Chapter Text
"And thanks to the great Ivan Braginsky for donating ₽100000 to the railway repairs--"
The sound of the announcer's voice, deep, booming and disgustingly American, rang out among the small crowd of villagers. You would have thought, for someone so important-sounding, that he would have been announcing to a crowd of loyal fans, or sportsmen. But the faces of the ragtag crowd beneath him seethed with hatred. His name was Alfred F. Jones, and he was an American man sent by the US Army to be stationed in this tiny Russian mining town in the wake of the Cold War. Except they never took him back. And now he was stuck here.
"Anyway, just return to your mining stations."
The crowd of villagers shuffled off. They hate me, Alfred thought to himself. He fiddled with a button on his coat, wondering why the Soviets hadn't taken him prisoner. But then again, no one ever seemed to come to this town.
The dark shadow of a tall, broadshouldered man loomed slowly in front of him.
"You did well. Maybe they'll like you one day."
The deep, almost melodic voice sent shivers down Alfred's spine. It, of course, belonged to Ivan Braginsky, the powerful head of the family that ruled Braginskya from the shadows. After the mysterious death of Ivan's parents, he had become the head of the Braginsky family. The title was traditionally passed down to the oldest child, Ivan's sister Katya, but she was deemed in an 'unfit state' by Ivan himself.
Ivan pushed a stack of money into Alfred's cold hand.
"For your services to the town, Jones."
"Thank you, sir."