The Russian

[Vercetti21]

My version of the story of GTA IV, told from the antagonist's point of view. Basically, I'm filling in the 'gaps' we have been presented with from the trailers, screenshots, and what little information we have, and working backwards.

 

Any comments or critique is greatly appreciated.

 

Plot Synopsis

 

Alexsandr Barkov, who was once a small-time criminal, has recently been recruited as an associate to the Russian Mafia. He is ordered to travel to Liberty City with his friend and mentor, Sergei Lenin, in order to kill Niko Bellic, who is believed to be a traitor after the mysterious event of his father's death 3 years prior. During his search for Niko, Alex finds himself tangled in a web of chaos, murder, and betrayal as he is thrust into the American crime life, where everyone is out to get him, including the government.

 

Characters

*I will continually update this as more characters are introduced.

Major Characters

 

Alexsandr Barkov

Russian assassin; associate of the Russian Mafia sent to Liberty City to kill Niko Bellic.

 

Sergei Lenin

Alex’s friend and mentor; ranked high in the Russian Mafia and one of the Don’s closest friends.

 

Nikolai Bellic

Former soldier of the Russian Mafia; rumored to have betrayed the mafia 3 years prior and recently fled to Liberty City.

 

Roman Bellic

Niko’s cousin; Convinces Niko to come to Liberty City by lying to him about his wealth, but is actually in debt to many people and criminal organizaions.

 

"Little" Jacob

A Jamaican arms dealer living in Liberty City who is friends with the Russian Mafia. He is Alex's first ally in Liberty City and, although Alex doesn't know it, is also Niko’s arms dealer.

Minor Characters

 

Don Vladmir Fedorov

Head of the Russian Mafia; sends Alex to Liberty City to hunt down Niko Bellic.

 

Pavel Taras

Thought to be a close friend of the Russian Mafia, but betrays them; Alex’s first kill.

 

Leonid Bellic

Niko’s well-respected father, who worked for the Russian Mafia and was assassinated 3 years prior, causing Niko to betray the organization due to a misunderstanding.

 

Francis McReary

Crooked LCPD cop who learns about Niko’s past, and uses the information to blackmail Niko.

 

Fred McClain

FBI agent who takes Mr. Lenin into custody when he arrives with Alex in Liberty City.

 

Denise Roberts

Fred McClain’s loyal partner.

 

Eric Faustin

A friend of Sergei Lenin's, who owns a club in Broker and is one of Alex's first contacts in Liberty City.

 

 

Table of Contents

 

1: The Rendezvous

2: First Assignment

3: We Need Men Like You

4: Welcome to Liberty City

5: Survival

6: "Little" Jacob

7: Adapting to America

 

 

 

The Russian

 

Chapter 1: The Rendezvous

 

St. Petersburg, Russia: January 21st, 2008. 2:43 P.M.

 

27 year-old Alexsandr Barkov tightly clenched his thick leather jacket and held it against his chest as he patiently waited outside of the St. Petersburg Museum, where he had agreed to meet with Mr. Sergei Lenin.

 

Alex watched his cold breath steam outward and evaporate into the chilling air as he filled his lungs with the harsh winter climate and slowly exhaled. He glanced across the street at the hordes of afternoon pedestrians, who paced along the frozen sidewalk, many of them anxious to be in the warm indoors.

 

The pedestrians around him did the same, although many of them rejected to walk anywhere near Alex. His thick facial stubble, shaved head, and light, muscular skin tone let off a peculiar, somewhat dangerous aura about him. Just one look at his gritty, urban appearance and one would be able to draw several accurate conclusions about him, including the fact that he was involved in organized Russian crime.

 

Several cars breezed by, thrusting a bitter wind current towards a freezing Alex. However, he showed no indication of weakness, not even the slightest grinding of teeth or movement of his body.

 

Alex glared at a man from the corner of his eye who was fast approaching. Unlike the others, this man didn’t seem to mind Alex’s presence, as he walked directly up to him.

 

“Hello, Alexsandr,” the man said in a thick Russian accent. His low voice droned and hovered above the air.

Alex hesitated to make eye contact with him as he could already tell that the man seemed to be nearly twice his size. But Alex had met him on several occasions before; he knew who he was.

 

“Hello, Mr. Lenin.” Alex responded.

 

Sergei, who looked to be about 280 lbs, lightly tossed the cigarette which he had previously been smoking onto the ground and reached into his trench coat pocket to return with a pair of black leather gloves. Alex watched him slide each finger into its respective hole as Sergei tightened the grip of each fist.

