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Authors: Kourtney King

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By Thursday
her curiosity had reached its peak and after her last class, when everybody was
leaving she stayed in her seat and opened her mail, she’d memorized the
sequence of numbers
that had come to represent him.
When all the seats that surrounded her were vacated, she read his message. It
was longer than the first and his promise to see her again brought on the kind
of joy that would rival the brightest day but as she continued to read, her joy
turned to ashes in her mouth and she broke down at his words. The tears rolled
down her cheeks as she thought of the little boy who was abandoned by both sets
of parents, who was alone in a harsh world at such a tender age, who was forced
to grow up in solitude because the people he was meant to trust had broken
their implicit vow to love, protect and provide for him. In comparing her own
upbringing with his, which was the complete opposite, she let the tears flow as
she closed the laptop, crossing her arms over the table, she cried into the
nest they provided.

She
didn’t realise she wasn’t alone, at that point her emotions rendered her
uncaring of an audience. She felt a strong hand rubbing her back in a soothing
motion and a matronly voice say, “It’s okay my child, let it out. Once you’re
done, you can smile again. Don’t let a few tears give you more reasons to mope
in life than to smile
ntwana yami
.” She heard the comfort of the woman’s
words especially when she referred to Val as
her child
. She wanted to
explain that she wasn’t crying out of her own despair but for a man who had had
a miserable introduction to life. She took strength from the woman’s words
resonating in her conscious, there were more reasons to smile – Vlad had become
a successful man and had not let life’s circumstances keep him down. He was a
testament to the endurance of the human spirit. She looked up at the woman from
her crouched position and managed a thank you, gathering her belongings she
hugged the kind woman, who was there to clean up the class after every lecture,
and left. 

Her
mind was reeling throughout her journey home; from the walk to the bus stop,
her trip on the bus filled with other college students and as she walked the
short distance from her stop to the comfort of her new home. She was at a loss
for words, still not knowing what to say in her reply, the only thing she had
managed to discern was that she was out of her depth on this one. Getting anything
done was close to impossible; all she could think about was his story, his
life. She decided to write the day off and called up Macy, the wise one, the
sage of the group. “Hello my darling!” came her chipper voice.

“Hey
yourself,” was her sombre reply. She wanted to sound upbeat but could not pull
it off.

“Nah
ah, spill. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,
well it has nothing to do with me. I’m asking for a friend.”

“So
what’s wrong with this hypothetical friend?” Macy asked, ready to grab the bull
by the horns.

“No,
he’s a real friend. I just wanted to ask whether traumatic experiences in
childhood carry through into adulthood?”

“Well
that’s a vague question but in short yes, they can manifest themselves at
inopportune moments if the person has not addressed them and dealt with their
repressed feelings”

“So
the friend would need to go to therapy?” She couldn’t imagine a guarded man
like Vlad sitting on a couch talking about his feelings. “What if they aren’t
open to therapy?”

“Therapy
is a very formal way of addressing harsh issues and problems we face
psychologically and emotionally. You can achieve the same result by talking to
someone you trust that can help you connect the dots from the past to the
present. I’m shooting in the dark here so I need an actual problem…” Macy
trailed off.

“Okay,
orphans growing up without formal parents. That’s all I can say.”

“Hmmm
so this friend you are referring to didn’t have any parents growing up and now
he has trust issues, anger issues, may be possessive, withdrawn…” Macy paused
as she got lost in her own musings of what she had learned in the classes that
covered this topic. “I think it’s best to remember that our experiences shape
who we are and our formative years are when character development takes place.
It’s best to empathise with their experience and not offer sympathy or pity,
which can have an adverse effect. Help them feel out their emotions and in
certain situations when they may be prone to have an action-reaction reflex,
understand that those behaviours and attitudes are subconsciously linked to their
upbringing. Emotion evoking situations such as confrontations and arguments
need to be addressed accordingly, dealing with the issues that arise from those
situations rather than bringing in supressed feelings they may be carrying.
It’s a long process and don’t try to be a fixer. What you’re trying to do is to
help them manage the feelings one experiences in everyday life.”

