Take Me There..

"He exists in a world beyond your world.."
"What you would only fantasize about, he does..."

"Feared by many, truly known by few, this man is as legendary as they come. He's cheated death, congregated with the most noble of people, and the most ruthless...he can be vile, he can be aristorcaratic. He enjoys traveling in the subway or in a Bentley both equally. Money is of no importance to Him, merely a means...And guess what, you are about to work for him..."

Sonja shifted her weight from one perfectly formed buttcheek to the other in her seat. she tried as much as she can to conceal the exitement and how impressed she was with her poker face. It was quite hard.

This guy is something close to a truly life inspiration of Keyser Soze... an underwolrd kingpin, who not so many people can boast. She never thought she would end up in this kind of life. She graduated from Secretarial College with aspirations to work at a bank, or maybe a multinational. serve important people.

Her definition of importance was about to be amended.



She kissed her husband goodbye, and went down to the unmarked black peugeot parked downstairs. Shes going to Prague, finally a big city for the first time in her life. Okay, not the first time, she recalls once how her uncle Olaf ( he wasnt really her uncle, hes Polish, but he was like a brother to her father) took her to Bratislava to see the Castle, the old town there, Back before the Velvet Revolution when they were one country.
It was a short drive to the closest town with an airport. She remembered how she was chosen.
She recalled how not so long ago she was looking for a job desperately in any place she can get, she submitted online, she did door to door, they all shunned her until in the end she worked as a receptionist at the only hotel in town. It was funny how her job description as receptionist included collecting laundry, and sometimes cooking to the one or two guests who actually occupied the rooms.

She was a Magyar, of Hungarian origin in a country which was enforced on its people, one day they just woke up and found some Cigar puffing politicians with too much fat at their bellies thought it would be a great idea for them to co exist with their not so homogenic neighbours under one flag.

Dont you just love politicians?


She remembered her husband, remembered how he would dream of changing the world, Changing the status quo, ridding them of the injustice of ethinc rifts, and that they would have a country of their own...

Transylvania...
He did nothing, Czechkoslovakia fell...and he had nothing to do with it, he just worked at the factory, didnt even celebrate that day to work the night shift when everyone was saying good riddance to the Slovaks, he just said its a celbration not of our own people, we still have a challenge...
Thats what men do, talk talk talk, when it comes to action, they always claim they have tomorrow.

The man who she was going to meet on the other hand, was unlike most men.
She was driven directly to a Villa outside of Prague. All across the way she was looking at different places, with different people. Different faces, and a story behind each one she thought. She thought of their dreams...their dissapointments and wondered how more dissapointments she will recieve in her meagre and unaffective life.

She'd constantly remind herself throughout the trip where she is going, what change she could be capable of. The untold riches of working with this man, the endless possibilities. She thought about leaving her husband, for she knows he would not accept her being the bigger breadwinner. With him being blinded by pride, allowing her to go try her luck is something, and living with the fact that she is the better and most successful of the both of them is something else. She'd wish the extra copious amounts of money would silence his pride, but he knows he is too much of a man to do that.
She wont leave him though, she will just wait until it gets too unbearable for him, and he will most certainly not let it pass.
Her thoughts of the severe change she was about to undergo should this trip be actually successful were interrupted by a jovially smiling middle aged man in burgundy uniform, opening her car door for her,
"Dobrý den, madam"
"Dobrý den..." She responded, with a corteous smile...
She walked into what seemed to be centuries of grandoise, only refurbished...probably in the late 90's or so. She was prompted very formally into a large reception/ tea room. with large and high white wooden double doors, the ceiling, in addition to being quite high for normal housing standards was fresoced with a biblical image. to the left, huge mahogany bookcases, with your impressive variation of Navy Blue, Black, Dark Green and Burgundy Red binding of probably classical books. The right side of the room was basically a set of ceiling to floor cross windows, that let in a gush of light accopmanying the subtly and dimly lit room which had lighting fixtures all over the place ranging from spots imbedded in the bookcase, to antique lamps on various tall rounded small tables sprawled delicately between the couches and armchairs. A Black Grand Piano shone in the far corner on the left, it was a Steinway and Sons. It ruled out the entire image of sophistication, attributing the essence to a pseudo-cultured American decorator.