 

Mr. Lenin wore an exquisite fedora hat, which covered his slicked, grey head. His clean-shaven face revealed each 50 year-old wrinkle which drooped below his dark, arrogant eyes. Beneath his trench coat was a black suit and tie, as always, and his oxfords shined with beauty on the icy ground.

 

“Let’s walk,” Sergei announced as the two men casually began to stroll along the busy street, “this is how it’s going to happen.” Alex watched the several snowflakes gliding to the ground as he closely listened to Mr. Lenin.

 

“Mr. Taras will be picking us up over there,” Sergei continued as he pointed to an isolated, snowy park not far down the road. “When it’s the right time, you’re going to take him out.”

 

Alex confusingly looked at the man, and back down at the ground. “How will I know when it’s time?”

 

Sergei chuckled briefly, which quickly transformed into a small, coughing fit. “Trust me, you’ll know.”

 

When the two men approached a light pole on the corner of the street, Mr. Lenin suspiciously glanced around and reached into his trench coat once again. This time, he unveiled a crisp, beautiful .357 stub-nose magnum revolver. After temporarily admiring the superb silver barrel, he handed the weapon over to Alex. “You ever handled a loaded gun before?”

 

Alexsandr nodded. “I know what I’m doing.” He quickly concealed the weapon inside his jacket.

Edited January 8, 2008 by Vercetti21

[Vercetti21]

Sorry for the double post, I'd like to keep all chapters organized by post for the table of contents.

 

Chapter 2: First Assignment

 

It wasn’t long before Mr. Pavel Taras approached the curb in his blue sedan (which played loud, obnoxious Eastern European dance music), where Sergei and Alex were standing. Mr. Lenin nodded at the car and opened the passenger door as Alex entered the back seat.

 

Alex could tell from the man’s posture that Pavel was extremely short. Unlike Mr. Lenin, he wore casual clothes, which consisted of a cheap sweater and beret cap.

Alex watched the man turn the volume knob to the left, causing the annoying music to fade out, as he turned from his seat to stare at Alex.

 

“Who the f*ck is this guy?” Pavel rudely snarled.

 

Before Alex was able to snap back, Mr. Lenin came to his defense. “He’s new. It was the Don’s personal orders that we bring him along,” Sergei lied, “to help conduct our family business. Now would you just f*cking drive?”

 

Pavel shook his head in ignorance, put the car in gear, and drove out onto the road. “Alright, so where’s this deal going down?”

 

“Not far out of town, by the cemetery,” Mr. Lenin replied.

 

Behind the two men, Alex smiled a little at the irony of the situation. There would be no deal going down, but instead, a murder. He found it amusing that the young Pavel was blissfully unaware of their true intents.

 

Along the trip, Alex was deep in thought about what Mr. Lenin had lied about earlier. The truth was that Alex hadn’t even met the Don, much less wasn’t sure if he had even known of his existence. Alex knew that the Russian Mafia was an immense organization, with branches in several different areas of the world. He doubted that the Don had the time to keep track of new recruits like him.

 

Just outside of St. Petersburg Russia: January 21st, 2008. 3:31 P.M.

 

Alex saw the cemetery in the distance, deep in the snowy forest in which the deserted road disappeared into a field of gravestones. As he readied himself for anything, he felt a numb sensation overcome him; not of fear, but of regret.

 

He had lied to Mr. Lenin earlier when he said he had used a gun before, as he did not want to appear ignorant. Sure, he had committed plenty of minor crimes before. Theft, smuggling, drug dealing, but never homicide. Before this, he had never even considered murder, but he knew it was a requirement if he wanted to truly impress his new friend, Mr. Lenin, and of course, the Don.

 

The car pulled to the side of the road and parked near the open, iron gates of the cemetery. “We’re a little early,” Sergei assured Pavel, “We’ll just wait till they get here.”

 

It was quiet for a moment, aside from Pavel’s annoying dance music which continued to play on a low volume. “I’m going to take a piss,” Mr. Lenin added, “Pavel, keep an eye on my good friend, huh?”

 

He patted Pavel on the shoulder, winked at Alex, and exited the car. For the quick moment the door was open, an arctic breeze gusted through the interior of the vehicle.

 

Alex watched Pavel grab from the glove box a pornographic magazine and begin to flip through the pages of beautiful, naked women while they waited. “It’s f*cking cold outside,” Pavel commented.

 

Ignoring Pavel’s obvious comment, several thoughts quickly rushed through Alex’s mind. This is my chance, he thought to himself. Slowly, he reached into his jacket, feeling the ornate handle of the revolver at his fingertips.

