Who the fuck is L?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
A guy meets another guy in Iraq, and send him in a container with monkeys to Ukraine. But few months later again meets the same guy in Yemen.

Submitted: November 24, 2016

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Submitted: November 24, 2016

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Who the fuck is L.?!! (Names mean nothing)

It was a freeze morning in Bagdad back in January 2011. Usually the temperature does not go below 10+ Celcius this time of the year, but that day it was -3Celcius. Bagdadians were wearing unusually long and huge wool robes that I did not see in past. I was walking down the street with the full amo and a F-16 rifle hanging on my back as always. The only thought I had right now is to drink a cup of hot Arabica coffee.

Last night was a nightmare. We were cleaning suburbs of Bagdad from some rebels. We lost 3 guys in that fight but managed to shoot more than 20 crazy terrorists. Not all them were Arabians. A bunch of crazy people from across the globe. But we finally cleaned the village. And, yes, today is a year since I arrived to Iraq under the contract with Black River Company. This is a private organization retained by a US gov’t to unofficially clean Iraq from the rebellions.

I entered my favorite cafe on the corner of the former Saddam Hussein (now the street is called George Bush avenue) street and the prospect of Freedom. In that early morning there were just few unshaved Arabs sitting there enjoying their morning coffee. The smell of strong Arabica woke me up immediately. I was walking through the row of chairs to the cashier desk when one of the Arabs suddenly turned to me and said in English: “Excuse me, Sir! I think I know you. We studied together”. I had no desire to talk to some crazy Arab not knowing what he had on his mind but automatically replied: “Really? Where?”

  • MGIMO finished! 2002 MP, - he replied!

I shaked. Damn! I am here under deep cover. With a different name. But the guy really recognized me, I had to admit. Having an internal struggle if I should deny or admit the fact of “MGIMO finished” I don’t know why but I replied: “Interesting! And what’s my name?”

