The Devil's Handshake (32 page)

“
Some rich Indian called
Gouramangi Singh,” answered the leader of Adwalland.

“
He is in diamonds not oil!”
thought Thomas surprised. Although he had heard of him their paths
had never crossed.

“
Okay, what do you believe
will help you with the Council?”

“
I think I need ten million
U.S. dollars in cash to keep them in line,” answered the President
sincerely.

“
I will organize to have the
cash transferred,” Thomas answered decisively having also reflected
on Rebecca’s warning of a week ago and thinking it had to be
linked. “But I will need to go Moscow and make sure our partners
are satisfied as to the reasons why,” he added.

“
Of course, I understand,
when will you return?” the concerned President asked.

“
I will be back next week
for the arrival of the Russian Ambassador,” he answered to a now
very relieved President.

Not wanting to waste any time, Thomas left
the President’s residence and went straight to the airport.

On boarding his Boeing BBJ to head off to
Moscow, he noticed a G-4 parked up by the Cargo hanger.

“
That’s the GSG plane,”
Mikhail said, reading his thoughts.

“
Where are they staying?”
Thomas asked.

“
With our friend Wasir,”
answered Mikhail before again beating him to the punch by adding he
had asked Barek to get his system of street kids to discreetly keep
an eye on him having observed the exchange between Thomas and the
President.

One other thing he did as well was to ask
Angus to get some intelligence on the Indians.

Once settled into their seats for takeoff
Mikhail asked Yossi for the printout of what the former solider had
sent across.

“
From Angus,” said Mikhail
as Yossi handed the notes to Thomas.

Casting his eyes over the report Thomas
reflected that thought it made interesting reading, but he couldn’t
quite get his head around why he was offering such an uneconomic
deal from his point of view.

“
One could argue he was of a
marketer or retailer, therefore, inexperienced,” he countered
trying to see the Indian’s point of view, but because he had a
joint venture in a mine in Alaska that meant Singh should have
enough experience with ‘Hardhats’ to understand that offering deals
of this nature would never appeal to an investor base in London or
Canada let alone New York, not to mention by trying to secure all
the rights already contracted he was putting at risk a major piece
of infrastructure that would be created to export the
product.

With plenty of rights to go around because
Thomas and his investors had advised the President and his Energy
and Mines Minister to structure it as such on the basis that
encouraging investment meant the country could grow faster, it was
nothing but plain stupid.

So again reflecting back on the Rebecca
discussion of a few days ago still not quite believing it he as he
thought through it, Thomas concluded that the Indian had to be
receiving money from one source and one source only with a
completely different agenda to that of business.

“
This is fucking suicidal!”
Saul who never swore unless stressed interrupted Thomas’s train of
thought for a moment.

“
He couldn’t possibly afford
five billion in infrastructure either!” Thomas added, referring to
the sum that the Russian Miners and TLH as one of the Anglo-Russian
Oil and Gas producers had secured from the Russian Government when
Saul finished walking him through the numbers.

“
So what or who do you think
is behind our Mr. Singh?” he asked Saul, wanting his trusted CFO
input not just his own conclusion to mull over just as one of the
team pretty air hostesses brought him his customary glass of Blue
Label on the rocks.

“
I am on the case!” replied
Saul not being able to answer Thomas at that time.

It didn’t matter. Thomas figured he already
knew the answer: The United States of America.

33

Moscow

They arrived at Sheremetievo airport’s
private terminal early Tuesday morning. They progressed quickly
through customs and immigration because the resident FSB officer
had cleared them as belonging to the ‘trusted person’s list,’ a
godsend as Mikhail’s and Saul’s Israeli passports under most
circumstances would have meant at least a two hour delay traveling
in and out of Russia.

Getting quickly into the dark blue armored
Range Rovers the TLH group owned, Thomas and the team set off for
his home in Moscow with a black BMW X5 with a blue light from the
FSB tailing them.

