Free Hack:Moscow by W. Len Page B

not arguing today.” He pulls a Champagne bottle and cups from his olive-green bag. “Andrei, I know you like this. I saw how you drank last time.” His fingers work the twist-cap and, pop! He pours a cup for Anton and me. “To success,” Luka exclaims and my mood gushes like foam. So what if I don’t know enough about Luka? So what if Anton gets paid more? Everything worked out and I helped. I play a role. I’m part of a team. This is what I’m good at; it may be the only thing I’m good at, but it’s something. “To us,” Luka continues.
    Us.
    “Drink, Anton! Laugh. Be happy. The job’s done. I’ve got your money ready. What else do you want?” Luka says.
    “What I want…” Anton says, with a cool smile as he raises his cup. The smoke from his cigarette coils around his hand like a translucent snake. “What I want…is to piss.” He tosses the half-full cup aside.
    After he’s gone, Luka hands me an envelope. There’s an unusual formality in the way he holds it out to me with both hands. Inside the envelope, there was money. A lot of money. I’ve never seen so much before. Half of it is in rubles, the other half, in U.S. dollars. I look at him, eager to hear our next step, for him to share the plan.
    “I treated you well, didn’t I?” he asks, and I nod, waiting for more.
    When he doesn’t continue, I press him. “What’s next? After this, what’s next?”
    He finishes his cigarette and pulls out his cigarette case.
    “Luka?”
    “This is difficult,” he says heavily. “I’m leaving Moscow once the exchange is done.”
    I nod. Of course. It’s the smart thing to do. I don’t trust Boris as well. My thoughts run ahead, wondering what I’d be leaving behind when we go. Anna, Old Nelya—what will happen to them? “How long before we come back?” I ask. “Where are we going?”
    He fumbles at the spark wheel, which keeps failing to catch.
    “Luka?”
    Again, the fire doesn’t take. He seems fixated on his lighter.
    “What about—” I bit off the foolish word before I could utter it. Because I finally understand what he’s not saying. His heavy silence is a cheap confession: he’s leaving without me. There is no “us.”
    He swears and throws away the lighter. “Andrei, you understand…it’s for the best.” He reaches for my hair and I knock his hand hard. I can see it now, how this was supposed to be our last job all along. Of course he’d take off with his wife. Why stay in this cursed city? What did he owe me? “It’s safer for you,” he adds lamely. “That money will last a long time. Go treat yourself. Or go somewhere.” Alone, he means. Without him.
    The lighter lies cracked on the floor, its fluid staining the concrete. That’s what happens to useless things; they’re tossed aside.
    I don’t want to be safer, I want to be together, I want to be with you—I replace all those pathetic phrases with a lulling melody of zeroes, blanking out everything. I’m getting good at it; I’ve been practicing. “Ok,” I say. “Ok.”
    “Andrei…” he trails off for there is nothing to say.
    I snatch my bag from the floor. When I look up, Luka has turned from me. He’s heading towards his laptop. So be it.
    My phone buzzes. It’s Anton. Come to the restroom.

1.85
    A loud train rushing through the industrial district rattles the area as I near the restroom. The hollow metal door creaks open when I knock. It wasn’t latched. I push it wide open and Anton’s not inside. From the window, I can see the train, a blurry rush of colorful containers, darting from left to right like a flattened rainbow. The plywood tacked over the window is gone.
    “Anton?” I call out. No response.
    “Anton?” I try again, then look at my phone. He messaged me barely a minute ago. Something is wrong. I walk towards the window, and see the board on the ground outside. The hole is more than big enough for a person to squeeze through. What game is this? Is Anton outside? A chime cuts