TS 2 Part VI Chapter 12

Chapter 12

October 9^th, 2011

Khanty Mansiysk

Guntram de Lisle's diary.

Today Conor turns one year old and he's simply amazing. Sometimes, I can't believe he's here with me or with Alexander. He's the greatest gift I could ever had and I love to see him growing so much at such a fast pace. He started to crawl a bit better since a month ago and we ran after him the whole day. Conor hates to stay in his playpen and wants to explore the house on his own. For him, a closed cabinet is impossible to resist.

Alexander lets him explore as much as he wants... within reason of course. He's very proud of Conor and he showed him to his business partners several times. Some of them come now to the house to have dinner and bring their wives or children along too.

Alexander treats me very well. He's always pending that I have everything I need and I'm happy with my child.

* * *

Guntram left the pen aside and messed his hair. He didn't know what to write to let everything out of him without rising any suspicions. He looked at the carpet's direction and saw Conor, still sleeping surrounded by his teddy bears and covered by a light blanket.

'He's fine and that's all what matters. Constantin loves him as if he were his own. He wouldn't harm him,' Guntram thought and mechanically took the small alarm clock from his desk to set the alarm in an hour time before he would get his new pencils' box out of the glass cabinet where he stored all his material to prevent Konrad from eating it. 'This lapses are getting worse than before. I don't know what else to do to control them: Am I finally getting mad?'

Repressing a sigh, he took the sketch pad where he had been working the whole morning and fearfully opened it. He was very relieved when he saw that all the sketches were about the concept he had been working for the past month. 'It's getting better. Only one lapse in two weeks.' he told himself unconvinced. 'If Massaiev is not here, I can use the clock and control myself. It's just the stress. I have nothing to fear. Constantin will not hurt me or the boys as long as I do what he wants.'

'I can play his game. I really can.'

He noticed that the deep red pencil had lost its point and took the sharpener, hating that all the knives had been removed and he couldn't mould the point to his entire satisfaction. “What if Conor plays with them?” Constantin had told him and Guntram had been forced to accept the change. He sharpened the pencil and used a sandpaper to correct the round point before he began to work.

The clock's beeping made him jump from his chair and he hit it carelessly before his son would be woken up. He looked at the sketch pad and was glad that the images were what he had planned to do in the day. Feverishly he counted the pages and calculated that an average of twelve minutes per illustration was all right and he had not lost track of time.

He set the alarm once more.

* * *

“That's very nice. What is it?” Constantin asked as he put his arms around Guntram's shoulders and looked at the faces of four young teenage girls, obviously from the neighbourhood.

“I don't know who they are.” Guntram quickly answered, recovering from the shock of being embraced without a previous warning. “I thought I could use them as models for the stories I wanted to illustrate. I still haven't found my idea of how Basilissa should look.”

“Maybe they could do, but there's a family air between them. Cousins?”

“Perhaps. They were having a burger at the Mc Donalds'. I don't understand what they spoke,” Guntram answered meekly, inwardly praying Constantin would stop the interrogation there.

“We should wake up Conor. He has to see his present.”

“Present?”

“Did you forget that today is his birthday?” Constantin asked concerned.

“No! I just thought that he's too small to celebrate it. He's a baby still,” Guntram replied, trying to hide his embarrassment. 'Shit! I totally got wrong the date. That's why Massaiev disappeared in the morning! He must have gone to fetch something in the city.'

“Well, we can give him a very small piece of cake. His doctor said it's all right and he can stay up a bit longer tonight,” Constantin decided as he walked to the other end of the room to pick the sleeping baby up. “Hello, Con. Did you sleep well?” he asked with a gentle voice, trying to wake him up.

Konrad half opened his eyes, and groggily looked at the man holding him, only for a brief instant before he buried his face in the broad chest, hoping to continue to sleep. He seductively dedicated a smile to Constantin and the man chuckled very amused at the small one's tactics to get what he wanted.

“Not now, little one. Time to be active or tonight you will never go to bed,” he said in Russian. “With such a smile, women and men from all over Russia will come after you. Don't worry, I won't let them take you from us. You are our little sunshine.” He walked with the child in his arms to the door and passed him to his nanny, ordering her to clean and dress him with good clothes for the evening.

Guntram looked at the brief exchange in awe and cracked a smile when Constantin returned his attention to him.

