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      Kenny leaned back in his chair, took one last deep puff and put the cigarette out on the dark ceramic ashtray, standing on the desk in the middle of the paperwork. It was already filled with butts and ashes beyond measure. He’d promised his sister he wouldn’t smoke more than three in twenty-four hours. But it had been a crazy day, and it was still in no hurry to end, threatening to bring a couple more surprises. It was only about noon, and he had already managed to yell on probably all the subordinates, that came into his sight. Everything, absolutely everything, was overlapping and falling apart. Ackerman hated days like this.       Employees were scrambling as best they could to fix the collapsed communications with five expeditions, scattered around the globe in varying degrees of accessibility. Their people worked there, and communication with the main department of company could be needed at any moment. And satellite communications, which reached the most remote corners of the planet, decided to “rest”. In addition, secretaries nervously filed interim reports from security teams, which today were called to two objects at once: a bank, a chemical warehouse in a neighboring city. A strange combination.       There was either some kind of gang conspiracy or just an unfortunate coincidence. On any other shift, Kenny would have been in the communications room personally, watching the broadcast of subgroup negotiations, issuing commands, directing his men just as if he were on the call himself. But today he had a different kind of work to do. The owner of a private military company, somehow unbelievably suspended between legal and criminal status, was busy negotiating with potential clients. They too, precisely by universal conspiracy, had decided to postpone their meetings to this very date. December twenty-fifth.       Apparently, they were in a hurry to finish all their business before the new year, ignoring the fact that many people celebrated Christmas on that day. The man, who would be twenty-nine in the coming year, didn’t give a damn about all those holidays. Useless, silly fuss with a tinge of hypocrisy. But it was still a date that mattered. Big enough for a man, who had never had any illusions about the world and human nature. Today was his nephew’s birthday. Levi would be five years old.       And as an uncle, not quite conscientious and far from constantly fulfilling his kinship duties, he was invited to the celebration. At six o’clock this evening Kuchel and the boy, who sometimes looked at him so obliquely, were waiting for him at their house. Of course, he couldn’t refuse them, and after much persuasion from his little sister, he gave his word, that he would definitely come. And after hearing her rant about hiring a photographer for the birthday party, the man had said, he’d do it too. He’s the older brother, after all.       Of course Kenny had forgotten, he didn’t have time to look for a photographer. He didn’t even have a present for Levi. The man was so busy with his work, that he hadn’t remembered the existence of a personal secretary, who could take care of such matters. By the time he remembered, it was too late. He’s got a lot of ado going on here. A week’s worth of work, as if everything had been waiting for this one date. Ackerman, who twenty minutes ago had negotiated with a representative of Smith’s firm to provide guides to the remote Congo River region, got up from his leather-upholstered chair. Walked around his office, thinking about his schedule. There would be two more visits: a military venture under Zacclai’s leadership, a co-operation Kenny expected to be of mutual benefit.       New weapons are never a bad thing. And the specialized school, now run by a familiar instructor, Shaddis, who needed insurance for a training exercise in a troubled region. Both sides had to send representatives to his office, which he had made himself and raised on its feet from nothing. By himself, you might say, with his own very hands. Kenny grinned predatorily, his face with its delicate, aristocratic features turning into a killer’s grimace. He’d been eighteen when he’d fallen out with his parents, refused to go to the university, they’d chosen for him, and joined the army. Even his grandfather, who was old-school, didn’t support him.       Even then he was surprised and angered by the blind denial of his desires in the first place. He did not want to be educated, he felt that his vocation was in something else entirely. What man could fail to like the military? Strength, combined with experience, speaks louder than book knowledge. And his family lived in a troubled border region in the south of the country. Security was a concern, and there was money for military service. And his family could use it to move to a better place. Ackerman, striding across the room with a wide, springy stride, took out a packet of cigarettes, twirled it in his long fingers and grinned, sinking deeper into his thoughts.       