Born Bad - Part 7
#7 of Born Bad
The Mortenson brothers finally regained consciousness after having cold water splashed on them. Coughing, and suffering from massive headaches, Marv and Sean realized that they were no longer in the shitty section of town where they had killed the cougar after robbing him blind. They'd been thrown in a bathtub in someone's house. Looking up, the wolves saw two mean looking lions staring down at them. Though he had no idea where he was or how he'd been brought her, Marv stared back at the lions, letting them know he wasn't afraid of them. Sean was shivering in fear.
"Who the fuck are you two assholes?" growled the older wolf.
"Shut your fucking mouth, wolf," ordered the bigger of the two lions. "Unless you want another crowbar upside your head."
Marv reached inside his shorts, trying to get his gun to kill both the lions. The same lion that had ordered him to keep quiet now smiled at him, pulling Marv's gun and Sean's out of his own pocket.
"Looking for these?" taunted the lion. "You don't think we're so stupid that we'd leave you bastards armed, do you?"
Sean, wet and shivering, had to fight the urge to cry. "What are you going to do with us?"
"That's up to Mr. Andropov," snarled the other lion before cackling. "My guess is you're going to end up in a landfill outside the city limits."
Undeterred by what seemed like an inevitable fate, Marv kept glaring at the two lions, wishing that he could get his gun or Sean's and blast them. Death didn't scare the older Mortenson brother. He'd lived in a tough neighborhood his entire life, had to learn to fight at a young age. If he was going to die now, he sure as hell wouldn't die begging for his life like a pathetic little bitch. He'd die like a real man. Maybe he could even take one of these shithead lions with him.
The door to the bathroom opened, a third lion poked his head in. "Mr. Andropov will see them now."
The other two lions grabbed hold of the wolves. Marv struggled to get free, but found that the bigger lion was simply too strong for him to break loose. Walking down the hall, both brothers could see that they were in what must be a very elegant home. There were Persian rugs on the floor, expensive oil paintings on the wall. It was nothing like what they were used to. The third lion was ahead of them, standing next to wooden double doors. As soon as they got close, he opened the doors which lead into an enormous office. With their arms behind their backs, Marv and Sean took in the view of the office, seeing several bookcases, more oil paintings and an American flag hanging on the wall. The stereo inside the office was playing "I Heard It Through The Grapevine" as a figure sitting at a desk with his chair facing the wall was singing in a deep, gravely voice. Both boys could tell their was something very different about the figure's voice. He possessed some foreign accent, but seemed to sing in English fairly well.
"Here you are, Mr. Andropov," said the third lion, leaving the room. The other lions stood behind Marv and Sean, who were now standing on a tarp in front of the desk. They watched as an arm reached over to where the stereo was and turned it off. The chair swiveled around to face them. There, sitting in the chair was a large white tiger; his eyes green and his face having only a look of semi-seriousness about it. He wore a Dallas Cowboys football jersey and blue jeans. Grinning, he picked up a smoking cigar that was lying on an ashtray. Inhaling it, he slowly, calmly breathed out the smoke.
"I am Sergei Andropov," said the white tiger in his strange accent. "My crew tells me you killed one of my dealers tonight, no?"
"Yeah," Marv said nonchalantly. This didn't go unnoticed by Sergei.
"And what do you think I will do with you, hmmm?"
"Probably kill us," said Marv with a casual shrug. Sergei looked over at Sean.
"This one is not as brave as you," he observed.
"He's kind of a pussy still," observed Marv, getting a nasty look from his brother. Sergei was amused, laughing at Marv's words. He poured himself a glass of vodka and slowly drank it down.
"What is your name, brave wolf?" inquired the white tiger.
"Marvin Mortenson, and thats my brother Sean. Everybody calls me Marv, though."
Sergei's eyes lit up at the mention of Marv's name. "Marvin? Ah, like Marvin Gaye. Great American singer," he said, then sighed deeply, shaking his head. "His father shot him in the head. How very sad."
Marv could see that he was winning some favor with Sergei, deciding to ask him a question. "Are you a gangster, Mr. Andropov?"
The bigger lion behind him raised his paw, ready to smack Marv for asking such a question, but Sergei raised his paw, telling him no. Taking another puff from his cigar, the white tiger explained himself. "I am originally from Russia, where I worked for the KGB. I came to America ten years ago to find my fortune, but I got my fortune the way I wanted it." He looked deeply at Marv. "What do you know about Russia, Marv?"
"Not much," admitted the wolf. In truth, the only thing he'd ever heard about Russians were that they were "commies" and "reds", whatever the fuck that meant. That, and the weather there. "I heard it's cold there."
"Very, very, cold," said Sergei. "The weather here is much more pleasant," he looked down at his desk, seeing another empty glass. Pouring the bottle of vodka into it, he offered it to the older wolf. "Here, let's see how tough you are."
Marv took the glass, lifting it up in the air and quickly downing the contents. He slammed the glass on the desk, much to Sergei's surprise. He looked at the empty glass, then Marv. "Can you do that again?"
"Sure," said Marv. "Hit me."
Sergei poured him another glass, and Marv did it just like before. Sergei clapped, impressed with the the young wolf's bravado. "Very good, Marv," he said. "And to answer your question, I am a businessman who knows how to motivate others, if you know what I mean."
Marv, his head still hurting, but feeling better from the vodka, grinned. "I think I do, Mr. Andropov. You live life free."
Grinning, the white tiger pointed a paw at Marv. "You are very perceptive, Marv. I'm living the American Dream."
Sean couldn't take it anymore, he had to ask. "Are you going to kill us?"
The white tiger shook his head. "No, dear boy, because you actually did me a favor tonight. Do you know what that might be?"
