Chapter 10: XCI-C 1/2

Author's Note : There are five 'errors' in the story at this point, people. Meaning there are five things, so far, that are or are not so obviously wrong from our historic standpoint. There will be more, but as of now there are only those five. You can't expect this reality to have a large number of murderous people who can and will put a bullet through other people's heads without changing a few things.

Two we already went through, Adolph Hitler being assassinated and the existence of Mafia Land/a wide and encompassing underworld trade on violence. They are two of the major main ones, which had a knock on effect to spread around and result in the rest. Another got spotted, we weren't near the point Sonya realizes it on her own but I did reshuffle a few things to put it in now. There are two more, which are technically related to the same sector/ideal/progress and one even spawned a mini-result that's already been noted but not realized. I was supposed to put that warning in back when we started this part of the story, with Hitler getting whacked. Again, very sorry. I'm backdating this warning and will put it in on that chapter's AN by my next post.

Which one got spotted? The euro existing in the 1960s. How and why that happened to the point it is a valid currency in this story is now our opening scene. Yes, we got derailed again, though this one is my fault. Your author is a scatterbrained twit some days.

Additionally, AO3 has the 'clean' copy of this story for downloading and reading later purposes. I don't put up Author's Notes on that one unless it's story-wise corrections relevant like that warning up there, but I do have that nifty comment system over there so I answer questions more often.

Again, "this" is English and "this" is whatever other language is begin spoken which unless otherwise noted, is Russian.

Edited (4/25/2017) - Minor story corrections and additions.

Edit (3/19/2018) - Final formatting and minor corrections.

Edited (9/6/2018) - Minor corrections.

Russian Roulette : Reloaded

XCI-C

XCI (Monday the 16th of August, 1965. Mafia Land Ferry.)

Cherep might not be disembarking when their ship docked at Mafia Land, but Sonya would be.

Mostly to change money from one currency to another, the Soviet Union's ruble to American dollars, and partially to check in just in case Tatiana sent her something. She hadn't, but no news was good news in their business.

She got semi-decent rates at the money changers that had set up shop right in the middle of the arrival port terminal, though she lost about ten kopeks per ruble to switch a decent amount over. Technically she was trading a ruble for ninety-three cents and due to the slight imbalance, she got a small amount of her euros swapped over to make up the difference.

With their traveling funds ready to go, Sonya returned to the ship. It really was merely a stopover rather than an actual destination so there wasn't a whole lot of time left.

It wasn't until she got back to the berth she was sharing with Cherep that she cracked open a few of the brochures that had been available in the currency exchange branch. Money laundering wasn't a skill she ever expected to know herself, but it could be interesting to see what services the island had for it.

Then the modern European history she studied as Rachel came back with a vengeance and gave her a headache.

As far as she had known, studied, and then got a degree in another life; the euro hadn't been in circulation until just before the twenty-first century. It had been an idea suggested just after World War One, the very forerunner of the attempts to simplify the various currencies Europe was the European Unit of Account. That had only happened in the late 70s, which had been followed by the European Currency Unit four years later until the actual currency named 'euro' came into being on the first of January 1999.

Yet… Sonya had been using euros since their first Mafia Land visit, nearly four years ago. It was practically the only currency the various shops and services on the island used, though certain places could make change in other ones by request.

She picked through several more brochures, which were pretty much mostly things the island's various banks offered as services. Offshore accounts, round-robin investments for the actual laundering of cash, the currency exchange and their current rates, advisement for other countries and their tax laws, a couple warnings for counterfeiters about trying to exchange fakes on Mafia land.

It was only when she reached the few handouts on various denominations available and where they were accepted that she got any sort of answer for the euro question.

The 'euro' was billed as a mafia-wide approved fixed currency, something that had taken some effort to implement but allowed a standard rate to be enforced for certain services.

Apparently, that had once been a problem. Certain merchants/services had been competing to be cheap and affordable but only if you paid in their currencies of choice. The 'new' euro was claimed to have fixed that, even though the blonde thief knew of a French restaurant that rather preferred being paid in francs if possible and tended to give a slight discount if so.

