and begins moving towards the agent, turning back and glaring at Jess.
"You speak the language. You know how to carry yourself, but you are 1000 miles from the nearest NATO base and there are no public phones in Krasnoyarsk. The phone lines froze three years ago and no one has the money to fix them. Now, would you care to show me a bit of respect before I have you arrested with only the prospect of being gang-raped in a Russian prison???"
"What do you want to hear? That you'll get your money? Don't you think the best way for me to show you some respect is not to lie to you? Lies and lives are cheap. Half a million sounds good. Somebody promising you half a million sounds too good. You know what that promise would be worth? A bullet in the back."
Elena sits back down, looking Jess straight in the eyes.
"Good. I hope this means you'll stop your cocky western cowboy mentality. We both want out of this god-forsaken country and I intend of seeing that it happens. If the matter is settled, why don't we discuss the game plan for our meeting with Sasha?"
"There are no shades between cocky and dead. As for Sasha...if it's alright with you, I'll get a feel for the roads while you get rid of the equipment. After that, some shopping - can't go meet anyone I don't know looking like this."
"Agreed. Take a sidearm with you. Most people will tell you that along with not having public telephones, Krasnoyarsk's police force is virtually non-existent. They haven't been paid in over a year and will be more likely to help whoever is robbing you."
*11:25am KLT*
The train pulls into Krasnoyarsk Station with the sound of hissing air breaks and waiting crowd on the platform. While being on the edge of civilization, the train is the one lifeline that Siberians have.
Elena and Jess disembark, the chill of Russia stinging their faces.
"The Lenin statue is four blocks from here. That street will take you there. I will be going to the black market to get rid of our new acquisitions. I should be able to get you some decent clothes there as well."
She steps back from Jess, framing her with outstretched hands.
"You are...about size...four? That may be tough to find considering the mammoth babushkas that frequent the stalls. I'll see what I can do."
Elena looks up at the antique clock ticking away above the train platform.
"11:30. I will meet you in the square in two hours. If I do not show, call my friend Anatoli at this number."
(gives Jess a scrap of paper)
"You'll at least have a place to stay while you plan your next move."
With that, Elena turns about and mingles in with the crowd of passengers and peddlers hawking their wares about the station platform.
The clear blue sky and associated calm of a chilly winter day creates an eerie juxtaposition with the overall glum and unwelcoming atmosphere of citizenry of Krasnoyarsk.
Jess finds Lenin standing proudly in his square, a towering figure of bronze and steel still looming after a decade of alleged reform and change in Soviet Russia. Strewn about the square are any number of peddlers selling the latest in bootleg copies of Britney Spears, tubesocks, and the ubiquitous "meat" on-a-stick.
Jess impatiently waits for Elena's return, keeping an eye out on the who's-who of downtown Krasnoyarsk. Congregating around the statue are your basic teenage crowd, drug pushers, and assorted low-grade thuggery common in a city of this size.
13:45 winks a faded, weather-worn LED clock perched above the entrance to a would-be department store of sorts.
The next few minutes take forever to pass, Jess beginning to ponder the possibilities of leaving her frozen exile without Elena's help. Pulling out the number Elena scribed on the paper, Jess gets up off a freezing concrete bench and starts walking towards the nearest hotel when something taps her on the shoulder.
"What?" exclaims Elena, pulling Jess around to face herself.
"You have watched too many spy movies. This is not 1970 and you are not being watched by the KGB."
She hands two tattered plastic bags to Jess, checking her watch as she does so.
"Sorry for being late. The sale was a bit harder than I thought it would be. I could only get $200 American, which is pretty good considering the market is flooded right now. Apparently an Army supply convoy bound for Chechnya was ambushed a week ago. They had some good stuff...I picked up an extra box of ammunition for my Dragunov."
Gatac