  • I don’t remember! I forgot your name! Names meen nothing! Remember what Zharkovskiy said?! (Of course I remembered that deep thought by famous Russian philosopher Konstantin Zharkovskiy!) But I remember your face! I even forgot my own name. Now I know myself as Vick Jones. This is the name I decided to call myself when I forgot my real name. So, what is your name? – he asked.
  • Call me Mike. Mike Rogers, - I replied. I did not have any desire to share my real name with this guy. Moreover, I started recalling his face. He really was on our course in MGIMO.
  • Ok, Vick! Nice to see you here, I would like to say. Man! You look pale. Red eyes! What happened to you? And what are you doing in this café? –I asked.
  • Well, - started Vick and lightered a cheap cigarrete, - I graduated from MGIMO with an average grade of 4,6 which is quite high (it is high I admitted in my mind, my grade was lower). I am not sure if you remember but I was a kind of nerd studying and playing computer all day long. I know that you was a popular guy at the university having crazy orgies with super models from Red Star model agency in your penthouse on the tallest skyscraper in Moscow. You was hanging with Bruce Dickinson and the guys from Iron Maiden. All guys at the course were jealous with you. And me too… Anyway after the university I joined MID. They wanted to send me to Kirgiziya, I rejected. Next time they requested me to go to Iraq. I could not object once again otherwise they would kick me off from MID, and that would ruin my diplomatic career. So, I had to agree. I came to Bagdad in 2003 and started working in Russian embassy as a third secretary. Then Americans invaded Iraq. The war started. Bagdad was on fire. One day, you probably heard this, rebels attacked Russian embassy. Our troopers managed to evacuate people. The only person who did not manage to escape was me.
  • How did it happen?!!! – I interrupted Vick.
  • Well, in the basement of Russian embassy there used to be a playground with play machines. I was playing online poker that night when evacuation happened. So when everybody was evacuated, they did not find me thinking that I already escaped. And basically they forgot me in the basement. – Vick made a sip of a coffee and smoked a cigarette for a few seconds.
  • When I came out of the basement I found that the embassy is completely destroyed. And the outside territory is controlled by the rebels. I decided to hide in the basement. I went down again. Blocked the door to the basement from inside. There were enough canned food, surprisingly water and light worked fine, toilet was functioning. And the most amazing was that Internet was active!! – Vick continued his story.
  • It is insane, Vick! Today is 2011. You went to the basement in 2003. What did you do all these 8 years? – I asked.
  • Well. First, I played computer games, watched porn. Then I decided to teach French online. Some of my former classmates from MP 2002 were happy to see me online and used my services. I taught French to them via Skype, and they paid money to my online account. I was telling everybody that I am sitting in my apartment in Moscow in Lyublino while I was sitting in the blocked basement of the Russian embassy in Bagdad. From time to time I was receiving information from my friends in Moscow that they saw me or even hanged with me in Moscow, but it was not me. It was my clone! My clone, fucking zombie, replaced me in hangouts with my friends in Moscow. I even talked to my clone via Skype one time – his real name is “Chyorniy Rieltor Starik Bomzh”. Then because of loneliness something happened to me and I recalled that in MGIMO I was a friend with one lady. Her last name was L. Do you remember her? – Vick asked.
  • No, Vick. I do not remember her. Frankly speaking I do not remember most of the people from MGIMO. As soon as the person comes out from your daily sight you usually forget the person. Strict truth of life… Sometimes it happens fast, sometimes it takes longer to forget somebody. It depends on the level of your communication and engagement with this person. Well, you know Vick, one day after this secret mission I will definitely register on Facebook and find the people I knew in MGIMO. Anyway, Vick, go on. Who is L? – I replied.
  • I am not sure. I don’t remember as well. I think I was dating her. But I am not sure. In these 8 years of loneliness in the basement I became a psychic. I can foresee the  future. I can tell everything about people. For example I can say everything about you – kids, married, car etc. – Vick intrigued me.
  • Ok, Vick, go ahead! – I was interested.
  • You are divorced. Twice. You have 8 kids from 3 different women. You drive OKA car. Your favorite clothes brand is Valentin Yudashkin. Your favorite singers are Philip Kirkorov and Vitas. You like watching TV channel Perets and DOM DVA on TNT. You wrote the text for a song of the band called Molten Mirror. – Vick was looking at me with the look of a victor.
  • How did you do that? Wow! Amazing! – I did not want to upset Vick and pretended that he is right while he got 0% on target…except for the fact that I really wrote a text for one song of Molten Mirror.
  • Just practicing this everyday. No secret. Work, work, work every day. – Vick answered, - Do you want us to switch to Russian? ?? ?? ????????? ???????? ??? ?????? ? ??????? ???? ?????? ?? ??????. ?????? ??????? ??????????? ????????????? ????? ?????.
  • Not to worry, Vick. We can continue in English. I see that you forgot Russian, that’s ok. How did you manage to escape from the basement? I see that you are sitting in a café on George Bush Avenue in the center of Bagdad drinking tasty coffee. – I wondered.
  • Well… sitting in the basement I started learning Arabian. I managed to learn it in 8 years. Now I speak fluent Arabian, so I can pretend to be one of them. One day I came out of the basement. There were no rebels already, no guards near the embassy. I walked through the streets smiling and talking to people in Arabian. I came to this café and now I am sitting in this café drinking tasty coffee. – Vick smiled.
  • Wow! I can not believe this. When did you get out of the basement?
  • Today….
  • What?
  • Yes, I went into this café 5 minutes before you did…
  • Fuck! Today is your first day out of the basement in 8 years!!?
  • Yes….- Vick smiled…… – But please, please, Mike, help me to get back to Moscow. I am getting mad from all this shit. I think that only you can help me. – begged Vick, I need to find the answer in Moscow: “Who the fuck is L.??”
  • Well, Vick, I don’t know. I really do not exist here. I am on a secret mission. Undercover. I work for some organization….I can not tell you which one,  - I thought for a second, -Well (I decided to help Vick), listen Vick, there will be a smuggle container going from Basra port to Odessa, Ukraine with 20 tonnes of drugs and 100 illegally seized monkeys inside. I can talk to the guys in the port. We can put you inside the container and send to Odessa. From there you can easily get to Moscow. –I offered.
  • What if they open the container and find me?! Arabs will kill me! – Vick was scared.
  • Don’t worry. The container will be sealed with a special seal of our organization. Nobody can open it. They know this. If they open it they will be killed by our organization. I bet you will have great time with a lot of dope and human alike beings around you. There would be 1 week of a fun journey. – I assured Vick.
  • Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!!! – Vick cried. He was unsure if he can do it. Then he took a decision. – Ok, I am ready. But promise me, Mike, if I do not make it to Odessa, promise me, brother, you will find the answer to the question: “Who the fuck is L.?”
  • Promise you, brother. – I said. – Promise, you bro, if you do not arrive to Moscow, I will complete your mission: I will find who the fuck L. is!!!

