Conversation for a Lifetime

“Las Vegas… just kill me already…” Alexei Ruslan complained in Russian as he trudged through the PRIME business offices alongside Ivan Stanislav.

Ruslan and Stanislav walked side by side, with Ruslan wearing his typical brown attire, while Ivan wore a dazzling display of military regalia. His gleaming white jacket featured red accents on the shoulders and cuffs, with two rows of golden buttons adorning the chest. As they walked down the hallway, Ivan’s heavy military boots thudded, but there was a slight hitch in his gait that hinted towards his injuries at Colossus. Despite this, he held himself with the pride and authority befitting his station in The Motherland.

Barely visible behind the two stood Arina Timofeyevna, her figure swathed in a similar red uniform as was required of her. Her sharp eyes darted between the two men as they whispered to each other in their native Russian tongue. In her right hand, she held a sturdy brown briefcase, its weight evident in the slight strain on her arm. She remained a silent, nervous figure in contrast to the grumping countrymen in front of her.

The trio finally stopped at a door. Stanislav produced a watch from his pocket and stared down at it. “Two minutes early.”

“Just go in, Starshy Praporshchik…” Alexei said with an eyeroll.

“No. I am not going to be early, nor am I going to be late.” Stanislav replied.

Ruslan shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ivan interrupted him.

“And you two are staying outside. I will talk to her myself.”

“Ivan…” Alexei began, but again, Stanislav refused to allow him to speak.

Ivan’s voice was firm as he addressed Alexei. His jaw was set, his posture straight. Arina, with delicate precision, adjusted the numerous medals adorning Ivan’s breast, a symbol of his bravery and achievements. Ruslan acquiesced with a nod of understanding. The tension in the air was palpable as the trio knew the impending meeting was not going to be an easy one.

“Fine, Ivan, but if you need me to go in there to give her what for, you let me know.”

Ivan shifted his jaw in and lifted a brow in a sign of slight nervousness. “Let us just hope when I return I have a job, Alexei. Then we deal with doling out ‘what for’s’.”

As Stanislav gripped the hilariously small door handle in his hand, he stared at the name in script on the shiny gold nameplate.

LINDSAY TROY PRESIDENT & CEO

“She’s waiting for youuuuu!” a bubbly voice sang out behind the Russian trio. They turned around as Ami Troy, laptop under her arm, skipped over and plunked herself behind the empty desk outside her mother’s office. She smiled and waved at Arina, then looked at Alexei with a widening grin. “Gonna keep my eye on you, best buddy!”

Ruslan gripped Stanislav’s other arm and spoke to him in Russian. “Do not abandon us to her, Ivan.”

Ivan looked back at Ami Troy and then at Alexei and replied in their native tongue. “Sacrifices have to be made.”

He seemed all too eager to leave the two of them alone with Ami.

—

The door to Lindsay Troy’s office, the belly of the beast itself, opened as Ivan Stanislav not only filled the doorway, but exceeded it like a white snowdrift squeezing through the frame and emerging from the other side. Ruslan stood like an abandoned puppy beyond the doorway as Stanislav shut the door in his face.

“There you are,” the Queen said, briefly looking away from one of her computer monitors to acknowledge the Russian Bear. “I’m finishing one thing up. You get in OK?”

Stanislav cast a long shadow wherever he stood, and as he shifted his gaze around the office at the walls, and the large windows as he mentally compared said office to his own in Moscow. His eyes finally moved to an appropriately sized chair for his body, which sat across from The Queen’s desk. He grunted. “I am on time.” He said with no shortage of gravel in his voice. “And yes, we arrived without issue, though no one in their right mind would live in a desert.”

He lowered himself into the wooden chair, wincing as it creaked under his weight. “I did not expect Ami to be waiting outside,” he grumbled, devoid of his normal attempted Russian charm. He carried no gift, there was no wide, jocular laugh.

“Well, if you remember the last time you were here, Alexei had half a mind to tamper with the computer out there,” Lindsay replied with a smirk. She finished typing, then saved a document and closed it. After repositioning herself in her chair, she turned and looked at Ivan straight-on. “Besides, did you think she wouldn’t have popped up at some point?”

