The Lost Ballet

by Richard Dorrance

  Chapter 63 – How to Make it Happen

  It had been several weeks since Henric the moneyman had been to The Hall. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in the dance project; it’s just that it has to compete against his now almost fanatical interest in sailing. A month ago the Vendee Around the World Sailboat Race had ended in Charleston, and he had gotten himself invited to the culmination party at the Charleston Yacht Club, where he met the winner and the five others who completed the event. When he first had bought himself a boat and learned to sail, his ambition was to take his wife and his Charleston friends on a trip over to St. Barths. He still wanted to do that, but now, after meeting the around the worlders, he, of course, wanted to sail around the world. Not alone, as those brave souls had done, but with a fully qualified crew. So he had two major things going on in his life, and recently, the sailing thing was on top.

  Helstof had dragged him down to The Hall early, and now he sat with the others. Helstof had kept him up to date on the progress of the project, including a very funny description of Bart’s now infamous naked costume fitting. The first thing Henric did upon arriving at The Hall was to demand to see the briefs. That was how he referred to them, as briefs. In his view they hardly could be described as costumes. When Gale handed him the box, and he pulled out the twirling comet one, he turned to Bart and said, “You’re going to wear that, on stage, in public? Just that? Are you crazy?”

  Bart said, “I’m not going to wear that, because I’m not one of the dancers. I’m one of the choreographers. But, yes, the dancers are going to wear these, and it’s going to be wild. And if I was one of the dancers, I would wear it. It feels good. Feels nice. Very free.” Helstof took the box away from Henric before he could see the others, fearing he might wonder if his money was being well spent. Especially right now, since the purpose of tearing him away from his stupid boat and getting him down to The Hall was to ask him to do something unusual.

  Gwen stood up and walked around the circle, delicately composing the request to him. She said, “During the Hermitage heist you did some amazing things. You got the trucks into the compound, and out. You arranged for the goods to be put into containers, and for the containers to end up in Charleston. You smuggled the Ps out of the country, and got Roger safely out of the compound and onto the plane with me.”

  Listening to this, the Ps had to fight their inclination to add to Gwen’s recitation the fact that Henric had smuggled them out of Russia by encasing them in one of the giant shipping containers, along with a bunch of chairs and clocks and rugs from the Hermitage warehouses. They spent eight long days in the container before arriving in their new home of Charleston, South Carolina. Gwen sensed their emotion and shot them a warning look….shut up.

  She said, “Now we need you to do something amazing for this project.” He waited calmly for the request. He liked Gwenny June. “We’re going to stick it to Stirg. His production is in full swing in Saint Petersburg. He stole the Hermitage goods from us, and he stole the Stravinsky score from us. Now we’re going to steal something from him.” Henric leaned forward in his chair, intent on Gwen’s next sentence. “We’re going to steal his dancers from him. The Mariinsky dancers, all of them. Bring them here and have them dance for us. For the American production of the ballet. And we need your help.”

  During his heyday as one of Russia’s most powerful businessmen, Henric had been involved in lots of shady deals. Helping the Junes steal the Hermitage stuff was just one in a fat portfolio of highly lucrative ventures he had participated in over a long and illustrious career. But never had he kidnapped anyone. Thinking back on it, that was a glaring hole in his otherwise sterling resume. It looked now like he could remedy that flaw, and in spades. He wasn’t going to kidnap just one person, the way a lot of Russian gangsters did; Gwen and his wife, who sat next to him, were asking him to kidnap an entire Russian dance troupe. This was worth being dragged off the sailboat for.

  He gestured to Gwen with his hands: keep talking. “Catherine got Mikhail Baryshnikov to join Stirg’s team in Saint Petersburg, as choreographer. The Mariinsky couldn’t refuse his offer. But, he’s working for us. The plan is for him to insist that the dancers go to Paris for a couple of days as part of their training for his choreography. They do some stuff there, then go back to Saint Petersburg. But that’s not what’s going to happen. Not if you can do an amazing thing.” Helstof put her hand on his arm, and squeezed, her signal that this was something he had to do. Gwen said, “The dancers will think they’re getting on a plane for the two hour flight to Paris. But it won’t go there; it will come here.”

