Into the Lion's Den (13 page)

“I'm very confused about you.”

“To start a relationship is never easy nor straightforward. The ‘they lived happily ever after’ doesn't exist, like this ‘love at first sight’ theory. You like a person and from there you get along or not; you love him or not, but it's not something that appears overnight. It's crazy to think that you will see someone and in two days and a couple of dinners you will decide to spend your life with this person regardless of the gender.”

“You're right, Constantin,” Guntram mumbled more at loss than before not knowing from where the sadness engulfing him had come from.

“I think that you're very beautiful and I would love to start something with you, but I'm sure that you will feel very disappointed if we don't work out at all. Your talent as an artist already makes you precious for me and I don't want to be the cause for you to stop working or progressing. You're starting your life, I'm in the middle of it therefore our priorities are not the same. You want to build, I want to preserve what I have. You're building your personality and I have a lot of personality,” he laughed. “Too much according to my partners and competitors.”

“I don't know what I want any longer.”

“Make no plans for the future; take things as they come. Know only your priorities because life will move you at random. You can't fight fate or fortune. You have a talent for something—and I realised it much before I knew who you were, so you can't tell that my opinion is biased—and that's much more than many people start with in life. Two art dealers agree with me. Follow your instincts for once and don't think things over because finally you'll achieve nothing. Take this opportunity I'm offering and this will be independently of what happens on a personal level between us, and see how you do.”

“Maybe I should take my chances with you…”

“Exactly, if you don't like it, tell it to me and we split, no regrets and no shouts. I promise to tell you the minute I'm not interested in you any longer. I don't want lies between us.”

“I don't know what to do next. I would like to be friends with you but I don't know what to say or do.”

“Start by finishing your tea. It must be cold by now,” Constantin replied, pleased that the boy had accepted his conditions and rules. Oblomov was right: ordering him is useless; a soft leading and he goes everywhere you want. “Let's do not rush things between us. No one is pressing us to do anything. Take your time to discover me and explore yourself. Rushing things is never good and patience is a virtue.”

Guntram never expected that the Russian would leave his chair, walked around the table and kissed him softly on the lips without a previous warning. He stood there, frozen for a moment as the kiss slowly melted his resistance. Constantin's hand caressing his cheek gave him the required boldness to return the kiss and putting his arms around the man's neck, totally lost in the ministrations he was receiving. He almost yelped when the Russian forced him to stand and his arms crushed his waist pulling him against his chest, feeling like two iron bars effectively trapping him.

“Stay here with me, don't go home. I leave in two days,” Constantin whispered in the blond's ear as he nibbled the earlobe, making him shudder. 'So inexperienced, it's wonderful'. “You can stay in the guest room or in my bed if you want.”

“I don't know.”

“We won't repeat yesterday's exercise if that's your main concern. You were drunk and we both need to know each other before we take things one step further. You have to trust me as this is the basis for any relationship, Guntram. Tonight, I have some business meetings and a dinner with the locals, but I would like to know that you're here and find you here upon my return.”

After pondering for a while, Guntram answered; “yes, I'll stay if you want,” just to be silenced by another devastating kiss. Still dazed his mind could only register the “I'll tell Carlos, the butler to arrange everything.

I'm afraid you will have to dine alone tonight, but tomorrow we can be together.

“Well, Yuri Alexandrevich and you owe me $500,” a more than satisfied Oblomov told Zakharov's henchman. “The boy agreed to stay here and sleep with the boss.”

“No way!” An incredulous Boris Gregorevich shouted. “I read the note he was writing and he was sending the boss to hell!”

“Never underestimate the boss, Boris Gregorevich. You owe me also money now.”

“I don't mind paying this one, Ivan Ivanovich. Is the boy as good as you say? He looks very well from the distance,” a tall man smirked while he put some papers back in his briefcase.

“He's off limits for all of us. Respect him or you'll be in troubles,” Oblomov barked very seriously. “Boss took a lot of effort to get this one.”

