- We’re here. - Jason announced with a clap as he shut the engine down, letting the uneasy calmness take over the car.
- That we are. - Dirk bit his lower lip, poorly trying to mask his anxiety.
Jason got out first and waddled through the snow-covered sidewalk to the front steps of the old tenement that was their goal. Dirk followed soon after, having stripped himself of the blanket and leaving the empty bucket on the seat. The cozy warmth of the car quickly turned to a wicked winter bite as the cold night air hit the man’s face
- Shit… - he let out with a big white plume of breath leaving his mouth.
- That’s bound to sober you up some! - Jason let out a hearty chuckle along with a cloud of nicotine smoke, offering a cigarette to Dirk.
- You smoke? - Dirk couldn’t hide his surprise, his hand stuck halfway towards the offering, his mind deep in thought.
- S’pose I do. - he answered with a shrug, holding his ciggy in the corner of his mouth.- Gives Fleece something to do. - he snorted, amused with his own words, then shook the packet to catch Dirk’s attention again…
The grizzled man took him up on the offer and let his friend carefully light up the cigarette despite the howling wind. A stinging warmth filled Dirk’s lungs, and a wave of calmness washed over him like a mother’s embrace. How long has it been since he last smoked?
Minutes passed in a flash. The snowstorm was really starting to pick up, and it was getting unbearably cold. Dirk didn’t even realize when he started tapping his foot between puffs. Was it to warm up, or was it plain stress?
- If you are still worried, I’m going too. He also wanted something from me, dunno what though.
- That… doesn’t really make me feel any better. - He shook his head as he flicked his cig into the snow.
- You’ll have to suck it up then. - feeling it was high-time to move, Jason stamped out what was left of his own smoke with his fool and with equal parts concern and amusement tapped Dirk on the shoulder, ushering him in.
The inside was little more than an old granite staircase with plain beige walls, immediately betraying the old communist-era roots of the building. Old lightbulbs, somehow unchanged for decades, cast a comforting orange light on each turn, easing Dirk into the inevitable encounter up ahead.
Steps scrolled past, though, cold and uncaring for the man’s plights and soon enough, the two men found themselves standing before a burgundy leather-bound door. A popular choice in these parts.
- Wait…
Dirk squeezed his one final doubt through his throat that he suddenly found dry as dirt, just as Jason pressed the doorbell. It was too late, and he, a grown man, was forced to stand there in silence with his head hung low like a scolded child, straining his ears for the sounds of a small commotion on the other side of the door, bracing himself for impact.
Something clicked, then shifted, followed by the sounds of turning mechanisms. The door swung open with an audible swish of the leather grinding against the gray floor covering inside. And on it, a pair of feet in black socks.
- Well, well, well… now, if it isn’t my brother dearest! - a young man with short, dirty blonde hair said in mock surprise, a sparkle of joy flashing in his grayish-blue eyes.
- Spare me. - Dirk exhaled, suddenly feeling as all his anxiety turned to ungodly exhaustion.
His brother was always too eager to play. Too happy-go-lucky.
Too…
Just too much for him to handle, and now that they stood face to face, Dirk had no choice but to face his annoying past that he so yearned to relive for years, and his shameful present.
- No can do, bro. C’mere, gimme a hug! - he spread his arms wide and before Dirk could vehemently refuse, he wrapped him in a crushing hug.
Dirk felt a pang in his heart that told him to return it, but he just couldn’t bring himself to, instead settling for an awkward pat on the back that quickly soured when Dirk heard his brother, a whole head shorter, take a big whiff at his chest.
- Hey, it’s not all bad! Aside from the stench of cheap booze, you don’t smell like a complete bum! - he announced with glee as he jumped back into his apartment before Dirk could smack him on the head for his insolence.
“Over thirty, yet he still acts like a kid” - Dirk’s mind hummed to him as he fought to stave off a smirk.
- I still shower, alright? - Dirk retorted with annoyance, candidly smelling under his shirt.
- Alright, where do you want the cargo, Samson? - Jason yelled from behind Dirk, picking him up under his arms like a house cat with little issue, leaving him no room to dawdle.
He was no small man by any means, but Jason made it look trivial
- Hey! - the man protested, but his cry fell on deaf ears as he was being carried in.
- Throw him on the couch in the salon. The guest room is taken.
- Taken? - if Dirk’s ears could perk up, they certainly would. - By whom?
- Well, my dear broski, I don’t blame you for not knowing with the whole radio silence you had going on and all, but I’m currently engaged. My fiancé has work early tomorrow morning, so try to keep it down.
- But why is she in the guest room? - Dirk could not resist the question.
- We’re saving ourselves for marriage. - Samson snorted from the kitchen corner that shared the same room with the salon as he set the kettle and dropped a few bags of tea into three cups.
