บท 5: Part 5
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Enjoying green tea in the same cafe, I was chatting with Harry via popular messenger and flirting with the cute blonde girls across the table from me. Having agreed to hang out with the younger Osborne in one of the nightclubs, I drank my tea while waiting for my friend, continuing to play peek-a-boo with the pretty girls. When I finally finished my tea, I easily sat down with the girls and, having started a dialogue, smoothly led them to the idea that it would be nice to hang out somewhere before the new week. It wasn't long before Harry pulled up in his brand new sports car. Slightly surprised by my activity, he immediately switched to the cute blondes, who were ready to go to Everest with us, if this was a club and not what you thought.
- It's been a long time since we've had this much fun, old man. - Osborne was beaming with satisfaction.
- He did. - With a wink to the girls, Harry and I went off to have a word. - Where are we going?
- I was thinking of the Night City; it's a pretty good club, with upbeat music, good drinks, and fun pills. - Osborne grinned, but when he caught my disgruntled look, he changed the subject. - A classy and moderately pleasant place. Are you with me, or are we looking for something else? - Harry answered thoughtfully.
- Fine. I want to get drunk, and that's all that matters. - I said sparingly.
- I don't recognise you, little brother, but I already like the new you, so I don't care, we're getting drunk tonight. - Osborne clapped me on the shoulder and went to put our new companions in the back of the car.
As I settled comfortably in the seat, I connected my phone to the car's stereo system. As I turned on the upbeat rock, I got a surprised look from Harry and a happy laugh from the girls, who apparently appreciated the playlist.
- Pete, do you want to come and work for our company after your studies? My dad asks about you every week. You could be my advisor in a couple of years, and then maybe managing director of the whole Ozcorp conglomerate. Think about it, and your father worries, because you're like a son to him, and you're like a little brother to me. - Ozborn smiled slyly, like a real tempter-snake, and what's to say, if I had no plans, I would have immediately agreed to such a generous offer of an old friend.
- I'd love to, but only as a consultant or unofficial assistant. You remember that I want to move science forward, and Ozcorp might get something out of it. After my studies I was planning to take a job with Victor von Doom with a possible internship in faraway Latveria, so I'll have to pass. But that doesn't stop us from continuing to be friends, does it? - Harry smiled, as if he didn't expect me to say otherwise.
- We'll always be friends, bro, really? And who else would put up with a bore like you, Pete? So don't worry, I'm not gonna let you go. By the way, how long have you been a rock fan? - Osborne, still smiling, began to ask some uncomfortable questions. - I don't remember you having a taste for music. Textbooks, yes, but music? You never cease to amaze me, Pete, because you can't change so drastically over a weekend. And why rock? Have you adopted my father's musical preferences, little brother? - Harry laughed amicably.
- You're right as always, old friend. As soon as I got a smartphone, I started listening to all Norman Osborne playlists and rock. Do you think it's contagious, and how long before you're a carbon copy of your dad? - Using sarcasm, I got a frightened look on my mate's face, but after a moment he smiled, appreciating the snide answer. - Well, seriously, I got tired of listening to the radio, and I started looking for something new. As you can see, I'm still looking. Or are you against good old rock, Harry? - Osborne thought for a moment.
- I don't like rock, cos you can't really dance to it. My thing is clubs and lighter stuff, and your music is just for laughing, and you've got some heavier stuff on, but you can listen to it in the car, so don't worry about it. Speaking of the new phone, where'd you get the green from? Did you rob someone? Or did Aunt May finally give you her old smartphone? - Osborne smiled wryly.
- Earned it. - I said succinctly.
- Interesting. Tell me about it. - Harry was immediately interested.
- I sold a couple of photos and one interesting video, and made a little money on the insider's tip.
- Compromise? I see. - Osborne smiled slyly again. - Not a single baby tear was shed, I hope? That's not your style, old chap. I didn't think you'd go for it, but there you are. I hope those weren't topless pictures of me. You couldn't have, or I wouldn't know you at all, mate. - Harry continued to sneer. - What about the video? Was there anything interesting in it? - Harry was still on the fence about it.
- Nothing interesting, I just happened to be in the right place at the right time, and then I sold it all to the TV people, so I made money, any more questions? - Osborne, unable to find anything to answer my attentive gaze, remained tactfully silent.
So, in silence, we reached the club. 'Night City was a closed place, located in an underground station that had never been completed. This slightly added to its colour and peculiar charm. I don't like subways, I was always uncomfortable in places that tended to go as deep underground as possible. Subways are okay, but a nightclub? That's original, but not for me. I've never been keen to go underground before my time.
Leaving the car and helping our companions out, we were soon standing like everyone else at the entrance to the underground, but Harry quickly solved the misunderstanding by showing the three tall Mongols his platinum card and handing them each a hundred quid.
Going downstairs, I immediately appreciated the gothic style of the club and the ubiquitous neon. However, there was a peculiar smell of something stinking, but let's put it down to the creator's idea, not to the drug addicts marking their territory. Having taken 'VIP' seats, we immediately ordered a couple of shots of vodka, because you have to start somewhere, don't you? Alcohol of the brand 'Putyovyi' was really good. Then there were different kinds of whiskey and all kinds of cocktails. Then Harry and I went dancing, and the girls were already drunk.