He thumbed over his shoulder at the door behind him. “She should be working.” He said with a cocked eyebrow and cleared his throat. “But that is not the point, Lindsay Troy.” His expression began to darken further, staring at her smirking face. “I am sure you are so proud of yourself, hm? Orchestrating this entire farce that resulted in me not losing Universal Title, but having it stripped from me. Huh?”

It was Lindsay’s turn to cock an eyebrow. “If by ‘orchestrating a farce’ you mean ‘booking one of the biggest title matches in Colossus history’ then, yes, I am pretty proud of myself. I’m pretty proud of more than just myself, truth be told; there hasn’t been a Uni Title Match at Colossus with stakes that high since Sonny and I fought for the belt.”

One could almost hear Stanislav grind his teeth in his massive head. He waved a hand dismissively. “Bah. You could have told me you had that little shit booked weeks before you did. Do not think I haven’t reviewed that smirking face of yours when you announced him! And then you make a match stipulation a week before? Furthermore, I did not submit. I did not get pinned. That crooked referee instead ended match and gave the boy the belt?!” He growled deeper in his chest and flared his nostrils. “And then кусок дерьма retired a few days later?!”

Stanislav turned his head to the side and winced, as if dealing with a sudden internal struggle not to erupt, before huffing loudly and lowering his own temperature. He snapped his eyes open once more and stared at Lindsay with a huff. “It is neither here nor there. You will compensate me appropriately, I am sure… and that… is not why we are here anyway.” Still, it was obvious how much he was stewing, judging by how he squeezed his jaw and his temples flared.

“No, it’s not why we’re here, but you seem to want to have this discussion anyway, otherwise you wouldn’t have brought it up and then dismissed it.” Lindsay leaned forward a bit in her chair. “You want to have it now or do you want to have it in front of millions of people on ReVival 41. Me, I’d rather put it all on the table now and then move on to more important business.”

The former Universal Champion rested his broad back in the specialized chair and crossed his arms over his barrel chest. His medals clinked slightly against the cufflinks of his uniform as he nodded. “Very well then. The floor is yours.” He motioned with his hand and set his jaw once more.

“First, as owner of this company, I provide you all with your bookings, and this notice can come at various points in time and can be for a variety of reasons,” Lindsay started, settling back in her seat again. “I don’t owe you or anyone a heads-up of who you’re fighting and when, and I definitely don’t owe anyone an explanation of why I do things the way I do them. That doesn’t change just because you’re a titleholder. And before you get yourself all riled up again, let me remind you that you were told you’d be facing Hayes Hanlon at UltraViolence 2022 before he found out he was facing you. In that case, you needed to be told who your opponent would be so we could come to an agreement on your appearance, and I wanted there to be an element of surprise when your return was announced on ReVival.”

Stanislav’s dark brown eyes were half closed while he listened intently to every word spoke by Lindsay Troy. He shifted his jaw from one side to the other, grinding his teeth in frustration at her logic. The muscles in his face tensed and he flared his nostrils, taking deep breaths to calm himself. “You are insufferable when you make sense,” he growled in a low voice, but then paused, allowing her to continue speaking without interruption.

“Contrary to what you and your camp believe, Ivan, I’m not out to get you, just like I’m not out to get Rose, or the Halls, or Daytona Diamonds. They can believe whatever they want; it’s the truth. As owner, I put my personal feelings aside and treat everyone as fairly as possible, and that’s more than what most owners out there do. That doesn’t mean I won’t expect more from certain members of the roster just by virtue of them being veterans, or that I don’t actually wish I could make Cancer Jiles’ life a living hell because he’s an insufferable, awful piece of shit. But like you, I have my values and I’m not willing to compromise them.”

The Russian Bear watched her eyes while she spoke, and upon finishing he looked down at the oversized chair that he was sitting in. He dragged his left thumb along the arm thoughtfully and considered how yes, despite it all even Lindsay Troy had placed a special chair in her office to allow a certain degree of comfort for the old veteran.