How much all of that was true or not was questionable, as her only source was currently a Mafia Land flyer for it, but it billed the implementation as a 1957 occurrence.

Which beat out what Rachel had known as the first implemented version of a spanning European currency, the Unit of Account, by about twenty years. It wasn't entirely widespread, but enough so that if you traveled in Europe the best bet was to carry euros on you unless you knew what country you would wander into next.

Sonya tucked the fold out into her current leisure book, trying to adjust to that.

What else had a widely active mafia influenced?

As far as she had been able to look, there wasn't anything else that stood out in history… though, of course, the 'euro' was probably modern history and not in older editions of textbooks for the subject.

…or as modern as possible given that the Storm-Cloud was somehow living in a variation of Rachel's history.

She sighed and gave up on worrying about it, as there was nothing she could do nor was there anything she had to do about it. The euro just was, thirty-forty years before it should have become a thing.

Another Berlin Wall thing, from the look of it. It had happened, a hell of a lot sooner than she had expected, but at least it was a good thing.

Rather, a thing that helped ensure she wasn't getting underpaid for her work rather than a 'for the good of Europe and preventing WW3' thing.

"Hey, Sonya? Why… are there fake passports and identification papers being given out?"

She broke out of her thoughts, peering at the paperwork Cherep had walked into their stateroom with. He had two passports, what seemed to be French birth certificates, and was fingering a driver's license that looked to be issued in the same country.

"Huh. I wasn't sure if they would get done that fast."

He gave her a suspicious look, cracking one of the passports open to compare the names and dates given. "It's me… but I'm sure my name isn't 'Charles Monraeu'… and I'm sure I'm not born in France."

"Of course, you're not. It's a name close enough to your own you can answer to and French is a language we speak." She left her luggage alone next to her bed and stalked over to snag her own fake passport. "Mafia Land has an arrangement with certain ports and port authorities around the world. This is kind of like a mafia work visa, in a way. It'll let us into the country for a certain amount of time, until the fakes are removed from their immigration database when said time runs out and we need to be gone."

Her brother's expression was a fair cross between bemused and incredulous. "Really? They're going to just let us wander in and out of the country… just like that?"

"No. They're going to let me wander in and out of the country for a hefty price, you're just along for the ride."

Mafia Land was pretty much the height of 'international' in the underworld. It could work as a smuggling point for all sorts of different things, but the main use was getting in and out of countries in a fast hurry.

It might be cheaper and at least for long term to do it on your own, but if you needed speed Mafia Land's ship routes were the best way.

"I think you've blown whatever faith I had in international border patrols."

"Oh good. At least I did something this week."

XCII (Thursday the 19th of August, 1965. Skidaway Island, Chatham County, Georgia, United States of America.)

Cherep's deadpan expression as they moved through the mafia version of immigration was a work of art. Given Sonya had pretty much done everything from steal to beat the tar out of fellow Mafiya brats in front of him… that was saying something.

Both sets of passports got looked at and the fakes stamped, their real ones secreted away in a false pocket of her luggage. Their fake paperwork got verified as coming up 'legal', a short reminder given on the deadline they had to be out of the country by, then they were released into the southern edge of the state of Georgia.

"If you really want to lose faith in humanity, I could tell you that no one there was actually a legal representative of the US government. They are from the mob that control the drug trade and smuggling rings in this part of the country, who get paid a decent amount to let this kind of thing happen." She informed him in French, smirking at his less than impressed look. "Oh, come on, Charles. It's probably not the most illegal thing you've ever done."

The thief's French was attracting a bit of attention, curious more than suspicious, but not nearly as much as her supposedly native Russian would have. Her fellow Cloud, having already been warned repeatedly about speaking it, responded in the same language.

"Again, not helping… Sarah." He pulled a face at her given alias, grabbing the door handle before she could. "Who came up with these names?"

"Trust me, they do get worse if you try to complain."

