Post by andrei on Nov 1, 2008 2:58:38 GMT -5
SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO
Brighton Beach, New York.
The sound of sirens forces Andrei to pause from drinking the cool, refreshing soda. The sirens sounded like they were coming from up the street...from the direction of...
The soda drops to the ground and Karishnikov is off at a dead sprint toward the project his family called home.
He didn’t need to run far to smell the smoke, or hear the crackle of the flames. Soon, he could feel the heat, then a firefighter grabs the young Andrei and pulls him back, kicking and screaming.
He never saw his family again...
PRESENT DAY
Alexandria, Louisiana
Andrei Karishnikov sits at a table, laptop in front of him, stacks of unfolded papers and envelopes.
Alexis, of Tomas Luger’s Rabble of Dangerous Miscreants, is pacing beside him.
AK is pouring of figures and punching numbers into a calculator.
-It doesn’t make any sense, does it?
-Actually, Tomas is almost the exact opposite of the character he portrays on TV-
-So, what are you say, Tomas is not broke?
-Wait, you actually didn’t know?
I can tell by the look on her face that she honestly thought Tomas Luger was a washed up wrestler trying to make it one last time with my financial backing
-I’m sorry to tell you this Lexi, but Tomas is very well invested and even with the economy in the dump, he’s doing very well for himself-
Sensing she was about to lose it, I try to shoot for any information I can.
-Lex, what does Tom need thirty thousand dollars every month for a private detective?
Alexis, seizing any opportunity to wound Luger, whips out her most venomous claws.
-So, you know how you haven’t picked a best man yet?
-Oh, God! He’s spying on Brian-
-No, he’s not spying on Brian. He has a hair brained scheme, that he thinks will make you choose him over ‘ol Panther.
-So, Who’s he spying on?
-He said he found your brother, but I didn’t know you had a brother-
Son of a bitch...Vitali is a alive after all. And Tomas has found him.
-I had a brother, but he died in a fire. Even if Tomas found someone that claims to be my brother, it changes nothing about my life as it currently stands.
-Woah! So, we don’t have to worry about the eviction notice then?
-No, Alexis. Go home and I’ll give this to my accountant. I set Tomas up on a plan and have his bills auto payed out of his recurring revenues. I’ll talk to Tomas about it later, he’ll probably never even notice.
Alexis hugs Andrei and kisses him on the cheek.
-Thanks, King, you’re the best.
She leaves, but what she’s left in her wake won’t go away overnight. I’ve got to step in the ring with Dragzilla and now I have to wrestle with the knowledge that my brother is, indeed, alive. Oh, I’ve had my suspicions before...
4 YEARS AGO
Brighton Beach, New York
Owner/Operator of the Odessa Wrestling League (or OWL), Nicholai Dimitriov, has died mysteriously in the middle of the night.
He was 74, but even healthy old men don’t suffer often from bullet holes and live.
Not only did Mr. Dimitriov own the OWL, he also owned some shipping warehouses, several fine eateries, and a carwash. When Nicholai died, he left only the OWL to Andrei Karishnikov.
The same OWL that Andrei had worked so hard to escape. Andrei killed other men, for Mr. Dimitriov’s pleasure or at his command. No one ever understood why Dimitriov would leave the Russian mob’s hitman factory in the hands of someone that despised the way of life.
Nicholai Dimitriov was Russian mafia. The Odessa Wrestling League took in poor, abandoned, starving immigrants and made them into cold blooded killers. Mere children, with nothing to lose, and he gave them a home and a purpose.
Everything else, Dimitriov left to an undisclosed beneficiary. Andrei never asked, but always wondered.
Two hours later, Andrei was taken into custody for questioning into the murder of Nicholai Dimitriov. He was later released, but the police said they found his DNA at the scene. The case is unsolved to this day.
So Andrei is left a facility full of half trained killers and no crime syndicate to finish training them for. He immediately got his very last trainee hired into a wrestling federation. Tomas Luger didn’t have the knack for violence, but he was fearless and passionate.
PRESENT DAY
Alexandria, Louisiana
Andrei’s cell phone rings as he’s done boxing up the last of Tomas Luger’s financial crisis. AK checks the caller ID: Bishop.
Whatever Bishop wants at this hour can’t be good.
-Talk to me-
-Andrei, it’s real bad man! Quentin’s been shot man! Fuck-
-WHAT?!
-Quentin has been shot! I don’t think he’s conscious man-
-Bishop, you have to call the paramedics-
-You have to talk to Tomas, King.
-Right. Get Black taken care of, call me when you get him on the helicopter and your on your way.
I already know what Tomas has done, by spying on my brother. This was my warning. Next time, it’s personal.
Andrei hits a couple of buttons on his phone and waits for it to connect at the other end-
-Andrei, did Bishop get ahold of you?
-We need to talk.
-No shit! Your broth-
-No, I talk, you listen. You need to stop spending the thirty grand a month to scope out my brother. You’re just going to get more people hurt.
-How’d you know I hired a private dick to track down Vitali?
-Nevermind that. You have to call off this watch-
-That shouldn’t be a problem, since the guy I hired shot Quentin.
-WHAT?!
-He told me to give you Vitali’s phone number. You have to call your brother, King.
I haven’t talked to my brother in seventeen years. Better late than never.
-Get your ass to Louisiana, Tomas. We’ll talk about this later.
-Andrei-
-Fuck is it, Tom?