“Wow,
that sounds like a lot” Val voiced her thoughts out loud.

“If
they didn’t ask for a therapist don’t appoint you as one. Just listen and be
aware of all the things I told you.”

“Thanks
doll. What would I do without you?”

“Fall
into an emotional pit that you wouldn’t know how to get out of” Macy quipped.

They
said their goodbyes and hung up promising to meet up when their schedules
coincided. She lay in bed thinking through Macy’s advice, still not knowing
what to say in her message. She decided to let the words rattle around in her
head until they settled, for now she had work to do and some reading to catch
up on. When she woke up the first thing she did was reach for her laptop;

Vlad,

Thank you for opening up to me on such a deep and personal
level. You seem to always give me the unexpected. I am sorry that you had such
a terrible experience in your youth because it vastly differs from my own. Know
that I do not pity you; you have made something out of your life where so many
would accept their fate rather than strive to do better. I will never know the hardships
you have faced, but I am willing to sit and listen if you need me to lend an
ear. I now see why you come across as cold and closed off, was I in the same
boat; I doubt I would be any different.

I'm still not sure on what level we’ll connect as I do want
to get to know you better, at the same time I can’t push you into a
relationship you don’t want. I just got out of a long-term relationship that
shook my confidence and when I met you at the bar, it was in an attempt to
re-establish my self-esteem - yes that is the warped logic of a woman at times.
I’m not sure I’m ready to be with someone new yet, but I do know I can’t be the
girl you fuck and leave. Maybe we can navigate the unknown when you return.

PS: no more talk about your luggage,
I-value-my-life-thank-you-very-much

Yours,

Val

Vlad
had been anxious for her reply, it had been three days since he sent her the
email regarding his very personal story. It stung that she may have read it and
not bothered to reply, the one person he had made himself vulnerable to could
not even be bothered to type out a “fuck you” to indicate she wasn’t
interested. It felt like a rejection, something he promised himself early on to
never feel again. As the days passed by with no word from Val, he felt his
temper was quick to surface and the discovery that the driver was trying to
fuck him over had eaten at the last of his patience.

 

The
day after the meeting he got in touch with his client to find out whether his
network of people reached into Iran, to which he answered in the negative,
furthermore the client would not pay for the weapons were they to be delivered
there. He also found out from Mike that the Turkish border with Syria was less
secure than the one that ran along Iran due to its long range and the
responsibility being held by various departments in the country who failed to
be accountable for any shortfalls. He was forced to deal with the driver in a
bloody manner, after beating out a confession, he learnt that he would have had
his merchandise hijacked once they crossed over into Iran.

 

His
anger was at the forefront, it had been simmering on the surface that day and
the discovery of betrayal broke the dam. He did something he had not been
forced to do in years since he left the brotherhood to become his own man. He
dragged the body of the driver from the abandoned house he had found on the
outskirts of the city and placed it in the bed of the old truck he had rented
for the day, he was barely alive but that would cease soon enough. When he got
to the address of the driver’s home at 3 a.m. everybody was asleep. He pulled
the dying man out of the truck along with an eight foot stake he had found. He
dug a hole at the entrance of the gate then went back to retrieve the limp
body. Using his massive frame for leverage he stabbed the sharp end into the
drivers gut until it protruded on the other side. If the man could scream, he
would have but he was too far gone as he coughed up blood. Heaving the man into
an upright position on the pole, he slid a few inches down from the force of
gravity and his own body weight, he placed the stake in the spot he had dug for
it. He had taken on the name of Vlad at the age of sixteen; the day Dorin
Stanislav joined the brotherhood and became no more, the name modelled after
the fifteenth century prince. Impalement was what Prince Vlad Dracul was famous
for, it was a testament of his strength and a symbol of his ruthlessness -
showing no mercy and demonstrating sheer brutality when it came to his enemies.
This was a message to the driver’s co-conspirators, a warning not to fuck with
him if they wished not to suffer the same fate. That happened on Thursday.