“Why don't you get also dressed? After all it's his first birthday, angel.” He closed the distance between them and grabbed Guntram by the waist, easily pulling him against his chest. Without waiting for his reply, Constantin grabbed his chin and kissed him with passion, slightly increasing the pressure on the waist when he wanted to deepen the kiss. Satisfied with Guntram's passive reaction, he let him go.

“That beige, with light blue squares jersey, looks very good on you, angel. It enhances the colour of your eyes,” the Russian said softly and Guntram nodded silently, gulping when Constantin lost all interest on him and began to inspect his work. Unable to cope with the tension, he preferred to leave the studio.

* * *

Guntram rushed to the living room when he didn't find Constantin at his studio. He knocked on the white wooden door and the well known voice told him to come in.

“Wonderful as ever,” Constantin complimented him, holding a well groomed Konrad in his arms. “Do you want some champagne?”

“No, thank you,” Guntram answered curtly and tried to take the child in his arms but Constantin released him on the floor and the baby escaped from his father, looking at him astonished and slightly hurt by his need of independence.

“Let him be, Angel. At this age, everything but us is interesting.”

“Was that not at adolescence?” Guntram closed his eyes when Constantin laughed and kissed him on the forehead.

“No, now they still obey if you say don't touch,” he answered and Guntram smiled. “I have something for him.”

“He's too young to understand what a present is.”

“He's old enough to open one. In fact, he knows we are speaking about him,” he added, pointing to the baby now sitting and carefully watching both grown ups. “Con, come over here,” Constantin called him softly and the child crawled fast half of the way toward him but the shinning gold-ivory balls set as decoration over the coffee table distracted him and he changed his direction.”

“Well, almost achieved,” Constantin chortled and moved to fetch the baby. “I have something for you, young man.” He sat Conor on the leather couch and Guntram ran to sit next to him and hold him, afraid that he would fall to the floor. Constantin took a green with a yellow ribbon package and presented it to Conor. When Guntram leaned his body to help his son, he delicately moved him away with a “let him try alone first.”

Konrad looked at the box and tore the yellow ribbon and decidedly put it inside his mouth. “Well, maybe you have to help him,” Constantin sighed and Guntram opened the package by cutting the tape. Konrad watched with interest, leaving the ribbon aside and launched himself to help to tear the paper and eat the box.

“No, that's not your birthday present.” Constantin laughed good-heartedly, holding the baby while Guntram removed the lid and got a medium size fluffy red ball out.

The young man touched the soft material that reminded him of plush but felt slightly different. Konrad´s eyes lit at seeing the red ball and extended his tiny hands to take it, but Constantin was faster and put it on the floor, making it roll away as the baby almost jumped from his arms to go after it.

The Russian left Konrad on the floor and he crawled toward the desired object, standing in the middle of the room and flashing a light from its interior. When he was about to catch it, the ball magically escaped and Konrad cried in utter happiness running after it.

“What is this? It's magic.” Guntram chuckled. “I never saw anything like this before.”

“Nothing magical. I has a built in motion sensor. Every time he tries to catch it, it rolls away. This ball will keep him entertained for some thirty minutes.”

“Where did you get it?” he asked, taking Constantin's hand.

“At the company. Do you remember Piotr Vassilich? The one who has triplets? He helped me with the construction.”

“Did you do this for Con?”

“Winter is coming and he can't go out as much as he would like, angel.”

Guntram jumped to the man's neck and kissed him with gratitude. “It's a wonderful present, Alexander. Thank you.”

“It's guaranteed to make him tired by the end of the day,” Constantin answered smugly once he had returned the kiss. “Seven engineers and physicists worked to create this variant. The summer was a bit slow at the company. It was either making this or group playing Mafia Wars and I would hate to be defeated in a videogame.”

“How does it work? Where are the batteries?” Guntram asked when the ball rolled to his feet and he could pick it up and examine it.

“It uses kinetic motion and has a small battery inside. The original is called Socket and you're supposed to play and use the battery to connect a LED lamp or a water sterilizer device. We saw them at the Clinton Initiative and as the company is one of the sponsors, we got one or two as present and we gutted them in the old Russian way. It's a good idea but very expensive to produce and I don't see that it has much use for poor areas. This ball as toy could sell millions and buy real generators with the money, but we are engineers and not politicians. So, we gutted one and redesigned the interior to incorporate a LED light, the motion sensor, a small motor to make it roll and made the battery's capacity smaller because no child will stand more than half hour playing. To make it start, you just have to make it roll and the battery loads.”

“You made it?” Guntram asked perplexed.