After a couple of hours and another bottle of vodka, we were already talking philosophically about life, and the blondes were sleeping sweetly, cuddled together. What can you take from them, amateurs. Jumping from foreign policy to economics and back again, we somehow unknowingly latched on to the topic of heroes.
- I think our city needs heroes. - Osborne drunkenly proclaimed. - Look at all this filth on the streets. Drugs, guns, cults and just plain dangerous lunatics. And the main advantage is that they don't need benefits, insurance and salaries, just think what a saving? I understand that you're in favour of legalising these freaks in tights, but wouldn't that make them fewer? It's one thing to work for free for the good of mankind, but service for the good of the country is a completely different matter, don't you think? - Harry suddenly spoke soberly.
- You're right. But I'll stick to my point, because without control they're just a bunch of masked vigilantes. Yes, they have their advantages, but who knows what they have in mind and when they'll decide to change their colours? The difference between a 'hero' and a villain is only in who the police are after, because one or the other is engaged in illegal activities. The only question is, why do we call some of them knights and others mythical dragons when they are all human? - Ozbourne nodded sleepily, but he didn't bother to parry my words, only filled two more shots with Irish whiskey and drank one of them in one gulp, without a snack. - We need something that can settle these upstarts and stop the school masquerade, because all these mutants, heroes and other antisocial personalities threaten national security. I mean, there's Stark, right? He's a simple man with a high-tech suit, what prevents us from repeating his experience and suppressing 'possible' dangers with an overwhelming level of technology? It's a dangerous time to be alive, Harry,' my companion nodded laconically, draining his shot. I noticed a stranger dressed as a priest with an assault rifle in his hands and a solid dagger with a silver cross.
Stepping into the very centre of the hall and scaring away the disgruntled with his rifle and 'cross', the priest achieved complete silence and a disgruntled hiss in his direction. Behind the zealot, a massive-looking mulatto in a black cloak walked as if unintentionally.
- In the name of the Holy Throne, I call you to purification, dark creatures. Perish in the light of the Inquisition. - He laughed madly as he fired a generous line into the crowd, and for a second I was frozen by such barbarism, but then the inexplicable began.
Some of the fallen immediately crumbled into ashes or turned into bare bones, and the rest tried to escape, hissing angrily. What the hell is going on here? This is supposed to be a normal club, isn't it? Well done, Harry. Soon the priest's ammunition was empty, and he took up his silver dagger and even managed to stab someone with it, but he was literally torn apart. The mulatto just shook his head and, pulling out a massive katana from its sheath, began to chop like cabbage all the attackers, which with terrifying speed crumbled to ashes or crumbled into pieces of still warm flesh and surprisingly easy to crush bones.
- I fucking hate vampires... - the ghoul who tried to drag our companions away immediately received a powerful blow in the jaw with his tibia. The next aggressive individual got a right hook to the bridge of his nose, but I didn't calculate the force, but I fractured his skull and he turned out to be quite alive, if we can judge by the fact that he didn't crumble into ashes.
Crushing the head of the hissing vampire with my boot, I pulled out my old Colt 1911, though it wouldn't do much against the undead. I even managed to fire a couple of shots at drunken mates from nosferatu or ghouls, but it didn't have much effect, though I did stop three 'people', or whatever they were. And, it seems, with a guarantee, though who knows what the undead are like. In a couple of minutes it was all over. As I could see, the mulatto with the katana used ultraviolet grenades, which burned the hell out of all those things. After another three minutes, when Osborn was sobering up and trying to figure out what was going on, the stranger came up to me and kindly handed me a business card.
- Well done. - The anthracite business card had only the succinct words 'Blade' and a number to call the liquidator. Apparently I was noticed and appreciated, well done?
Waking up Harry was surprised to find pieces of bodies at his table, clearing his stomach abruptly he stared at me in bewilderment. What about me? I have a high metabolism and I sober up pretty quickly, so I'm not involved.
- That's loud. Where's the music and what the hell was going on while I was asleep? - Osborne asked indignantly. - Some kind of theme night? - he asked hopefully. - My head is pounding, what was drinking? And why are you so chipper? - holding his head, the camaraderie sat down at the table again, throwing someone's leg away in a squeamish manner.
- No, brother, it's not thematic at all. It's more of a gastronomic one. You'd better tell me where you've brought us. All right, let's get out of this vampire nest. Next time I get to pick the club. - After helping my friend up and getting sober, we walked slowly to the car, carrying the girls gently in our arms. It looked like their cocktails were a fierce mixture of alcohol and sleeping pills.
Having explained to my mate where we had gone, already in the car, I only watched his shocked face with a frozen grimace of horror. And who wants to become someone's dinner? Having woken up the girls not at the first attempt and with the help of some mother, we drove them home. Well, as we did, since I was the only one sober, I had to act as chauffeur.
Having parked Harry's car in the underground garage and bailed him out by the kind butler, I went home and met the elder Osborne at the door. Norman offered me a private driver, but I declined and left on my own, for it was such a beautiful night. When I reached the underground and then home, I quietly opened the door and went to shower and then to bed.
- Home, sweet home...' I said, yawning sweetly and immediately falling into the realm of Morpheus.
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