Deserving Gold

The second Bradlee Nelson handed me the certificate and pool noodle, I was outta there. Ivan just burst from the room like a rabid grizzly, which isn’t gonna be good for LT. Then again, neither is leaving Alexei in a room alone with Surf Express.

I have other problems. Namely, the slightly metallic smell of Sebastian Gold’s blood on my person. I rush down the hallway like I’m trying to qualify for Olympic trials in speed walking, blowing by Enemigos and PRIME staff before I duck into the nearest bathroom.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!” Can’t get to the sink fast enough and slam my hand against the automatic soap dispenser.

It just can’t keep up.

There’s not enough soap in the world to wash off what I just did.

“God DAMMIT!”

Without so much as a thought, the cover of the dispenser is ripped from the wall and swiftly discarded. I tear into the bag, immersing my hands into UniFirst’s finest hand soap. Cupping my hands to trap as much of the pink, glistening mixture as possible, I move to the sink and lather aggressively like a trauma surgeon preparing to open up his next patient.

Bash and Crash may need one of those before the night is over.

Fuck. What did I do tonight? I stare at the person in the mirror…and I don’t recognize him.

The automatic sink doesn’t kick on right away, leaving me with soaped up hands that are getting stickier by the minute. Impatient, I jump to the next sink over. Still nothing.

“Where in the FUCK is the water?!”

Third time’s a charm, I guess. The hot water offers little relief as I scrub and scrub and scrub.

I wonder how much scrubbing it’ll take to wash away eight months of questionable decision making.

An eternity later, my hands are red and swollen thanks to the night’s events, although the obsessive hand washing ordeal didn’t help. I wince as the touchless hand dryer does a shit job of actually drying my hands and reach for some paper towels.

Fuck, that’s tender.

Relieved to see no traces of dried blood, mine or Sebastian’s, on the paper towel, I toss it into the garbage and exit into the hallway and my Uber outta here.

I drift down the hallway and into one of the common areas in the bowels of the arena, where I’m met by dozens of PRIME staffers and Enemigos. Many of them stop what they’re doing as I enter, while the Enemigos stand unimpressed by my antics earlier in the night.

Embarrassment, maybe shame…probably both are what fuel me through the common area. I felt like the new kid in school…or the one that tried to murder another kid in the middle of science class.

Probably the second option.

The feeling of dozens of eyes following my movements disapprovingly weighs heavily on my shoulders; I’m moving as fast as I can to get the hell out of the building but in reality, I’m inching through the corridor hoping that any of these people will get distracted and look away.

Finally, salvation arrives in the form of the door to the parking garage where my Uber awaits.

The familiar smell of burnt rubber fills my nostrils as I come face-to-face with the mangled mess of a vehicle. The front end of the sedan is collapsed like the bellows of an accordion. The crowd has dissipated but my memory of the events are vivid as can be.

I know if I hang around too long, I’ll have second thoughts about what I did tonight.

Make no mistake - Sebastian Gold deserved it. 🍍🍍🍍 Fanya Stanislav has passed. House of Unions Moscow May 28, 2025 Your attendance is required. -AR “Guess that explains Ivan’s departure the other night...” I said to no one but myself as I read the text over and over. Fuck, another last-minute trip on behalf of The Red Army. Worse, I promised Nico a couple weeks at home before we left Red Bear Retreat ahead of ReVival 69.

The faint sound of Instagram reels coming from the other side of the room tells me Nico’s already up. He’s been distant since last night; I wish I could say I didn’t understand why, but I do. It’s no secret.

“Hey kiddo, you up?” I already know the answer.

No response.

Give him time, I tell myself.

He’s too young.

He doesn’t understand.

He doesn’t get the desperation.

He doesn’t get how it’s all interconnected.

He doesn’t get that Sebastian Gold deserved it. 🍍🍍🍍 Surprisingly, it didn’t take much convincing to get Nico on board with coming to Moscow. Honestly, he seems happier about coming here than he does spending the last couple weeks with me.

It’s probably Arina.

The two have taken a liking to one another.

I’m still not sure about her after she dropped the bombshell about Kai on him.

The flight was long and uneventful. We were checked in to the hotel a couple days ago in downtown Moscow - another all expenses paid trip thanks to The Red Army. Apparently, it’s only a short walk from the House of Unions, where Fanya will be memorialized later today. I can only imagine the pomp and circumstance that a death of a Stanislav will command in this place.