“It was a very slow summer for all of us and we all have children. I think Illya is trying to get one strong enough for his teenage son and his iPod. I was thinking what to give Conor and I wanted something really special.”

“It's wonderful,” Guntram said in awe and looked how his child crawled everywhere after the ball. “Will he not get frustrated?”

“It stops in ten minutes more and he can catch it.”

“Toddlers would love it,” Guntram said.

“We have the international patent, but the cost of producing it is too high. Over fifty dollars per unit. Wouldn't sell many for Christmas. Who pays the price of a tablet for a ball?”

“Thank you very much.” Guntram kissed again Constantin and he grabbed the young man pulling him against his chest, enjoying how his head remained there.

Some minutes later the ball stopped and Konrad was able to grab it and kept it securely and firmly clutched as he sat in the middle of the room, glowing with satisfaction that he had defeated the ball. Guntram laughed at this.

“We can add to the description 'reinforces the child's self-confidence',” Constantin chortled. “He looks so proud after catching it.”

“It's a hellish invention, Alexander,” Guntram laughed. “Fortunately, it stops at some point.”

“It's the baby against the ball,” he joked. “He should learn that if he wants something, he should get it by himself, Angel.”

* * *

After dinner, Guntram was busy feeding his son with a small piece of cake, especially made for him, while his own portion laid untouched on his dish. He was smiling as Constantin told him the story of the drunken reindeer that once had tried to break into the company's office. “It was a very bad idea to plant those apple trees. The beasts get drunk on a regular basis now.”

The sound of large cars parking at the entrance stopped his story and his face changed into a stern expression. “Go to the room in the cellar, Angel,” he said quietly and Guntram picked Konrad in his arms and took the ball, ready to obey.

Guntram's path was blocked by an unknown man standing at the entrance and he gulped when the stranger waved in front of his face a semi-automatic weapon, indicating that he should return to his place.

Without checking with Constantin, Guntram walked to one side of the room, keeping his child against him, leaving free room to the Russian, remembering what had transpired in Paraguay not so long ago.

Four men more stormed into the room and Guntram noticed they were heavily armed with assault riffles, yet their stance didn't indicate him that they had been in the Army like all of Constantin's bodyguards.

A man, not older than his early thirties pushed through the attackers and stood in front of the large crystal-steel table, snarling with deep disgust and contempt to Constantin.

“So, you're Kuragin,” he said in English and Guntram was shocked. People spoke Russian and no one cared if he could understand or not. For a brief second he hoped the man had been sent by Konrad, but it was a short lived hope when he grimaced at his side. “And this must be your little whore. Isn't he a bit too old for this?”

Constantin didn't answer and only looked at the young man coldly. 'By all looks, new to the trade. Easy to deal with.' He held his impertinent gaze and relaxed even more in his chair.

“You have a birthday party and forgot to invite us?” he said with a smirk. “I thought people from the city were better than this.”

'An idiot. Speaks too much. These wild youths have so much to learn.' Constantin remained silent, enjoying how the men became slightly nervous at his calm demeanour. Using the table's reflection he checked that Guntram was heavily panting and clutching his baby who looked at everything in awe, but becoming more and more restless as he could smell his father's fear.

“Do you breed them too?” the man asked pointing at Guntram. “Is it not a waste of money? You can get a younger model whenever you want.”

“Quality is hard to find, sir,” Constantin answered gravely.

“And good friends too,” the other retorted. “You have no friends here and certainly you don't know a minimum of manners.”

“I'm afraid we were not introduced.”

“You forgot to pay your contribution to the teamsters union for the past four years. We were more than patient with you.”

“I'm afraid you're mistaken. I've already contributed to your cause. Ask Kresky.”

“He forgot to pay us and we are in charge now. It's four million roubles what you owe us.”

'Only that? He has no idea of who I am.' “That's a large sum, Mr. Korsakhov,” Constantin said evenly.

“How do you know my name?”

“You're quite famous in the area, but your price is too high for my finances.”

“Look, you faggot, you have till tomorrow to get the money or we will roast that baby to make you think!” Korsakhov shouted and one of the men jumped to Guntram hitting him on the face to rip Konrad from his arms. The young man fell to the floor and before he could stand up to recover his son, a man had put a weapon on his head. He remained frozen as his son yelled furiously.

“Your bitch is clever, Kuragin. We don't like faggots here, so it will be double for you. Eight millions roubles tomorrow night or you'll never see your baby again.”

