The Russian

[discovery97]

Plus, who knows if it is russian. Could be whatever the language the middle east spea....... oh for heck you know what I'm gonna say. AND DON'T REPLY!!!!

[Vercetti21]

First of all, Russia is not in the Middle East. Secondly, all we know is that he is Eastern European. With that information, combined with the fact that he has a Russian accent and speaks Russian in the trailer, it's pretty obvious. Also, the not-so-friendly guys who caught Roman said, "Where is your Russian friend now?"

 

I'm 99.9% sure he's Russian. But like I said, it doesn't really matter.

[discovery97]

First of all, Russia is not in the Middle East. Secondly, all we know is that he is Eastern European. With that information, combined with the fact that he has a Russian accent and speaks Russian in the trailer, it's pretty obvious. Also, the not-so-friendly guys who caught Roman said, "Where is your Russian friend now?"

 

I'm 99.9% sure he's Russian. But like I said, it doesn't really matter.

You know maybe your right. I don't know where you got this "where's your russian cousin" and also I know where Russia is I may be eleven unlike these other forum useres but I'm not dumb . So you may be right but I feel like I want to prove you wrong and that your crazy, but thats just in my head and I can't always trust it.

[silviodante]

 

You know maybe your right. I don't know where you got this "where's your russian cousin" and also I know where Russia is I may be eleven unlike these other forum useres but I'm not dumb . So you may be right but I feel like I want to prove you wrong and that your crazy, but thats just in my head and I can't always trust it.

Hey Homie, no one is saying that you are dumb, which is why you should really calm down. This story was written and opinion-based off of another person. No matter what you think, you still have to accept someone's opinion.

 

Side Note: I have had that feeling "I need to prove this dude wrong" before, but just accept it Vercetti's story and walk away - or in your case, stop posting.

 

@Vercetti21: I can believe Niko is from Russia because of all of the facts presented, but since I don't know much of Russia and it's language, I can't put all of my belief on Russia. It's a shame that you won't continue on this story.

[Vercetti21]

@Vercetti21: I can believe Niko is from Russia because of all of the facts presented, but since I don't know much of Russia and it's language, I can't put all of my belief on Russia. It's a shame that you won't continue on this story.

I don't know much about Russia, either, but a few Russian-speaking people confirmed it to say "Hello, friend" or something like that.

 

And technically, it's not official yet about whether or not I'll continue this. It probably won't happen, but for now it's just on pause.

[discovery97]

@Vercetti21: I can believe Niko is from Russia because of all of the facts presented, but since I don't know much of Russia and it's language, I can't put all of my belief on Russia. It's a shame that you won't continue on this story.

I don't know much about Russia, either, but a few Russian-speaking people confirmed it to say "Hello, friend" or something like that.

 

And technically, it's not official yet about whether or not I'll continue this. It probably won't happen, but for now it's just on pause.

You should continue the story, frankly because it doesn't sound like it would be the end. In fact I would put like 12 chapters in the story if I were you. I know it sounds wrong and yes this is your story and you do it your way........ hope it din't annoy you.

[protein]

please, continue. it's one hell of a story. i read all of it and i love it. you really now how to write. and should you choose not to continue the story it'll be a shame. really.

[Vercetti21]

I guess I'll go ahead and write a new chapter for now.

 

But I'm curious, if I do continue this, who will be following?

Edited January 8, 2008 by Vercetti21

[Vercetti21]

Chapter 6: "Little" Jacob

 

Broker. Liberty City, America: February 1st, 2008. 9:01 A.M.

 

Alexsandr clenched the door handle tightly as the taxi pulled up outside of the [email protected] Cafe.

 

"That'll be $18.50," the cab driver sneered, turning around in his seat to look at Alex.

 

Alex pretended to flip through his leather wallet for money, staring at the empty space inside. He saw that the driver was beginning to become impatient. Alex didn't know what to do now besides stall, but what exactly was he stalling for?

 

The driver cautiosly watched a group of black teenagers approaching the vehicle. One of the boys pulled a switchblade and rested it against the window, pointing it at the driver. "Say dawg, open up!" he threatened on the other side of the glass.