Mafia people either had no sense of humor or had a very twisted, strange one. She was just happy there was some measure in place that ensured at least initials remained the same.

'Sarah Noel' wasn't the best name she had ever gotten stuck with using that service, but it wasn't the worst either. She really preferred the 'Serra Novae' identity she used in Italy.

They were posing as a couple, just simply because she didn't want to dye her hair purple to make the cover work as siblings. The purple fading would turn pink with her blonde hair, and she didn't want to go around with pink hair for a couple months until it faded the rest of the way or grew out.

Trying to figure out how to bleach Cherep's hair was entirely more effort than Sonya really wanted to bother with.

"Good morning! How can I help such a lovely couple?"

Blinking and turning her gaze from her supposed 'significant other' to the salesman with a very painful looking smile, the thief tried for her own awkward smile. "Yes? We are here to rent an automobile. We will not need it longer than a month."

"Oh good, you do speak English."

"Hey, can we get a sports car here?"

"Well… one of you do."

She gave the salesman a smaller but more real smile, backhanding her brother in the gut maybe a touch to hard. "Excuse me a moment, sir. We do not need a damn muscle car for this trip."

The man gave an awkward head bob, hesitated for a moment, then wandered off to prepare some paperwork for them.

"If you're going to be… 'moving' something in a fast hurry we might." He informed her haughtily, sneaking a couple glances out to the parking lot and all the shiny cars sitting in the sunlight they had walked past. "Might as well have one ready and not need it than get chased down driving something old and clunky."

"Moving is the best term you can come up with?" Sonya scoffed lightly but knew herself well enough to start calculating out how much she'd have to shell out for his desired model of car. "And Charles, my work is not so shoddy it will require us to pull out like that. I'm insulted you even suggested it."

"Sorry, sorry." Neither looking nor sounding very contrite, Cherep scratched the back of his head and tried for a very charming smile. "Please? For me? Oh… for my birthday!"

"I gave you your present already."

"Ah… miss? I need you to fill a few forms out. Only a formality, really, but the company needs to know where you're going, and a few insurance liability papers signed by the… uh, driver."

The blonde thief frowned at him, casting her fellow Cloud a glance of his own before walking over to see what it was they wanted her to fill out. "I don't suppose you have something 'sporty'? My boyfriend wants something fast, you see."

The salesman might be painfully ill-equipped to deal with French speaking customers, one of the reasons why they weren't in Louisiana, but he was still a man trying to sell a rental car for a company. He grinned like a shark, probably thinking of conning them into renting something highly expensive and not suited for long travel plans.

However, he was dealing with a professional thief. She knew cheating, dishonesty, and lies just as much as the next thief.

Sonya got a Cadillac Eldorado convertible instead of the compact Buick Skylark he tried to foist off on them, mainly on the tiny detail of luggage space. Which honestly wasn't much due to the fact they both were convertibles, but at least the Cadillac had more.

She also had to pay a lot more than she had planned on for their security deposit, but it was entirely worth it to see Cherep light up when she pointed out their red and white car for the month.

"You're driving."

"Damn right I am… wait, why?" He paused in the middle of loading the trunk to suspiciously look at her. "You don't want to drive?"

"We used your driver's license to rent the damn thing, and I don't have one nor do I know how to drive." She informed him flatly, sliding into the passenger seat. "But please remember they drive on the other side of the road here."

Sonya did know how to drive… just not with a stick. She couldn't work a clutch and had yet to get Dmitriy to teach her either.

There were automatic transmissions in some of the rental cars, but not the one they got. She supposed that was something her mechanically inclined foster brother could teach her too, though she didn't know when he went in to get a license himself.

Probably at the same time the Rain had gotten his done, actually.

XCIII (Wednesday the 15th of November, 1965. World's Fair, Corona Park, Queens, New York, United States of America.)

"That's what you're here for?" Cherep asked lightly, eating a rather quick lunch as they watched the reveal of the Programma 101. "That's pretty cool, actually."