The Director of FSB Dmitri Arkady Pavlov was
sending his message, “I am always watching you,” just as he did
with Thomas and all of the seventeen super wealthy brethren, all
with a net worth of over one billion U.S. dollars in Russia
otherwise known as “a National Champion.”

With a gifted Russian passport, Thomas was
considered no different, despite on this occasion, having used his
British documentation, as the visit was unplanned.

Traveling quickly through the dark streets
due to the fact that the early morning arrival had provided them
with the benefit of being able to avoid the dreaded Moscow traffic
that seemed to get worse every time he returned to the city, they
reached the house thirty minutes later.

Met by his former Ghurkha batman Sgt. Tan and
his wife, who ran the house and had done so ever since he had
bought it when he had first come to Russia in the early 1990s. A
tired and jetlagged Thomas asked Tan to wake him at six-thirty
before making his way to the bedroom where he hit the bed, fully
dressed apart from his shoes and fell fast asleep.

Three hours later Mr. Tan, just like when
they were in Army, gently placed a cup of extra sweet English
Breakfast Tea by the side of his bed. Old habits dying hard Thomas
was instantly awake and alert.

“
Good Morning, Sir Thomas!”
beamed the batman.

“
Mrs. Tan will have
breakfast ready for you in the Conservatory whenever you’re ready,”
he continued with a smile because he was happy to have his former
commanding officer back home.

“
Thank you, Tan,” Thomas
said rubbing his weary eyes as his old Army Batman and trusted
servant left the bedroom.

Sitting up, the former Gurkha officer took a
sip of the sweet tea. Instantly the potion did its magic by helping
to clear his mind. Seeing he was still dressed, Thomas got up,
quickly took his clothes off then walked into the dressing room
then finally into the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later, completely refreshed,
the old warrior emerged from the bedroom, clean-shaven wearing a
simple tailored blue suit with a sky blue shirt and tie, and then
went downstairs for breakfast.

Entering the conservatory he found Saul
already up and dressed like him except he was in a grey suit with
white shirt and purple silk tie.

“
Morning, Boss,” he said
with a smile as he set about bashing his boiled eggs.

“
Bloody hell, Saul, don’t
you ever sleep?”

At just thirty-three years of age with short
cropped jet-black thick hair, deep blue eyes and a thin physique,
Saul Berkovic had become Thomas’s CFO of his Private Office after
having been recommended for the job by Hanna Pschenicnikov who knew
his family well before she had married Mikhail.

Joining TLH straight after graduating from
the London Business School, the hawkish looking book warrior had
become an indispensable member of his team over the last few years
because of his “terrier” ability in being able to run the numbers
for the hordes of lawyers and bankers of the overall group around
the world. So much so, Thomas had made him an Executive Director of
TLH Group and one of Victoria’s trustees despite his young age.

“
No rest for the dammed,”
replied Saul taking it as a backhanded compliment. Thomas just
shook his head while he sipped a cup of coffee.

Breakfast over, Thomas departed to his study.
Unlike his homes in England his Moscow abode was ultra-modern in
design, with Swedish look with black and white and stainless steel
reflecting the style of the furniture. The art in the room though,
was most definitely Russian with a beautiful Icon from Peter the
Great era of the Madonna and Child taking center stage.

He looked at the vintage Patek watch on his
wrist, a special gift he had never changed, as the timepiece had
come from his mother. Seeing it was seven-thirty he picked up the
phone on his desk and dialed the CEO of the new Russian-Adwalland
joint venture Bank. Then the CEO of the Russian Correspondence Bank
before finally the person who was his overriding reason for coming
to Moscow: Alexei Nikolai Anynkov.

“
Good morning, Director,”
Thomas offered as soon as the Director of the SVR picked up his
call, earning a simple reply of his name in Russian as an
acknowledgement.

Knowing Anynkov didn’t bother with small
talk, Thomas asked for a meeting with him to give an update on
matters in Adwalland, again Alexei Nikolai was quick in his
response by confirming he could see him at ten o’clock.