“Very well, but I would appreciate that you take away the corpses on your way out, please.” Constantin said and Korsakhov saw two of his men being shot dead against the wall. Guntram rose his hands to his mouth to prevent a cry at the sight of the two bodies. 'He's crazy! Someone shot near my baby!' He looked at the astonished man still holding his baby and realised he would kill him without a single regret.

“What the fuck!” Korsakhov yelled but stopped when he saw a red light over his heart and the men pointing at him from the upper floor.

“Return the baby to my friend and we can speak business,” Constantin said from his sitting position, raising his voice over the wailing baby. “My men will stop aiming at you when Fedia leaves this room.”

“You're very mistaken if you think you can order here.”

“I do want to make business, but as you say, let's leave it for the men. Children have nothing to do here.”

Korsakhov moved his head and the man holding the struggling baby dropped him to the floor and Guntram ran to get him back in his arms. He pressed him against his chest and shushed him, caressing his soft hair, doing his best to comfort him from the fall.

“Go away, Fedia,” Constantin ordered him nonchalantly. “I have business to do.”

* * *

Guntram crossed the living room and watched in horror that two of Constantin's men were dragging a body out of the house. He placed his hand over his son's eyes and walked away faster than before.

“Easy, child. I have you now,” he heard Massaiev's voice. “Come with me to the rooms in the cellar. There's nothing for you here.”

“Who are they? How could they enter here?”

“Through the door. Let Mr. Kuragin deal with them,” Massaiev said taking him by the arm. “Is Conor all right?”

“They hurt him!” Guntram shouted and his son renewed his cries.

“That might hinder the negotiation, but he doesn't look hurt. Come with me.” He grabbed Guntram by the elbow and forced him to walk the stairs down to the underground part of the house, where the servants used to sleep, the home cinema was or for some reason Constantin kept five guest bedrooms.

Guntram was led to the biggest of them and he noticed that on top of the bed was Conor's favourite plush toy, a hare with long ears that Constantin had brought for him from the States some months ago. He looked at Massaiev in disbelief, still panting and very afraid.

“Change the baby into his nightclothes and you do the same too. You sleep here tonight. It's practically impossible to access this part of the house, Massaiev said curtly and turned around to give Guntram some privacy.

“Can you tell me what's going on?”

“As you know, they're negotiating and young people do rush things. Stay here where you're safe and don't worry about anything.”

“Don't worry?” Guntram shouted but one sharp look from Massaiev forced him to speak more softly. “What's going on?”

“I suppose there was a change in the leadership and this Korsakhov is the new boss in the area. He only wants to tax Mr. Kuragin or his trucks will start to experience some problems. Nothing unusual,” Massaiev answered without turning his back. “Could you take your night pill?”

The pounding headache helped Guntram to convince himself that this was not a nightmare but his reality. “This whole situation is absurd,” he mumbled.

“It's our way of doing business. Nothing to be concerned. Try to get some sleep.”

“Your way of doing business? Guntram repeated in shock. “With assault rifles and hurting children?”

“Russians are like cats, my boy. The more they meow, the more they love each other. You don't understand this, so leave it to Mr. Kuragin,” Massaiev said, sitting on the bed to play with Conor. He chuckled when he saw the baby take in his arms the large hare-bunny. “The toy is bigger than him but he doesn't give up. Why don't you take a warm shower before going to bed, Fedia? I can take care of him.”

Guntram looked at the old man in disbelief. How could he be so casual? He opened his mouth to tell his opinion but his mind forced him to bit his lips hard before his mouth could say something he will regret later.

“Fine,” he mumbled and took his pyjamas from under the pillow, noticing that Constantin's were also there. 'He plans to move in too. Oh joy!'

Inside the bathroom he left the water run hot till it scalded his skin but he didn't care. 'I can't continue with this. I have to get out before someone hurts my Konrad. The year is over. Constantin has to let us go.'

He redressed with the nightclothes and returned to the bedroom to find his son partly asleep, clutching his bunny, while Massaiev was telling a story in Russian. He gulped and nervously smiled to the man and waited till he was finished.

“Do you see, Fedia? He's fine again. Try to relax you and he will forget all by tomorrow. Babies don't know what weapons are but they can smell your fear. Calm down and he will be fine,” Massaiev whispered as he pulled the covers around Conor.

* * *

The bed cracked under a new weight and Guntram woke up startled, jumping away from the hands that were touching him. He sighed relieved when he recognised Constantin's form.

