Sasha, Not Aleks

nine - muddled decisions

SASHA

Why did I do that? Why did I agree to that? What in the name of everloving fuck was going through my mind when I said yeah, sure, you can be in on the plan? Adrenaline? Raw fucking testosterone? That shit does fucking numbers on me weekly but not enough to make that bad of a decision.

There's a list in front of me, sitting out on the table in my apartment, a list of things I need before turning over Laughlin Avery to my Dad. The hard way, find every piece out individually, and the Starikov family way which involves dragging him into my basement and beating the shit out of him until he speaks.

I'm pretty sure you can guess which one I'm going with.

So I have to individually find out every component from this stupid scratched out list on the back of an old menu that I wrote down as fast as I could as my Dad was ranting information at me about a month ago.

Laughlin Avery, dead or alive

But my father is definitely depending on, if not betting on, me bringing him alive. He has plans, I'm sure of it.

His wife

For some reason

A full list of companies that he is invested in and who is in control of those stocks and how he changes around that money

This one I understand, but why my father wouldn't just have one of the soldiers google all that information, I have no idea.

Who would be in charge of the company in case of his death

Understandable. My father plans to kill him. My father also plans to remain in control of Avery and Co.

Where he stores all the cocaine he brings into Boston, exact locations and amounts

Money. My father is after money. Drugs and addictive substances are among the best ways of getting that money. This is proudly displayed with Great Britain's opium trade in history, and also drug cartels, and every mafia ever, and big pharma, and the exploitation of third world countries, and big tobacco and a hundred million other things. If you get someone addicted to something only you have, they'll give you anything you want.

Where he stores all the heroin he brings into Boston, exact locations and amounts

Same thing as the last bullet, addictive substances are raw fucking gold in the illegal world.

Who controls said drug stores

Again. Addictive substances.

Who he funnels money into and why. Aka: politicians, public officials, private officials, other companies.

This is important because the more politicians my Dad can get in on, the safer he is. Politics is a sham, entirely a sham, and it protects those who are influential enough to control it.

That's all I have but I don't doubt he'll come up with more information later on that I need to wiggle out of this man before someone will ultimately put a slug through his head.

Uncle Ilya takes that time to call me, my phone going off next to my plate on the table.

"Hi, Uncle Ilya," I sigh, staring down at my list of things and my list of ideas.

"How's Avery coming?"

I sit back in my chair, drumming my fingers on the old wood table, "fine, it's coming along fine. I made a stupid mistake today but that's about it."

"What stupid mistake?" He sounds beyond concerned, it's comforting, at least, that he's supportive.

"I let the girl, you know her, the mechanic, be further in on this than I had previously wanted. I needed it to be a just-me type of deal and she's an unknown-"