He didn’t look her in the eyes, but rather at his thumb as it dragged along the wood. “I will not deny that insofar as promotion owners go you are better than most, Lindsay.” He shook his head, “The nature of Colossus will not dissipate anytime soon. I would have rather died in that ring than have what happened… happen.” He finally turned his gaze up to face her again, but most of the anger had faded over time. “I am sure that will be properly rectified in time. So let us move to the matter at hand, hm?”

He tilted his head to the side. “I truly want to believe, Lindsay, that everything leading up to now was not some clandestine attempt on your part to remove me from PRIME. That despite our ideological and professional differences, that you recognize what can only be considered one-in-lifetime value of my mere presence in federation.”

A smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned back in his chair. "And personally, I have great interest in continuing my career here in PRIME. So my question is, was losing my Universal Title just a prelude to being pushed out completely?"

“It’s not,” the Queen replied. “For as much as you and Alexei are thorns in my side, I have every intention of renewing your contracts. And since you just said you’d like to continue working here, I don’t have to wonder whether or not you’ll be signing.”

There was a slight clearing of The Bear’s throat and he uncharacteristically rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, well of course.” Another gurgling grumble emanated from his chest and he tilted his head to the side. “With this in mind then, I wanted to ask you for a small…” He coughed into his hand as he spoke, but it sounded something like, “...favor…”

Lindsay frowned, confusion etched across her face. “Say again? I didn’t quite catch that.”

He growled and shifted uncomfortably in the chair and barked with a hint of annoyance. “I said I need a favor!” He crossed his arms over his chest and sulked in almost comedic fashion. “I need to trust, Lindsay, that this conversation between you and I remains strictly between both of us. I do not want anyone else to know of it.” He paused for one more moment, “Not even Alexei.”

“Really,” she said. “This must be pretty important if you don’t want Alexei to know.”

His beard shuffled with annoyance as he dragged his massive fingers through the haphazard strands. “Yes, it is.”

“Alright then,” Lindsay nodded. “This will stay between us. You have my word.”

He heaved himself up out of the chair, which groaned happily as his massive bulk lifted from the seat. Ivan brought his hands behind his back, strode over to one of the windows along the wall, and gazed down upon sprawling Las Vegas and the desert beyond. “I would like a contract that is divorced from Russia,” he spoke in a low voice, his eyes cold and distant as he avoided looking at her directly and instead gazed outside.

It’s not often that the Lady of the Hour was surprised, but somehow the Russian Bear managed to do it not once, but twice in the span of two minutes. Lindsay watched him silently observing the city beyond the window as thought after thought raced through her mind. When she finally spoke, though, all she blurted out was, “Why?”

Ivan looked over his shoulder at her, ready to respond, but she waved him off.

“What I mean is…” she continued as she stood up and walked over to the window, “…we can do that, sure, but I’ve got a feeling people back in the Motherland aren’t going to be very happy about it. Which, personally, I don’t give a shit about, that’s nothing new for me…but that’s going to mean trouble for you.”

He tightened his jaw and glanced down at Lindsay for a moment and even he couldn’t stop a sardonic chuckle from rumbling beneath the white, double breasted uniform he wore. However, it was short lived as his expression grew more serious. “That is why I would need you to deny renewing current contract and instead… insist that I sign new contract between just myself and PRIME. To which I would, of course, publicly complain.” He cleared his throat again. “But if left with no other option, what choice would there be?”

He frowned deep enough that it showed easily beneath his beard. “I take no pleasure in asking you to do something that would open yourself up to unwarranted criticism, Lindsay, even if it would be a charade on my end.”

He allowed the air to settle between them for a moment, “And if you were willing to do such a thing for me…” he then added with a grumble, but trailed off. She could see how uncomfortable he was. The Russian Bear, normally so stoic and resolute was clearly off balance. Requests like this, especially made to a Westerner, were particularly uncomfortable and awkward. “Ahem, what I mean to say is that, since I am such a fine member of roster, a top talent, a great draw,” he cleared his throat again, “then is there a possibility that it could be for a lifetime?”