His back showed as he worked, a thin ponytail swaying from side to side. A quaint contrast to his otherwise short hair.
- We’re just traditional like that, don’t mind it.
“Traditional.” - any other word would fit Sam better in Dirk’s mind, but then again…
What did he know anymore?
- So? Why am I here? - Dirk finally managed to cough out as he was sat down on the comfy little couch, squeezed just between two cushions, one baby blue, the other sea green.
The house certainly had a woman’s touch, alright.
- Getting philosophical, are we? - Sam chuckled, tapping the top of the kitchen counter twice in amusement. - Sorry, I work in cybersecurity. Ask something more practical. - he joked.
Jason sat opposite to Dirk in a little armchair that made his already towering frame seem even bigger, adding to the comedic effect.
- So what is it? An intervention? - Dirk reiterated, wiping the moisture of the melted snow off his forehead.
- Would you be mad if I said it was? - Sam didn’t waste time, putting two cups of tea on the glass table in the middle of the room.
- Yes. - Dirk answered with something between a bark, a growl and a low grumble.
- Then it is an intervention! - Samson burst out into laughter as he scooted back to the kitchen for his own cup, then quickly returned with a stool, which he placed in such a way by the table that he’d be able to get a good look at both of his guests as he spoke.
- Alright… alright, I see…
Dirk nodded his head with eyes closed, to all appearances lost deep in thought, then suddenly shot up from his seat in one swift motion.
- I’ll be going then.
- Hold up, cowboy! - Samson grabbed him by the shoulder and sat him back down with a little force. - The least you can do is listen… and drink that damn tea, it was expensive.
- A tea from a bag… expensive. - Dirk sighed, giving Sam an indiscreet look of confusion.
- We live in an era of convenience, brother. Everything’s bagged. And yes, it was expensive. It’s Himalayan.
- I assume that means it’s good? - he shot him an indulgent side eye, then took in a lungful of the tea’s nice aroma.
- You’d assume right. - Jason interjected between sips.
- Fine. I’ll stay until I finish the drink, so say your piece quickly. - Dirk shook his head with a sour expression, then looked deep into the dark abyss of his cup.
It really did smell nice, but there was no way he’d admit it.
- Just like that? No kicking and screaming? - Sam mocked with joy plastered on his face.
- Don’t make me burn my tongue by drinking faster. - Dirk grumbled under breath.
- Righty-O! Onto the matter at hand. - he cleared his throat theatrically. - I found you a job.
That line quickly got him a raised eyebrow from his brother.
- Who said I needed a job? How do you know I don’t have a job already?
- I know you don’t… but I’ll ask out of courtesy. ‘Do you have a job?’
- Well I don’t know, maybe you should tell me, since you know so much? Do I have a job? Bah! How would you even know? - Dirk shot his hands up in frustration, almost spilling his tea.
- Being computer savvy pays off, dear brother, and I’ve watched you go on with your hobo routine for far too long.
- Were you spying on me?
- Just checking the CCTV from time to time, is all. If it makes you feel any better, if you ever lost your wallet, I could probably find it just from the footage.
- Fuck off…
- I will soon enough. Alright, enough digressing. You’re a jobless bum with no formal education and a whole suitcase worth of trauma. Your self-esteem is in the dirt and your will to do anything does not exceed the basic human functions of eating, shitting, drinking and sleeping.
- Flatter me more. - Dirk scoffed, but his brother’s words really stung.
- And that’s why I’m getting you back in the saddle!
- What saddle, you snot-nosed bastard? I am retired. RE. TI. RED. I don’t even need a job to sustain myself.
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- You don’t need the money, I can agree on that. But don’t you feel like something is missing in your life? Of course you do. Look at yourself in the mirror, you sad sack of shit.
Sam’s tone suddenly got heated
- I don’t even need to tell you that you are still hung up on that last “fuckup” of yours, or whatever you insist on calling it, but you have to get over it. Get over yourself.
- Who are y–
- I didn’t finish! I used to look up to you, you fuck. You were like a superstar. “Ares” they called you. The god of war. Now, how fucking sad is it that the god of war drinks himself half to death daily because his fragile ego got hurt once. But you were something even greater than some god. You were my brother! My hero! And I can’t fucking bear to see my hero self-destruct. I thought you were made of steel… was I wrong? Was it just glass painted gray?
He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes that looked like they were on the verge of spilling tears, yet somehow remained dry.
- I don’t know why you took me in. One orphan taking care of another, as if your life wasn’t hard enough at the time… but we are brothers, sworn now and forever, and I’d sooner die than sit and see you hurting. You got me everything I have now, and now it’s high time I paid you back. - Sam downed his tea in one gulp, and that seemed to calm his nerves.
Dirk could not cough out a single word, his mind stuck between bewilderment, sympathy and nostalgia, that all tugged at him at once, threatening to tear him apart.