 

Pavel, who seemed extremely interested in the young, nude brunette on page 7, grunted and giggled. “Check out the tits on her,” he smiled, “sh*t, I need a girl.”

 

Alex pulled the hammer of the revolver back until it clicked into position. Not surprisingly, the noise didn’t seem to attract Pavel’s attention. Slowly, he raised the stub-nose out of his leather jacket and put it to the back of Pavel’s head.

 

Feeling the powerful recoil of the magnum, Alex’s ears began to ring after the piercing gunshot echoed from inside the car, and a small trail of smoke arose from the barrel of the weapon.

 

Pavel was plumped over onto the steering wheel, cold and silent. There was a hole in the back of his head, blood quickly oozing out. Alex remained speechless, heart pounding intensely in his chest.

 

Soon thereafter, Mr. Lenin casually walked up to the driver’s side of the car from behind. He opened the door and inspected the bloody remains of the now deceased Mr. Pavel Taras. His eyes followed from the back of Pavel’s head, or lack thereof, to the bloody pornographic magazine, and to the crimson-stained windshield.

 

“The bastard,” Mr. Lenin insulted, “no one betrays us and gets away with it.” He stared in silence, and smiled. “I warned him to keep an eye on you.”

 

“Come on,” he commanded as he opened the back door for Alex. Alex slowly and silently stepped out of the vehicle, but showed no signs of weakness. He did not tremble, and certainly did not sweat.

 

Sergei handed him a handkerchief. “Wipe your fingerprints, and leave the gun.” Alex did as he was told.

 

Mr. Lenin outstretched his hand to Alex, and Alex shook it. “Congratulations, kid. You’re now an official associate to the Russian Mafia. I know you’re a bit shaken up, but I’ve got a car waiting for us just on the other side of the cemetery, and we need to get out of here before somebody else comes by,” Mr. Lenin advised.

 

As the two men abandoned the bloody scene and disappeared into the fog of the winter cemetery, a cold and chilling wind swept through the vast emptiness of the forsaken graves of the dead.

------

 

(Author's note: I know this is similar to a scene from the Godfather, it was meant to be that way. Please don't hold that against me. Also, for sh*ts and giggles, the name "Pavel Taras" is irony in itself, "Pavel" meaning short, and "Taras" meaning rebel. )

Edited November 22, 2007 by Vercetti21

[Oblivionz]

Good read. Keep the story going, I enjoyed it.

[silviodante]

Hey Vercetti,

First I'd like to say that this is a very good story and that I would like to see more chapters in the future. Second, I can't wait to see what your writing will be like in FTS 3. And finally, I noticed it was just like the "Leave the gun, bring the Canolli" scene from the Godfather, before i finished "The Russian". But, I liked how you admitted that it was like the scene I mentioned before. Overall, this was a great story and I can't wait for more.

[VCHolmes]

Nice read. You seem to have a sharp eye for detail. Can't wait to read the rest of it.

[poikly]

Sorry for being off-topic, but how is Bluenothing65 reading this topic, if he is banned?

[VCHolmes]

 

Sorry for being off-topic, but how is Bluenothing65 reading this topic, if he is banned?

Banned members can read topics, but they cannot post.

[poikly]

Oh, thanks.

[Vercetti21]

I've been busy the past few days, but I have no plans to discontinue writing the story. It isn't as popular as I had originally hoped, but I'll write a few more chapters soon, to see how it goes from there.

 

Thanks for all the comments you guys, keep em' coming.

[Vercetti21]

Chapter 3: We Need Men Like You

 

Alexsandr’s apartment. St. Petersburg, Russia: January 25th, 2008. 9:07 A.M.

 

Alexsandr progressively awoke in a daze. As he slowly regained consciousness, he noticed the shadow of a man sitting quietly in a chair in the darkest corner of the room.

 

Alex sat up in bed and called to the man. “Who’s there?”

 

The man’s hand reached towards his face, holding a cigarette. Moment’s later, the hand stretched away and rested against the armrest, and a cloud of smoke emerged from his open mouth.

 

Without hesitation, Alex quickly reached underneath his pillow and grabbed his 8mm Glock.

 

“Relax. Put the gun down, it’s just me,” Mr. Lenin’s voice beckoned.

 

Alex wiped the sweat from his forehead and laid back in the bed. “How long have you been there?”

 

“Long enough,” answered Sergei as he stood from the chair, walked over to the window, and thrust open the curtains to observe the urban winter scene outside. Sunlight quickly flooded the room. “You should really learn to be an early riser; it might save your life, eh?”

 

Alex got out of bed and walked over to the dresser. “How did you get in?”