Out of nowhere, he blurts, “Why did you do it?”

Of course, I could play dumb and do the whole “why’d I do what?” bit…but I’m getting tired of acting.

“It had to be done, Nico.” I’m right. It had to be done. Sebastian Gold is the entire reason this whole situation went to absolute shit. If he was the real friend he says he wanted to be, he wouldn’t have taken the Alias match in the first place. Instead, selfishness got the best of him, I guess? “He’s the reason we haven’t found Mom. He had to pay.”

You know how when you say something over and over to yourself, you start to believe it? I’m there now.

Apparently Nico isn’t buying it. “The reason we don’t have Mom is because you made a bad choice.”

More like choices, but I’m not gonna argue with the kid.

“I know you don’t understand. It’s not like this is a simple situation. Between Max, The Heralds, Sebastian and Crash–”

“Dad, you tried to kill them. I saw it with my own two eyes! How can you live with yourself?” His eyes well with tears. The kid’s too young to understand, I’ve gotta keep telling myself this.

But I’m living with myself because there’s gotta be a means to the end. Collateral damage. Whatever you wanna call it. Bash and Crash were that in this situation.

“I’m just trying to do what I can to find your Mom, Nico. The only way I know how is to do what Ivan needs me to do.”

“So Ivan asked you to do this?” He already knows the answer to the question.

“Does it matter?” Yes, to him.

My son is stone faced. Tired of the bullshit.

Me too, kiddo.

“Ivan understands.”

Jesus Christ, Bryan. What the fuck does that even mean? Ivan understands.

Stop sugarcoating it.

“So Ivan didn’t ask you to do it.” My silence is all the answer he needs.

KNOCK KNOCK

I peer through the peephole and pull open the door.

“Arina.” I nod and step aside to let Ivan’s young assistant glide into the room.

Her attire is simple - a black coat buttoned up to her neck, not so much as a hair out of place.

“Bryan. How are you?” Her eyes ping pong between Nico and I.

“I’m fine, thanks.” I look to my son, who has perked up since Arina entered the room.

“Arina!” His eyes light up. I remember when I looked at Kai that way…

A small smile breaks through her otherwise stoic expression. Clearly, today isn’t a day for joy around here.

Hell, I haven’t had joy in my life for over six months.

“It is time to go. Starshy Praporshchik needs us.”

The fuck? The memorial isn’t for hours.

“Uh… I’m not quite ready, in case you haven’t noticed.” The weather in Moscow the past few days has warranted my current outfit of a tanktop, shorts and flip flops. Better than the shit I had to wear during this Canadian tour.

Her smile fades. It’s replaced with disappointment.

“Give me two minutes!” Nico practically teleports into the bathroom and slams the door, leaving Arina and I to ourselves.

“You and Nico being here. It means much to Starshy Praporshchik. I hope you understand.”

I chuckle. “I’m not sure we had much of a choice, Arina.”

“Fanya Stanislav was great woman. You would have been honored to know her.”

Yet again, I’m jumping through hoops to appease Ivan and it’s not enough. Arina doesn’t understand someone not having unwavering allegiance to the Russian Bear.

“I’m sure she was. So is Kai… but I’m not sure anyone gives a shit about her anymore.”

Nico interrupts any opportunity Arina had to respond, emerging from the bathroom with a well-fitting black suit and tie. He’s a good looking young man.

His mother would be proud. And she’d know the right thing to do here.

“Look, it’s gonna take me a bit to get ready. We’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

“But…” she starts.

Nico volunteers. “I’m ready, I’ll come with you Arina.”

A sigh escapes my lips. I want him to stay with me… he’s a young man now and he’s probably better off with Arina anyway.

I’ve failed him so much… would I do it again?

“Fine. Arina - he’s your responsibility until I get there.” 🍍🍍🍍 My phone had told me Moscow had been unseasonably warm, so I dressed appropriately. Maybe Death was here in the capital, because today there were flurries in the air when the temperature had been in the 70’s for most of the week. I flip my sunglasses down onto my eyes and begin my trek, slowly meandering the streets of Russia’s capital city.

I fight the flow of foot traffic, mostly comprised of grieving Russians, and stick out like a sore thumb in doing so. It seems as if the entire city is lamenting the loss of Ivan’s mother and are all dressed for a funeral.

I, however, am not. I haven’t changed, and I don’t plan on it.

