Page 40 of Ascendent
Sergey watched Sasha’s chest rise and fall until he couldn’t take it anymore. He paced the hallways, dug out his phone, checked email. Read the daily financial report from his Cabinet and cursed.
He called the five richest oligarchs in Russia.
Only one returned his call.
Oleg Ostrovsky, the diamond miner from the movie premiere and the owner of the largest metals mines and refineries in Siberia and the Far East, called back. “How can I help you, Mr. President?”
“Oleg, how are you doing? Where are you? Enjoying the Tuscan sunshine? Or strolling down Bond and Mayfair street in London?”
“Neither. I’m in Irkutsk, monitoring our exports to China. There’s been some trouble during shipment. I need to hire armed escorts for my trucks to the border.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I can recommend some local muscle, if you’re in the need. And I’ll have Ilya investigate these troubles. Rogue elements cannot interfere with the Russian economy.”
“I’m delighted to hear you say so, Mr. President.”
He stared at the floor and scuffed his heel. Dammit, he didn’t want to go down this road. Not again.But we learn from the past, isn’t that right, Sasha? “Did you and Ms. Svetlana Schevchenko hit it off, Oleg?”
A rich, throaty laugh echoed over the line. “Ms. Svetlana is a delight. A true national treasure. You have my thanks for making the introduction, Mr. President. She seemed quite happy on your arm, but I am very pleased to have made her acquaintance.” A pause. “She might be coming to Irkutsk. A visit from such a star here would surely make my people happy.”
Oleg had political ambitions, he could tell. Hopes and dreams for his future, and those hopes and dreams included his people. Sergey needed men like that on his side. “I hope she enjoys herself when she travels to you.”
“I’ll let her pick her own diamond from the mine’s warehouse. Anything she wants.”
Sergey chuckled. Silence fell over the line.
“Mr. President?”
“Oleg… I’m calling to ask for a favor. Our economy is fitful. Restless. We need your exports, everyone’s exports, to pick up. We need oil and gas to flow again, and for the pipelines to be rebuilt and repaired. We need imports to flow, to feed our people and take care of them. We need to honor our commitments to our citizens. Pay wages and pensions. But for all of that… Russia needs cash.”
“I’m listening.”
“Decades ago, patriotic oligarchs, such as yourself, loaned the new Russian government billions in exchange for controlling shares of state-owned enterprises.”
“And many of those patriotic oligarchs turned into thieving madman. Most are locked up now. Or dead.”
“Which is why I am speaking to you. You’re a man of the future. A visionary. You care about our nation, and her people. Russia needs hope for tomorrow. She needs to look to what lies ahead.”
“You have a movie in the theaters about you, Mr. President. I think the people are enamored with you.”
“It will all collapse overnight if we do not keep the country running. You are young. You weren’t alive for the protests in the 90s. Starving workers blocked the rail lines, stopped all commerce. Riots broke out across the country. I do not want to see this happen again.”
“What are you offering?”
“Controlling shares in RusCom. The national television and media network.” He held his breath. The state had maintained a stranglehold on the national media for decades. It was the only way to ensure loyalty, as Putin once said. Control. Loyalty.
In Russian, the root word for change and betrayal were the same. Constancy and consistency was prized. The state was supreme.
Giving Oleg control over the most watched television, radio, and streaming media network in the nation would give him the power to assert his own agenda. Influence what was and was not aired, how open or closed the media was able to be. Sergey had never interfered with the press, not once. He was gambling Oleg wouldn’t either.
Oleg whistled. “Mr. President. Such a buy in would not be cheap.”
He named the price. Enough to keep the country moving for another three weeks. Enough to buy him time to find more cash, more aid. Spin more plates in the air, juggle more chainsaws.
“Let me think about this, Mr. President. I will call you back soon.”
“Thank you, Oleg. And, I will call Ilya, have someone investigate your shipping troubles. And my people nearby will give you a call. They will take care of your shipping problems.” He hung up and texted Ilya. Anton and Aleksey should be able to meet Oleg in Irkutsk. They likely knew who was behind the robberies. Siberia was a dangerous place again, thanks to Moroshkin.
He slumped against the wall and tipped his head back.Just keep your head above water. Keep the people going. Keep them happy. Keep them safe.
