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Things changed, but they also stayed the same. Humans evolved, but still wanted to kill each other.
That was where my family stepped in.
Death had been cheaper back then, but easier now. My family’s company had weapons that could level entire city blocks, bombs that could rip a man’s skin from his bones, guns that could tear holes in steel and shred a chest to nothing. All that for anyone willing to pay.
Some men would have moral issues with dealing in slaughter.
I had none of those.
My father had made sure of it from a very young age.
The driver parked outside of a quiet cafe. I stared at the crumbling facade and windswept street. This wasn’t the kind of place where I was used to meeting government officials, but I tried to keep my displeasure to myself as I stepped out onto the sidewalk. Matthias joined me and frowned at his phone.
“This is the right place.” He looked up at me, dark eyes narrowed. “Should we leave?”
I held up a hand. “This is too important. Let’s find out why we’re being snubbed.”
He grunted. I could tell he didn’t like it, but he wouldn’t argue.
My soldiers took up positions around the cafe. I walked forward and went inside with Matthias on my heels. The interior was quiet and dark, with a counter straight ahead and several small tables. It was early and the streets outside were still. Plants were lined along the windowsills, and it smelled like almonds and chocolate. It was clean and nice, if cramped and old.
I spotted the man I was there to meet right away. He sat with his back to the wall and wore a simple and plain gray suit and a navy tie. His hair was buzzed short, and his pale, pallid skin had a sheen of sweat. He stood nervously as I approached, smiling like a bureaucrat, and shook my hand.
“Mr. Solar, I am so sorry to make you come here, and to make so many changes last moment,” he said in accented but passable English. Most people in Latvia spoke Latvian, though there was a large Russian contingent.
“And you are?”
“My name is Emils Jansons. I am the prime secretary of Minister Brnovich. He sent me here in his stead.” He gestured awkwardly at the table. “Please, take a seat, yes?”
“Very well.” I gestured for Matthias, who took the chair next to mine. Several of my guards lingered nearby, watching the single old woman that stood back near the kitchen warily.
I sat across from Emils and folded my hands on the table.
Emils shifted and stared at the table. “Well, ah, I know this is not what you expected, and the minister does apologize, but we are very busy as you must know, and—”
“Emils, please don’t waste my time any further. Why are we meeting in a rundown cafe in the middle of nowhere?” I stared at the man, trying to keep my face neutral. He grimaced and rubbed his palms together.
“Well, there has been a… problem. Not a big problem, but a problem.”
“Tell me.”
He glanced at Matthias then at me, almost pleading. “Certain members of the parliament are unhappy about our deal. Not the terms, but any deal at all. They believe Latvia is a peaceful country with no need for weapons.”
“Idealists.”
“Yes, yes, Minister Brnovich agrees,” he said, enthusiastic. “However, they make problems. They are very loud, yes? And so Minister Brnovich, he wishes very much to make deal, but he cannot be involved any longer.”
I didn’t like this. I glanced at Matthias, who stared darkly at Emils.
“Does this mean you’ll be my point of contract from now on?”
“Oh, no, no,” Emils said, shaking his head, waving his hands. “Not me. It cannot be me. I am the minister’s prime secretary.”
I clenched my jaw, trying not to kill this simpering asshole. “Then who?”
“Certain associates of Minister Brnovich’s. Fine, upstanding men. You will deal with them from now on. They will be the mouth of the minister, and any deal you make with them, you will make with him. Will this suffice?”
I leaned back and stared. “So you’re telling me I’m supposed to set up a multi-million-dollar deal with men I don’t know and haven’t met, and you won’t even tell me their names?”
Emils looked like he might cry. “Yes.”
I shoved my chair back and stood. “You’ve wasted my time. Tell Minister Brnovich—”
“Wait,” Emils said, throwing out his hands. Matthias twitched, and I guessed he was reaching toward his gun. I touched his shoulder to steady him. “I have documents, yes? Official documents, and down payment, as discussed.” He reached under the table and lifted up a dossier. It was thick with paperwork, but sitting on top was a check, made out for the proper amount: ten million American dollars.
I pushed it over to Matthias, who studied it closely. “Looks real.”
