Polina nodded at Alexei's suggestions and, for a split second, she thought about adding that her papa had always preferred vodka when he drank, but that recollection made her think of how he'd drink that same vodka until he was in a rage and he'd rail on and on at her mama or how he'd drink himself stupid whenever he sold off one of his daughters. She thought better about bringing up something so morose and instead shook her head and pushed the drink menu away from herself. She smiled up at Alexei instead.
"I don't think I'll miss anything by not drinking either." She said. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Alexei smiled and nodded with admiration. Lots of people in his life partook in something or another, he would not have judged Polina had she decided to indulge in something. But he respected her choice, and he looked forward to spending their time together, unclouded.
“I think the sparkling water has enough bubbles to get us buzzy anyways.” Alexei said, a joke without the threat of a smile. But he was sure Polina could still tell, by the nonsensical nature of what he said, and the easy slouch he slid into. A playfulness behind his eyes as he cupped his cheek in his palm, and rested his elbow on the table. With his free hand, he reached to hold hers in her lap. (Nothing nefarious, I promise.)
—
Outside the restaurant, down the street and parked illegally in a loading zone, was Klondike. As Vania had said, the surviving traffickers from the sting operation that paired Alexei and Polina, had walked free. Also said by Vania, she had her best man on it; Klondike. He did not know, and Vania didn’t either, that Alexei would be dining here tonight with Polina; who was a stolen asset, so to speak. But Klondike’s intel on the traffickers moves, led him here. It seemed there was to be a big dinner, to celebrate not going to prison and to regroup. Ultimately, Klondike was meant to find out whom these men worked for, follow the trail to the root, and kill everyone on the way up. No more mercy, no more survivors.
“Finish what you start, mercy is for the weak.” A fairly famous quote from the Nikitin Matriarch herself.
Klondike was posted up in his vehicle, seat reclined back as he observed civilians from the side mirror. His long legs were stretched out, and he had a fidget in his hand, something with computer keys, that he was clicking one at a time in a continuous loop. He watched intently as a couple of men stumbled into the Michelin star restaurant. Klondike recognized them and their company from file he received from Vania. They were tall and broad shouldered, one had sort of ashy blond hair and very pink skin. The other had a long black ponytail, it was thin and greasy, like a rats tail, Klondike thought. They came with some women, a couple of other miscellaneous affiliates no doubt. They would not get the opportunity to celebrate.
Polina raised her eyebrows and suppressed a smile of her own to play into Alexei's own little joke.
"I think you might be right. The bubbles do make my head dizzy sometimes." She teased back, squeezing his hand in return. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
The gentlemen and their party were escorted into the restaurant, where they were then seated in the more populated side of the restaurant. Of course whatever money they had, they didn’t have Nikitin money, nor the class to reserve their own section. While it was on the opposite side of the establishment, the only thing that separated them from Alexei’s private section, was a stained glass partition the divided the different seating areas.
Klondike waited a handful of minutes before entering the building himself. Ideally Riley would not encourage a full on shootout, especially in a public place with civilians around. That being said, Klondike was aware of the exchange between Vania and her matriarch. She was clear about her disappointment, and Vania was just as clear about her rage. He had been instructed by the mafia princess, to eliminate however necessary, no matter the casualties. Vania killed without any restraint and little regard for other lifeforms. So it did not surprise Klondike that she would instruct him as she did, on top of being post argument with Riley. Killing everyone was a weak resolve, but that’s where Vania was with it. Klondike wasn’t interested in getting a table, he considered asking to use the bathroom and walking by their table quickly and making his move then. It would be so fast, and so fluid, the surrounding tables would not be able to clock with confidence, what exactly took place. He remembered when Canefield was alive, he was sort of a pain about things like this. He was a drunk, but the fun kind. He liked to find a reason to join a table, take part in the drink and conversation. He would drag it out until the wee hours, until the restaurant closed or after if possible. Maybe he would poison them, he kept his own personal brand on his person at all times. Housed in his suit jacket’s inside pocket, was an aluminum flask that he would offer their enemies as expensive drink. He once confessed to Ace and Klondike, that he drank it himself often, so he developed an immunity to the poison. So no one would suspect him, passing the flask around after he took his own proper swig. His troubled company would often pass away within minutes of consuming the drink. One time when Klondike was there, on a job in Italy, after the streets were empty and quiet, Canefield let out a heavy sigh like he was tired. Then pulled a gun from his jacket and shot everyone around the table point blank. Klondike had fast reflexes and a trained eye, but it all happened so fast, even he could barely process it.