“Boss saved almost two million dollars for one like him,” Yuri smirked. “With such face, body and education, he should reach top prices.”

“You're wrong; one like him, speaking three languages, well educated, good looking, real blond goes to the Middle East or Asia where they can afford to pay more; 3.4 million, I would say,” Boris evaluated. “He's very exotic, if you ask me, although a little old.”

“Not all of us want to change diapers and clean noses, Boris Gregorevich,” Oblomov huffed. “Be quiet if you don't want to see the boss furious with you. I'm warning all of you, no deals around him, speak Russian only if you have to. He's convinced that we all are into the oil and transport business and are serious businessmen from Russia.”

The men laughed at the last sentence. “Boss says that you have to fix this problem with the people in that slum he likes to help. He should never set a foot in there ever again, is that clear?”

“Incredible, I have to kick the Mother Theresa out,” Yuri smirked. “The boys will visit the man in charge there and he will ban the boy. Should we take care of the priest too?”

“No, we don't want to attract any kind of attention. This is the Order's territory and we are here only as investors, nothing else. They invited us as they think this could be a good opportunity for all of us.”

“Since when is Lintorff generous? He's after something big this time.”

“He's just sharing this land. He knows he can't hold it all by himself and needs some allies here. Some cartels start to revolt and disobey him. He needs us and he has had a good working relationship with the boss for the past twelve years.”

“I hope boss knows where he's getting into. Lintorff respects nothing. If he has not released his hounds on “his troublesome lambs,” it's because he expects to win something from us or make us clean his backyard for him.

Remember 1989 when he had the uprising,” Boris Gregorevich huffed, visibly upset at the memory.

“We only helped with the cleaning and look, Petrom was handed on a silver tray to us. Give me more of those deals. He's only planning to overthrow the local government to make the Americans suffer a bit and get some good investment opportunities for all of us. He can't do it too openly, but many of his ‘brothers’ are circling around this country like the hungry wolves they're. We have to get the gold mines concessions before the Americans do it.

This capital flight he has started two weeks ago will finish them in a few months. The local president is a useless prick and the opposition is bidding his time to throw him out. All the local industries are dying to make a default to save their companies from their huge debts in dollars and will support it.”

“Bad payers are bad for the business Ivan Ivanovich. You know it well.”

“Boris, my friend, don't think for a minute that Lintorff will not make more money out of this little country than what he might lose in the upfront. He adores playing the victim. Von Kleist told me that he bought five miserable million dollars in bonds to show his support for the local government and the idiots congratulated themselves for getting a pat in the head!”

“Boss should be careful; he's dangerous as enemy and worst as friend. A real demon.”

“I know him well, Boris Gregorevich. The only good thing you can say about him is that he never attacks you unless you provoke him. Remember that simple rule, and you'll be fine. The little lamb stays for dinner.

Tell it to the maid and she should prepare his room.”

Constantin was pleased as the dinner had not been a total waste of his precious time. He and Oblomov had finally wrapped up the price for the forty-five years concession on the gold mines in the South with the governor's henchman and the State Secretary, leaving the Americans out of the game. Ivan had done his part very well threatening to leave the negotiation table when they wanted to increase their commissions once more. Finally, they had settled for a miserable percentage on the estimated volume. “Their prospections were outdated, wrong and they had no idea about the mining business,” Oblomov was telling him in the car. “Perhaps these politicians should hire the seven dwarfs from Snow White as advisers and would get a better picture than what they have now. Poor Zakharov, to retire in this country! At least, people are nice if you don't expect much of them.”

Speaking directly with the governor's henchman had been more profitable than losing his time with that stupid woman and her idiotic Senator friends. 'No, I endured her and the brat she has for son, just to get my angel. I have him now, so I can send them to Hell.'

The transport business was dead as it needed a huge investment just to turn it into something decent and the unions were impossible to deal with. No, I'll try my luck with oil and some farming after the collapse.'