“It's just me, Angel. Go back to sleep,” he mumbled tiredly and delicately patted Conor's head.

“Have you been drinking?” Guntram asked when he smelled the strong odour of vodka coming from Constantin's breath.

“How do you close a deal in Russia? Not with a samovar,” he answered with an ironic smile. “Relax, Angel. We have a deal now.”

“With a gangster?”

“I can't kill them all. This is my land and I don't shit where I eat, Angel. It's just a temporary solution.”

“Which is?”

“I pay him three million roubles for his services with the unionists and he provides some security for me. It's a good arrangement for all of us. He will also clean the mess upstairs,” Constantin said tiredly. “Now, let me sleep.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“Are you planning to have them around? A man who comes here with weapons and threatens my child?”

“Conor is mine, too. He left with three men less. He also learned how I play. Bribing him is cheaper than finishing him. We spoke long and agreed on the money. I can't throw people into a batch full of acid in my own backyard!” he whispered furiously and Guntram recoiled in the bed. “This is not Latin American and he has connections with the local police. I will solve this problem when I can do it in a discreet way. Do you want me to start blowing up cars?”

“No,” Guntram whispered looking very pale and afraid.

“Then, let me do business as I know. I was on the top, remember? I know how to get there. I only need to reinforce this idiot's power here so he defends the territory from larger predators. If they come, they will kill him first. Let's say, I just bought a new defence line.”

“How can you be so cold? He hurt Conor!”

“His people will not lay a finger on you or he any longer. They just met some of Dima's friends and have learned the rules. We will have no further problems. You stay with Massaiev or Dima.” He turned around in the bed. “Conor is my son too. I will do anything in this world to protect him and you. I swear I will not let anyone rob you again from me. Is that clear, Guntram?” he asked clearly punctuating the name.

“I understand, Constantin,” he whispered, trying to ignore the knot of fear nesting in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

October 20^th, 2011

'Perhaps it's the fading sunlight what drives him nervous,' Massaiev thought, looking at Guntram very concerned. 'He was much better in the summer and now, he's more and more distant again, forgetting things, having those memory lapses or painting strange things. Maybe the lack of UV rays has this effect upon him. He comes from a sunny place and for some reason he's terrified of the winter here.'

From his sitting position in the garden, covered by the first snow, he watched how Konrad was rolling on the snow and giggling as he played with the soft snowflakes. 'He, on the other hand, is more used to this,' he thought proudly. 'A real fine example of a child. Perhaps Fedia was like this before his father dumped him in the boarding school.'

'Fedia is growing restless and I don't understand why. He has no reason to fear this Korsakhov people. The boss told him, they were going to move in time. Maybe to the States again. Boss likes Boulder, Seattle or Aspen and they're good cities to rise a child. Or maybe we go to Montreal. It would be good to hear some French again.'

With some difficulty he rose from the cold bench and felt a pang on his back. 'I'm getting old. If this continues, I'll be hired as grandfather very soon. In fact, boss starts to joke about it.' “Fedia!” he called out loud. “It's lunchtime for Conor!”

“I'm coming,” Guntram answered, picking up from the floor his covered with snow son. He approached the man, shaking off the snow form the suit. “Maybe I should change him before.”

“That's right, give him to Galina. She can do it.” Massaiev said jovially. “This woman does nothing the whole day. Not good.”

“You're too stern, Mikhail Petrovich,” Guntram commented with a smile as he walked toward the house.

“I've soften over the years, believe me,” he chuckled. “You should have seen me when I was young.”

Guntram's laughter died on his lips when three unknown men blocked his path and circled him.

“Well, here's the little bitch we have to baby sit,” one of them said in Russian.

“Get out of here,” Massaiev grunted.

“Or what, old man?” another one smirked. “Come on, princess, go home. It's too cold for you,” he said in English.

“You will address Mr. Tarasov with respect or your contract will be terminated,” Massaiev grunted and came closer to the man as the other two loudly sneered.

“With people like you, Kuragin desperately needs a new security team around,” one of them snickered.

“We'll see.” Massaiev pulled Guntram from the sleeve as he stood rooted in the earth, looking at the men terrified.

“Nice baby, how much did you pay for him?” One of them casually asked and Guntram looked at him in horror. “Good to have a sugar daddy like yours, but maybe he changes you for a younger model, don't you think, Medved?”

“I've heard the bitch is also sick and the brat cries all night. Best Kuragin can do is selling him to recover part of the money,” the man commented contemptuously.