She sat at the edge of a Dark red couch, and placed her handbag on the wall to wall carpeted beige floors. she realized her dirty shoes messed up the carpets and cursed at how bad and permanent an impression she is already leaving.

"Kurva!" she muttered...
At that point He walked in wearing a Grey Pinstriped suit and a black tie, She collected herself and in the best unbroken english she could come up with said Good afternoon Mister King...

"Good Afternoon, I take it you had a good drive up here?"
"yes.."
" I see you already have left an impression?"
"What?"
"an impression, your shoes...the carpet" he said smiling..." dont worry, im selling it anyways... I dont like Prague, only here because business takes me here..ill just stick to staying at the Four Seasons...you ever been there? its a lovely place really, spectacular view of the Vltava..
I know you have never been there...you must think you have come a long way in life, allow me to just assure you that you still havent seen life...nothing of it. You will see alot, Im bracing you...consider today your birthday..."

She hated the condescending manner the rich and the powerful communicated to her in almost every dealing, emphasizing the difference, the barrier, the invisible one everyone claims it doesnt exist but everyone still knows it does. Rubbing salt into the wound doesnt really help on forging a relationship built on trust she thought.
She asked herself why is she further subjecting herself to more pain, but just dropped the thought and let him proceed...

" What I am asking of you is quite simple, and easy...theres a room booked for you in the Four Seasons i just metioned...be ready at 8 o clock to receive further instructions."

That night, exactly at 8 O clock, the room phone rang, reception was informing her of a man simply referred to as "špína" was waiting for her in the lobby.

She descended to the lobby, and met the man referred to as "dirt".

It surprised her how in your face these people operated. Nobody is called Dirt, and they really are far smarter than to let such a thing pass them, yet they still do it, once again they rub salt into peoples wounds.
She followed špína into an Audi S6, that took them to the airport. the gates to the tarmac clearly opened upon sight of the vehicle, and they drove onto the tarmac up until they reached a non descript Gulfstream Learjet, being fueled and prepared for take-off.

" jsme létání?" she asked..she didnt expect travel this soon
"ano" he replied back in the affirmative.
"Nemám passport"
He just looked at her with frustration and pulled out a Red British Passport with Her Majesty's Seal on it, God Bless Her. He handed her the passport and told her to have a look..

"She does now"

Sonja's picture was inside, and apparently her new name is Sonja Tepes.
She found it sick of whomever picked out her name, since the most famous Magyar in History was Vlad Tepes, mostly known as Vlad the Impaler aka Count Dracula.

Seven Years Later:

She was waiting in the line for passport control at Almaty International Airport, Dressed in a Gucci Business Suit, Fleuvog Heels and a Prada Coat, donning her Blackberry and flipping through work emails as the line moved forward with one hand, and resting the other on her Loius Vitton Carry on luggage that matched her suitcase supposedly waiting for her already on the First Class flyers conveyor belt. She was sickened at the incompetence of local resources they had to utilize for services they were trying to procure with a shipping company, she hated how the forgers they were using to fabricate bills of lading refused to deal directly with legitimate shippers to not expose themselves. She hated how they didnt see the big picture, that they were supplying arms for separatist groups in Georgia and this small impedement required her attention that should be adequately allocated to the bigger scheme of things...

Shes an important person now, probably affecting the daily lives of millions, and is still treated regularly, still had to deal with inconveniences such as acting as a go between two entites that are not supposedly acknowledging one another's existence let alone actually doing Business. Such entites utilized people like her Boss, Damien King, and now hes utilizing her...She wondered that would be different after seven years of loyalty, in a Trade where you have a shelf life for merely one operation, one job thats it, and then you go home and feel great as to how you have become an arms dealer and actually was engaged in world politics...the secret jubilation of the thought would blind you from the Hatchet Man probably employed by your own employer who is coming at you with a .22 caliber to get rid of you quietly, or even worse, blind you that you will live through it, and only 30 years later the realization of such a heinous thing you have done will motivate you to take your own life . She stopped the string of thoughts about self loathing and self pity when realized she was holding the line back when the passport control officer was gesturing for her to come.
"you English?"
"yes.."
" Welcome to Kazakhstan miss..Tipps"
"It's Tepes.."

" Welcome to the Jungle then.." he said jokingly... She couldnt resist the comeback" You dont welcome Royalty to their own dominion do you..."