 

“The front door, kid. You’ll need more than a lock to keep me out.”

 

Alex unfolded a long-sleeved shirt, raised it over his head, and let it slide over his bare chest. He reached down to the ground, picked up one of the several pairs of pants sprawled out over the floor, and slid each leg into place before buckling it at his waist. His pale, unshaven face showed that he was still half-asleep, and extremely hung over.

 

“Grab something to eat and let’s go,” Sergei commanded as he walked towards the front door.

 

“Go?” Alex stopped him as Sergei grabbed the door knob, “go where?”

Sergei smiled. “To the mansion. The Don would like to speak with you.”

 

After a quick shave and finishing off a half-eaten granola bar for breakfast, Alex stepped outside into the cold and wrapped his warm leather jacket around him. Mr. Lenin had already been waiting in the car while Alex was getting ready, and didn’t seem to notice Alex when he approached the car.

 

Alex opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat, where the soothing heater welcomed his already freezing body.

 

“So, what’s this about?” Alex asked as he put the car into gear and drove away from the curb.

 

Mr. Lenin was quiet for a moment before answering. “You should be honored that Don Federov has a job for you, Alexsandr. After all, you’re only an associate.”

 

Alex turned at the corner and drove the car down the street several blocks. “Well, I am honored. But why me?”

 

“I don’t know all the details, kid. The Don has been keeping an eye on new recruits lately. Don’t worry, I put in a good word for you. But whatever the reason may be, you should be honored.”

 

The Don’s mansion. St. Petersburg, Russia. January 25th, 2008. 9:29 A.M.

 

“We’re here to see Don Federov,” Mr. Lenin announced to the man at the front gate. The man nodded, and let the car pass. Alex slowly cruised down the cobblestone driveway and parked towards the back.

 

“Unless he asks you something personally, you let me do the talking,” Sergei declared as they approached the side door of the house and stepped inside the magnificent castle.

 

“Ah, Mr. Lenin, I’ve been expecting you,” an old voice called from down the corridor. “Please, come in.”

 

Sergei removed his hat and heavy coat and formally hung them on the hanger by the door, while instructing Alex to do the same. Both men walked towards the back office to meet with the Don.

 

Don Vladmir Federov looked to be about in his mid-sixties, and his darkish-grey hair protruded forward into a widow’s peak over his tyrannical, blue eyes. He was a handsome man for his age, and his appearance reflected his mysterious personality.

 

The Don shook both men’s hands as Sergei introduced Don Federov to Alex, and vice-versa.

 

“Alexsandr,” the Don smiled, “I’ve heard good things about you from Mr. Lenin here. You have a very promising future in this business of ours.”

 

Alex returned the smile and shrugged his shoulders. “I’d like to think so.”

 

“Have a seat, both of you,” the Don generously offered as he walked back to his desk. “Tell me, Alexsandr, do you have a wife?”

 

“Sir?” Alex confusingly inquired.

 

Alex caught Sergei giving him a brief dirty look just before the Don turned away from the window and back at the two men, his smile now faded into a solemn look. “I’m a generous man, but I generally don’t like to repeat myself unless necessary.”

 

Alex looked down at the ground as the Don rhetorically asked, “Is it necessary?”

 

“No sir,” Alex shamefully muttered, “It is the code of the thieves not to have a family, that is, besides a lover.”

 

The Don laughed a little, and the smile returned to his face. “A wise code,” the Don credited, “I consider myself to be a family man, but sometimes family can also be a man’s greatest weakness.”

 

Alex nodded as he listened.

 

“But you are not a mere thief anymore, Alexsandr. Mr. Lenin has told me that you have great potential to be more than that. That is why I have called you here today.”

 

Don Federov reached for a near-empty glass of water on his desk and slowly sipped it down as he spoke, “We need men like you, Alexsandr, in this organization. Moreover, we need to reestablish our contacts in Liberty City, and we need men like you to do it.”

 

The Don inhaled, and wheezed slightly before sitting in his chair and glaring from Sergei to Alex. “Have you ever been to Liberty City, Mr. Barkov?”

 

“No sir,” Alex replied, “I have never even been to America.”

 

“We believe there is a man there named Nikolai Bellic. At one time, he was deeply involved in this organization, and I was a close friend to his late father.”

 

Alex nodded again, wondering what this man had to do with him.

 

“But after Mr. Bellic’s father passed, he has been a terrorist to all of us. He blamed us for his father’s murder, and ever since, he has been on the run, searching for the man who killed his father.”

 

Mr. Lenin turned from his seat to look at Alex. “He thinks it’s one of us,” he added, “someone working for the Russian Mafia. The truth is, we don’t know who did it.”