 

By Friday morning, after having acquired a new
driver who would be handsomely compensated and knew what was at stake, his life
and that of his entire family, Vladimir was on the road to the town of Ar
Raqqah. He had decided to hire a few more hands that would accompany his cargo,
the added expense would dip into his profit but the security risk was too high
to forgo. He had not checked his tablet, his composure was slipping because of
her and the added pressure from his client, he needed to remain focused on the
task at hand. Just thinking about her sent him into an emotional tailspin; he
needed to stay away from any communication between them. The only people that
needed to contact him were Mike and his client, both of which had a direct line
to call him on if something urgent came up.

Chapter Six

Vlad
was glad to be back in a stable, running and for the most part peaceful, part
of the world. The journey to the town of Ar Raqqah had been arduous – driving
on rugged terrain and concealing his identity or purpose for being in a town
that was now playing host to masses of people fleeing the war ravaged regions.
What was once a quiet town close to the border of Turkey had now become a make
shift market catering to the needs of the increasing migrants. The throng of
people that were now temporary residents were a hindrance to the covert
operations he was planning. Someone was bound to notice the trucks and even
though they may not be aware of what they contained, they would be
indiscernible from the others that came in carrying food and aid. He'd managed
to mark out the travel route and drop off location with his convoy of men. The
information had been relayed to his client who was pleased with his meticulous
planning and attention to detail. The only part left to finalise was the
shipment from Russia and payment, which he would conclude in the coming days.

Back
in his hotel room he allowed himself the chance to relax and looked at any
communications sent through in his absence. He read through Val’s response
among the others and decided to forgo the back and forth word games. He needed
to see her in order to gage what exactly was going through her head and
establish what needed to be done to assure her that they were on the same page.
He typed out a quick message, choosing not to continue the discussion of his
past.

Add
me on Skype username: 01123581321. Will call you on Wednesday 8PM CAT.

He
booked a flight from Istanbul to Moscow where he would organise the arsenal
shipment from. The boys in the kitchen had been busy. The boys he was referring
to were specialised weapons engineers, engineering technicians and engineering
technologists who used CAD software to address the weight, shape, velocity,
aerodynamics and impact of the weapons created to ensure they hit their targets
with efficiency and effectively. It was highly technical and he respected the
science behind it however, he did not envy their position. He much rather
preferred the business end of dealings. The Russians were always a country of
contention for the U.S because they were technologically on par with “the
greatest country in the world” and dominated the weapons industry in Europe.
What he was looking forward to seeing were the precision guided bombs of the
SU25SM with a range to strike anywhere within the country via satellite which
is considered the most accurate guidance system compared to laser or TV
systems. The Russians would make use of the GLONASS system rather than the US
GPS system because of its accuracy in higher altitudes. He would also get a run
down on the FAB-500 gravity bombs and the BetAB-500 that employ solid fuel
rocket boosters. These he would supply in smaller numbers because they were
devastating area weapons capable of causing massive destruction. He would also
supply the AK-200 released in 2014 and the AK-12 released in 2013 which were
modelled after the infamous AK-47.

As
much as technology gave in the modern world, it was just as capable of taking
away. His shipment consisted of mainly hand held combat rifles, with bombs and
missiles provided in smaller numbers because of the sheer weight of these
weapons. As much as one would like to supply Tanks, torpedoes and aircraft, the
sheer weight and transportation required more bureaucracy and transparency from
too many governments and organisations that he would not sign up for. He had
charted a plane from one of his contacts and everything was loaded and ready
for take-off.

