Sevastyan
Sevastyan landed in Seoul after his first round in the Yadro with crud in his eyes and a burgeoning headache.
The meeting in Russia had been council level and full of double speak.
Rei was right, there was someone pulling strings, if not more than one someone.
What they wanted was still unclear. Which pointed to more than one group at cross purposes.
On the sidewalk outside the terminal, Sevastyan’s men approached.
They were all operatives he’d used for years, kept on payroll, and had protected and provided for.
Usually they hand delivered items for him or played guard on storage locations.
He’d rarely ever called them in as protection for himself.
All three of them gave him a once-over with their eyes, looking grim.
“Boss.” The oldest one, Red, stepped forward and extended his hand.
He was Canadian in origin, with French Canadian and indigenous features.
Sevastyan shook his hand and turned to the other two.
Oscar had been in the French Foreign Legion.
His English and Russian were basic at best, but he spoke French and Spanish fluently.
The last man was Korean by heritage and Chinese by birth.
He went by Ma, though Sevastyan wasn’t sure if it was a name he’d picked or a family name.
He spoke Korean and some English, though, without any personal ties to Seoul, which was why Sevastyan had included him.
Sevastyan waved for them to follow him to his waiting car. No one spoke until they reached the hotel and all four of them had searched the space for surveillance equipment.
Sevastyan gave them a rundown on the situation with Black Flower and possible local Merchari conflict. “If you want out, you can have it,” he told them as he finished. “I’ve never assigned you this kind of work before.”
“I’ll stay,” Red said.
The other two nodded.
“Then I’ll send a bonus now,” Sevastyan said. “Go buy better suits and get them fitted today. You’ll be using them tomorrow.” He texted each of them a prepared list of addresses and instructions. “Hair, facials, the lot.”
Oscar glared at his phone. “This is girly shit, boss.”
“Not where we’re going,” Sevastyan turned off his phone screen. Taking shit from these three was not on the agenda. “What you look like is a reflection on me.”
Red scowled, then stood and stretched. “Ah, well then, let’s go get gussied up, boys.”
Ma looked at him. Red repeated himself in elementary Russian. Ma scowled.
Sevastyan saw them out and texted Ellisandre.
A reply came back a few minutes later.