 

The Don nodded in agreement. “He betrayed us when he heard the news of his father’s death. He doesn’t know we’ve been tracking him all these years, and even though I’ve sent man after man to kill him, it just doesn’t stop Nikolai Bellic.”

 

Don Federov finished what was left in his water glass in one small swig, cleared his throat, and continued. “But Nikolai must be stopped before more lives are lost. That is why I would like to send you, Alexsandr. You’re the man for the job.”

 

Mr. Lenin’s eyes bulged, and he stood from his chair in a nervous manner. “Don Federov! With all due respect, Alexsandr here is just an associate. He’s only recently been recruited.”

 

“Exactly,” the Don replied, “which is exactly what we want. Nikolai knows this organization inside and out. If we send someone new, a face he doesn’t know, Nikolai will know no difference between an imposter and an associate.”

 

“What makes you think he’s in Liberty City?” Alex questioned.

 

The Don sat quietly for a moment, stood up, and straightened his tie. “Follow me.”

 

The trio moved from the office, down the hall, and into the living area. A fire was blazing in the furnace, and on the opposite wall was a TV. The Don picked up the remote control, pressed one of the buttons, and watched the television quickly awaken.

 

“When we intercepted this from an American news channel a few days ago, we were sure to quickly record it,” the Don informed them as he placed a blank tape inside the VHS player.

Alex and Sergei watched as they sat quietly on the couch.

 

“In other news,” the anchorman on television blared, “Attorney Thomas Goldberg was murdered today at his offices in Algonquin, along with his secretary, Karen Fikes. The shooter has been identified as Nikolai Bellic, believed to be an illegal immigrant from Russia.”

 

A photograph of Niko flashed onto the screen as the anchorman continued. “Witnesses say Mr. Bellic came to the law firm for an employment interview, but instead fired two shots into Mr. Goldberg’s chest, causing him to fall backwards out of the window, and twelve stories below.”

 

“Six other security officers were killed by the gunfight which ensued, and twelve other officers were severely wounded. Mr. Bellic is believed to have escaped on foot while several police officers were called to patrol the area.”

 

“Funeral services for Mr. Goldberg, who had strong opinions and filed several lawsuits against violence in video games, will be held on Sunday at St. Mark’s Cathedral.”

 

The Don switched off the television and looked at both Alex and Mr. Lenin. “Now you see why this man must be stopped,” he added.

 

Mr. Lenin clasped his hands and spoke indirectly to Alex, “He was a threat to us, and now he’s a threat to innocent lives as well.”

 

The Don stared back at Alex. “We will no longer allow him to be a threat to us. Go to Liberty City, track Nikolai down, and kill him. Keep a low profile, we don’t want to attract any unnecessary attention, and don’t be afraid to get close and personal with Nikolai. He won’t know who you are.”

 

Mr. Lenin stood again, and shook the Don’s hand. “Don Federov, I ask that you grant me permission to assist Alexsandr in this duty. He is still learning.”

 

The Don nodded. “Alright. But make sure he does not see the both of you together. He knows who you are, Mr. Lenin.”

 

Alex also shook the Don’s hand and thanked him, and both Alex and Sergei proceeded towards the exit. When they reached the side door, one of the guards was waiting for them. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a cell phone, which he handed to Alex.

 

“We’ll use this to stay in touch,” the guard said, “and if you come back alive, the phone is yours to keep.”

Edited October 7, 2007 by Vercetti21

[Vercetti21]

Oops! I'm so sorry! I accidentally hit the "reply" instead of the edit button.

 

EDIT: Now that I think about it, I'll use the bump to my advantage. Chapter 3 is up, and I edited the first post to make it look prettier, as well as adding a plot synopsis.

 

How am I doing, guys? Is anyone following and enjoying the story, or is it not worth my effort and time to continue?

 

Thanks.

Edited October 7, 2007 by Vercetti21

[VCHolmes]

References to GTA IV and FTS? That's cool, I'm reading and following the story. Write more whenever you have the time. Excellent writing.

Edited October 8, 2007 by VCHolmes

[Oblivionz]

Excellent, as the first two chapters were as well.

Keep updating, please.

The reference to GTA IV peaked my interest even more.

[Vercetti21]

Chapter 4: Welcome to Liberty City

 

Just off the coast of Liberty City, America: February 1st, 2008. 8:16 A.M.

 

“We will be arriving at our destination shortly,” the flight attendant announced over the intercom, just as the seatbelt icon flashed overhead.