"Mmm." Sonya wasn't listening to him very hard, she was eyeing the pavilion the Olivetti Company was using as their stage speculatively.

He wasn't surprised, or really bothered by that.

Making his peace with what she did for a living and how she went around about it had been somewhat difficult for him at first, but Lisa had put a lot of effort into trying to get him to understand their culture as criminals and how his foster family had been brought up. He might try to change it now and again, but it was her life and although he was her best friend he couldn't decide how to live that life for her.

A tabletop computer, though.

What he thought of when someone said 'computer' was a large room sized machine, crunching away at some vastly complicated and difficult equation. That was sort of the thing a university or a government used for things like the space programs, or maybe a large company that dealt with sciences.

Having that associated with that little typewriter sized computer?

Well, he could see why Adrik wanted one. Enough so to ask the blonde teenager to steal him one.

The price tag attached explained why they hadn't bothered considering a legal way to get one, other than what the slim youth had tried to gather on his own before Tatiana suggested their little sister. Three thousand and five hundred dollars was a grand and a half more than the new Ford Mustang would cost.

No, he didn't specifically look at the ones available at the dealership near their hotel… it just happened to look that way. Salesmen were pushy, pushy people even if you didn't understand one word they spoke out of twenty.

Cherep figured this was probably the end of their little vacation/road trip. That was Sonya's target, which she had to chase around for half a year and halfway around the world to find. She'd probably greatly appreciate finally getting this whole job over with.

"Right… well, now that I know it's here and ready to go, what else did you want to see?"

He started slightly, more than enough for her to catch him doing it and give him a strange look.

"Charles?"

"Uh… ha, Sarah… I thought you're here for… just that?"

The thief sitting next to him gave him a flat stare that questioned his sanity. "We're also here to sightsee and wander around like tourists. Which, may I point out, we are."

The secret Cloud Flame user of the family coughed sheepishly, quirking a wry smirk for her. "I thought you'd go and… um. Yeah."

Rolling her eyes at him, his blonde little sister got to her feet and pulled him up by his arm. "No, absolutely not. Not the very day they reveal it, I'm not stupid. End of the week at earliest, when news has a chance to circle around and there would be more suspects than just who is in this crowd."

…so, he had the rest of the week?

He could deal with that.

"I swear to high hell though, you make us go through 'It's a Small World' one more time…"

"It's cool." Cherep protested, grinning at the very disgruntled image Sonya always presented when he managed to badger her into going around again. "I still haven't spotted the Russians in that yet."

"They're not there, the US is at war with the Soviet Union… however 'cold' it's all been." She sounded disgusted, probably at the false advertising.

She had no room to complain, given they were 'falsely advertising' the fact they were a couple.

Which he thought was kind of weird since they were foster siblings, but she had put some effort in explaining that siblings that didn't look alike would be more memorable than just a couple out to see the attractions.

The disbelieving glance she shot his hair was entirely uncalled for, they'd seen all sorts of different colors in the first week of being in America. Including the rarer blues and greens, which he thought deserved her scorn more than his purple coloring. Pinks, purples, and reds were not exactly rare hair and eye colors to have in the Soviet Union.

They were sharing a hotel bed, as part of that 'cover' as a couple, but his standoffish baby sister was more likely to whack him with a pillow if he stole all the covers off her than cuddle. She at least ensured she wouldn't give him a bloody nose when she did, but it still surprised him now and again to get a semi-hard lump of fabric forcefully introduced to his face in the middle of the night.

"Well, if we have the rest of the week… how about the General Motors display?"

"That one is supposed to be rather brilliant." Allowed the professional thief, glancing around to see what landmarks there were near and comparing them to her little copy of the park map. "It's back a way, you can rubberneck at the Ford display again when we go past it."

"That is a fantastic car, Sarah. I don't care what ribbing you do, I like looking at it."

"You and your damn toys. I thought it would get harder to distract you as we got older, but no… all I have to do is ensure you have something mechanical at hand and you're as happy as a clam, aren't you?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Cherep didn't care about the mickey she could take out of him for it, he was a kid at heart and that was still an awesome car after everything was said and done.

