The Favour

By Henry Martell

Meet Alex Dimitriev, a young girl buried in the dark world of the Russian Mafia. She had lived there all her life, having been born into it. She was the daughter of a former boss and seemingly much favored by many. But she wanted to be free, free of the horrible clutches of these awful men so she does the unthinkable, goes to the boss and asks for her freedom. Most who did this would be beaten and thrown down deeper into the bowels of this world but for a reason unknown to Alex, her wish was granted. She would get her freedom but she will find out over time that this freedom is not the freedom she thought. And she finds that there was a reason she was granted her wish. She was just a pawn in a much bigger game, one played by the grand puppeteers of the hierarchy. The price she would have to pay for this freedom she wished might be too high. A fear rises in her that this price may change her to someone she hates and despises more than anything and would damage her soul. She now has to choose whether she will do it or not, knowing the consequences of either will be death or damage beyond salvation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Henry Martell
• Release date: Apr 3, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370532728

Henry Martell

Greetings, welcome to my author page. I have written just about everything you can imagine since I was the ripe old age of fourteen. Now, some forty or more years later, I retired and needed to decide what on Earth to do. Can't golf all year here in Canada so I spend my time writing for publication. I write fiction, science fiction, fantasy and even some suspense. I never considered myself a poet but I wrote some when younger. A lot of the stories I wrote may grow into longer works or even series. It depends on whether they are popular or not. That's my writing and what consumes my winters. In summer it's golf season so I don't write much. I am a member of the Writers Foundation of Strathcona County in Sherwood Park Alberta, Canada. We promote writing and reading all kinds locally. One thing that is important for everyone nowadays is that no one is reading anymore. People say they don't have time or the desire to read but I thing they are missing so much and we need to bring back the pleasure of what reading brings to the reader.

Book preview

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THE FAVOUR

A Novel by Henry Martell

The Favour

Published by Henry Martell at Smashwords

Copyright 2023 by Henry Martell

Smashwords edition

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter1

Chapter2

Chapter3

Chapter4

Chapter5

Chapter6

Chapter7

Chapter8

Chapter9

Chapter10

Chapter11

Chapter12

Chapter13

Chapter14

Chapter15

Chapter16

Chapter17

Chapter 1

Alex Dimitriev walked along the shores of New York's East River. She loved to walk here at this time, early in the morning. It was peaceful and quiet. She wore a pair of worn out, dirty jeans along with an old t-shirt and dirty hoodie. She stared at the water below her. If things didn't go well today, she could wind up in this river. Her organization dumped a lot of their victims here.

She hated the organization and the men in it. They ruled her life by their whims with no regard to what she may want. She gazed around at the people going by. They were free. They didn’t need to grovel and beg for freedom. This was America, land of the free. How could something like what she faced exist here? All the people who passed her didn't need to do that.

She also hated being frightened by these men to the point where she trembled in their presence. A man passed and stared at her. He hesitated for a second then moved on. Men did that all the time. Her youthful beauty had not diminished yet, even though she spent three years in the brothels.

A cold wind blew across the water into her face. She covered her head with her hoodie against the overcast sky. She walked further on till she came to an old, wooden bench. This was her favorite place, a place she liked to sit and view the city and think. Her father used to bring her here when still a small child. She felt the wood, saw the markings and carvings on the surface, some of them hers, permanent, written accounts of all who passed here and what happened then.

She remembered when she put those markings here. They reminded her of a better time. Her father still lived and her family happy. She hung on to those memories of the best time of her life, but they faded into the mists of time. A bird flew by and glided across the surface of the river. It dipped its beak into the water for food. Some kind of crane strutted around on the shore and poked its long beak into the mud. Alex sometimes wished she was a bird and could take wing and fly away, escape this world to parts unknown. Better that than face the task ahead of her this morning: go up to the bar on the street right above her and ask the boss, Kirill Melnikov, for her freedom.

She didn't make her move yet. She had to wait for the right time, catch him as he ate breakfast. The best time to find him in a pleasant mood. Less chance he would get angry. That would be disaster for Alex. She remembered one of the girls who asked for her freedom. Kirill grabbed her, dragged her out onto the floor of his bar and beat her to a bloody mess. Alex couldn't believe the ferocity. Why did he need to beat her so bad for something that seemed reasonable to want?

The night before, three men sat in the back room of a bar, not Kirill's, across town. The area was busy with tourists and shoppers bustling about.