The silly old men, always sure they knew best, did not accept the money, he sent them every month. They didn’t even take it for little Kuchel, who was ten or eleven. Blunt obstinacy had cost them their lives. One day burglars broke into the old house. The result was the death of my father and mother, and sister managed to climb out of the window and hide behind the fence. Grandad was on the night shift, working as a watchman at that time. Kenny left the military unit, where he was being promoted, and within twenty-four hours he was in a deserted house. After a heavy conversation with the grandfather, who did not hold back much in rebuking his prodigal grandson for not being there for them, they came to a vague agreement.       They will sell the old house, which, to be honest, was already breathing, and buy a flat in a better city. Safe schools for their sister and prospects. The old man refused to accept much help. He said he could manage on his own, without Kenny, who was always doing things his own way. Kenny didn’t understand it, but he had no desire to prove anything to anyone. So he went back to his “work”, not forgetting to send money, which kept coming back to his account. He was moving up the career ladder quickly, had been in hot spots, and invariably came back alive. With his height and physical development Ackerman was considered the most dangerous fighter in his unit. He was also a surprisingly accurate shooter.       He just never had any doubts, no hesitations about his job. Killing everyone on the other side of the barricade. Completing his assignments with precision. And by the gods, he was excellent at it, as if he’d been born on the battlefield. His instincts never failed him, his common sense never clouded by emotion. He combined some of the natural cunning of the beast with cold calculation. Nothing superfluous. He liked his “job.” And, like any particularly gifted person, at the age of twenty-one he was noticed by a mercenary. He suggested that Kenny to work for a private individual. With big pay, with a wide range of activities. And the young man accepted the offer, knowing perfectly well that this “job” would be much hatchet job, than the previous one.       He didn’t care about that. As a result, he travelled extensively to countries where such services were required. He learnt a lot of things, made a lot of useful connections. Life was going on beautifully, eventful. It tasted like sweet cedar honey. Ackerman felt truly alive. However, his usual way of life was soon shattered by news from home. Kuchel was pregnant. Apparently, his grandfather, who was slowly making his way towards his sixth ten, hadn’t seen it coming, or maybe something really crappy had happened. Kenny was furious. How the hell could this have happened? Grandpa used to chortle and say he’d be fine. And the young man had confidence in him. The elder relative’s burrow was stern, he stood firmly on the ground. This news made young Ackerman radically change his plans.              Quitting his favorite place, returning to his native country, moving to the city where his family lived, awaiting an unplanned addition. The meetings were turbulent. Kuchel was also defending the baby’s life. Kenny was furious, she was seventeen, her whole life was ahead of her, and with a little bastard in her arms, it would be very hard for her. But, try as he might, abortion remained a mere word. The sister, with a remarkable stubbornness in which he recognized, with a hardened heart, his own youthful self, refused not only a reasonable offer, but also a large sum of money. She dutifully accepted only a very small contribution from her brother. The girl did not name the father of the child, no matter how much he demanded it. By the sadness and desolation in her dark gray eyes, Ackerman realized that everything was not consensual. He wanted to find him, wanted to cut off his balls, feed them to him, and then kill him long and slowly, but his sister kept silent.       Kuchel was a beauty, of course, some scumbag taking advantage of someone else’s youth and innocence. A neat face, delicate features, as if painted by some renaissance artist. Thick dark hair, reaching to a thin, girlish waist, contrasted favorably with porcelain skin. A beautiful figure, rounded where a woman should be. And that lively gaze, full of a strange understanding and attentiveness, now faded. His sister had assured and insisted that she could handle it on her own, and all Kenny had to say was that he would be there for her if she needed him for anything. That smile of Kuchel’s he kept in his heart for a long time to come. She’s strong, she’ll get through this if she so chooses. He began to do what he wanted to do, as he always did.       First he made a couple of acquaintances with the gangs that ran around in the big cities nearby. He did a couple of filthy jobs for a lot of money, for which he earned even more contempt from his grandfather, who refused to talk to him at all. The young man just shrugged his shoulders and continued on his winding way. After about six months, the thought came into his head that there weren’t many security organizations in the state. So Ackerman decided to fill that gap. And in order not to limit his freedom of action, he decided to run the whole thing as a private mercenary company. He had accumulated a decent amount of capital, he had connections and fame, and his track record looked excellent. What made him any worse than anyone else? He wasn’t. Kenny set about his business, building it meticulously, carefully choosing employees, building a scheme of work, increasing efficiency and functionality.       