-That bullet, it was meant for me.
FADE OUT
Brighton Beach, New York.
The sound of sirens forces Andrei to pause from drinking the cool, refreshing soda. The sirens sounded like they were coming from up the street...from the direction of...
The soda drops to the ground and Karishnikov is off at a dead sprint toward the project his family called home.
He didn’t need to run far to smell the smoke, or hear the crackle of the flames. Soon, he could feel the heat, then a firefighter grabs the young Andrei and pulls him back, kicking and screaming.
He never saw his family again...
PRESENT DAY
Alexandria, Louisiana
Andrei Karishnikov sits at a table, laptop in front of him, stacks of unfolded papers and envelopes.
Alexis, of Tomas Luger’s Rabble of Dangerous Miscreants, is pacing beside him.
AK is pouring of figures and punching numbers into a calculator.
-It doesn’t make any sense, does it?
-Actually, Tomas is almost the exact opposite of the character he portrays on TV-
-So, what are you say, Tomas is not broke?
-Wait, you actually didn’t know?
I can tell by the look on her face that she honestly thought Tomas Luger was a washed up wrestler trying to make it one last time with my financial backing
-I’m sorry to tell you this Lexi, but Tomas is very well invested and even with the economy in the dump, he’s doing very well for himself-
Sensing she was about to lose it, I try to shoot for any information I can.
-Lex, what does Tom need thirty thousand dollars every month for a private detective?
Alexis, seizing any opportunity to wound Luger, whips out her most venomous claws.
-So, you know how you haven’t picked a best man yet?
-Oh, God! He’s spying on Brian-
-No, he’s not spying on Brian. He has a hair brained scheme, that he thinks will make you choose him over ‘ol Panther.
-So, Who’s he spying on?
-He said he found your brother, but I didn’t know you had a brother-
Son of a bitch...Vitali is a alive after all. And Tomas has found him.
-I had a brother, but he died in a fire. Even if Tomas found someone that claims to be my brother, it changes nothing about my life as it currently stands.
-Woah! So, we don’t have to worry about the eviction notice then?
-No, Alexis. Go home and I’ll give this to my accountant. I set Tomas up on a plan and have his bills auto payed out of his recurring revenues. I’ll talk to Tomas about it later, he’ll probably never even notice.
Alexis hugs Andrei and kisses him on the cheek.
-Thanks, King, you’re the best.
She leaves, but what she’s left in her wake won’t go away overnight. I’ve got to step in the ring with Dragzilla and now I have to wrestle with the knowledge that my brother is, indeed, alive. Oh, I’ve had my suspicions before...
4 YEARS AGO
Brighton Beach, New York
Owner/Operator of the Odessa Wrestling League (or OWL), Nicholai Dimitriov, has died mysteriously in the middle of the night.
He was 74, but even healthy old men don’t suffer often from bullet holes and live.
Not only did Mr. Dimitriov own the OWL, he also owned some shipping warehouses, several fine eateries, and a carwash. When Nicholai died, he left only the OWL to Andrei Karishnikov.
The same OWL that Andrei had worked so hard to escape. Andrei killed other men, for Mr. Dimitriov’s pleasure or at his command. No one ever understood why Dimitriov would leave the Russian mob’s hitman factory in the hands of someone that despised the way of life.
Nicholai Dimitriov was Russian mafia. The Odessa Wrestling League took in poor, abandoned, starving immigrants and made them into cold blooded killers. Mere children, with nothing to lose, and he gave them a home and a purpose.
Everything else, Dimitriov left to an undisclosed beneficiary. Andrei never asked, but always wondered.
Two hours later, Andrei was taken into custody for questioning into the murder of Nicholai Dimitriov. He was later released, but the police said they found his DNA at the scene. The case is unsolved to this day.
So Andrei is left a facility full of half trained killers and no crime syndicate to finish training them for. He immediately got his very last trainee hired into a wrestling federation. Tomas Luger didn’t have the knack for violence, but he was fearless and passionate.
PRESENT DAY
Alexandria, Louisiana
Andrei’s cell phone rings as he’s done boxing up the last of Tomas Luger’s financial crisis. AK checks the caller ID: Bishop.
Whatever Bishop wants at this hour can’t be good.
-Talk to me-
-Andrei, it’s real bad man! Quentin’s been shot man! Fuck-
-WHAT?!
-Quentin has been shot! I don’t think he’s conscious man-
-Bishop, you have to call the paramedics-
-You have to talk to Tomas, King.
-Right. Get Black taken care of, call me when you get him on the helicopter and your on your way.
I already know what Tomas has done, by spying on my brother. This was my warning. Next time, it’s personal.
Andrei hits a couple of buttons on his phone and waits for it to connect at the other end-
-Andrei, did Bishop get ahold of you?
-We need to talk.
-No shit! Your broth-
-No, I talk, you listen. You need to stop spending the thirty grand a month to scope out my brother. You’re just going to get more people hurt.
-How’d you know I hired a private dick to track down Vitali?
-Nevermind that. You have to call off this watch-
-That shouldn’t be a problem, since the guy I hired shot Quentin.
-WHAT?!
-He told me to give you Vitali’s phone number. You have to call your brother, King.
I haven’t talked to my brother in seventeen years. Better late than never.
-Get your ass to Louisiana, Tomas. We’ll talk about this later.
-Andrei-
-Fuck is it, Tom?
-That bullet, it was meant for me.
FADE OUT