Klondike wasn’t a showmen though, and he didn’t have any home brewed poison in his coat.
Although, on the busy side of the restaurant where the traffickers had been sat, the group had split up. One man had went to the bar, another to the bathroom with his date. While Vania specified her feelings on causalities, Klondike couldn’t justify going to the table and shooting the randos at the table for just being there. He looked past the hostess and tried to recalculate his movements, but not before Alexei spotted Klondike at the reservation podium. He tilted his head and made a puzzled expression. What was Klondike doing here?
Klondike made a similar expression, mirroring back to Alexei. Neither of them expected to see the other here. But as the two spotted each other, the pink colored man at the bar turned and noticed Klondike first. That night of the raid, things were busy to say the least. There was a flurry of violence, and people rushing to flee the scene. But Klondike was there, it was hard not to notice a salt n peppered man who was nearly seven feet tall. He was heavily tattooed, and while he tried to hide some of them with collared shirts, his distinct “Winnie,” tattoo, peeks out from the collar. The pink colored man recognized Klondike and jumped up, startled, but not before pulling out a gun from his jacket and shooting at Klondike; firing several rounds. Even though Klondike was an enormous target, the pink man missed every single shot. He hit some light fixtures, sending glass flying. He hit the walls too, dust and drywall immediately clouded the air.
It happened fast. One moment, Polina was playfully joking with Alexei as the waiter brought over their drinks, the next she was turning to look at someone who had caught Alexei's eye - and then chaos.
Polina's body jerked at the sound of the first shot fired, reacting before she could even register what the sound actually was. When she saw drywall and glass exploding, that's when she realized, beyond disbelief, that this was a shootout. In an instant, her hands shot out and scrabbled to grab onto Alexei, trying to yank him down under the table in an effort to protect him, however, as her fingers grasped at the sleeve of his jacket, she caught a glimpse of the shooter from the corner of her eye and she froze.
It was hardly a glimpse, but in that single, momentary glance, she recognized the man as one of her abductors from that night all those months ago. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Sometimes time felt like it moved slower for Alexei. When the guns fired, he did not flinch, nor did he cover his face when the drywall went flying. He felt Polina grasp at his jacket, and he felt a stillness fall over her in place of panic. Even as there was frantic movements from the fellow patrons, some rushing to hide, others to flee. Alexei’s focus remained on Polina, he looked down at her and followed her gaze. Her blue eyes shone like mirrors, tethered to her vision, was undoubtedly one of her abductors. That is why Klondike was here, he followed them here with the intention to kill them. Alexei shook the dust from his hair before shrugging off his jacket to drape around Polina’s shoulders. Then he placed a hand at the small of her back to usher her under the table.
Klondike was not an especially quick draw with his guns, that was Spider and Dewey’s thing. But he abided by the philosophy, that slow and steady wins the race. He was old and slow, but he was still good. People ruched past him to escape through the exit, Klondike had to push forward against them. The pink man reloaded his gun, even in the commotion, he kept his eyes mostly trained on Klondike. He steadied his aim and before shooting, he saw out of the corner of his eyes, fleeting yet familiar faces from that fateful night. First Alexei, whom he did not know by name but recognized him by his intense appearance. Then he noticed a stolen asset, a girl that was traded for. She was also recognizable by her distinct looks, pale skin and flaxen hair. She was not albino, but her luster could only be described as pearlescent. The fact of which meant, she was expensive.
Instead of shooting Klondike, he was striding toward him. The pink man made a calculated decision. He turned and aimed for Alexei, firing several shots. One hit the light over their table, which dropped and shattered on the table. The next shot hit the table, sending the shattered glass flying in response. The next shot found Alexei, it pierced him in the shoulder and went clean through; a little blood spurting out when it hit, the flecks of which, spattered against his cheek.