The critical question is, said one of the men, Sava Minayev, can she do it when the time comes or more important, will she? He stared at the other two as he spoke. He had a square, hard face with flat features like he had been pounded down. His full head of hair showed plenty of grey.

I believe she will, replied a second man, Anatoly Kozlov. He also had a hard face with sharp features, a face dominated by a long nose, made crooked from many fights.

All three were bosses in Kirill's organization. Kozlov led a crew feared by all. Anyone who steps out of line or presents a major threat to the business received a visit from his crew. They were veterans from the war in Chechnya, where they had learned and honed many specialized skills.

I understand you would believe in her, Sava replied. But you favour her too much. Some say you still take her to your bed.

Anatoly stared at Sava with his dead eyes. These were eyes devoid of kindness, compassion or regard for human life. All men in this club had those eyes. The third man, Alexander Vasiliev, sat quiet. He studied the two men's faces as they sparred. Alexander was cleaner cut, with short hair, no beard and softer features than these two. He wore a suit and tie as he always did. Alexander reached over the table and grabbed the half full bottle of Vodka. He deduced it was time to lighten the mood and defuse any further arguments. He poured three shots, and they raised their glasses in toast and tossed the drink down.

Everything is set now, Alexander said. I have talked with Kirill.

And I have talked with Alex, Anatoly said. She will do it tomorrow.

I still worry Kirill will change his mind at the last minute, Sava said. He may suspect something else. No matter how careful we are, there can be leaks anytime.

The only way Kirill finds out, Alexander said, is if one of you tells him.

The other two gave Alexander a hateful stare.

He agrees with the plan, at least the first part, Anatoly said. It's the proper thing to do. We never should have sent her to the brothels. It's not the way things are done.

Alexander understood Anatoly's position. His wife, Ariel, wanted Alex freed. She even wanted her to move in with them. Alexander didn’t care about Ariel’s plans; he concerned himself with his own plan.

He turned to Anatoly. Did Sergei deal with Anna?

Of course, Anatoly said. She has worked on Alex for months now, to boost her up, and believe in herself. They were very careful not to tell her everything and cause suspicion.

Good, Sava said, then we wait for tomorrow.

Alex checked her watch. Kirill should be up now. Her anxiety made it difficult for her to move. She trusted no one. So despite everyone's urgings and assurances that everything would be alright, Alex realized Kirill could still refuse her. That's why she was afraid. If he did refuse and even beat her, she would not live with that result. Unknown to anyone, she formulated another plan.

She called it plan B. She would take her gun out to this old bench. While sitting amongst the memories of the best time of her life, she would put the gun to her head and end it all with one shot. This plan put fear into her heart. Did she have the ability to end everything like that? If not, only one other plan remained. This one included Vodka and drugs. Her mother took that path after her father's death. She spent every day in a stoned stupor.

She got up and made her way to the bar. Alex moved slow and often stopped to examine things. She wanted to savor everything as long as possible. A chilling thought popped in her head, was this how a condemned person spent their final hours? Tables lined the sides of the bar full of men. They all turned at once whenever someone entered. If you were unwelcome or unknown, one of these men would be in your face and want to know your business. Alex was familiar so they turned away.

If Kirill beat her, it would be their morning entertainment. They would show no compassion or concern, only laughter as fists smashed her face. She was only a woman, after all, something to buy, sell and abuse. Women didn't have what these men respected the most: power.

Hey, Alex, said one of them, as she passed his table. She turned and recognized Valery, one of the soldiers; a man who always hit on her but had never had her. Kirill would never allow someone as low as him on the scale to be accorded that privilege. You're early today. Someone kick you out of bed?

She glanced at him, started to insult him but did not. No, she said. I came early because I realized you would be here.

Valery laughed. Let's say we get together later.

Wonderful thought but you need permission first.

The men around Valery laughed and punched him in the shoulder. She took a deep breath as she moved toward Kirill's table at the back. She barely made out details back here in the dim light, but remembered where everything was. The thick wood tables, tile floors and walls paneled in wood. Light fixtures like might exist in hallways, dotted all around the walls that cast a dim light. The place was old, drab and run down, but it was not regular bar. It was Kirill's headquarters. The only customers were members of his organization or people who did business with it.

At the far back of the bar, set against the wall, was Kirill's table. Every day he held court here. Men would come and do their business. He only moved to go to the bathroom or retire at night to his apartment down a hall to his left, hidden by a curtain. Alex prepared herself as she approached the heavy set man in his sixties with a round face and large belly. He sat on what appeared to be an old couch but augmented by cushions and pillows for support, much needed as he spent many hours here.

Sitting as he did, he had a clear view of the whole bar and who came and went. He reminded her of an ancient king who lounged on his throne and indulged in food and drink available at his fingertips, surrounded by his minions. She examined the scars on his face from many old battles. Kirill was old school; he had fought his way up from the bottom. His dead eyes locked on her and made her heart beat faster as she approached his table.

Good morning, Kirill, she said with a nervous voice.

Good morning, Alex, Kirill said. He bent his head down and continued to work on his breakfast.

May I speak with you in private? she said. The sound in the bar, always a constant background din, diminished as all eyes turned to the table. A private conversation was a privilege extended only to the most important or favoured of his organization. To grant this privilege to a person such as her was unheard of.

Kirill raised his head not saying anything. He chewed for a moment then bent down to his plate again. He picked up a piece of rye bread and sopped up the remainder of his eggs. He finished eating, took a long, slow drink of coffee. He gazed at her again, his face unchanging as a stone. She couldn't tell behind those dead eyes what he thought or would do. She could never do that. Her legs began to shake. He put down his cup and waved dismissively to the other men at the table.

Leave us, he said and everyone retreated to other tables in the room but continued to stare with suspicious eyes. They worried if her discussion with Kirill in any way would affect them. Alex almost caught her breath. She would pass the first step and be awarded her audience. She heard the murmurs of the men at the other tables as they turned and whispered to one another.

Come sit, Alex, Kirill said. She went to sit at one of the chairs opposite him. No, no, here, he said as he pointed to the space next to him on his couch. Did you not want to speak in private? Alex's heart almost stopped. She would be too close to him and those brutal hands. No chance to protect herself, should he want to beat her. As she sat gingerly, he took her hands in his. They felt rough and strong. She had seen him work over men and women with those hands.

He held her tight and steadied her trembling hands. I have been expecting this conversation, Alex, he said with shocking nonchalance. I sensed you have been troubled and it distresses me.

I'm sorry, she said, taking a breath as she tried to bring herself together. I didn't mean to cause you any distress.

What is it you wish to ask, my child?

Alex stared at him, held her head up and steady and stared straight at him and into those awful eyes. I mean you no disrespect. I remember you took me and my mother in after my father's death. When you sent me to the brothels, I did so without complaint and did my best.

And you did, Alex, Kirill said. You have become one of the most popular girls, much desired, without any problems or complaints.

But I was born into this. I did not choose this life and I swore no oaths. Alex paused; she had said enough by now to warrant a beating. Now it was time to dive off the edge into the turbulent waters below. I come to you today to ask for my freedom. Her heart pounded as she peered into his face and waited for the explosion of anger. Instead, he released her hands and showed no anger on his face. Sudden relief flowed over Alex and her body relaxed.

I thought as much, he said in a quiet and unfamiliar voice. He leaned back in his chair and regarded her. I understand you were wronged in this whole thing. Your father was an important man in this organization and you should have been better taken care of. If you wish, we can arrange a marriage for you, one of the bosses of your choice, one who would take care of you.

Alex knew what that meant. An option given to the most favoured. She would be his wife, bear children, and take care of his family and melt into the background.

I thank you for that offer but I want to be able to choose how my life will go. I want to see what I can be, how high I can fly on my own.

Kirill almost smiled. Ah to be young again with hopes and dreams in front of you. That is why you are a joy to me, Alex. You still have that hope.

Alex wasn't sure about being a joy to Kirill, but then he always said things that didn't make sense. Perhaps he mocked her, played along in jest, to reveal her naivety. In this world, hope was something you took out of a person, smashed it to bits, because someone with hope was a dangerous person.

But those hopes and dreams wane more and more each day. I can't do this anymore. Something must change. She steeled herself. What is your decision?

What will you do if I say no?

I don't know, she lied. Sadness descended on her as she thought of that possibility. If I continue I would wind up like my mother. Kirill wrinkled his brow and looked hard at Alex. Perhaps he suspected a plan B; after all it was the way all members left this business with honour.

I do not want you to harm yourself, Alex, he said in his commanding tone. I admire your nerve coming to me with this request. But I am not surprised; you have proved us wrong many times before. Some of us thought you wouldn't last a few months let alone six years. You waited because you feared a beating from me, but you could have come to me sooner, I would never hurt you, Alex. You are not like the others; you are like a daughter to me.

Those statements shocked and confused Alex. What did he mean by that? He had