Guntram breathed raggedly, listening to the men laughing.

“I'll report your behaviour,” Massaiev barked and pulled much stronger than before from Guntram's sleeve. The young man was petrified as he clutched his son very strongly. 'Not now, child. These are just bumps. Nothing to worry about.' With great effort, the old man could drag Guntram away and inside the house.

“You should not worry about them. I'll speak with Mr. Kuragin, tonight,” he said and Guntram looked at him sadly. “They will have no contact with you.”

Guntram remained silent, fighting against the fear. 'What if they take my child? They're not Constantin's men.'

“Child!” Massaiev shook him from his catatonic state. “Go upstairs and give Conor to the nanny. He's dripping water all over the place.”

“Yes, you're right,” he mumbled and went away.

* * *

'Constantin can't protect Konrad if he's never here. He's always away in his company or travelling. I'm alone with Massaiev or Dima and his two men. Defeating them that night was sheer luck. They outnumber us,' Guntram thought in his studio, watching his son sleep after lunch.

'I have to go away. The year is over. Constantin should let me go.'

His door was jerked open and the large man, built like a bear, Medved walked with long strides inside the room and began to inspect Guntram's paintings.

“Nice stuff. I thought you were one of those people who doodle or throw paint to the canvas and pose it as art, but these landscapes are good.”

“Please, leave this room. My son is sleeping here.”

“Really princess?” the man smirked. “We should be friends if we are going to be together.” He closed the space between them. “You're not bad looking, after all.”

“Get out,” Guntram growled.

“Play nice and we can reach a deal between us. You don't want anything bad happening to your bastard, don't you?”

“Get out.”

“Suit yourself, princess. Don't cry later if the little bastard has an accident. Your daddy can't hold your hand all the time, and there, I'll get you. Kuragin is just a faggot with money and paid the boss without any complaints. Maybe he asks that he hands his pet over us. Ever been in a gang bang? Very funny for us.”

Guntram fixed his eyes on the man but he was not impressed by the look of pure fury. “Shit, you're something when you're pissed. Fucking you is gonna be real fun,” he chortled and left the room.

Fear gripped his heart and Guntram felt his eyes clouded. Without thinking he walked toward the crib and gently took the sleeping boy in his arms. Konrad continued to sleep undisturbed by the change. Guntram went to the baby's room and dressed him with his thick coat and boots. He took his own coat from the closet and walked the stairs down.

He left the house through the kitchen door, from where the maids have fled when the rude men had taken it by assault after lunch. Guntram passed through them like a whirlwind and the gangsters didn't care about him, busy with their talk.

Still gripping his son, Guntram walked as if he were in a dream, only thinking to reach the city and leave the place. He had no plan, no idea of where he was but he was confident that if he walked the path through the forest to the main road, he would find someone who could take him to Khanty Mansiysk.

The snow made the walking difficult, but he continued to cross the white immensity without pausing, aware that his child was in danger, not minding about the cold or how quickly the sunlight was fading. He only walked faster, stubbornly ignoring the slight pain pinching his chest.

Time ceased to exist for him as he walked through the forest, by the road, knowing that he was getting near the main road and once there, his child would be safe. He ignored the jackdaws warning squawks as he walked, doing his best to keep his son, deeply asleep, warm.

He almost missed the black van cutting his path. Guntram looked at it and almost began to run afraid of the driver, but Dima Klatschko jumped out of the vehicle and shouted him to stop.

“Are you crazy boy? Where're you going? Don't you know the temperature drops well below zero after the sun is away?” He yelled as he approached Guntram. “If Mr. Kuragin finds you here, you're dead! Give me child!”

“No!” Guntram shouted and tried to run away but Dima caught him by the collar as if he were nothing but a puppy. With ease, he punched the young man to the ground but caught the baby before he would hit the ground.

The lack of crying from the infant paralysed the man's heart with fear. 'Please, let he be alive, it wasn't that cold,' he repeated inside and walked fast back to the car, strongly rubbing the child's sides.

He opened the passenger's door and laid the small body on the seat and continued to rub his fervently, noticing how pale his face was and that his lips were blue. 'If he dies, boss will kill us all.'

Guntram ran to the car and tried to move the man away from his son, but Dima pushed him away more violently than before. “You're insane! Who takes a child out in this weather? You may have well killed him!”

“Give him to me!”

“No! Get in the fucking car and give me a blanket. We have to get him warm again or he will die!” The Russian shouted, fighting against his desire of beating Guntram to death. “What kind of idiot are you?” he yelled again.

