Page 29 of Escaping the Bratva

12 years ago

“What do you think about coming on officially? Joining the Bravta?” Alek asks as we load a truck with barrels filled with guns. So far, all I’ve done is work with guns, loading them up, putting them together, delivering them where I’m told to. I’ve done a couple long cross-country trips that kind of sucked, but it was worth the money. I rest my arm on the dolly.

“That’s a big commitment,” I say. Alek leans against the truck, pulls a cigarette from his pocket, then puts it up to his mouth.

“Yeah, it’s a lifetime commitment. There’s no way out.”

I don’t like the sound of that. The only way out of the Bratva is death, which means everything I do will be for them. There’s a lot of money to be made in the mafia, along with a brotherhood of protection, but I want to be my own man.

I shake my head. “Nah, I’m good.”

Alek lights the cigarette and inhales. “Alright, but you aren’t going to be able to help out much longer if you don’t join up. I have newcomers that need a job. You’re done with college so don’t tell me you need the money.”

He was right. I graduated three months ago, and instead of looking for a job in an office building, I’ve spent my time helping out Alek with all the guns. I knew, at some point, it would come to this.

“You think I can buy some guns off you?” I ask.

He raises an eyebrow. “How much?”

“$12,000 worth. A combination of AKs and handguns.”

He blew smoke out. “You starting something on your own?”

I shrug. “Why not? I’ve learned everything I need to learn.”

If I were to join the Bratva, I’d be killed for taking the knowledge they’ve taught me and using it for my own advantage. But I haven’t joined, and Alek is the one who brought me onboard to help out. Plus, I’m buying directly from him.

He flicks his cigarette ash. “It's a lot of work to build your own reputation.”

I nod. “I know.”

But there’s money to be made in selling guns. I saw how much Alek brings in, but he has to give a percentage of that to his higher-ups. If I were the boss, I could be making a lot more money with no one to listen to.

“You haven’t seen the violent side of this business, Vladimir. It's not all just moving products from one spot to another.”

“I’m aware.”

He eyes me cautiously, like he’s not sure if he believes me. I don’t blame him. Even though we grew up together in the same neighborhood, I’ve been sitting in a classroom for the last four years while he’s been learning the way of the Bratva.

He lets out a sigh. “So you’re going to build your own arms dealing empire then?”

“That’s the plan.”

“I’m proud of you, man. But as a Bratok, I have to warn you that if you take any of our clients, I’ll hang you by the balls.”

“I hear you.”

He flicks his cigarette to the ground and squashes it with his shoes. “Where do you want this shit dropped off?”

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