“Is the tap in the German chancellor’s office reliable?” President Sen’kov asked.
“As reliable as any microwave tap set up over a week ago,” Stepashin replied noncommittally. “The Germans will undoubtedly find it and shut our tap down. They may already have discovered it and are feeding us crap, just so they can watch us have these early-morning meetings and chase our tails around for a day or two. We may spend a few weeks having to sift through mountains of data and thousands of pages of transcribed phone conversations and find out it is all garbage.” He thought for a moment, then added, “But usually when a tap is discovered, the chancellor and most of the members of the Cabinet retreat to alternate locations or go on a foreign trip until their offices can be swept. No one has left Bonn, except for the vice chancellor, and he had a meeting scheduled in Brazil for weeks. In fact, the Cabinet has had two unscheduled meetings since President Thorn’s call last night. I believe the information to be factual.”
“What are you talking about, General?” National Security Advisor Yejsk asked. “The United States is the most powerful nation on Earth. Their economy is strong, their people are happy, it’s a good place to live and invest and emulate. Like Disneyland.” He chuckled, then added, “Apparently not like EuroDisney, though.”
“Nikki is right,” Foreign Minister Ivan Filippov said. “Besides, it’s a societal and anthropological fact: the wealthier the nation, the more they tend to withdraw.”
“The United States is not going to withdraw from anything,” Minister of Defense Trubnikov said. “Withdrawing from peacekeeping duties in Kosovo and Bosnia — what the hell, we were all considering it, even before the death. of Gregor Kazakov. Great Britain and Italy were looking for a graceful way out; the rest of NATO, the French, and the nonaligned nations will not remain behind if the others pull out.”
“That leaves Russia and Germany,” President Sen’kov said. “The question is, do we want to be in the Balkans? Sergey? What do you think?”
“We have discussed this many times, sir,” National Security Advisor Sergey Yejsk replied. “Despite your predecessor’s talk of unity between Slavic peoples, we have virtually nothing in common with the Serbs or any interest in the civil wars or the breakup of Yugoslavia. The Yugoslavs are nothing but murderous animals — they invented the word ‘vendetta,’ not the Sicilians. The Red Army proportionally lost more soldiers to Yugoslav guerrillas than we did to the Nazis. Marshal Tito was the biggest Thorn in Stalin’s side since that smug pig Churchill. We stood behind the Serbs because that stupid bigoted shit Milosevic opposed the Americans and NATO.” He paused, then said, “We should get out of the Balkans, too, Mr. President.”
“We should stay,” Trubnikov said immediately. “The Americans will not leave the Balkans. Macedonia, Slovenia, Bulgaria — they want to make them members of NATO. If we leave, NATO will swarm into Eastern Europe. They’ll be knocking on the Kremlin doors before we know it.”
“Always the alarmist, eh, Viktor?” Foreign Minister Filippov said with a smile. “We should stay in the Balkans simply because the Americans are leaving. We milk the public relations value for all it’s worth, then depart when we can sell that to the world, too. We are staying to keep the warring factions apart; now we’re leaving because we have restored peace and stability to the Balkans.”
“The problem is, getting out before our forces lose any more soldiers like Gregor Kazakov,” Yejsk added. “If we sustain heavy guerrilla losses and then depart, we look like cowards.”
“Russia will not flee either Chechnya or the Balkans,” Sen’kov said resolutely. “I like the public relations idea best of all. If it is true, and the Americans leave the Balkans, it will be seen as a sign of weakness. We can exploit that. But remaining in the Balkans might be a waste of resources at best and dangerous at worst. After a few months, maybe a year, we depart.” He turned to General Zhurbenko. “What about you, Colonel-General? You have been rather quiet. These are your men we are talking about.”
“I met with Pavel Gregorievich Kazakov, the night the caskets returned to Moscow,” he said solemnly. “He was angry because you did not attend the return.”
“Pavel Gregorievich,” Sen’kov muttered bitterly. “A chip off the old block, except his piece flew in an entirely different direction. We did a profile of the families of the dead soldiers that could attend the service, General. I was advised that it would be politically unpopular for me to attend. The analysis proved correct: Gregor’s wife virtually spat on the flag, in front of the other families. It was a very ugly scene. It only heightened whatever power Pavel Gregorievich has in this country.”
“I spoke with him at length, and so did my aide,” Zhurbenko said. A few of the president’s advisors smiled at that — they were well familiar with some of Major Ivana Vasilev’s unique talents and appetites. “Pavel Gregorievich doesn’t want power, he wants wealth.”
“And he is getting it, I suppose — a hundred drug overdoses a day in Moscow, because of uncontrollable heroin imports by scum like Kazakov,” Stepashin said acidly. “A mother will sell her baby for a gram of heroin and a hypodermic syringe. Yet Kazakov jets around the world, to his homes in Kazakhstan, Vietnam, and Venezuela, raking in money as fast as he can. He does not deserve to bear Gregor Mikhailievich’s name.”
“Did he threaten you? Did he threaten the president?” National Security Advisor Yejsk asked.
“No. He made us an offer,” Zhurbenko replied in a quiet voice. “A truly remarkable, unbelievable offer.” He had agonized over the decision to tell the president and the Security Council about Kazakov’s incredible proposals. He had harbored ideas about trying to manipulate events himself, but decided that was impossible. But if he had the full support of the government as well as the military, it might actually work.
“He says he can sell two and a half billion rubles’ worth of oil per day with a pipeline from the Black Sea to Albania.” He looked around at the stunned faces in the president’s office. “The plans for the pipeline exist, but it has not yet started because of all the political and domestic unrest in southern Europe, primarily Macedonia and Albania. But if the unrest ceased, or if the various governments turned in Russia’s favor, the pipeline project might be accelerated.”
“What was he offering, General?” Sen’kov asked in a low voice.
“More money than any of us have ever imagined,” Zhurbenko replied. “He wants to invest a quarter billion dollars to build the pipeline, plus another quarter billion in what he calls ‘dividends’ to investors. Hard currency, in foreign numbered accounts, untraceable. The pipeline can start flowing oil in about a year. And he offered more — he offered a way for Russia to once again become a great superpower, to regain its lost empire. He devised a way for Russia to earn untold millions of dollars a day in oil income, like a Middle East sheikhdom.”
“How can you believe anything that degenerate shit says?” Yejsk asked angrily. “He is a spoiled drug dealer who happened to get rich by stinking up half the Caspian Sea with his wildcat rigs. Where is Russia’s share of the wealth he has created? He shifts his money around in Kazakh, Asian, and Caribbean banks so fast no one can keep up with it, and yet he argues loud and long that his fees and tariffs from Moscow are too high. He should be reimbursing Russia for destroying the Caspian caviar trade, not to mention the thousands of lives he’s destroyed with his heroin imports.”