XCIV (Sunday the 3rd of October, 1965. Mafia Land.)

One Programma 101 safely shipped via underworld routes and Cherep on his way home to Moscow later, and Sonya managed to finally finish the favor for Adrik and Tatiana.

Stealing even an armful of technology proved to be almost stupidly easy, compared to the mafia jobs she was currently getting into. Her next two jobs for Mafia Land proved harder, though those targets didn't have a few million people wandering in and out of them daily.

The Russian thief didn't rightly care much either, getting the storage unit assigned to her and taking possession of the key alone finally ticked off the last of her boxes that needed to be dealt with before leaving Moscow finally.

There were a couple of other things still pending, but those weren't majorly important in any way.

Just… a little more than personal. She'd have to go see what time Arseniy had free to help her deal with her biological father.

She finished up her Mafia Land business the second week of December, so instead of immediately going and arranging passage on a ship heading to the mainland of Eurasia and possibly catching the start of her older sister's visit home she staked out a good café and cracked open yet another book.

She had scouted around the bookstores nearby the in city of Queens for a much more modern history book for Europe than she had back in Moscow. The euro question was still bothering her, and she had intended to look harder for any more differences popping up.

It was questionable if she would catch any. Fifteen years since Rachel breathed her last in a grimy and dark alleyway and Sonya's memory of that life was an iffy thing. Especially if she went four years with using a currency that shouldn't have existed for another two decades at the very least.

Additionally, she was pretty sure there was no such thing as a mafia history book. Any changes influenced by the underworld residents of the world would probably be untraceable by her, unless she knew of the people involved personally.

Like that Programma 101. Had she stolen it out of the Olivetti Company manufactory, it was entirely possible it wouldn't have been marketed this year… or even more worrying, at all. Not if there had already been dire questions on if it was something they could sell.

Which… would mean some probably bad things would be delaying the computer market.

Therefore, Sonya was never doing another 'cutting edge technology' job. Way too much stress over if she should steal or not for her.

She ignored it when someone took the chair opposite of her at the café table she was sitting at. If it was Renato, he knew how to get her attention. If it wasn't, she didn't care.

There was no one else on Mafia Land that she could count as more than just a casual acquaintance. Pitiful, but true.

"A history book? That's a new one."

Then again, Renato was a little older than her and probably did know something about it. The Russian girl glanced up at him, just to check he was in a good mood and likely to answer one of her random questions.

Then promptly wished she kept her eyes down, because he was flirting with the now blushing waitress again as he placed his order.

…so, probably in a good mood.

"Renato? What do you know of the 'euro'?" Asked the Storm-Cloud as he sat back to watch the progress of his espresso through the windows of the café. "How it came to be, that is. I cannot find it in my book."

She would admit it was a very odd question, but they did get paid in that unit of currency. Euro was also the major denomination Mafia Land used, alongside the dollar, yen, renminbi, pound, and ruble. One was sometimes favored more in certain sections than others, but all of them could be used with minimal griping.

"It's called the European Unit of Account, euro is just the shorthand nickname it acquired since it was implemented." At first that looked to be as much as he wanted to speak on the subject, but something occurred to him and he shot her a sly smirk. "It was suggested back in the nineteen-twenties, didn't get traction as an idea until after World War Two when the Treaty of Sicily was signed off on nearly three decades and a half later."

Sonya took a hard look at her book. No wonder she couldn't find the Treaty of Rome, it hadn't been held in Rome.

"Okay… so what am I missing?"

"That Italian Mafia Famiglia you wish to avoid were key supporters of it. They got the meeting of the first European Economic Union to use the Island of Sicily as their meeting place."

Vongola had something to do with the euro?

The Russian thief figured that explained why she was having such difficulties trying to dig something up on the subject. "I am just trying to avoid irritating them, not avoid them entirely. Freelancers do not tend to do well when against a structured group like that."