- Do you know why I chose to bring you here today?”
- I don’t. - there was a note of shame in Dirk’s voice.
- Today’s the fifth anniversary of your retirement. That means you are no longer barred by contract from any kind of military service. Well, not officially at least, but we’ll get to that.
- Is that really today? - Dirk stared dumbfounded at the bottom of his empty cup.
He hadn’t even realized. He lifted his gaze and looked his brother in the eyes.
Sam smirked.
- So I finally got your attention, huh? - gone was the torrent of emotions on Sam’s face, now replaced with a coy expression.
Dirk didn’t answer, his mouth slightly agape, but if anyone could ever read his expressions, it was Samson. And now the cheeky little bastard had all the attention he would even want.
- I think I’ll bask in this moment for a second. - Sam closed his eyes, a self-satisfied grin growing on his face.
- Spill it. - Dirk urged him on, dropping all pretense that he wasn’t interested.
- Have you heard about “Ouroboros”?
- Well, yes. Obviously. They were one of the leading chemistry cells of the Empire’s research and development program, though officially they were registered as a pharmaceutical company. I worked with them a few times in the past, for better or worse. They mostly created battle stimulants, but that’s not what really got their name out there. They had a hand in making all those fucking monsters that now litter the entirety of wastelands from here to Old Moscow, like old tra–
He said matter-of-factly, but cut himself off, realizing a gaffe.
- Sorry. - he looked towards Jason with an apologetic look.
- None taken. - he leaned back in his tiny chair, arms crossed on his chest, but otherwise completely at ease. - But my father would probably like to argue with you. He made those “monsters” practically by himself. Any contribution Ouroboros made was either negligible or outright bothersome.
- Right… they were making drugs for the empire… except not anymore. - Sam corrected. - It was in the newspapers some time ago. Apparently Judas Abalos, the de-facto founder and CEO of Ouroboros, had a little falling out with our dear old Emps and is moving all his assets overseas. A total exodus, you could say.
- And he’s just allowing that? - there was clear bewilderment in Dirk’s voice. That didn’t seem right. - There’s a few decades worth of military secrets in that man’s head. No sane ruler would let a man of his caliber just “go”.
There was a knowing look in Sam’s eyes, but whatever was on his mind, he didn’t let it slip quite yet.
- The split was apparently amicable. - he shrugged. - Or at least that’s what the media reported. But that’s not important. What is important is the sensitive cargo making its way from our humble little City-24 through the Atlantic all the way to Ecuador in South America. The very cargo you’ll be guarding as a mercenary in two weeks time.
Dirk’s eyes went wide, and if not for the fact that he finished his tea a long time ago, he would be choking on it at that very moment.
- Me? A mercenary?”
- Well, why not? There’s nothing holding you back anymore. Or do you still have lingering attachments to old Emps?
Sam looked expectantly at his brother, but heard nothing in return. He continued with a sigh, in a bit of a hushed voice.
- You don’t owe anything to anybody here. You were good at what you did, sure, but the Empire exploited you for its own benefit, just like it does to anybody. - Sam took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. - Look, I’ll be honest with you. You said it yourself, there’s a certain caliber of men that the Empire won’t just let go, and you are one of them. They gave you a few years of vacation, how nice of them, but now they’ll either want you back in the fold, or out of the picture. - he made a cutting motion on his throat. - Either way, I need you out of the country, and this gig is the perfect chance for you not only to disappear, but to start anew somewhere else.
- What about you? - Dirk shot his brother a concerned look, still unsure about all this.
- I’m moving to Australia in two months. I already have everything figured out. Plans within plans, contingencies and backups. I’ve spent the past few years on this, so the border-crossing will be nothing but a formality. But you… you need to have something bigger behind your back. A deterrent. A patron in an ivory throne to rival the Emperor, and joining Mr. Abalos’ convoy is the perfect occasion for you to get one.
- Can you even be talking about it openly like that? Somebody’s surely listening.
- I’m feeding fake data to all the bugs in this apartment. Remember what I said, brother. Being tech-savvy pays off. - he tapped his nose with a grin. - That, and there’s nobody here that I don’t trust. We’re all family. - he gave both the men a resolved look.
Dirk nodded, accepting his brother’s words as fact, while Jason froze for just a split second, apparently surprised, but seemed to warm up to the idea the very next moment with an absent look and a barely registrable smile.
Dirk just nodded to himself for a bit, digesting what he heard at his own pace, but not betraying either his intentions, or emotions. Then he put down his cup that he was clutching so mindlessly for a while now.
- You said through the Atlantic. Isn’t that a little counterproductive? Why not go east? The Pacific seems more logical.
Sam shook his head knowingly.
