The Tiger and the Dragon by George deValier

Chapter 2

After only a few minutes, Yao started to wonder if it was the wine that had made him make such an insane decision. He certainly did not feel as confident as he had a moment ago. He glanced up at the man walking beside him to find the man looking back, and Yao quickly looked away.

"Do you know... there is paper on your neck," came that thick Russian accent.

"Oh," said Yao, feeling himself go red as he reached up and ripped it off. "I forgot about that, my friend put it there."

"My name is Ivan," said the Russian, stopping and extending a hand to Yao.

"Oh," repeated Yao. He crumpled the streamer in his hand and dropped it before taking Ivan's hand. It was much larger than his own, and surprisingly gentle. "I'm Yao."

"Pleased to meet you, Yao! My bar is behind you."

"Oh," said Yao, nearly kicking himself. Could he say anything else? He turned to find a dark doorway cut into the street wall behind him. If you didn't know it was there you could easily miss it. "Your bar, you say."

"Da, my bar. Shall we?"

Yao followed Ivan through a narrow, dark hallway that led into a small, even darker room. Ivan threw his trench coat over the back of a couch and pulled out a stool at the bar for Yao. Yao sat down warily, glancing around at the entirely empty room. There was a circle of couches in the centre, a few dimly lit overhanging lamps, and no windows. He could feel himself growing anxious.

"What do you think of my bar?"

"Oh... it's... well, it's..." It's dark and creepy and there's one exit and I feel like I'm in a gangster movie and Oh God you actually do kind of look like a gangster... "It's nice."

"Ah, it is not much, but it is convenient."

Convenient for what? "So, this is what you do? You run a bar?"

"No, no. This is just a small part of my operations."

"Your...ah. And, um...what would..." Yao trailed off, realising at this point that some part of his brain had shut down and he was incapable of thinking of a single thing to say. He sat there, silent, cheeks burning, as Ivan just smiled at him politely as though expecting him to go on. Just when Yao was on the verge of either running for his life or passing out, he heard a voice beside him.

"Can I get you a drink, sir?"

Yao nearly hugged the bartender. Instead, he turned to him and politely enquired if it was possible to get a cup of tea. He wasn't sure drinking was a good idea.

The young bartender raised one eyebrow. "No," he replied. Ivan laughed softly.

"Oh. Well. In that case I'll have a glass of wine. Please."

"Red or white?"

Oh God. "White." Then again, maybe a few drinks for confidence wasn't such a bad idea after all.

The bartender nodded and busied himself preparing the drinks. He was very good looking, with shoulder length brown hair and large sad eyes. Yao thanked him as he handed him a large wine glass. He just nodded again before placing a bottle of vodka and a glass in front of Ivan.

"Spasiba, Toris," smiled Ivan. Toris looked terrified of Ivan which didn't do anything for Yao's nerves. Ivan poured the vodka into the glass and raised it to Yao. "Za vas," he said, shooting back the glass and pouring another.

Yao simply nodded in reply, hoping that wasn't rude. "Is your bar always this quiet?" he asked after taking a very long sip of his wine.

Ivan shrugged. "My bar is very select. It is, how would you say, invitation only. And tonight you are only guest, Yao." Ivan smiled that ever present smile.