Katia’s family was...weird. Her aging and mentally deteriorating babushka was one thing. She had a fourteen year old, somewhat chunky male cousin-once-removed named Vasily who gave zero shits about laws of any sort and liked to hack into advanced government systems for fun, and Vasily had a cousin named Anya who, even at the age of sixteen, had a deep-seeded fetish for twenty to twenty-five year old gangsters, the latest of whom was named Vladislav and dealt in everything from slave girls to narcotics to racketeering and protection. She should at least show some taste and go for someone who had a more definite career path, but that was Katia’s opinion on the whole point.
Then there was Aunt Aleksa, and she was...impossible to categorize. Katia’s initial instinct was that she was an overly judgmental harpy who made 47 look downright generous by comparison, but apparently she had her own tales to tell of the KGB and other, similar arms of “The Man” that seemed to unilaterally affect all her siblings and herself. Katia’s father, for one. Aleksa was fond of mentioning an uncle Katia would’ve had but he’d been in Siberia for years and if he came back alive she would give up her worldly goods and go become a nun, because clearly God existed if that was the case. (Katia, curious, had asked Vasily’s help in looking for him, and he’d provided it to the best of his ability, but no luck yet.)
Originally Katia wanted 47 to meet her family members, because he seemed like the most ‘lost soul’ of all the bunch that she knew so far, and she thought it might do him some good. But of course this Bellamy bitch had him stationed in Miami (which in and of itself wasn’t bad, but fucking Bellamy!) so instead Katia used the extra money set aside to take another of her brothers along, and now she was working at a molasses-in-January pace through customs with 35 right behind her.
Finally she was cleared, and she stepped to the side to wait for him, listen to him answer the same questions she had to. Props to the Ukrainian government for customs consistency. ...which is an odd thing to give props for, Katia noted, creasing her brow. Finally 35 was allowed through, and she walked up to him, headed ultimately toward the baggage claim. “You ready for this?” she asked. “Dad’s family’s cool, for sure, but...they’re a little odd sometimes.”