The shack's door buzzed open. Mr. Petrov was obviously still staring at the blank screen, but he quickly got up, ready to cover his weakness with a display of anger. Idiot. Like he could fool me.
“You bastard, I was here at the agreed time...”
“And I was making sure you would listen, Yegor.” I smiled. Nobody ever called him by his first name – for a reason.
Mr. Petrov went into frenzy when he heard it. “How the hell do you dare to call me–”
“You can try to hide it, Yegor, but it won't change what you are or where you come from.”
He got dangerously close to me. Except he was as dangerous as a chihuahua. “You have any damned idea on who I am?!”
“Why, of course. Yegor Petrov, today one of the fortunes of the city, yesterday just a farmer who got lucky when the old regime fell. Luck is what got you there, Yegor, and you know it. Luck in never looking where interesting things happen, if I may add.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”
“You should know.” I quickly dug the next plastic bag from my pocket. “Anyway, I got another souvenir for you.” I took his hand and left the gift on it.
He froze. His eyes locked on the bloody bag. He wasn't expecting this.
I made him look into my eyes. “How many more pieces do I need to bring for you to realize that there's no stopping me? Huh? Or will you try and complete the collection?”
He bit his lip for a split second. “Look... Okay. Okay, I'll sign it. But please. Leave him.”
I took the agreement from my briefcase, carefully hiding the the rest of its contents. I left it on the table for him to sign.
He got his own pen and signed it. Then he took a deep breath before staring at me. “Here. You have took everything I have. Now, where is my son.”
“I'm curious. What are you going to do now? Since, well, this includes the company too.”
His eyes were cold as ice. “That's none of your business.”
“I... thought you might try to knock on a few doors, see if someone is willing to give you some credit... return some favors...”
“What the hell does that mean.”
“Just wanted to give you some friendly advice. You may want to be cautious as to which doors you knock on. You don't want to mess around with... certain people.”
“Again, none of your business. Now. Where the hell is my son.”
“He's in a safe place, Yegor. Don't worry. You'll soon hear news of him.” I winked an eye.
He grabbed my jacket, stupidly trying to raise me in the air. “You bastard you told me–”
I drew a knife and sliced his hands' flesh open, forcing him to release me. I put some distance, this wasn't supposed to end up in a fight. “Don't think you can beat me, Yegor. Now, this isn't over yet. I'll contact you, don't worry.” I unlocked the door and left.