“I'm going home!”

“What? You're crazier than anyone thought! You're delusional. What was your big plan? Walking till you freeze? This child is frozen and will die if we don't get him warm!”

Guntram looked at him in horror and without thinking he took off his coat and wrapped it around Konrad and pressed him around his chest.

“Stop that! Let me feel his pulse,” the man said and took the small wrist with two fingers. “It's very weak and fast,” he evaluated. “We have to get him to the house and call his doctor. Get in the car!” he ordered and Guntram obeyed him.

As Dima circled the van to drive away, the well known form of a black Bentley made him freeze in his place. He gulped as Constantin descended from his car and approached the SUV.

“What are you doing here?” he growled in Russian as he had still not seen Guntram and the child.

“I'm returning home, sir,” Dima said very nervously.

Constantin fixed his black eyes on Klatschko and saw how the man was becoming more and more nervous.

“Home?”

“With Fedia, yes,” Dima admitted.

Constantin turned around and walked to the passenger's side and opened the door to find Guntram and the baby wrapped in the coat. He immediately realised that the child was well below his normal temperature and tore him from Guntram's arms.

“What did you do?” he growled in a feral way after he touched the still cold baby. “His skin is frozen.”

“I wanted to go home,” Guntram whispered and tried to get his son back but Constantin held him firmly as his two bodyguards ran to his side.

Without saying a word, Constantin passed the child to one of his men and whispered something in Russian and the men rushed to the Bentley, carrying the baby away. He watched how the car drove away, trying to calm himself but he couldn't. He turned around, his face contorted from the fury and Guntram took several steps backwards till his back hit with the car, sure that Constantin would kill him right there.

Constantin walked toward him and hit him with a mind blowing blow that threw him to the floor. Without giving his time to recover, Constantin crouched on the snow and caught the youth by the neck and hit his head against the car several times, squeezing the throat till Guntram felt his lungs on fire.

With another punch, Constantin released him and stood up. “You're crazy!” he shouted. “I'll make you pay for this and this time, you'll learn what I do to traitors!”

“Constantin!” Guntram yelled.

“Sir, he wasn't thinking straightforward,” Dima interfered fearfully. “Massaiev told me the new men hassled him on the morning. He had nothing with him and was walking alone.”

“He could have killed my son!” Constantin yelled and Dima bent his head down, terrified of being Repin's next target. Constantin ignored his henchman and faced Guntram again. “Is that how you want to play? You kill my boy and that's your revenge? Well, I will kill the other two.”

“They wanted to kill him!” Guntram shouted. “I was saving him!”

“Stupid animal!” Constantin roared, smashing the frail body against the car again. “I'm going to show you your place! I'm ordering Lintorff's bastards to be killed tonight if something happens to Conor.”

“No!! I don't know what happened to me!” Guntram cried. “He told me Conor was going to have an accident if I didn't do what he wanted!”

“Who?”

“I don't know! He was fine! He was just asleep!”

“You fall to sleep before you freeze to death,” Constantin said very slowly, recovering part of his normal demeanour. “His lips were blue. Pray that he's fine when we get home or I'll make you pay dearly. You hurt him to take revenge on me!”

“His my son! Do you think I would hurt him, you asshole!” Guntram yelled back and Constantin backhanded him very strongly but Guntram was out of himself and punched him on the stomach as he launched his body against the Russian.

Dima watched very shocked how the small man collided with full force against his well trained boss, making him fall on his back as Guntram used all his weight to pin him down and hit him in the face. 'There's something true about calling him Sable,' he thought but dashed to get the boy away from his boss.

'He's totally crazy,' Constantin thought, but refrained himself from hitting Guntram back. 'I could snap his neck but what then?' and only repelled the attack. While Dima was pulling from the furious Guntram to remove him from his boss, the young man simply collapsed on top of Constantin's chest.

Constantin moved him aside and took the boy's pulse on the artery, concerned that all had been too much for Guntram and that he was finally going to die in the middle of nowhere.

“Is it a heart attack?” Dima asked anxiously.

“No, he has an ICD. It should control the arrhythmia and prevent the heart attack.”

“Boss, people with such things also die.”

“We take him home and call his doctor,” Constantin said slightly shaking Guntram to make him come back to his senses but he was oblivious. Constantin scooped him in his arms and Dima ran to open the SUV's door for him.