  Henric blinked his eyes and looked at his wife. Jesus. A mass kidnapping of Russian ballet dancers. Holy shit. He said, “What’s going to happen when the plane lands here? From what I understand, there are more than just a few national security forces that frown on large airplanes entering their airspace without predetermined and approved flight plans. I have an idea of the reaction of the United States Air Force to noticing a plane bound from Russia to Paris suddenly deviating from its course and making a beeline for the east coast. And who, besides the dancers, are going to be on the plane? Any Ministry of Cultural Affairs security officers? They have them, you know.”

  The rest of the team listened intently, because all of Henric’s questions had occurred to them, of course. Gwen said, “We didn’t say it was going to be easy, but we think you can do it. Look, the flight plan of the plane will be Saint Petersburg to Charleston. The pilots will know that, and the Saint Petersburg airport will know that. The flight plan will be filed with the U.S. Federal Aviation Authority, all legit. But the dancers and the others from the Mariinsky WON’T know that. They will think they’re going to Paris. That’s part of your job, making all those plane arrangements, including renting the plane and setting it up as a legitimate charter flight.”

  The woman, the bean counter, said, “And paying for it.”

  Henric looked at her, then at Gwen, then at his wife, then at the other team members. He processed the scam. After a few moments he said, “Ok, so let’s say I can set all that up, without someone from the Mariinsky or the Ministry of Cultural Affairs, or someone from some Russian security agency smelling a rat. Let’s say we get all these people on the plane and on their way here. What happens when the plan lands? What are we going to do with fifty kidnapped people in leotards and tutus? You going to keep them at your house?” looking at Gwen and Roger.

  Gwen said, “We haven’t quite figured that out yet, but we have some ideas, and Baryshnikov is working on them. We send stuff to Catherine in Paris, and she has a way to send it to him. She keeps him in line.”

  “Ideas, such as….?”

  “Three ideas, or a combination of them. First, almost all the dancers are under thirty. They’re young. And the Mariinsky organization and audience is older, traditionalist, and conservative. We can appeal to their sense of modernity, art, community, and the future of ballet, which is what we talked about before. We tell them we are targeting younger people for our audience rather than the usual older and more conservative aficionados. Second idea is we offer them some job security, and pension them off for three years. They can do what they want, find jobs anywhere they can, and still have a good salary. That’s more than some of them would get at the Mariinsky.” Gwen stood looking at Henric.

  “And the third idea?”

  “The third idea came from Helstof. She’s been involved in every aspect of it.” She looked at Helstof, who nodded and smiled. “Her idea is to start a company. For real. Full blast, full production ballet company, using as many of the Mariinsky dancers as want to sign on. Commit to five years. Maybe here in Charleston, maybe somewhere else. But the Russian dancers would form the core of the new troupe.”

  Henric looked at his wife, who said, “We spend part of our time sailing, and part doing this. That’s the idea. We can stay here and do it,
or move wherever you want. Sailing and ballet, for five years. Adventure and art. What do you think?”

  “Who’s going to take care of the dog while we’re sailing around the world?”

  The Ps raised their hands at the same time, with Pater saying, “As long as we’re in your troupe. We’ll mind the dog and the dancers while you’re off dodging giant waves in the South Pacific.”

  He looked at Selgey, Bart, The Whosey, and the woman, all of whom remained noncommittal. He shrugged, looked back at his wife, and said, “Can we afford it?”

  “As long as you don’t blow it all playing cards in Monaco, or on that Brazilian woman.”

  “Deal.”

  “Ok, then,” said Gwen. “We tell Catherine to tell Baryshnikov he has his choice of all three ways to convince the dancers not to call the cops, the FBI, the Russian Embassy, and the Dept of Homeland Security, the minute they land in Charleston. And we hope he is a very persuasive guy. Otherwise, we’re screwed.” She paused. “Anyone wants to back out, it’s the right time. No hard feelings.” She looked around.

  Under their breaths, every one of them said, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph.”