Marv quickly answered. "That cougar was skimming off the top, wasn't he?"
"Again, you are very perceptive, Marv. Yes, that motherfucker was stealing from me. I was about to have him," he paused, trying to think of something. "Bobby," he said pointing at the larger lion. "What's the word those Italian mobsters use?"
"Whacked," answered Bobby.
"Yes," said Sergei. "I was about to have him whacked anyway. You saved me the trouble. His brother is also stealing from me. Bobby, Frankie, go get that piece of shit cougar."
The two lions left the room, coming back a minute later with a screaming and yelling cougar. Sergei glared hatefully at the cougar, pointing his paw at him. "Your bastard brother thought he could rob me, and so did you. You're going to be sleeping with the fishes tonight, just like they say in The Godfather." Sergei looked over at Marv. "You want a job that pays good, gives you protection?"
"Sure," said Marv, honestly loving the idea of working for a real life gangster, the very people he had idolized almost his entire life.
"Good," said Sergei, reaching into his desk, he pulled a hammer out, giving it to Marv. "Show me you're the bad motherfucker I think you are. Kill him."
The cougar screamed as the two lions shoved him to the floor. Instantly, he was set upon by Marv. Swinging the hammer, he cracked the cougar in the face and and head repeatedly as the cougar begged for his life to be spared. Eventually, the cougar was knocked unconscious and killed. Marv continued swinging the hammer, sending blood, fur, bone and brain matter all over the tarp, which he realized was there for this very purpose. Seeing that the cougar was dead, and beaten beyond recognition, Marv stopped swinging. Standing up, he looked at Sergei. The white tiger clapped his paws together, giving a deep, guttural laugh at Marv's merciless actions.
"Ah, he is a bad motherfucker," said Sergei, still laughing. "My boy, you'll be one of the great American gangsters. Of this, I am certain." Sergei clicked his paws. "Frankie, Bobby, take that pile of shit out of my office and get rid of it."
The tarp crinkled as the lions wrapped up the bludgeoned corpse of the cougar. Seeing that Marv was now a mess from getting blood all over himself, the white tiger threw him a towel. "Here, clean yourself up, Marv." The towel only did so much, as Marv's clothes and fur were still wet from the cold water that had been splashed on him and Sean earlier.
"So," said Sergei, sitting back down. "Where do you boys live?"
"On Bronson Street, south side of town," answered Sean, finally calming down after he realized they weren't going to be killed.
"We'll get you better housing than that place," said Sergei, curling his nose. "You'll see. I'll get you pagers, weapons, everything you need I'll get you."
"What about school?" asked Marv.
"Fuck school," said Sergei, waving his paw dismissively. "You work for me now. You'll get all the schooling you need doing that."
That was music to the boys' ears. Like most kids, they hated school, and the district they were in was one of the poorest, shittiest run down excuses for a school system imaginable. Most of the kids they went to school with were on free or reduced meals because of all the poverty surrounding the area. Sean was still naïve about the real world, but Marv was "perceptive", as Sergei had called him, enough to know that the only way out of their lot in life was to take what they wanted. It was no fairy tale world for them.
"What about you, Sean?" asked Sergei, pouring another glass of vodka. "You want a job too?"
"Yeah," said Sean. "I'm better at thinking up schemes than doing what Marv just did, though."
"Not a problem," said the white tiger. "I need brain as well as brawn in my organization."
"Mr. Andropov," said Marv. "What all are we going to be doing?"
Sergei gave them a lengthy explanation about what his "organization" was involved in. Over the last few years, he'd been seizing the reigns of power as many of the old Mafia families were losing their grip on power, or being sent to serve lengthy prison sentences. Sergei had his paws in everything. His crew was involved with loansharking, money laundering, prostitution, drug dealing, protection, gambling, bookmaking, anything that could make him a dollar. He even explained to the boys how the Soviet Union was falling apart and what he was doing to take advantage of that. Marv's eyes brightened when Sergei mentioned the economic system in the Soviet Union had created such problems that Sergei had been successfully smuggling weapons out of the country and bringing them here or any place he knew there was a market for them. The wolf was even so brazen to ask Sergei if he could get a machine gun for his fourteenth birthday. The white tiger laughed.
"You do a good job, and I'll get you a Kalashnikov rifle, alright Then we call you Machinegun Marv Mortenson. You like the sound of that?"
Oh, he did indeed.
The three talked until three in the morning, with Sergei telling Bobby and Frankie to drive the boys back home. He gave them money, their guns, and told them that they were headed for a better life now, but if they ever got caught, they were to keep their mouths shut. Never talk to the police, ever. Marv and Sean agreed to that, and were taken back home. Bobby, who had taunted Marv when he was still in the bathtub, made an effort to be nicer to him. He had seen what that wolf could do with a hammer, and he knew he'd better respect him.
The lions dropped them off. Walking into their apartment, Brenda heard the door opening and got out of bed, stomping out to the living room. She'd been worried about where they had been all night.
"You couldn't call me?" she huffed.
"We were busy getting jobs," said Marv.
"Jobs?" she said, taking a drag from her cigarette. "What kind of jobs?"
Marv pulled out the wad of cash that Sergei had given them. Brenda couldn't believe how much her boys had brought home to her this time. She ran her paws throw the huge roll, thinking of all the things she could buy with it.
"The kind of job that pays real money. Our boss Mr. Andropov said he's getting us a better apartment too," said Marv.
Brenda turned her gaze back to her elder son. "I think you boys need to come back to Mommy's room and help her celebrate, don't you?"
Marv and Sean smiled at each other. They were always in the mood to celebrate.