 

The driver carelessly rolled down the window. "Get away from my cab, ya dumb kids!" he insulted in his strong, Broker accent.

 

Alex watched the incident from the back seat, shaken at the tension between the cab driver and the thugs. He knew this was his chance to escape. He didn't have any money to pay for the fare, but the driver was distracted enough for Alex to be able to get away.

 

One of the boys opened the door and yanked the driver out of the car, throwing him onto the ground. They didn't seem to notice Alex in the back seat as they climbed on top of the downed cabbie and began pummeling him with a meteor shower of fists. "Gimme yo money!"

 

Alex slowly and cautiously opened the back door on the other side of the cab and slipped away from the violent beating. He had been in America for a little over half an hour and had already witnessed a crime. Maybe this job was more than he had originally bargained for.

 

Walking around the building into the narrow back alley, Alex noticed a blood-red convertible waiting for him, slowly being covered in snow flurries beneath the overcast, morning sky. A dark man was sitting in the driver's seat smoking a blunt, and exited the vehicle as Alex approached the car.

 

"You the Russian?" the man asked as he pulled his beanie off of his head, revealing his neatly-aligned cornrows.

 

"Alex," Alexsandr confimed in his Eastern-European accent.

 

"Lil' Jacob," the man introduced himself. "What exactly you looking for?"

 

Alex was surprised at the man's nickname, as Jacob was not 'little' at all. He stood firm with a professional posture, glaring down at Alex through yellow-tinted sunglasses.

 

Alex watched Jacob's glimmering platinum earings as he spoke. "I need a handgun. Something light and concealable."

 

Jacob raised his eyebrows and waved his hand. "I have everything you need in the trunk."

 

Alex nodded again, staring at the deep scar across Jacob's brow. Judging from his gritty appearance, he knew Jacob meant business.

 

Alex followed Jacob to the back of the car, where Jacob unlocked and lifted the convertable's trunk, revealing piles of all kinds of weapons: pistols, assault rifles, miniguns, even hand grenades. Alex had never seen so many guns at one time, stacked in such a small space. "Jesus," he exclaimed, "where do you get this stuff?"

 

Jacob chuckled. "Friends in high places."

 

Alex watched him reach down into the pile and retrieve an 8mm, similar to the one Alex had back home in Russia.

 

"Here," Jacob said, unchambering the gun and handing it to Alex, "tell me how you like this."

 

Alex held the pistol firm, gripping it with power and aiming at a nearby dumpster. After inspecting it one last time, he handed it back to Jacob. "It's just what I'm looking for. How much?"

 

"Normally I sell handguns at 100 a piece, but our little deal raises it to 300."

 

Alex nodded. "And the ammunition?"

 

"I'll charge an extra 50 bucks for 5 clips. That's ten bucks a clip for you."

 

Alex thought for a moment before accepting the deal.

 

"Say," Jacob grunted as he loaded a full clip into the bottom of the weapon and handed it to Alex, "I've got a better deal for you. Instead of paying me tomorrow, I need a little help with this problem..."

 

Alex looked down at his newly aquired weapon, and back up at Jacob's scarred but confident face. "What is it?"

[poikly]

Hmm, its good.

[Love.Life]

this is very intense and is definetely something for me to keep my eye on

[Vercetti21]

Chapter 7: Adapting to America

 

Alexsandr glared at Jacob, who spoke in a low, deep voice.

 

"I got this friend," he began as he squinted, taking off his yellow glasses and casually pacing along the parked car in the alley, "she's in the drug business. Anyways, there's a deal going down on the south side of town with some not-so-friendly guys, and she's asked me to come along with her. You look like a man who means business, and considering Don Federov sent you, you seem pretty trustworthy. I could use some extra help, that is, if you want that gun for free."

 

Alex considered the new offer before nodding his head in agreement. "When?"

 

"In about half an hour, but I need to go ahead and meet up with her soon."