“Boss, do you need me?” Oblomov took him out of his reverie.

“No, you can go away. Be back tomorrow evening,” he chuckled.

“I want to check some of our associates, those resenting Lintorff. They want to use our people in the export business as we control the harbours in southern Spain.”

“Ivan, I don't want troubles with him. If the Colombians and Mexicans want to expand their business, they should start to respect territories. Not a single gram in our docks that has not been approved by the Order. We have a non aggression pact since 1991 and I'm not going to break it.”

“They want some equipment from us.”

“They can shop by us, but inform Mladic or Pavicevic in advance. They're quite jealous.”

“I don't trust Lintorff. He's after something boss.”

“I'm sure of it but he has not shown his game so far, so we stay put. Perhaps he's only putting his “little lambs” back in fold. I heard the people in Medellín refused to pay their share and look what happened to them. Maybe the others need a reminder of their previous bosses' fate.”

“Lintorff and his people are only offering advice and that smells fishy. They sold everything they had in this country; stocks, bonds, industry.”

“To buy it back cheaper! Don't you know him already? He's into a bucolic phase so to speak; he wants lands and agribusiness. His man, Landau told me so and showed me all the field studies they have done over the past months. They're even buying lands in the judicial auctions. Germans are always crazy to get a piece of land! He will not go after the oil or mining. He refuses to buy a bank here! The one who's having a hard time is Meyer as head in Sao Paulo because Lintorff's shopping list there is larger than life, Ivan.”

“Why does he need us?”

“To stop the Americans; snitch all what the Colombians tell you or buy by us and keep his profile low.

He can't take it all and that's something I admire in him; he knows perfectly well his limits and is not greedy.”

Constantin changed into his pyjamas somewhat disappointed that Guntram was not sleeping in his bed.

'Probably he's in own one, still debating if that's a good idea at all,' he chuckled while he went to check on his angel, soundly asleep in his bed.

The dim light coming from the corridor showed well his features and Constantin had to fight not to fall into a trance at watching them. 'So beautiful and tender, almost as if someone would have created him especially for me. He's all mine.' Very carefully the man moved the covers away and joined the boy in the bed, spooning his body against the slender back.

Guntram woke up when someone touched him but he relaxed when he saw it was Constantin. “It's you.

I'm sorry I didn't wait for you,” he whispered as his hand took the Russian's hand and pressed it against his chest.

“Go back to sleep. I didn't want to wake you up. It's very late.”

“Everything fine?”

“Yes, my dear. Everything is fine now.

Chapter 6
Guntram de Lisle's Diary

December 17th 2001.

I still can't believe that I'm here. On my way to London to see Constantin. The last time I saw him was
around my birthday and then we only exchange e-mails or spoke twice in the phone; once in mid November to
convince me to come earlier to Europe, but I didn't want because I wanted to finish the term at the University and stay
with the children at Father Patricio's school for as long as I could. Unfortunately, the boss there, Cucho, decided to
throw out all “outsiders” and only let the school teachers and the priest. Who knows what he's doing in the moment
as he doesn't want witnesses. As if I would have spoken about his deals. Also Maria, the leader of the Peronist Party
didn't want us there as we were “competition” against her. As if a few Church volunteers would rob her from her
precious votes! I still remember the time when they were giving only one shoe to the children so their parents will vote
that party and getting the other if they were getting the amount of expected votes. It was much worse when they gave
the school material for the photo and took it away, not even an hour later. I truly despise those politicians! If you're
not with them and do part of what you get from your unemployment money, you're out and they make your life
miserable.

The second time Constantin called me was a few days ago, on the twelfth, to order me (literally) to take
a plane with his man, Mikhail Massaiev to London. I tried to reason with him telling him that I still had to sit for my
tests, but he didn't want to hear anything. “You'll present them in March, Guntram. I want that you come to England
as latest as the seventeenth.