 

Alexsandr Barkov and Sergei Lenin were sitting next to each other on the plane, and quickly regained focus when the announcement was made. They had taken the red eye flight from St. Petersburg to Liberty City overnight, and while Alexsandr had been sleeping, Mr. Lenin had been fumbling around in his seat restlessly.

 

Mr. Lenin looked up from the magazine he had been reading, glanced at his exquisite, gold watch, and looked over at Alex. “Ten hours without sleep, and without a cigarette,” he complained, “I have to get off this plane.”

 

Alex sat up in his seat, yawned, and rubbed his eyes before staring out the window. “Are we almost there?”

 

“You can see the airport in the distance there,” Mr. Lenin pointed. The two men watched the small dot on the horizon begin to expand slowly. “Cigarettes,” he added, smiling profusely.

 

Alex pondered for a moment as he watched the coast in the distance slowly crawling towards them. He turned from the window to look at Sergei as he said quietly, “Niko.” Mr. Lenin returned the glare as Alex added, “Did you know him?”

 

Sergei sighed, scratching the rough side of his face as he spoke. “I was a good friend of his father, at one time. Nikolai was just a boy back then.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“Well,” he continued, “One day he found out about his father’s business with us, and rather than trying to hide it from him, Leonid introduced it to him. And so, Niko grew up within our organization, closely following in his father’s footsteps.”

 

“Leonid?”

 

“Nikolai’s father,” Sergei explained.

 

Alex stared back out the window at Liberty City, which began to liven as it grew closer. Both men felt the plane beginning to descend slowly, as the layers of clouds outside began to thin out and the city became clearer.

 

“What about the murder?” Alex questioned, “What exactly happened?”

 

Sergei sighed again before answering, “Despite the fact the Leonid Bellic was a highly-respected man within our organization, he had a lot of enemies as well.”

 

“Within the Russian Mafia?”

 

“Both inside and out,” Sergei answered. “Anyway, one day Leonid was involved in a car accident, which we believe was intentional: an assassination attempt. Luckily, he survived.”

 

Sergei noticed the confused look on Alex’s face, and elaborated on the story. “He was on his way to a meeting. His limousine driver that day was an imposter; a hitman if you will, from another organization. The assassin ditched the car, leaving Leonid inside to burn to his death.”

 

Alex nodded as he listened, imagining the horrific incident.

 

“Amazingly,” Mr. Lenin continued, “Leonid was barely rescued, but while in recovery at the hospital a few days later, the assassin was able to disguise himself as a doctor, and inject him with a lethal substance.”

 

“So Niko believed the assassin worked for the Russian Mafia?”

 

“Precisely. When he was told of the incident, he became barbaric. He killed men working for our organization left and right, and fled across the country in search for his father’s assassin. For the past three years, we’ve been tracking him the best we can; the Don has sent men to kill him, but he’s nearly impossible to be stopped.”

 

Sergei glared at Alex with his commanding, brown eyes. “It is a relief that we now know of his whereabouts, but it is unknown of his business in Liberty City. We can expect that it will be difficult to track him down, seeing as how he is now a fugitive.”

 

Alex stared forward to the seat in front of him with a look of disgust. “However long it takes,” he muttered, “I will find this man, and I will kill him.”

 

Liberty City International Airport. Liberty City, America: February 1st, 2008. 8:27 A.M.

 

“Thank you for flying Atlantic Airlines,” the pilot smiled as Alexsandr and Sergei exited the plane with their small load of belongings.

 

The two men walked into the welcoming crowds of the immense airport and quickly searched for an exit, as Mr. Lenin was still anxious for a cigarette. Alex noticed two other people, dressed formally, stand from the small waiting area and approach Mr. Lenin.

 

One of them was a tall, African-American man, and stood firm with great posture and a solemn face as he straightened his black tie.

 

“Sergei Lenin?” he questioned as he flashed his golden badge at Sergei and Alex, “I’m Agent Fred McClain, FBI. This is my partner, Denise Roberts,” he indicated to his attractive, female sidekick, who wore her silky, brunette hair in a ponytail and pressed her thin lips together, slightly stretching her tan, Caucasian skin.

 

“We’re taking you downtown,” Agent McClain declared as Denise quickly hand-cuffed Mr. Lenin from behind, “we’ve got some questions for you.”

 

“Sh*t!” Sergei slowly muttered to Alex as the slight clicking sound of the handcuffs echoed within the small, open area adjacent to the main hall of the airport, which was extremely overcrowded with pedestrians.

 

Neither agent seemed to acknowledge Alex’s presence as they began to escort Mr. Lenin out of the area. Sergei glanced over his shoulder at Alex, who stood immobile and speechless. “Don’t worry about me, kid,” he assured, “just get the job done.”