Renato only huffed at her and her reasoning, giving the waitress a charming smile when she arrived with his drink. "You know, this thing you have against Italia. I'm going to feel hurt if you keep it up."

"Ivrea is a beautiful city, and the Turin region was very pretty as I passed through it."

He shot her a flat look. "That's it? Not trying very hard, are we?"

"Mmm… no, not really. Only been once, you see." The teenager shut her book. She still had questions, but it wasn't very likely she'd get answers now.

"Maybe I should show you around myself? You really can't see much of the country without a decent guide." Suggested the hitman slowly, looking a bit more devious than such a suggestion should warrant.

She wrinkled her nose as she thought of what that would likely result in. She might be able to travel with Cherep halfway across the world, but she could also hit him when he was being annoying.

"I think… I'll pass. Thank you."

XCV (Monday the 27th of December, 1965. Moscow, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic.)

Tatiana's visit home happened the very last week of December, she blew in and practically abducted Sonya to go and get their tattoos touched up.

Which, looking at her arm before she pulled on a coat, the younger thief figured she really should've done a year or two ago.

"So… question." The slightly taller and much more settled seeming redhead spoke up, seeming both happy and sad to be wandering around Moscow again. "Clouds, huh?"

She sighed slightly, long since resigned to the topic of this conversation and how best to defend her choices. "I am… more of what one thinks of when someone says 'Cloud Flame user', he isn't. Therefore, if the clan would need one of us, it would be best to be me."

Her older sister slid her a sideways look in response, humming noncommittally.

That was a horrible, horrible tactic Lisa had them trained up to spill everything when she pulled. "How's Galina?"

"Oh no, we're not going to talk about my Lightning. We're talking about your fellow Cloud." Tatiana made a face, probably thinking of said Lightning. "We're going to borrow the green gems though, just so you know."

"You can deal with Arseniy about that." Sonya patted her foster sister on the shoulder when she pouted. "Whole reason I left them with him, you know."

The Sun user shot her a sour look, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging them both into a side door the Storm-Cloud had probably passed hundreds of times before without giving it a second thought.

The man who greeted them from another room before joining them was likely Tatiana's tattooist, like how Valya back in Saratov was the blonde thief's. His kitchen was set up for tattooing, from what the sisters could see from the doorway.

Pushing her little sister forward, the redhead shot the man a brilliant smile. "She's been neglecting her artwork, Boris. No longer a little kitty, she needs a bigger cat."

"Well then… let's see the damage." Boris gave her a bland smile and gestured to the kitchen chair apparently waiting for their type of customers.

The former pickpocket sighed, stripping off her coat and thin sweater so they could see her faded cat and moon tattoo.

Her kitten had greyed out, after nearly five years it was no longer a black cat but an almost greenish grey. The crystal moon that had cradled it was now less crystal and more 'rock' in looks.

The tattooist clucked disapprovingly, fetching one of his many binders of designs and flipping through it. Tatiana reached over and stroked the faded kitten on her little sister's bicep. "Poor kitty, we'll make you a big cat soon."

"Please tell me you are not talking to and petting my tattoo."

Their host interrupted whatever would have been her reply, showing the girls his art collection for 'cats, jewels, and nighttime' themes. Thieves, jewel heists, and overnight work, in other terms.

Sonya admitted, privately, he might just be better than her old tattooist.

"What else are you good for?" Her older sister asked as she paged through the designs, settling herself in a kitchen chair and cradling her chin in one hand. "I'm sure you can get a rose like me too by now."

"Paw prints." She was a traveling thief, after all. "Do you want to put our Dying Will Flame types on it too? I'm pretty sure we could work it in here."

"I already have it." The redhead gave her a smug smile, stripping out of her outerwear to show it off.

The Sun was an image given to those that brazenly worked in the daylight, which Tatiana certainly qualified for and Sonya could probably get. The only times she had ever worked overnight was when she was working with her foster sister on one of her heists.

The younger thief eventually selected a much larger tattoo design that what she had already, mostly to cover up the bare beginnings of her tattoo work.