Vlad
finally breathe again and take in Moscow, which he considered to be his second
home. He’d spent the past five years travelling the globe but the familiarity
of the streets, establishments and language he’d spend a good portion of his
life surrounded with brought on nostalgia of the past. He had called up Andrei
who he’d been friends with for so many years, he considered him a brother. They
had met on the streets of Romania and formed the lost boys of the brotherhood. 
There were men who he did business with that he’d developed somewhat of a
friendship, but they didn’t know him like his brothers – the men who had
suffered alongside him through a life of desolation and poverty. On the streets
of Satu Mare, they slept in old and abandoned buildings for shelter and were
nothing but common law thieves among their people.

They
crossed over to the Ukraine and finally Russia with the lucrative expansion of
their dubious operations. They never set out to be criminals, it was the result
of not having a choice based on the life they were born into that pushed them
into the seedy underworld. Andrei knew the man behind the man, both Vladimir
and Dorin. Together they inspired hell on earth but his brother also kept him
sane when his rage threatened to overtake him at times. He had to keep in touch
with his brothers, they reminded him of how far they’d come in life and
sometimes that was necessary when greed and the need to overextend yourself in
the acquisition of more power was ever present. Over the years he had taken on
different aliases and sometimes found himself getting lost in the different
identities he assumed.

Being
an arms dealer demanded someone to be a ruthless pragmatist. War has been an
ongoing phenomenon for millennia. From the clubs, axes, spears, swords, cannons
and guns that have been used throughout history, one could surmise that even
though the reasons behind battle may vary, the only difference now was that the
effects were spreading further into regions of peace and the victims were often
innocents. If you actually thought about the lives that would be extinguished
in the blink of an eye, you would literally go mad and so Vladimir chose not to
think about these individuals, he just thought of the job that needed to be
done. If he stopped then someone else with the fortitude to withstand the
grotesque nature of this business would take his place. Walking into a
nondescript bar he met Andrei where they shared more than a few drinks and
caught up on old times as well as any recent developments from the missing
member of the trio - Razvan. They were once five but David had died in a fight
over territory in Romania when they were small time thieves and Christi a few
years later when a drug deal turned sour after they started their Ukrainian
operation. It was a wakeup call that at the rate they were going with their
illegal activity, they were bound to end up in an early grave.

He
learnt that Razvan was now a father and happily married. This wasn’t surprising
seeing that he was always the one to exercise caution and maintained a strict
policy to attend school and further his education when the rest of the brothers
couldn’t be bothered to assimilate into a society that had deemed them to be
nothing more than vagabonds. The code of the brotherhood after the death of
David and Christi was one that called them to protect each other at all costs.
They were the family to each other that they never had and had carved it into
their souls
“Bleed With Me and You Will Forever Be My Brother”
. The
mantra was tattooed on the trio, even though times had changed and they were no
longer the misfits of their youth, they still believed in the motto and would
live up to it if so required.

The
revelation of Razvan’s familial bliss had Vlad reflecting on his own personal
life. He had bedded many women and had made a prolonged arrangement with others
that gave him some insight into what having a girlfriend may entail and he was
not impressed by it beyond the exclusivity of the bedroom. The thought of a
wife was a stretch of his imagination, the women he knew were so needy –of his
time, his affection and his money; the only thing he could provide before
feeling claustrophobic was the latter. Saying his goodbyes to Andrei, he headed
to his apartment and his thoughts shifted to Val. She was exhausting when she
was worried or had too much time to think about things that could be easily
sorted out, but she was also someone whose company he immensely enjoyed.

He
couldn’t figure out what she wanted from their short lived union and
communications thus far, yet he knew she was the kind of woman one settled down
with. He could be there for her, provide for her on every front if she required
him to. He liked the fact that she was an ambitious woman who knew that time
was a commodity that could not be spared when duty called and hoped in earnest
she wouldn’t pressure him, like most women had, for some type of commitment he
wasn’t interested in – something he always stated initially. A wife to him was
someone who cooked, cleaned and was a warm body to go home to - this he
observed from the relationship his adoptive parents had. Over the years he’d
amended it to a wife also being a show-piece, someone who spent your money and
of course bore your progeny.