 

Agent Roberts turned from Mr. Lenin and also focused on Alex. “Sorry about your friend,” she said with a sinister smile. Before turning around and following Agent McClain and Mr. Lenin, she glared Alex directly in the eye. “Welcome to Liberty City.”

Edited January 8, 2008 by Vercetti21

[John-]

Please add a post and account deletion procedure!

http://www.accountkiller.com/removal-requested

You, as a webmaster or administrator, may have arrived here through an account information page on the site you're coming from. It seems the user tried to delete his/her account, however found this to be impossible. Therefore the user scrambled his/her personal data and referred to this page, requesting the site to create an account deletion option, preferably by completely deleting all personal data from the database.

More and more people are concerned about online privacy. Therefore we encourage online services to create an account deletion option, hopefully transparent and easily executed by the user. By anonimising personal data, retained data is rendered inadequate for (commercial) use. As more people use such measures, the urge for deletion options becomes stronger.

Besides, your site may be labelled white instead of black in the listings of AccountKiller. This provides more trust to users even considering the creation of an account at your site.

For further reference, also read the FAQ on AccountKiller.

Edited December 29, 2013 by Lance_Ryder

[silviodante]

I am amazed once again V. Can't wait for more.

[Stefan.]

Man, this is great. Plus, seeing that I am a Slav, I can relate to this more than an Italian Mafia story.

 

Keep it coming man! By the way, I'm always here for advice, but I'm sure you won't need it.

[Vercetti21]

Thanks for the feedback guys.

 

Just wanted to give you all the heads up: I'm going out of town this weekend and won't be able to update the story. Because the site was down last week, I kind of put off writing for a bit. I'm about halfway through chapter 5 and it's coming a long very nice, so just sit tight for the next few days.

 

In the meantime, what do you think will happen next in the story? Discuss your thoughts and opinions, whoever comes closest gets a .

 

Again, thanks for the support.

[Stefan.]

Well, me, I think Alexandr will try and start living in Liberty, while looking for Niko, yet trying deperately to earn the money to get Mr. Lenin out of the joint by doing petty crimes.

[Vercetti21]

Sorry for no updates for awhile everyone. I've been busy with everything and I still have a full plate but when I get to it I will proceed with the story, hopefully within the next week or two.

 

Thanks again for the support.

[Stefan.]

No worries mate. Don't worry, I have this bookmarked, so I'll know when you've updated it. Everything's going great.

[Vercetti21]

Chapter 5: Survival

 

“What do you mean they took Mr. Lenin?” Rafael, one of Don Federov’s noble henchmen beckoned on the other end of the phone.

 

“There were two of them,” Alex answered, “two FBI agents. Apparently they had been waiting for us before the plane even landed.”

 

“Impossible,” Rafael sighed, “Mr. Lenin has a criminal history here in Russia. He would not have been able to board a flight without forging a passport, and he’s smart enough to know that.”

 

“Well, somehow, someone found out. And now I’m here in the airport with no place to go.”

“Hold on,” Rafael assured him, “let me get the Don for you.”

 

In the background, Alex listened to a quick conversation between Rafael and Don Federov.

“It’s Alexsandr, the associate. Apparently Mr. Lenin has gotten himself into some trouble.”

 

“Hello?” the Don finally answered.

Alex quickly explained the situation again.

“Alright, calm down. Where are they taking him?”

“I don’t know,” Alex distressed, “downtown? They said they were taking him downtown.”

“They’re taking him to headquarters,” the Don explained, “’downtown’ is American slang. This is not good.”

“What should I do?”

The Don thought for a moment. “How much money do you have on you?”

 

Alex patted around his pockets, knowing he had nothing. “Mr. Lenin had all of our money,” Alex explained, “and they seized his belongings. We were going to convert it to American currency first thing.”

 

“sh*t!” the Don exclaimed. The conversation was silent for a moment.

 

“Alright Alexsandr, listen to me. I have an old bank account in America, which I privately opened for my past visits to Liberty City. There’s nothing there right now, but if I transfer money into the account, you have to go retrieve it for me.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Just any ATM machine. The problem is, the transfer will take about 24 hours to clear. Do you think you can survive on your own for a day?”

 

Alex remembered his younger days, back when he was just a small-time criminal in Moscow living off of unknowing strangers’ pockets. His dexterity had become top-notch from all his years of pick-pocketing and burglary.

 

“Yes,” Alex replied, “I will be fine.”