Alexei did not react to the first shot, nor did he wince an eye as he motioned to hide Polina under the table. Then another round was fired, this one hit him in the bend of his arm, this one did not go clean through. This did earn a hiss of annoyance through teeth, he could feel the lead in his elbow. His biology fought to heal around the foreign matter but could not. Alexei would describe the feeling as hot stone, lodged in his bones. But what made it hot was his blood, unable to breakdown the bullet. By now Klondike was on the pink man, he grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him off his feet. He drew back his fist and punched him, his knuckles connecting with jawbone. Klondike felt his own knuckles shift, cracking and breaking as he felt the pink man’s teeth shatter in his mouth. Klondike was not a werewolf, he would need time to heal from this break. Despite his obvious break, he did not relent. He kept his hand curled in a tight fist as he continued to punch the pink mans face. Though he was no longer pink, he was red and blue and purple. He dropped the pink man at his own feet before drawing up his leg, intent on dropping his heel on the mans face until he stopped moving. He stomped his foot twice before there was more gunfire. The man with the ponytail was here now, gun drawn as he shot around wildly. While there was no skill in it, a bullet managed to sail past Klondike with a narrow turn of his head. Another round found its way into his side. This was not a clean through shot, Klondike winced and groaned; partly in pain, in part annoyance too. He couldn’t believe “ponytail,” actually shot him.
Upon seeing one of her abductors, Polina froze. Her chest felt like a bear trap, tight and threatening to snap closed on her heart. It felt impossible to even take in single breath as memories of that night came bubbling to the surface. However, before she could be swept back up into the memory of that night completely, she was brought back to the present, and equally horrifying, moment by Alexei's touch on her.
Polina allowed herself to be swept under the table by Alexei. She reached up to grab at his forearm to haul him down with her, however, just as her fingers brushed the fabric of his sleeve, she watched in horror as Alexei was struck by the gunfire. She felt a warm spray on her face that she quickly realized was Alexei's blood spurting from a gunshot wound on the very same arm she had been reaching from. As she watched wetness bloom on his shirt, she felt her mouth tremble and gape before a panicked wail erupted from her.
"A-Alexei!" She cried. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
While Alexei wasn’t especially bothered by having been shot, it definitely bothered Polina. His gaze darted from Klondike, whom jolted with recoil from his own gun wound, to Polina who cried for him so sweetly under the cover of the table. His expression sort of softened sympathetically, she was frightened, rightfully so. Alexei would have to remedy this, escort her from his place swiftly but not before eliminating the traffickers. Alexei grabbed a silken napkin from atop their table, he shook it out, airing out any fallen glass or drywall before dabbing it at Polina’s face, blotting at his blood on her cheek.
“It will be okay, I have to do something though. I need you to wait for me under this table. Don’t come out until I come get you.” Alexei instructed Polina quietly.
Klondike staggered but remained standing, clutching at his side before smiling in the face of ponytail, then stomping his foot down on the pink mans face. There was an awful squelch paired with a wet crunch. The ponytail man shot at Klondike again, another careful turn of his body, a shifting in his hips, narrowly missing him. He drew his own gun then, but not before being tackled by one of the dates brought by the traffickers. She was probably ninety pounds soaking wet, she wore a tight cerulean colored dress and clear heels. She was spotted all over with freckles and birth marks, a blotchy red one on her face that covered her cheek. She was screaming, banging on Klondikes chest as she shook her head wildly in hysterics, blond hair flipping with each violent motion. Klondike tried to hold her, to still her thrashing. But not before ponytail did it for him, he shot again, missing Klondike again but hitting the blond woman. Klondike supposed she was the pink mans date then, rather than ponytails.
The woman sank to her knees before dropping onto the floor all together. Blood pooled under her thin frame, dying her dress almost a dark eggplant color. Klondike wished he had time for sympathy, but he didn’t. He could hear Alexei coming up from behind somewhere, his footfalls were heavy as he surged forward. Klondike leaned against the bar to make way for Alexei, who barreled forward with his shoulders dropped low. He tackled ponytail, like the woman had tried to do to Klondike. But Alexei weighed more than the girl and ponytail put together probably, he was all muscle and brute strength. It was controlled and he knew where to hit the man so his center of gravity was challenged, sending them both onto the floor. Alexei wretched the gun out of the mans hands with ease, throwing it away from them as they tousled on the floor. Alexei rolled the man under him, wrapping his arm around his head and looping the other through the arm of the man and connecting. He squeezed and rolled them back, his biceps squeezed on the mans windpipe and he gasped painfully for air. It was his turn to thrash, he kicked his legs and slapped at Alexei wildly with no avail. His face turned red, before turning purple and Alexei could see the blood vessels in his eyes begin to burst and his nose bleed. Alexei’s own wound spurt blood sporadically as he squeezed, still bleeding around the bullet he would no doubt need to dig out after this.