No force on Earth could force him to look at her with the number of requests he had made in such a small time, and so he looked back out through the glass. He tried to make it look as if he was looking at the buildings, or the people, or the desert itself, but his eyes were trained on her transparent reflection.

Lindsay’s eyebrows shot skyward and she had to forcefully hold back an incredulous laugh. “You want a lifetime contract.”

Stanislav finally shifted his gaze over and back down at Lindsay Troy. “Yes…”

“Do you know the definition of the word ‘lifetime’?”

“I do not deny that matters of contracts are foreign to me. I tend to leave it to Alexei or others. Communists are not very fond of such things. Anyway, yes, I believe so. Are you?” He turned his body to face her slightly. “I would define it as opportunity to ensure PRIME would never falter so long as I am alive.”

“I define it as you and Alexei having the opportunity to work in your current roles so long as you’re able to do so… and that also means having to answer to me. You sure that’s what you want?” Lindsay looked toward the door. “You sure that’s what Alexei wants? Because I already know you’re not going anywhere without him.”

“A Russian veteran’s pension is not very grand. It frustrates me to think about such things: money, living, and financial security. Inside it makes me feel as if I am somehow betraying myself, Lindsay.” He let out a long sigh. “My mother, Fanya Dimitrovich Stanislav, was great dance ballet dancer in Bolshoi. Yet for all that beauty and athleticism her hips are going and she is in great pain. Yet, I cannot afford a new hip for her. My requests for such things to State are labeled as ‘superfluous.’” He swallowed a sudden bolt of rage. “I can only imagine what will happen to me when my time comes.”

He shook his head, “At current juncture, when I am done, I will return to apartment not much larger than this and the adjoining office and I will wait to die. I do not begrudge that fate. I made this sacrifice to channel my love for my country and I do not wish to have done any of it differently.” A pause. “But there are men and women in Russia who do not share the same zeal as I do, nor will they have the same care for me when such a time comes. If PRIME afforded me more freedom to care for myself and my mother? Maybe I could even, who knows, have a place of my own?” Somehow, between the beginning and the end of his statement, he had begun talking to himself.

He huffed. These admissions were more painful than anything at Colossus, and as he mirrored her gaze toward the door he nodded. “I am responsible for Alexei. He gave up his life to help me. He cannot properly return to his work. He cannot do what he was so passionate about because of my spotlight. When my time runs out, so will his. Our fates and futures will always be intertwined. Whether he knows it or not.”

“Oh, I don’t know about all that. Seems to me that Alexei’s found a new passion in his managerial role and still finds time to be the electrician he once was.”

She punctuated the sentence with a smirk before looking back at Ivan. “So, you’d like a lifetime contract where you’d be a free man and you want me to go along with the charade of you duping the Russian Army. Do I get anything out of this deal besides the pleasure of your company for an untold number of years?”

It was Stanislav’s time to turn an incredulous laugh. “You make it sound as if that is not payment enough, Lindsay Troy.” In typical Russian fashion, the towering Russian dispelled the slight levity and grew serious once more. “Even you cannot deny the value I bring to an organization. Come, I am not that difficult to deal with, am I?”

It was painfully difficult to see if Ivan Sergeiovich Stanislav was joking. If he was, he certainly didn’t give any hint of such a thing.

“Difficult? Noooooo,” the Queen sarcastically replied with arms folded across her chest. “I never want to wring your neck or punt Alexei into a neighboring zip code for some bullshit you all said or did.”

A mirthful chuckle reverberated in The Bear’s chest and he covered his mouth to hide the smile. He swallowed it down and as he drew his hand away from his mouth, the smile was torn from his mouth. “No more difficult than you.”

He risked a quick wink. “Since I am being candid with you, and you have agreed to keep this between us, I will risk a little more honesty, Lady Troy. You are not nearly the monster I thought you might be. You are honest, even if it is insufferable, and you are logical. And despite still chaining yourself to capitalist enterprise, you do not take advantage of the less fortunate. You give health insurance to those in your care, you hold others accountable for their actions, and you seem to genuinely care for those who are your responsibility. I could not ask for better working conditions.” He added, “Perhaps this might… thaw… things between us as well, hm?”

