silvertongue217
Literotica Guru
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- May 21, 2014
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RUSSIA TWO YEARS AGO
“Do you think it you’ll ever return?”
Aleksie Nokolia looked at his mother once more willing his brain to retain every last detail of her hardened face. His mother had a hard life working in the factory district on munitions and arms. She had spent her life etching out as much of a “fine” living as possible in the slums of Russia weathering the war as best she could and making sure he and his little sister had as decent a life as one could have. Her husband, his father was gone dead and buried in the beginning of the war his mother was strong even then crying behind closed doors and putting on a brave face for her children. She was the toughest, most beautiful woman Alek had ever had the pleasure of knowing and would ever know.
“I do not know” Alek responded honestly painfully aware his sister was crying in her room “More than likely not”
There was a painful silence in the room as his mother processed the information. She finally took a deep breath and nodded turning and going over to the dresser she kept locked. She fished the key off of her neck and slid it in unlocking it and pulling it open, the hinges gave a soft whine of process which she ignored instead reaching in and pulling out a golden pocket watch. She let the golden chain pool into her fingers before quickly locking the ancient dresser back up and quickly striding back to him. Even in her old age his mother never simply “walked” she carried her self with purpose and dignity.
“Walk with purpose my son” She always said to him even as a child “always walk as if you have a purpose and one will find you”
“Here” She said breaking him out of his memories “this was your fathers it has been in his family for generations it is one of the few things they recovered from his body”
“Mama” Alek said staring at her fingers noticing the slight tremble they gave off “I can not-“
“It is your birthright” His mother insisted her milky eyes narrowing as she brought her hands out “your inheritance you WILL take it my son”
He opened his mouth to protest more but stopped quickly. Even though his mother was much shorter than he she always had a way of towering over him. Even now in the dying light she gave off an air that simply said “do not argue with me”. He sighed and opened his hands cupping his palms together, his mother nodded in approval and began to feed the chain into his hands before gently depositing the golden watch into his hands and closing them. She nodded in approval before bringing his hands up and gently kissing them.
“Go my son and never forget who you are”
Present Day
Vegas
Alek watched his target
He idly scratched his bicep trying to get comfortable on the soft seat. How did the Americans live in such softness? The seat was to soft to comfortable like at any minute it would swallow the operative whole. He shifted again trying to make himself comfortable before scowling and giving up resigning himself to his fate. He crossed his tan arms watching his biceps flex and smiling softly as he spotted a few over weight American men at the bat.
“Softness is America’s undoing” Alek A.K.A Timothy Maxwell thought to himself smugly. He was still relatively new to his “assignment” but he had seen enough of America to know this to be true. He was arguably the most well built man lounging by the pool with his tan skin, his muscular forearms, and piercing blue eyes he looked like he stepped off of the latest male modern magazine the America’s were stuffing down their throat. Alek couldn’t understand why any man would want to read it, how could they deal with knowing they were inferior? How could the woman fawn over the men in the magazine yet still stand by their fat husbands?
Take his target for example senator Richard the man was balding and from Alek’s position looked like a large rock trying desperately not to drown in the water. There was no precision as the man did his laps just a bunch of flapping around and extra movement that were unnecessary. To be honest the man seemed more interested in ogling the woman that were hanging around in their bikini’s then any thing else.
A fact that would work in his “wife’s” favor
Alek ordered another beer waiting for his new wife to come out. They were on their “honeymoon” before settling into their new life together at DC. Their Alek would continue to assist the mother land in any capacity they required. The mission didn’t have an expiration date and Alek had long given up the thought of returning home to mother Russia. He was doing his patriotic duty just as his father had years before and even his mother.
That would have to be enough for him
“Do you think it you’ll ever return?”
Aleksie Nokolia looked at his mother once more willing his brain to retain every last detail of her hardened face. His mother had a hard life working in the factory district on munitions and arms. She had spent her life etching out as much of a “fine” living as possible in the slums of Russia weathering the war as best she could and making sure he and his little sister had as decent a life as one could have. Her husband, his father was gone dead and buried in the beginning of the war his mother was strong even then crying behind closed doors and putting on a brave face for her children. She was the toughest, most beautiful woman Alek had ever had the pleasure of knowing and would ever know.
“I do not know” Alek responded honestly painfully aware his sister was crying in her room “More than likely not”
There was a painful silence in the room as his mother processed the information. She finally took a deep breath and nodded turning and going over to the dresser she kept locked. She fished the key off of her neck and slid it in unlocking it and pulling it open, the hinges gave a soft whine of process which she ignored instead reaching in and pulling out a golden pocket watch. She let the golden chain pool into her fingers before quickly locking the ancient dresser back up and quickly striding back to him. Even in her old age his mother never simply “walked” she carried her self with purpose and dignity.
“Walk with purpose my son” She always said to him even as a child “always walk as if you have a purpose and one will find you”
“Here” She said breaking him out of his memories “this was your fathers it has been in his family for generations it is one of the few things they recovered from his body”
“Mama” Alek said staring at her fingers noticing the slight tremble they gave off “I can not-“
“It is your birthright” His mother insisted her milky eyes narrowing as she brought her hands out “your inheritance you WILL take it my son”
He opened his mouth to protest more but stopped quickly. Even though his mother was much shorter than he she always had a way of towering over him. Even now in the dying light she gave off an air that simply said “do not argue with me”. He sighed and opened his hands cupping his palms together, his mother nodded in approval and began to feed the chain into his hands before gently depositing the golden watch into his hands and closing them. She nodded in approval before bringing his hands up and gently kissing them.
“Go my son and never forget who you are”
Present Day
Vegas
Alek watched his target
He idly scratched his bicep trying to get comfortable on the soft seat. How did the Americans live in such softness? The seat was to soft to comfortable like at any minute it would swallow the operative whole. He shifted again trying to make himself comfortable before scowling and giving up resigning himself to his fate. He crossed his tan arms watching his biceps flex and smiling softly as he spotted a few over weight American men at the bat.
“Softness is America’s undoing” Alek A.K.A Timothy Maxwell thought to himself smugly. He was still relatively new to his “assignment” but he had seen enough of America to know this to be true. He was arguably the most well built man lounging by the pool with his tan skin, his muscular forearms, and piercing blue eyes he looked like he stepped off of the latest male modern magazine the America’s were stuffing down their throat. Alek couldn’t understand why any man would want to read it, how could they deal with knowing they were inferior? How could the woman fawn over the men in the magazine yet still stand by their fat husbands?
Take his target for example senator Richard the man was balding and from Alek’s position looked like a large rock trying desperately not to drown in the water. There was no precision as the man did his laps just a bunch of flapping around and extra movement that were unnecessary. To be honest the man seemed more interested in ogling the woman that were hanging around in their bikini’s then any thing else.
A fact that would work in his “wife’s” favor
Alek ordered another beer waiting for his new wife to come out. They were on their “honeymoon” before settling into their new life together at DC. Their Alek would continue to assist the mother land in any capacity they required. The mission didn’t have an expiration date and Alek had long given up the thought of returning home to mother Russia. He was doing his patriotic duty just as his father had years before and even his mother.
That would have to be enough for him