 

……………….

March 2015. Yemen. Small village near Sana. My unit is cleaning this village from rebellious husitos together with Saudi troops. We are moving slowly by three: first guy with the armored shield and an Uzi ahead, second guy with a F-16 on the shoulder of the first guy, third guy is watching the back. Second and third numbers working back to back. In the richest home of this village we found a peaceful Yemen arab sitting near the big golden table on a golden chair with a harem of 40 wives and 160 kids. The guy is smiling to me and waving his hand.

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!! VICK??!!

  • Hey, Mike, have not seen you for ages! – Arab says. – How is everything?
  • Vick, motherfucker! What are you doing here? I sent you in a sealed container with drugs and monkeys to Ukraine. How did you get here? – To say that I am shocked – to say nothing.
  • Well.. The ship after departing from Iraq was seized by Somalian pirates. They brought my container to Mogadisho. When the opened it I told them that they opened a  special container and now everybody will be killed. The guys looked at the broken seal of your organization and were shocked. They asked me if I can fix their situation. I said if you let me go I will go to this secret organization and will fix everything. They let me go and on a fish boat I got to Yemen and got in love with this country: desserts, camels, polygamy, girls, girls, girls – Vick looked very happy. – Now I am a head of this village, I have 40 wives and 160 kids. I don’t care who the fuck is L. any longer!!!
  • Good for you, man!
  • Anyway my guys are planning to secretly deliver me to Moscow next week. Have you ever eaten a dog? – Vick changed the topic. He looked like a sharp Arabian mobster.
  • No. Why?
  • I want to eat a dog. You know all this kids’ stuff – cockraines, brains of monkeys, all this shit is kindergarten for me. I want to eat a good saucy Moscow dog. There are no dogs left in Yemen, arabs ate all the dogs. But I really really want to try it. The best place they cook them is one secret Korean restaurant in Moscow. Wanna join me? – Vick asked. Coincidentally I was planning to take a vacation next week to visit in Moscow. Zharkovskiy and I were planning to invite few other friends to the restaurant to discuss some business ideas. So Vick’s offer coincided with my plan.
  • Yes, man, lets do it! Lets eat the dog! – I replied.
  • Good! See you in Moscow. My people will send you the address. And yes, you will be surprised by the fact I finally found who the fuck L. was! – the intrigue started by Vick… And don’t forget to wear a T-shirt: Molten Mirror 2015: Who the fuck is L? Ok?
  • Promise you bro! – I replied.

We captured a couple of radical husitos that day. But I really lost concentration. Thanks to my team, they really saved my ass in this clearance. My mind was completely occupied by the story of Vick Jones: rise and fall, or more properly would be fall and rise of a mafia boss in the Arabian deserts. Why? How? Is it possible? Just a nerd from “MGIMO finished” controlling richest oil fields in Yemen?!! How?!! All looked like an insane dream… And yes,  I really was looking for our “dog” dinner with Vick to find out: WHO THE FUCK IS L.??!!!

 

13.04.2015


© Copyright 2017 Mike Rogers. All rights reserved.

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