“It might,” Lindsay said. A small smile softly brightened her face. “If you stop fighting me at every turn.”

His eyebrow raised gently and he failed to hide a slight grin. “I will see what I can do. I cannot speak for Alexei. While I am more diplomatic, he can be more combative.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “If you need time to think on it, and if you wish to deny lifetime request, I understand. I know Westerners have difficult time dealing with Russians and vice versa. I come here asking a great deal of you which you may think is unwarranted or unearned.”

“I will be honest with you, Ivan: I can have David work on the new contract between yourself and PRIME right now; that’s not a problem.” Lindsay walked back toward her desk and motioned for Ivan to follow. “The lifetime clause will need a majority of Board approval. That’s how it was done for Brandon, and that’s how I intend to do those special considerations going forward.”

As he walked toward the oversized chair he waved his hand. “This Board of yours, you cannot simply tell them what to do? You know, when Stalin was in power, the Politburo knew when to speak up and when to fall in line.” He gripped the arms of the chair and slowly settled back down. The chair let out a pathetic moan beneath his bulk.

“I’m the President and Owner, not a dictator,” the Queen replied, smirking as she took her seat once more. She unlocked her computer and navigated to her calendar. “The Board is made up of long-time PRIME people like myself, who want what’s best for the company. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I can be pretty persuasive.”

He watched her carefully and listened intently, a relative rarity for The Russian Bear. “Lindsay,” he said while he watched her quickly navigate on the other side of her laptop. Far faster than anything he could imagine. “I do have to ask you, then, why would you do this for me?” He sat straight, not using the back of the chair for any support.

“Well…” she replied as she finished setting up the necessary meetings related to Ivan’s contract, “…if we’re speaking candidly and keeping things between ourselves…”

Lindsay turned to face him again. “First, you’ve already intimated that you want to stay here, which means I don’t have to worry about you shopping around for a better deal elsewhere. And, to be honest, you’re not going to get the kind of deal you have with PRIME anywhere else except maybe in SHOOT Project. But you’ll be starting over there whereas here, you’ve already proven yourself to be a main event player. The loss to FLAMBERGE at Colossus doesn’t change that.”

Stanislav crossed his arms over his barrel chest and frowned slightly, but he nodded in agreement.

“Second,” she continued, “you’re still in great shape, which means there’s an upside to you signing long-term. Yes, there have been arguments against your health from reporters and other people who aren’t doctors. They say your knees and your back aren’t what they used to be, but they say that about most of us who have been doing this for 10, 20 years or longer. I still think you have more than a few good years left.”

He stubbornly interjected, “I will add, for record, that every doctor in Russia has given me glowing bill of health. And those who have not were found to be incompetent.” There was a slightly curl to his lip as he said that, but he nodded all the same. Somehow, Lindsay didn’t bother to discuss his Russian assessments.

“Lastly, and most importantly,” Lindsay said, “I don’t want people on my roster who don’t love PRIME. You don’t have to necessarily like me or like everyone - or anyone - in the locker room, but if you don’t love this place? Ultimately, I don’t want you here. There are a million wrestling companies out there for people to go work for. But you asking for a lifetime contract, Ivan, I get the feeling you love PRIME in your own way. Otherwise, why would you even bring it up? And why would I try to deny it to you when you’re being honest and forthright with me? And giving me compliments which, by the way, were completely unexpected and I’m sad I didn’t get them recorded.”

Stanislaiv leaned forward, his arms still crossed over his chest. “You know, if you allowed Alexei to bug this place then you would have had those compliments on record. That is on you, Lindsay, not me.”

“And give him the satisfaction of getting one over on me?” Lindsay smiled. “I don’t think so.”

“Joking aside, I cannot properly put into words what this means to me, Lindsay. Do I think I could do better job than you? Of course I do. Do I believe some practices are wrong? Yes, I do. But as I said before you are fair owner and employer. Despite my best efforts, Lindsay Troy, I cannot bring myself to disdain you as much as I feel I should. Why, you have said more complimentary things to me in this meeting than most of my superiors have said in the last year.”

