April 22, 1996
Monday
11:00 a.m.
Zhorik slipped into the office and dropped into a chair. Huh. Usually he blew in like a hurricane, like Andrei Mironov playing Figaro or Ostap Bender. Right now he looked more like Oleg Dal playing Zilov: staring into space, mumbling... briefing me:
— Tomorrow you’re flying to London. Three days for the paperwork. Then Paris, the notary, and Gare de Lyon. Night train to Nice, I’ll be waiting offshore.
I didn’t understand a word, nodded just in case. Zhorik ordered me to head out in half an hour.
We went out to the courtyard and, against Yasha’s orders to travel separately, both climbed into the back of the Balmung.
We drove off.
We sped toward Khryakino under the wail of our newly acquired official flashers. My Durandal followed in convoy with the Balmung, two Land Cruisers, and an Iveco Daily van. Our combined security — mine and Zhorik’s — was riding together for the first time.
On the road, the mumbling continued:
— From here on, you’re on your own. If you were military, I’d dress you in a tunic with braid and aiguillettes, so people could spot a general from a mile off. But you’re a civilian. So when they invite you to boozy get-togethers, hunting, fishing, and all those local-notable shindigs and land-reclamation-worker’s-day festivities, tell them you’re buried up to your sideburns, just bought a house in Tunbridge Wells, England, and you’re dealing with renovations. Plus the villa on Cap Ferrat needs furnishing. Every weekend’s booked solid. In the same breath, invite them to visit once the renovation’s done, but don’t advertise where. Got it?
— Not really!
— You still look like a Young Pioneer. Trading your Breitling for a Vacheron, sure, good move! But you need different flexing: a villa on the Riviera and a cottage in Kent, so you can invite acquaintances of federal rank over. They don’t give a damn about these particular guests, they’ve got their own shacks a street over, but the flex still counts. Ask the passing-through regional-level types to stop by too — say your old mother would be delighted — but don’t give them the address. Give it only to the ones who actually settle things.
— How do I know who settles things?
— Simple. A problem comes up, you’ll figure out who’s actually got their hands on the levers and who’s just puffing out their cheeks. In every region there’s one guy all the threads lead back to, and it’s not the governor. Our job isn’t to spray cash across the region trying to settle things — it’s to hand the final bribe to the one specific local who settles things for good. Got it?
— No!
— You’ll get it later. Remember the principle — the main one, for safe business and safe sex alike: «Always give it to the head.» Remember that? Now, personal matters. My convoy’s yours now. Land Cruisers front and back, then the Durandal with the Delka. The Delka’s yours now, we’ll get the interior detailed tomorrow. Don’t trash it, and don’t use the same car two trips running. Alternate the Durandal with the Delka. You can ride in the Land Cruiser if you want. Yasha will explain how to move around properly. Follow his security advice to the letter. Now, the office.
Remember this. Officially, Ida reports to you now, but really she keeps my office and you don’t give her orders. Come up with some unobtrusive title. Consultant, or advisor. Everything in the briefcase, — Zhorik nodded at the red briefcase sitting between us on the back seat — is in Ida’s head. She’ll tell you what to do. Work it like this: after any negotiation or standoff, don’t decide anything off the cuff. Slow down. Be alone, no one around. Think it over, drink on it, sleep it off, in the morning with a hangover think it over again, consult whoever you think worth consulting over a bottle... Then in the morning, think it through one more time, sober, alone. Whatever you land on, dictate it to Ida. Once you’ve dictated it to her, the matter’s under control. Ida will handle it. If you thought it through right, it’ll turn out right. If you dictated nonsense, she’ll make you redictate it... sober and sensible... until you sober up and smarten up, basically...