In the first months he had to run like hell, to take on the simplest jobs, and sometimes even to overstep the law, but he was not afraid to “stoop” to such things. And gradually the business went uphill. The staff grew, even a couple of former coworkers joined him, contracts became more and more diverse. And then a large and extremely successful agreement with the company Reiss, which was conducting research and search for earth resources. They were the ones who mostly hired guards for their expeditions, sending them all over the world, sometimes to places that were not the safest. They needed experienced guides who knew the region and could react to the most unusual situations. Kenny had one of those. After a couple of assignments, which he led personally, Ackerman got acquainted with the owners of this company: brothers Rod and Uri Reiss. The relationship with the first was strained at first sight, but with the second everything worked out just fine.       He would never have believed that people could have such an understanding. Uri had even quietly turned a blind eye to the fact that Ackerman’s company sometimes overstepped the law by doing some business on the side. And from then on, he was the only one the Reisses turned to. Added security for this large family with a rich history. And that meant steady, handsome profits. Very good. In the time it took Kenny to get back on his feet, Kuchel gave birth. He couldn’t take her to the hospital as he wanted to, he just came back from his mission and rushed to the maternity hospital. He had only miraculously made it in time for his nephew’s birth. He ran down the corridor, wearing an idiotic white coat over a uniform he hadn’t had time to change.       He heard his sister’s cry in the distance and felt an unusual anxiety for her. At the door sat the slouching grandfather. They exchanged nods, and before young Ackerman could even think of what to say, a child’s cry was heard. A couple of minutes later, a nurse came out and announced that a boy had been born and that the young mother was fine. Kenny only nodded, overwhelmed by uncertainty, and headed out, not going in to see Kuchel, leaving everything to his grandfather. He himself came to see her the next day. Sis smiled warmly at him, saying she understood why he hadn’t come to see her yesterday. In her arms she held an incomprehensible sniffling bundle. She then said: “Look, Levi, it’s your Uncle Kenny.”.       The man looked into that wrinkled, pink face and saw that the boy’s eyes were as gray as any Ackerman’s. The infant’s gaze he might have called suspicious, or it only seemed that way to him. In his arms he did not take him, no matter how Kuchel begged him. His hands were not for holding babies. No, they were for something else completely. And when the baby reached out a tiny, chubby hand toward him, he almost recoiled. And for this, his sister put up with everything? All nine months, some of which she had worked out of pride, and the fact that the baby didn’t come from great love? Kenny didn’t understand, but when he saw the tears of joy in sister’s eyes and the look on her face, the love she literally radiated from her skin, he walked over, put his hand on the baby’s head and said: “Well, hello, Levi.”.       Almost five years have passed since then. And the man tried to visit his sister before she started bothering him with messages and calls. Her business went well, she worked as a seamstress and received many orders. Her grandfather helped her, stayed sometimes with his great-grandson, in whom he cared a lot. Young Akkerman didn’t build his personal life, he didn’t need it all. He had enough of casual relationships, changed girls often, and didn’t dwell on moral issues. He could get any girl he wanted. The problems remained on the family side. Kenny didn’t know how to behave with the kid, but when he showed up at his sister’s house, he showed the kid tricks with harmless sticks, taught him how to hold pencils, taught him how to walk, which neither Kuchel nor Ackerman Sr. could do.       And in all this there was a vague shadow of Kenny’s unhappy profession. It was as if he were training the boy for something, and there was something wrong not in the care, but in the way it was shown. The man showed it as best he could, however, and he didn’t show up at his sister’s house often enough to have a very detrimental effect on a boy growing up without a father. Too often family gatherings were nervous because of his grandfather, who looked disapprovingly at his adult grandson. But he had no right to miss today. His sister was going to give him a hard time, and he wasn’t ready for a bald head or gray hair.