He paused for a moment as his words registered to himself and he snorted.

“You show many qualities that are worthy, in my mind, of respect and because of that, I cannot help but grant said respect. Yes, I do love PRIME. I would not have defended her name immediately if that were not case. I am… happy here.” He blinked to himself, his words once more surprising him.

“However, I do believe it is borderline criminal to leave Alexei and Arina outside with your daughter any longer than this, please allow me to once more thank you, Lindsay..” He rose slowly, “For everything. I will not let PRIME down.” He cleared his throat once as he looked down at her. “I will not announce the outcome of this meeting unless you tell me to. I do not know how all of that works, and I know you must wait for the Board to make their decision, still.”

“I scheduled a meeting for first thing tomorrow morning. I’d recommend staying in town an extra day, if you can.”

He nodded and offered his huge hand. “I can stomach a few more days of this heat. Do not take what I say in a moment as truth, Lindsay Troy. And again, you have my appreciation.”

She clasped his hand. “I’ll be in touch.”

Stanislav released her hand and then took two steps backwards towards the door. What slight grin he had on his face melted away and quickly turned to a scowl as he boomed and jabbed his finger in her direction. “This is an outrage, Lindsay Troy! Do not think for a moment that I, or anyone from Russia, shall stand for this!”

Behind The Russian Bear the door flew open and Ruslan immediately burst into the room. What is it, Ivan?!” He barked as he stood next to his much taller comrade.

Stanislav looked down at Ruslan, his expression a growing storm as he pointed at Troy. “She will not renew my contract!”

His brown-clad comrade exploded. “What?!?!” He moved to advance on her, but Ivan’s huge paw horse collared his jacket.

“She insists on individual contract between us and her!” He boomed. “On top of that, she wants it to be for life!” Ivan let out a customary growl. “Do you know what that means, Alexei Gregorovich?”

Alexei’s face turned as red as the crimson flag he loved so dearly and he wheeled around to look up at Ivan. “Of course I do!” He said before looking at Troy and then back at Ivan. He blinked and spoke in Russian, forgetting that Troy understood their tongue. “На самом деле нет, я не.” (“Actually, I don’t.”)

“It means no more having to simply live on our pensions, Alexei.” Stanislav boomed and waved his hand wide. “It means no more money being funneled to those bureaucrats in Moscow!”

Ruslan blinked.

“It would mean we would have rest of our lives to continue our great patriotic war, Alexei! A lifetime to crush the Sykes and the Colton's and the Youngblood's and the Luchadores of PRIME!” He continued. “It would mean all the time in the world to get my revenge on each and every one of those bastards who have dared to wrong us!”

Confusion fell along Ruslan’s features. “Oh?”

“Yes, indeed Alexei. THAT is what it would mean!” Ivan continued, while Ruslan’s entire aggressive stance melted away. Ivan continued. “You have not heard the last of THIS, Lindsay Troy! Let us go, Alexei!”

Lost in thought for a moment, Alexei snapped out of his daze and exhaled loudly. “Uh… yes… you have not heard the last of this!” He said as he left.

The Russian Bear, his face a mask of frustration, spared a single quick wink of his left eye for Lindsay Troy, and he too turned and exited the office. Stanislav spared just one moment to take in the sight of Arina talking, albeit slowly and in broken English, to Ami at her desk. When she caught gaze of Stanislav, Arina stood up awkwardly and plucked up her briefcase. “Let us go, Arina!” Ivan grumbled, “I have had enough of this building!”

Ami watched them go. Right before the doors closed, she waved and shouted, “Bye Ivan and Arina and Alexei my bestest friendddddddd!!!!” Her farewell was met with a scowl by Ruslan as the doors abruptly shut.

“Did you behave yourself?” Lindsay asked and leaned against her open office door.

“I sat there and worked and watched Alexei pace and sweat,” Ami grinned. “It was great.”

“I bet,” Lindsay nodded. “There’ll be plenty more opportunities for you to bug your buddy in the future. I don’t think they’ll be going anywhere for a good, long while…”