 

Alex sighed, scratching the thick stubble on the side of his face. Jacob interpreted the gesture as an impatient 'let's go', and moved around to the driver's side of the vehicle. "Get in."

 

Alex walked around to the other side of the car, opened the door, and seated himself into the leather interior of the convertible. "So," he began as Jacob revved the car to life and pulled out of the alley, "your friend; where are we meeting her?"

 

Jacob accelerated past a dumpster and turned the car onto the busy, adjacent street. "We're going to pick her up at her place in Bohan, then we got to drive to the docks back here in Broker."

 

Alex nodded again, attempting to avoid an awkward silence as his new acquaintance drove the convertible past several freezing pedestrians and oncoming cars and buses. Jacob turned onto another narrow road, and accelerated through the busy, trashed streets. Alex observed the majestic setting as they drove - the grey sky illuminating off of broken windows, hobos huddled around blazing trash cans, and several gangs loitering on the steps of different shops and businesses. This place was a dump.

 

But most of all, Alex wondered about his friend, Sergei Lenin, who had been arrested upon their arrival in Liberty City. Where was he now? And what were those federal agents questioning him about?

 

Just then Alexsandr's phone rang, attracting Jacob's attention. Alex glanced at the caller I.D., noticing that it was from an unknown number. Could it be the Don, contacting him from an untraceable phone? He held the phone to his ear.

 

"Alexsandr, it's good to hear your voice."

"Who is this?" Alex answered, noticing Jacob staring at him from the corner of his eye.

"It's Sergei. Those bastards have me at the station, and gave me one phone call. I obviously couldn't call back home to Russia, so you're the only person I can talk to right now."

"Mr. Lenin? Are you alright? Were you questioned?"

"I'm fine. I can't say much, but let's just say they found out about some of my history."

"You're criminal history back in Russia?"

"And in America. In the past I have posed as a - 'representative' - for our organization here in America, just as you are now. What else can I say? Someone ratted me out, and the government caught me."

"How did they know you were arriving at the airport today?"

"I'm not sure, but I think they've been spying on me somehow. I fear there is someone in our organization who is an impostor."

 

Alex's eyes bulged out, and his jaw dropped. But who? Who was spying on them?

 

"Alex, I have to go. I need you to relay everything I told you to the Don."

"I will, my friend. When do you think you will get out?"

"Whenever I give in to their interrogation, but that won't happen."

"Long time, huh?"

"At worst, I could be deported. If that's the case, you're going to be on your own in America. For now, you will have to adapt until I can get out. Can you do that for me, Alex?"

"Yes," Alex nodded.

 

"One more thing," Sergei quickly whispered, "there is someone you need to meet. He is one of our contacts in Liberty City, and I think he will be able to help you..."

"Who's the guy?"

"His name is Eric Faustin, and he's a good friend of mine. He owns a club in Broker called 'The Moonshine'. Find the place, and tell him I sent you."

"Alright."

"I have to go, Alexsandr, but good luck to you, my friend."

"And to you."

 

Alex ended the call and dropped the phone into his pocket, noticing that Jacob was still staring at him.

 

"What?" Alex puffed, looking over at Jacob, who turned onto another street.

 

Jacob shook his head as he turned the steering wheel. "Who were you talking to? Who was that?"

"A friend," Alex responded, somewhat annoyed by Jacob's intrusion.

 

"'A friend' is not good enough for me, Alex. I need a name. This is a risky business and I don't trust anybody; for all I know you could be setting me up for something. Who were you talking to?"

 

Alex ran his hand over his nearly-bald head, clearing his throat and glaring at Little Jacob.

 

"Sergei; he's a good friend of mine. FBI picked him up when we arrived this morning, and he was just checking in."

 

Jacob though a moment, and looked over at Alex. "Sergei Lenin?"

"Yeah," Alex grinned, "you know him?"

 

"He's the guy who got me in to the gun business."

[Stefan.]

Hey man, I'm back. Nice; it's great to see that we're getting down into the nitty-gritty of Liberty City. Alright!

[silviodante]

I'm so happy you picked this story back up, your writing style is great yet again. Can't wait to read more...