Faust

Faustian bargain

   Through the soundproof leather door. We enter Ivan's office. Extreme opposite to miss Qin's, this room is filled with all kinds of expansive decorations. A golden coffee table with a bundle of liquor and a leather sofa next to it. A 50-inch TV on the west wall. Ceiling with gold lining on the edge and around the lights. A huge red Indian carpet almost covered the entire floor.

A black desk in the middle of the room(also with golden lining on the edge) there's a bunch of papers, a revolver, a glass ashtray with several cig ends, and a golden plate with some leftovers of cocaine on it. A black baroque-style leather chair is behind the desk. A gun cabinet sits at the northwest corner of the office.

Ivan pours two shots of vodka and hands me one.
"To your health."
        "To your wealth." He grins at my words.
        Hot liquor down my throat. Undiluted vodka plus the martini I had have given me enough courage to battle all my unwary doubts about..... everything. Heaven knows how I needed this.

        "You got your office renewed. Again."
        "A bit. Here and there yeah." He pours himself another one.
        "Humble eh?  Shouldn't you be preparing for war or something?"

        "Гавно!" He downs another shot and lumps down next to me. "Everybody is talking about war. War this, war that, for fuck sake." He continues swearing in Russian but I can't make out the rest.
        "Thought you would be the most eager when it comes to a good old-fashioned bloodbath," I say while side-eyeing him.

        "That's when I was still a soldier. Now I got to worry about more than myself. And I got to worry about money again!" I look at him and the Indian carpet, the desk silently.

        "Don't give me that fucking look. I used my own gold for this." He grabs the vodka bottle and pours mine and his glass full.

        "To war."
        "To peace." He clinks my glass as we finished the drink again.
        "Peace? Don't tell me you're becoming a moralist." He groans.
        "I was never a big fan of total conflict between two gangs. Bad for business. Bad for both sides." I cross my right leg on my left.
        "Ha! You can take those words to Zakhar. See if he buys it." I raise my eyebrows.
        "Bosses gave the words?" Ivan doesn't answer me. After a few seconds, he puts his glass on the coffee table.

        "Not yet. But judging from the orders he gave, it wouldn't be long before it starts."
He seems.......worried.

        "You truly don't want this do you?" I sit up and look him in the eyes.

        "........No. I fucking hate those slanted eyes in east but a war with them won't end pretty. I am not a fool, I can see they aren't disunited anymore. If it was 8 years ago I wouldn't even give a shit. But now....... Fighting them now will turn half of this city into a slaughterhouse." He leans back. Looking at the ceiling as he speaks.

        I push open the metal door leaving a blood print on it.the sun is setting down.

        "Especially now that you are not here." He glances at me. I see plea in his eyes.

I made a promise to myself too, Ivan.....

        "I've told you, Ivan. I won't get into this. I won't get into either side." I lower my line of sight out of reflexes.
        He looks at me. Pitying. Then he lets out a long sign.
        "I know, I know." He grabs the bottle again. "ебать." He shakes his hand gently. "Your rules will kill you the day you break them." He drinks straight from the bottle. He sits motionless for a while like he's trying to let the alcohol take its effects.