“Alright,” the Don agreed, “with Mr. Lenin in custody it looks like you’re going to be there for awhile. You’ll need money for a place to stay, some food, and general transportation. Oh, and guns. I think two grand will be enough to get you started.”

 

“Guns? Where am I going to find guns?”

 

“We have connections with an arms dealer named Jacob there. You’re going to have to get a hold of him before you can focus on Nikolai. Now look Alexsandr, I’m going to send $2000 to the account, but since you don’t have a card, you’re going to need the account number and password.”

 

The two quickly exchanged information, along with the account details, which Alex scribbled down on his palm, and Jacob’s phone number.

 

“By the way, don’t ever call this number again, Alexsandr,” the Don warned, “for security issues, you understand. We’ll contact you within a matter of days to see how you are doing. Good luck.”

 

Before Alex could say anything, he was interrupted by a dial tone, quickly ending the conversation. Alex shrugged, and concealed the phone in his pocket.

 

Along with the phone, Alex had a small pocket-knife which he had been able to smuggle past security. It was his only means of defense for now, and a few changes of clothes and an extra jacket hid quietly inside the duffle bag beside him.

 

His goal had been set: find Mr. Lenin, and survive for 24 hours. Alex had confidence in himself, but his main concern was finding a way to pass the time.

 

Alex flipped to his contacts in his phone, and added Jacob in the address book. Once the name and number saved to his phone, he pressed “Send” and held the phone to his ear.

 

The phone rang. Another ring. Finally, the phone clicked on. “Jacob,” answered a deep, Jamaican voice on the other end of the line.

 

“My name is Alexsandr,” answered Alex as he glanced around suspiciously, “I hear you’re the man to talk to about getting some firepower.”

 

“I usually don’t do business with strangers. You a cop?”

“No. Don Federov sent me.”

“Ah, I thought I knew that accent from somewhere. Where are you right now?”

“I’m at the airport.”

“Tell you what. Meet me on the west side of Broker, near the bridge. There’s a back alley there where we can discuss this in person. What exactly is it you’re looking for?”

“Anything. But I have a bit of a financial problem.”

“You think I just loan these things out to people?”

“No, but I expect you’re a man wanting to earn some kind of profit. I can pay double what I owe you tomorrow, if you’re willing to do business with me today.”

It was quiet for a moment as Jacob considered the offer.

“Make it triple, and you’ve got a deal.”

“Done.”

“Find the [email protected] Café in Broker. I’ll be waiting in the alley behind it.”

“See you in a few minutes.”

 

The phone went silent.

 

Alex picked up his bags, proceeded towards the exit and stepped outside to hail a cab.

 

“Maybe things will be alright,” Alex thought to himself, “maybe I can survive.”

 

------

 

I guess it was about time for an update. Sorry again to keep everyone waiting. I know it's not much, but I'll try my best to get out a new chapter again within a few days.

Edited November 22, 2007 by Vercetti21

[Stefan.]

Don't worry, it's pretty good. Keeps the story going.

[Oblivionz]

Great story, keep posting it, man.

[Vercetti21]

Just a heads-up for everyone: "The Russian" is going to be taking a little break for awhile. I'm not discontinuing it, but I have a busy schedule as it is and I'd like to focus a little more on my other project, "Viva Las Vegas".

 

Also, I want to allow time for news and updates to be released for GTA IV, so I can have more to write about. It seems that with the lack of news for the game I've become unmotivated to write this, but with a new trailer just around the corner (and hopefully more stuff after that) you should expect to see more from me on this project later.

[Stefan.]

Again, no worries there. I'm pretty busy aswell: see you soon!

[discovery97]

Now I don't want to annoy you but Niko Bellic IS NOT RUSSIAN! He is a middle-east immigrant brought illegally into New York (which in the game is Liberty City) from his brother.

[Oblivionz]

 

Now I don't want to annoy you but Niko Bellic IS NOT RUSSIAN! He is a middle-east immigrant brought illegally into New York (which in the game is Liberty City) from his brother.

And I don't want to annoy you, but now it's widely believed he's Russian because he spoke Russian a few times in the latest trailer, and Roman is his cousin, not his brother.

[Vercetti21]

It doesn't matter what he is. I personally have always believed he is Russian, but this is my perspective of the story. Let me tell it my way.

[discovery97]

Now I don't want to annoy you but Niko Bellic IS NOT RUSSIAN! He is a middle-east immigrant brought illegally into New York (which in the game is Liberty City) from his brother.

And I don't want to annoy you, but now it's widely believed he's Russian because he spoke Russian a few times in the latest trailer, and Roman is his cousin, not his brother.

GTA SAID IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOSH.