At 2 am in the morning Anton Mikhailovich picked up the hand piece of the phone. He knew it was – him – the man that had called him two mornings prior offering him a large sum of money for a special favor. And he had been waiting for his call to come. His expression showed approval as the phone began to ring the second the long hand struck the hour.
When he answered it, the same static came over the phone as it had the first time they had spoken. He waited for the greeting the voice on the other end made before he gave his answer.
"I have decided to accept your offer," he stated, then listened to the instructions from the other end as to what to do to receive his payment. "It will be done as you say," he returned, realizing the person on the other end wasn't a fool at all. He had to perform a certain duty in order to get his money wired to his Swiss bank account.
It seemed the voice on the other end knew it was the only account he held that his government could not plunder, or investigate, especially after he had split the entire sum up into several smaller accounts that would cloak the transaction. When he hung up the phone, he sat for a minute thinking before he picked up the hand piece again, and dialed a number, waiting as it rang.
***
Peter stepped off the train in Russia, his stomach rumbling from hunger. His travel had consisted of the flight from the States to the U.K. From there, he had flown to Germany, where he had taken the train. All in all, he had had no sleep, and very little to eat.
Looking both directions at the station, he turned left starting toward the exit. He suddenly veered to his left again, headed to the washroom, when he spotted two men of his organization were heading toward him. As soon as he did, two more blocked the door, forcing him to turn back toward the way he came, seeing yet two more coming toward him. Realizing he was trapped, he stood still and waited for them to approach. There was no use in running and costing innocent civilians their lives for his freedom.
Converged upon, he was handcuffed and taken to the waiting area in the customs department. An hour later, he was taken out of the room and accompanied onto another train. They pushed and shoved him trying his patience, trying to provoke him to retaliate, but Peter was somber, quiet and submissive the entire time.
They situated him in a private compartment, leaving him there with a guard posted at the door to ensure he didn't escape. Peter soon felt the train moving and had expected it to be headed further north. Instead, he found himself headed back the way he had just come. Confused, hungry, tired and dejected, he laid down on the small bed provided and tried to sleep.
***
It had been two days since Jonathan had been admitted. He still lay in the original state he had been in the past forty-eight hours. Bruce and Greg began to wonder what Tony was up to. He hadn't shown his face since he had left the hospital to return to the mansion and sleep. They both had attempted to call him, but each time were told that Mr. Santini wasn't around. They both began to suspect that Tony had gone out looking for Peter to bring him back and possibly get him to wake up Jonathan, or at least inform him that Jonathan had been injured.
Each one took turns in their vigil to watch over the boy, talking to him, reading to him, and just being there in case he did wake up. The doctors had informed them that Jonathan had suffered a severe concussion and fracture to the skull. His brain had begun to swell and he quite possible might never wake up. They all prayed he would make it through each night, their tears flowing heavily as the realization of loosing the kid was dangerously close.
***
Tony sat with Stacy and Aaron in David's office going over files and past orders while a crew worked at repairing the roof of the club, cleaning up the water, replacing all of the damaged equipment and furniture, and blown flood lights beneath the dancefloor, so on and so forth.
He had set a deadline as to when he wanted to reopen the club, making it a grand opening, with new management and a new name to boot. Everyone was working arduously to accomplish it by the date set and with Tony to oversee it, they didn't sit down for breaks too often. In the evening, when the dayshift crew went home, the nightshift came in to continue the work at hand. Tony headed to the hospital to check on Jonathan, Bruce and Greg.
When he arrived, Greg was curled up in a chair in the ICU waiting room. He inquired about Jonathan from the man sitting at the desk with the phone, who called back to the nurse's station asking if Tony could go in and see Jonathan. The man told him he would have to wait for Bruce to come out before he could go in. so, he sat across from Greg watching the man sleep waiting for Bruce to come out of the kid's room.
When Bruce entered the room, his expression was hopeful. It gave Tony a sense that Jonathan must have moved, or spoken at least. The man amble toward him, parking in the chair next to him before he said anything.
"Did you find him?"
"Who, Bruce?" Tony eyed the man curiously.
"Peter."
"Oh, no. I didn't find him."
Then Bruce's countenance fell somewhat. "I wonder where he could be, Tony?"
"I think I know, but I can't be certain, just yet. How is the kid?"
"The same. No changes at all."