- The convoy will be going on land. Whatever the cargo is, Abalos can’t risk it getting lost at sea. And unfortunately for him, Kintsugi Union controls the Bering Strait, and they explicitly don’t want him on their turf.
- So the long way ‘round…
- Yup. Through the Russian wastelands and Europe, then into the under-ocean highway Omega, and you’ll pop out in Brazil. From there it’ll be smooth sailing, if you don’t mind the civil war.
- I’m used to those. - he shot back, rather unbothered. But two weeks of prep might not be–
Doubt crept onto Dirk’s face, but momentarily turned to surprise as Sam reached towards him and tapped him on the belly.
- Hard as rock. - Sam snorted. - A bit of flab, but you didn’t skimp on training, did you? You can take a man out of the military, but can’t take the military out of a man.
- Did your cameras tell you that too?
- I just had a bit of a feeling, a “brotherly hunch” you can call it.
- Fine. Fine… but who’s to say they’ll want me?
- They are desperate… spread all too thin in the chaos of a sudden move. They need people. Lots of them. They need fodder and are all too eager to pay mercs of all sorts to join their cause.
- What’s the pay?
- Oh, don’t you worry about that. Enough to get a fresh start in most of the world. - he looked at Dirk meaningfully, delaying a bit to bask in his brother’s anticipation. - Two and a half million.
- What?! That much for a merc job?
- Admittedly, they are probably expecting 75% of you to die in the wastelands. I can’t blame them. It’s pretty realistic. The sum is just a carrot on a stick. A golden fucking carrot with a diamond up top.
- Doesn’t sound very appetizing if you ask me. - Jason joked, getting a chuckle from the other men. - But just in case they are not impressed with your middle-aged Greek god abs, I’ll be going along. As your weapon.- he added flatly. - Fleece wants me to see some action
- Can’t you just join as a merc?
- I don’t think it would go over very well with Ouroboros’ people if they saw the things I can shrug off. A mindless bioweapon, though? As you mentioned, there’s plenty of those left over in the wastelands. Who’s to say that you didn’t nab one for yourself? - Jason shrugged his arms. - I still have my collar and the mask my father made for me.
- Are you okay with this? - Dirk’s expression was unreadable as he spoke to Jason.
- Okay? - the giant chuckled. - I need this, Dirk. I am going crazy. There’s only so much cancer I can put into my lungs before Fleece gets bored with that, and then I’ll have a real problem. Bullets, flames and explosions… I’m not afraid of those, but once the genie's out of the bottle, you can’t put it back in. - his veins flashed a faint hue of gold, like a confirmation from Fleece itself that it was all true.
- Fine. - Dirk nodded in contemplation. - I’m in.
- I’m glad you came around to the idea. - Samson beamed at him with a radiant smile.
- Well, what’s done is done. I just wish… I dunno. I wish I didn’t get abducted, for one.
- I never said I was creative. I just get things done. But hey, this job will be right up your alley. A relatively small team, lots of liberty in the field and working close to nature.
- Understaffed, shitty chain of command and trudging knees deep in snow. I get it. What are the other catches?
- Mostly annoying appearances. In bigger settlements, you’ll have to wear their uniforms and lug around weapons issued by them.
- Worthless junk, probably. No matter, even trash can be lethal sometimes. I’ll manage one way or the other.
- As you always do. - Jason affirmed, picking himself up from the armchair. - Whelp. Since there’s no more need for persuasion, I’ll be going on ahead. I’d feel a little bad if I didn’t show up at the warehouse in the morning. I still need to hand in my resignation.
- Persuasion? - Dirk mused.
- I was going to kick your old ass if you were too stubborn. - the giant joked.
Or did he?
- Remember, two weeks. 1800 on Friday by the spire. - the younger brother reminded him, and Jason answered with a silent wave of the hand, then saw himself out.
Now it was just the brothers.
- So marriage, huh… congratulations. - said Dirk with a single drop of guilt in his voice.
- It’s no big deal. We live together, eat together, pay the bills… have been for a long while now. It’s just to make it official.
- Is she okay with the move? To Australia, I mean.
- I’m doing this for her sake, mostly. I had it planned for a long time, and now we can go through with it.
- Now that you don’t have to worry about me…
Dirk sighed out something between a statement and a question.
- Thank you… for not giving up on me.
- Don’t mention it. - Sam nodded. - If you feel like catching up on my life, I’ve left a few dozen voicemails for you. - he got up and patted Dirk on the shoulder. - Now scram. I’ve stayed way past my bedtime for you, you old fuck. - he added with a snicker.
- Ever the sleepy little baby.
It was time to go. To get ready.
- Find me sometime after you’re done. I’m thinking Melbourne. - Sam spoke with a dreamy voice.
- We’ll see if the Anglos let in old Empire veterans. - whimsy or not, Dirk would find him for sure.