He
made a mental note to see Razvan and find out how he'd managed to reconcile the
man he was from the brotherhood to the man heading a family. Reaching his
apartment, he took a shower and climbed into bed naked with his tablet. He
accepted her invitation and saw she was online. There was a one hour time
difference between Moscow and Cape Town. It was 11P.M his time which meant it
would be 10P.M her time. He had told her he would call on Wednesday and it was
now Friday; two days and two hours late.  He hoped she was not asleep nor out
with her friends or anybody else for that matter.  He was usually very punctual
about any appointments he made, but Val had drifted to the back of his mind as
he was finalising the deal. Money had been transferred and the goods were
delivered, marking the end of yet another successful contract. It was close to
two weeks since they had that passionate weekend encounter but it felt longer
and sometimes he believed she was more beautiful and the sex was more intense
in his mind than in reality, memories did that to people. The business he was
in also had a knack for distorting reality; launching him from places of peace
to places of war, contrasting the poverty stricken and the opulently rich,
observing those with families and others in pubs and clubs. They was such a
dissonance in the different parts of the globe he had ventured into that he
wasn't sure which mould he fit when he’d experienced them all.

The
call rang and rang but was never answered. He decided to call it a night and
try again the following day

*****

Valerie
was glad the week was over. She’d already been given test dates for three of
her courses scheduled for the following month. Vlad had been on her mind and
the promise of having a face to face conversation had given her a glimmer of
hope after days of not hearing from him. Maybe she would get to find out more
about his personal life. Wednesday came and she was filled with the
anticipation of seeing his ruggedly handsome face and hearing the deep accented
voice. By midnight, her invitation was still pending and she went to bed with
disappointment. She was in a foul mood on Thursday and Natasha noticed. She
hated that what was meant to be one night with a stranger was wreaking havoc on
her mind. She was done playing games and entertaining men who didn’t value her.
Tash suggested they go out and have some fun so that Val could get over her
man-funk and after swearing to the ends of the earth and back that it would be
a man-free night, she relented and agreed to it.

On
Friday she got dolled up and went over to Toni’s house which is where their
adventure ended, forgoing the nighlife because pre-drinks turned out to be a
party in and of itself. Arriving back at her place she noticed she’d left her
laptop on and before she could turn it off she spotted the skype notification
of a missed call from
01123581321
. She was thoroughly annoyed because
she had managed to shove
him
to the back of her mind for the past eight
hours, yet here he was again. Like the virus you thought you cured only for it
come back when you least expected. She decided to try call him back even though
it was almost 3A.M, she would offer him friendship – nothing more.

Vlad
was deep asleep when he heard a ringing sound coming from somewhere in the
room. He wanted to ignore it but it could be important. Cursing his life in
times like these, he opened his eyes and traced the ringing to his tablet. It
was a call from Valerie, he checked the time and wondered why she was calling
at four in the goddamn morning. Accepting the call, her face popped onto the
screen. She looked as beautiful as he remembered. He rubbed the sleep out of
his eyes and gave a yawn wondering if he was still partially asleep and
hallucinating. He focused on the screen and could see the headboard of her bed.
Her face looked radiant, with her naturally pouty lips donning a seductive red
hue. He could see the top half of her frame which was well endowed with the
breasts he had gotten himself very well acquainted with. She looked like she
had come back from a night out and he realised that is why she had not picked
up his first call.

“Hi
can you hear me?” Val asked through the screen. He had been so caught up in
taking in the image of her that he momentarily forgot this was a live feed he
was getting.

“Yes
I can. I was just wondering where you went to looking the way that you do.”

“Just
out with the girls” she replied before stifling a yawn of her own.

“The
same girls you were with the second night I met you?”

“Yes…”
Val said hesitantly “I just thought I should call you back, anyway how have you
been?”

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