* * *

The young doctor closed the bedroom door and faced the distressed man standing in front of him. 'Sverdloff told me he was a difficult customer, and he was damn right.' “Mr. Tarasov's heart condition is stable, sir. He needs to rest tonight.”

“What happened? He fainted just like this.”

“He's very tired and I will tell you more when I have his blood tests results. The heart is fine, although he looks very tired and stressed. Was he under a stressful situation lately? That might well explain the fainting. He's also suffering from anaemia, but I want confirmation before I prescribe something for it.”

“He was out walking in the snow. I assume some five or six kilometres.”

“With this weather and with his condition? No, he should not do it and he should eat better. He's underweight and I'm going to prescribe him some more vitamins. Tomorrow or the day after, he should come to my office and we will check the ICD's records.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Constantin said. “The driver will take you home.”

Constantin waited till the doctor disappeared from his view before he entered in the room. 'Finally it happened. Massaiev was right. He can't be trusted with a child. But if I take Conor away from him, he will die of sorrow. I have to tame him once more and get something for his depressions. It's getting out of control and he could hurt himself once more.'

He sat on the bed and looked at the sleeping man. 'The doctor must have given him something. Good, will not give me troubles for the time being.' He bent his body over the bed to kiss Guntram and he woke up.

“How is Conor?” Guntram asked fearfully.

“Fine, sleeping in his crib. His doctor was here and she says he will have to stay inside the house for some days. She thinks there will be no further consequences.”

“I didn't want to do it. I don't know what happened to me.”

“You could have killed him.” Constantin said very slowly 'Good, he's not crying for the Lintorff bastards sake.'

“I didn't realise it. I swear Constantin that I never planned this. I just knew I had to go to protect him.”

“Fedia, you're always afraid of cold. Why did you walk out in the snow? Where were you planning to go without money?”

“I don't know,” a devastated Guntram murmured. “Do you think I am crazy? Tell me the truth, Constantin.”

“Alexander, Fedia.” Constantin corrected him. “Your behaviour is erratic sometimes and simply impossible to understand. You have these lapses when you lose time or draw things you don't remember. Your depressions worsen in the Winter season.”

“Do you think I am a schizophrenic?”

“I'm not a psychiatrist, Angel,” Constantin answered very softly. “But schizophrenia is something very serious and with many more symptoms than those you have. No, I think you are still stressed over your current situation and refuse to accept it.”

Guntram remained silent and fixed his gaze upon the bedclothes. “The year is over, my friend,” he said softly. “I want to go home.”

“So that's all?” Constantin asked very calmly and Guntram hoped he would honour his part of the deal.

“I guess so,” he mumbled. “I did my best to please you but you know that I don't love you. We are nothing but friends who share a bed.”

“Is that so bad?”

“It's not the same as love. You told me I could go home after a year. I don't want to stay here. It's not safe for Conor.”

“What do you want to do? Take the next plane back to Zurich?” Constantin asked sweetly.

“Would you let me do it?”

“How do you plan to tell Lintorff where you have been living since June 2009 or with whom you have been sleeping with? Ah, let's don't forget the year old little blonde problem you have to show him,” Constantin snarled. “Ah, one more thing. What are you going to tell him about those marks in your arm?”

“Konrad will understand me,” Guntram whispered feeling very sick.

“Why do you say it's not safe for our child to be here?” Constantin asked and Guntram cringed when he heard the clear “our child” pronounced.

“I fear these men.”

“Why?”

“They're brutal and they don't answer to you. They think you're no one and that they can squeeze all the money they want from you; that you would pay for the baby if they do something to him. They're criminals and I don't want him near them!” Guntram shouted the final words.

“So your solution for this minor problem is to run away and take my son away from me? Run to my worst enemy and give him what's rightfully mine?” Constantin said very slowly.

“You gave me your word!”

“Circumstances have changed. If you want, go away. I don't care any longer. I have enough of you and your tantrums. But Conor stays here. He's as mine as yours and I will not give him up.”

“You can't do this! He's my child!” Guntram shouted.

“The same child you almost killed today. You're unfit to be a parent. Maybe you're a mental case, maybe not but the consequences for him would have been the same. Freezing to death. I created this life, not you, and I will not let you endanger his life. Is that clear enough for your troubled mind?”

“I can take care of him!”

“He stays here, Fyodor and you should better earn your right to be near him,” Constantin growled taking him from the wrists with a strong grip. “I saved your life, gave you the child and this is how you repay me? Very well, Guntram. If you think you can take care of him on your own, you'll work for his keep.”