"W-w-wait, wait, Alexei, don't go, don't-" Polina's shaking hands floundered as she attempted to grab at Alexei's wrist, only for him to swiftly step away before her fingers could lock onto him.
For most of Polina's life, violence was like a foreign concept, something she was unfamiliar with and was not privy to. It wasn't until things went sour with her father's gambling addictions and other troubled habits that it became a part of her reality and even then the secondhand abuses she witnessed then paled in comparison to the violence she had a front row seat to presently. She watched in horror as Alexei strode headlong into the fray, moving with purpose and intent that left no room for any hesitation or fear it seemed. Even with the confident set of his shoulders, she wanted to run after him and retreat to safety with him, but the woman who lay dead on the floor near her presumed lover's corpse made her hesitate. Still, it wasn't a complete deterrent as she placed trembling palms out in front of her and dared to scoot out from under the table, jaw wobbling.
"A-Alex...Alexei..." She simpered, scared but wanting to go to him, even as she watched him grapple another man who she recognized as being one of her captors that night months ago. She watched as he viciously locked his arms around the man's neck and squeezed tight. She'd known of Alexei's true strength since the first night they met when he killed another one of her wrongdoers in a similar fashion, but it was still hard to reconcile that brutality with the tenderness which he held her with so often. It was an admittedly frightening sight, but she found it was not as worrisome as the blood spurting heavily from his wounds still. Just as blood rushed from his shoulder and arm, glittery little tears gathered in Polina's lashes and she let out another little simper as she forced herself up and out from under the table. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Alexei didn’t release the man until he felt the familiar sag, of a body going limp and lifeless in his grasp. He allowed the man to drop before carefully rising to his feet and smoothing out his shirt with his good arm. He saw Polina inching from under the table toward him, he opened his arms to her in a beckoning gesture.
“I told you to wait for me.” He said, though it didn’t read like a genuine scold. Probably because Polina could do no wrong in his eyes.
Polina’s knees wobbled, but she took a step forward, and then another, and then she was rushing towards Alexei with her tears flying behind her. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she hadn’t forgotten his injuries and slowed as she approached. She paused at the man lying dead at Alexei’s feet and hesitantly stepped over though it felt a might disrespectful. Regardless of him being one of her abductors, he had been alive just moments ago. Once clear of the corpse, she reached up to fuss at Alexei, shaking fingers touching his face first before letting out a bubbly little sob and her hands fluttering down to his shoulder injury.
“W-w-we need to-a doctor-we need a doctor for you.” She sputtered, worried and afraid. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Alexei smiled softly, as Polina bubbled over with concerned tears over him. He would need to see Peter or Daisy, to retrieve the stuck bullet. Though Alexei felt like he could dig it out himself, he was constantly being scolded by their family doctors about stray bullet fragments. He still wasn’t worried about that, but he didn’t want to hear the lecture. He cupped Polina’s cheek before wiping away at her tears, smearing some of the blood that had made it onto her cheek earlier.
“We’ll go to the doctor.” He nodded to assure her. “Are you hurt at all, цветок?” He asked her.
Klondike shuffled forward then, clutching his own gaping wound.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I couldn’t help overhear about a doctor?” Klondike offered somewhat bashfully. “Did you valet?” He asked Alexei, who nodded and Klondike deflated with a sigh and frustrated hiss through his teeth. “Guess we’ll take my ride- let’s move kids.” Klondike urged, nodding at the door. They couldn’t be here when the police arrived, it’s best to not get roped into questioning and court dates. Since it’s the Nikitin name too, the Society would get involved as well. They needed to disappear quickly.
“I’m fine, I’m not…I’m not hurt, but you…Alexei you were shot!” Polina sobbed, what little composure she had breaking. She could barely pay Klondike any mind as she tried and failed to will herself to let go of Alexei and move. She simply clung onto him and cried. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Alexei could see that Polina was fully transfixed on him and his gun wound, she probably didn't even hear Klondike. So he put his hands on her shoulders and gave them a little squeeze.
"Okay, let's go Маленькая голубка. Let's go to the doctor." He encouraged her, ushering her forward.
Polina continued to cry, though she allowed Alexei to urge her forward. She couldn't quite understand how Alexei could be so unbothered while she felt totally rattled. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
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