The reaction I get from my casual summer attire feels familiar. The pointing. The staring. The pure disgust.

It’s the same reaction I got after I strapped Sebastian Gold in for the ride of his life.

The more I get the reaction, the less it bothers me. I was mortified in the arena last night. What did I do? How could I do such a thing?

I find a bench looking out across the legendary Red Square of Moscow. The site of famous demonstrations, riots, parades, speeches and executions throughout Russian history. Centuries of history packed into an 800 thousand square foot area.

It’s shockingly quiet in the square. If people are talking, they’re doing it in hushed tones or whispers. The amount of respect that the Stanislav name carries is evident by the chokehold that Fanya’s death seems to have on the citizens of Moscow. They are traveling in droves to the House of Unions, mere blocks away from where I sit.

I have no intention of attending the funeral.

You can call it whatever you want.

Disrespectful.

Shameful.

Cowardly.

Selfish.

I don’t really care.

Ivan Stanislav made a promise to me when I joined the Red Army. He would help me find Kai. And yet here we are months later, no closer to finding Kai today than we were when Max took her back in January.

Did he let me get a small measure of revenge when I helped to oust Commissar Kael from The Red Army? Sure.

But he also has dangled my failures as a Red Army member in front of me at every opportunity.

My failure to make sure Ivan retained the Universal Championship at Culture Shock.

My failure to ensure his victory in Manhunt.

My failure to stockpile wins on behalf of The Red Army.

And specifically, my failure to retain the Alias Championship against Sebastian Gold when we stacked the deck in my favor.

The ringing of church bells tells me the service to celebrate Fanya Stanislav’s life has begun. The pace of mourning citizens increases as everyone seems to rush to get to the memorial. In their minds, this is a can’t miss event.

I’m more worried about the can’t miss opportunity sitting in front of me at UltraViolence.

I’ve got a chance to right the wrong from ReVival 62.

To prove I never should have lost the Alias Championship in the first place.

To prove that Sebastian Gold never deserved it. 🍍🍍🍍 I must’ve sat here for hours. The familiar church bells tolled, signifying the end of the memorial and celebration of Fanya. The mood in the square has lifted.

DING COMRADE DAWKINS REPORT TO IVAN’S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY -AR Even the waiting area in Ivan’s office is more impressive than the brand new one just put together at Red Bear Retreat. I take a seat in one of the overly ornate chairs and wait for someone - presumably Arina - to come get me.

BANG

My presumption was incorrect as Alexei throws the door open, causing it to slam into the wall behind it. He’s still in his dress attire from the event, a stark contrast to his normal drab brown appearance.

“DAWKINS! You disrespectful little fu–”

My fight or flight instinct kicks in - these days, it’s a lot more “fight” than “flight”. In an instant, I’m face-to-face with Ruslan. He lets out a small chuckle.

“Oh, so now you’re ready to be a man.”

“Enough, Alyosha.” The hallway immediately darkens as Ivan’s gigantic frame blocks the light from his office. He’s as imposing as ever, but Ivan looks… tired. I can tell he’s trying to hide it, but there’s no question he’s had a terribly emotional day. Still, past history tells me that an emotional Ivan Stanislav isn’t always a good thing.

“Dawkins. Inside. Now.”

His words are Siberian icicles. There’s no point in responding. It wasn’t even a question.

I start to head in Ivan’s direction but think better of letting Alexei walk behind me. Out of “respect”, I motion for him to proceed ahead of me.

“After you, bruh.”

Ruslan’s smirk boils my blood, but he makes a show of striding in after Ivan. “Shut the door behind you,” he says cockily. Ivan is already turning in front of his desk to face me, and Alexei wastes no time standing next to him.

The Bear doesn’t mince words, but rather than the expected bellowing and yelling, he’s quiet and muted.

“Where were you?”

I’m not here for an interrogation. Feels more like a firing squad.

“Does it matter? You know where I wasn’t, and that’s why I’m here.”

Ivan’s attack dog immediately bursts into threats. “You selfish son of a bitch!” Ruslan snarls, “Not only can you not win matches, but you cannot attend funerals!”

Ivan stares blankly in my direction. He lets Alexei cook.

“We can arrange more funerals if you want, Bryan Dawkins! I just have to get your son measured!”

The mere mention of Nico causes my blood pressure to rise and pulse to quicken. Alexei Ruslan has no idea what lengths a father will go to for his child.