As he put the telephone back on the hook,
Mikhail walked into his office looking refreshed and as always
looking more like a businessman than his personal bodyguard in his
Brioni suit instead of his Adwalland attire of chinos, desert
boots. The holster with his Heckler & Glock pistol in it showed
over his polo shirt with dark sunglasses over his eyes.

Morning greetings out of the way, Thomas
informed him that they had a meeting with Alexei Nikolai at ten
o’clock. Looking at his watch, knowing that the office of the SVR
was on the other side of Moscow, Mikhail immediately suggested that
they leave at eight thirty knowing the unreliability of the
ever-growing Muscovite traffic it would be a push to get there on
time

“
Oh and tell Saul to get
some sleep, will you Mikhail?” Thomas added concerned that his
young CFO was burning himself out.

“
He needs a good wife,”
replied Mikhail with a smile.

“
Who says that, you or
Hanna?” asked Thomas, knowing Hanna’s habit of acting like a good
commanding officer wife when it came to life’s of many members of
his team, and that including him before Nara entered his life all
those years ago.

“
No, comment!” Mikhail said
as he departed his study.

As always Mikhail was right on the money; the
traffic was absolutely terrible. Arriving at quarter to ten and on
walking into the tall structure known as “Les” or “Wood” in English
on the outskirts of Moscow in the Yasenevo District amongst the
trees that surround it, Thomas was met by an attractive blonde in
her late twenties and immediately shown to a conference room.

Refusing the offer of tea, Thomas waited
patiently for Alexei Nikolai. In business life, Russians hate being
late, seeing it as a kind of impoliteness Thomas took it for what
it was and in spite of his unique relationship with Russia and his
citizenship he was still a foreigner in the eyes of the technocrats
that run the country and as such he would always remain so.

Over the last five years since Alexei Nikolai
had become the head of the SVR the organization of 13,000 men and
women had redeveloped itself into an impressive network of
operatives that followed the second pillar of recruitment for the
“Love of Russia.” Though Thomas wasn’t one of them in heart, the
Mayor had made sure he was very much an instrument as when
needed.

“
Good Morning, Fama,” said
Alexei Nikolai entering the room not bothering to give his hand as
he sat down. Despite the insult nevertheless Thomas responded
politely using the Director’s title in front of his surname instead
of the informal but respectful use of his two Christian
names.

Having listened for ten minutes during which
his assistant delivered them both a pot of black tea, Alexei
offered his views.

“
So you believe Singh is
being bankrolled by Americans interests?”

“
I have no proof, but it
makes sense, the economics of the deal suggest a primary
underwriter of the deal he is offering and the Americans have been
very vocal in their attacks on this investment,” replied Thomas. He
was referring to the media he knew the Director of SVR Analysts
would have almost certainly been monitoring including his personal
interview, but still not declaring the actual source of the
intelligence that had confirmed it for him had actually come from
Rebecca in their meeting at Farrow Hall.

Taking a sip of tea, Thomas tried to gauge
the director’s reaction.

“
Do you believe the
President’s at risk?” Alexei Nikolai probed.

Thomas nodded then offered, “I have to say
the answer is Yes!” before adding that he had also asked the bank
to make ready the ten million U.S. dollars in cash to take back
with him to assist in shoring up the President’s position with the
chiefs.

Alexei took a moment to reflect on Thomas’s
response in silence. It was true the American media had been
carefully increasing the temperature through various worldwide
media outlets over the last couple of months. This method of
destabilization certainly wasn’t new—they had used the same
strategy in Russia in the early 1990s.

The new director of the CIA also had a
reputation of being a manipulator of the dark arts.

With an ambassador due to be deployed next
week. A regime change was the last thing Alexei felt he needed
primarily because Vladimir Vladimirovich had made this agreement a
cornerstone example of the re-emergence of Russia’s traditional
rights in the world.