Last night of Freedom

[Lukyan Lyubof]

The intro of this piece is from the fanfiction competition however once I wrote this I didn’t want to enter but I thought I’d share it anyway.
It’s a light hearted take on the situation Lucas seems to be in and it came to me straight away as I read it.
Hope you enjoy!

Last night of Freedom

Running through the bustling London market, he pushes past early morning shoppers. Merchants' shouts reverberate around the square, their offers ringing in his ears as he runs faster. The Russians are closing in; he sprints for all he is worth, knowing the commotion behind him is doubling as his Russian pursuers push the same path through the crowd. He runs down an alley and hides in an alcove, pulling his phone from his pocket. Young, healthy lungs are racked as he tries to draw breath and wipes the blood from the mobile's screen. He dials.

"Tom? It's Lucas; get me out of here NOW!"

‘Lucas, where are you? What’s happened, you’re supposed to be on leave?’
‘I’m in Covent Garden and I really need you to get me out of here. I’ve got Russians following me, I’ve wacked my head on a post of one of the stalls and have blood pouring down my face.’
‘Do you know who the Russians are?’ There was a pause; Lucas could hear voices in the background. ‘We’ve just sent a car to get you; do you want to go back to your place?’
‘No, Elizaveta’s at the house, I’m staying in a hotel. The Russians, they’re my soon to be in-laws.’
‘Well I wish you luck.’

As Tom hung up Lucas really wished his training had prepared him for a situation like this. He wished fervently that he hadn’t gotten so drunk last night during the stag do. His last night of freedom. They’d all been having a good time; drinks were flowing and the strippers entertaining. Sometime during the evening Lucas had become so drunk he’d decided it would be a good idea to ring his last girlfriend and tell her she didn’t know what she was missing. She of course had no idea who it was because the Lucas she had gone out with was a kind, sober, English man. The one who rang her in the early hours of the morning was course, drunk and Russian. He may have been drunk but he’d had the presence of mind to keep the fake accent going. A few drinks later and he was kissing one of the bar maids. Big mistake. His soon to be Russian family members were not impressed.

As the stitch in his side eased he straightened up and saw the Russian men turning down the alley and coming to a halt in front of the alcove. No-where to go.
‘Look, brothers, I love her, with all my heart I love her and I would do nothing to lose the love she gives me. I was drunk, I got carried away. Hell you encouraged me to have those last drinks.’ He stopped in surprise the burly Russians were laughing.
Elizaveta’s brother took pity on him. ‘Lukyan we are not angry, it was a test. You love Vyeta, we can see that.’
‘Thank god, I thought I was going to turn up to my wedding with a black eye. And I have to thank you gentlemen, all this fresh air and running around has cleared my hangover. I now feel sick but no more headache.’ With that he pulled out his phone to cancel his ride from Tom and walked out of the alley with his new family. The future looked bright.