I bite the inside of my lip to stifle any response as the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. I refuse to give Alexei what he wants.

“Why did we fly this dead weight all the way to Moscow, Vanya?” Ruslan asks Ivan and scoffs. He marches across the office, creating space between the two, and points a bony finger from afar. “We would have been better off collecting a bag of Fred Dick’s shit and used that to weigh the plane down instead!”

Alexei is spouting nonsense. Dead weight. Comparing me to a bag of feces. How original.

My focus isn’t on Ivan’s pet. It’s on the grizzly himself. For all I care, Alexei can talk until UltraViolence. I lock eyes with the bear.

I see Ivan’s upper lip curl slightly and tremble beneath his manicured beard. I don’t know if it’s rage, remorse, or a mix of both, but his words contrast sharply with Alexei’s biting barrage. “How dare you miss this moment of honor for my mother, for my family. Not only do I have to say goodbye to my her, but I have to be distracted by you?” He sounds like a disappointed, simmering father. “I would take Alexei up on his offer, but I don’t want your carcass fouling up Russian soil!”

This is a fucking joke. But this shows who Ivan Stanislav and Alexei Ruslan really are. Everything’s a fucking double standard. I’m supposed to show fucking reverance for his mother who I never met… but everything related to Kai is an afterthought.

I open my mouth to speak but am stopped by Ivan raising his giant paw. Apparently it’s still not my turn to speak. He straightens his back, towering over both Alexei and I like we’re small children and he’s the adult in the room. Even worse, he looks over at Alexei and talks as if I’m not even there.

“I am thinking, Alexei, we just keep Nico here instead. The boy would make better addition to Red Army than his disrespectful, middling father. No wonder Kai left him. Maybe we already have her, and she simply does not want to face mediocrity-made-flesh.”

In this moment, I have a decision to make, I could either…

You know what? Fuck that.

Before I can even process my decision, my fist crashes into Ivan’s eye with a force that surprises even me. The sound of the impact reverberates off the office walls, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Alexei's face frozen in shock, his eyes wide as he struggles to comprehend the fact that I just committed the unthinkable.

I just cold-cocked the legendary Russian Bear in his own den.

How did I get out of this? Well… that’s a more interesting story for another time. For now, I burst from Ivan’s office and make a bee-line for the exit.

DING

I almost ignore it, but given the threats against Nico moments ago, I have to check.

Not Nico. An unknown number. I hope you’re ready for UltraViolence! 🍍🍍🍍 Sebastian Gold - I’m now speaking directly to you.

Maybe you didn’t realize what you’d done when we faced off at ReVival 62.

I’m sure you thought this was just an opportunity for your big break. Your first shot at a title in PRIME.

Hell, you were the reigning Belmont winner - the hot young star. The Alias Championship was the next logical step.

Here’s the problem - when Max Kael handed you that win on a silver platter, you didn’t just take the title from me. No, no. You took far more.

You took my entire family from me. Kai is gone. Nico can’t stand to be around me anymore.

That’s all your fault, Sebastian.

This is now the third time we’ve faced off in less than a month. I know you. You think you know me.

What you don’t know is that I’ve changed. You don’t know that I punched Ivan Stanislav in the fucking face and lived to tell the tale.

I’m not sure you understand what I’m willing to do to end this.

To end you.

I’m walking out of UltraViolence with the Alias Championship once again. 🍍🍍🍍 Ivan Stanislav stewed in his office and felt his right eye throb from the seismic punch from Bryan Dawkins. Ruslan paced back and forth, fire coursing through his veins.

"I'll kill him right now, Vanya. To do that?! In this office?! On this day?! To you, of all people?!"

But Ivan simply sat there and rubbed his eye with the back of his hand. "No, Alexei," he growled.

Ruslan gawked at his comrade. Maybe the strain of Fanya's death was too much for him? But as Ivan lowered his fist to the table, The Bear smiled for the first time all day.

"He did exactly what I wanted." 🍍🍍🍍 Back at the Red Square for the second time today, this time because the adrenaline is wearing off and I’m not sure how much longer I can go on. I’m coming down from the high, but my mind is clear for the first time in months. A sense of relief washes over me.

DING

Nico?

No - the same unknown number. This time, with a picture captioned: GOOD LUCK! WE MISS YOU! It’s the Heralds, jammed into a picture that looks like it was taken on a Motorola flip phone from the early 2000s.