Doing Lunch

by Doing Lunch Free(Lit)

  “But all I hear about America is bureaucracy.”

  “There is bureaucracy, Yalantov. Yes, I admit it is there. Some is good, some not so good. Just look at the way the people live there, Yalantov, and I assure you that Americans are happier than the Russian people. Our people would be sadder if they knew what they were missing.”

  “Yes, things like Disneyland.” Alexi could always count on Orlina contributing to a conversation. He knew she could do other things besides scream out aerobics instructions.

  “Do you think we can do it?”

  “We are going to give it our best shot. Let me tell you something though about capitalism. The people who are willing to take the chance could do really well if they are successful. It is as they say in America, the greater the risk, the greater the reward.” Yalantov found himself captivated by this economic philosophy. He started to realize that the reason he had not heard it before was that he kept his mind so closed to anything but communism; he never listened.

  “That was very interesting, Mister Premier.”

  “I will tell you something, Yalantov, if we are successful, the ones that were with us at the beginning will do the best.”

  "Really?”

  “Yes, it is as they say in America, getting in on the ground floor. It means at the very beginning.” Yalantov pondered the ex-professor’s words, knowing the man’s reputation as a thinker.

  The cold war that existed in the Sergotoff house explained why Serge kept finding someone a distance from his wife to who he knew needed his ear. While the living room, immense in size and large enough to hold this gathering was still the object of possible remodeling to enlarge it. Alexi, staring around at the vastness of the room found it more than sufficient for its current needs. He started to think to himself that if they made the place any larger the Foreign Minister could hold a charity benefit ball there. Then again that would never happen since the only charity that Sergotoff might be willing to help was the one for Homeless Nazis’.

  The Sergotoffs were superlative hosts. They had a number of servants ambling about with trays of caviar and sushi. Alexi was proud of Orlina’s willpower these days, since these were the things that she would have died for just a short time back. Now that she was somewhat Americanized, and involved with this fitness routine, if she were going to cheat on her diet, it would be with a hamburger.

  The way Sergotoff was making his way around the living room in an attempt to avoid his wife; Alexi knew it was just a matter of time before the Foreign Minister would reach him. His time had come.

  “It is quite a showing here, Mister Sergotoff.”

  “But premier, would you expect me to embarrass Russia?”

  “No, I would not. This is quite a bit though.”

  “Ah, but wait until you taste the venison at dinner.” That’s right, this is a dinner party. That meant that Orlina would be going off her diet, something that she had so rigorously stuck to for weeks. He knew that she would not sacrifice the success without regaining the lost ground. Alexi was certain that this meant an extra aerobics class several times a week. The premier’s mind quickly went from world affairs to a cheap motel for a week. He just wanted someplace he could get some sleep, someplace away from the blaring voice of an aerobics instructor shouting directions from a boom box.

  “By the way, premier, when is Mikhail going to return?”

  “He should have been back last week. He wired me and stated that something came up in Hawaii that needed some urgent attention. He advised he would be back as soon as possible.”

  “You trust him?”

  “Do I have a choice, Mister Sergotoff? If Russia and I are to be saved, he is the one to save us.” Sergotoff’s almost sadistic smile told Alexi that the Foreign Minister knew just what kind of grasp he had on the nation’s leader, a mere figurehead.

  Having been back in Los Angeles for three days, Allison was surprised not to find Mikhail waiting for her when she returned. When she called him in Maui, he told her that he was hung up on a problem, something that had to do with returning to Russia. When she saw the door open and Mikhail standing there, she wasted no time racing toward him so that she could be held in his arms.

  “Did you straighten things out with your mother?”

  “Yes, Mikhail. She understood.”

  “Did you tell her that we don’t know how long we might be there?”

  “Yes, but I never thought to ask you. You have no idea?”

  “None. When was the last time I jump-started a country? It’s not as if I’m Alan Greenspan, I say one word and the stock market drops a hundred points.”

  “Did you take care of what you had to?”

  “Yeah, I finally shot a seventy-nine.” Allison drew away from her lover, almost feeling betrayed. While Mikhail never said that he was staying in Hawaii for business, he did say it had something to do with Russia. She thought it was safe to assume that playing golf had nothing to do with Russia. This was an explanation she just had to hear.

  “You told me you were staying in Hawaii because it had something to do with Russia. What does playing golf have to do with Russia?”

  “Simple. I don’t know if Russia has any golf courses. I figured that they don’t so I promised myself I wasn’t going back there until I broke eighty. Who knew when the next time would be for me to break eighty?”

  “I’ll give you break,” chuckled Allison, her pleasant laughter reassuring Mikhail that her words were in jest. He knew that as a law student she always feared video cameras. He had tried on many occasions to tell her that in Los Angeles that meant nothing. The people there had no idea what they were seeing. Talk about a city being declared a Rorschach test.

  “So what happened between you and your mother? What did she have to say to you?”

  “She wished us well and hoped to see our faces on the first paper ruble.”

  “That’s one of the first things that has to go, the ruble.”

  “Why?”

  “Nobody believes in them. It’s psychological. We have to change the name of the currency.”

  “You know, I never thought about that.”

  “So what else?”

  “She bought me lots of new clothing.”

  “Oh great, Allison, we’re going there to work with poor people dressed in Armani and Georgio.”

  “Wrong, old seven handicapper. I got lots of sweaters, denim shirts and denim jeans. Real working class. We’ll just call it the Silicon Valley look.”

  “We’re ready.” Mikhail hugged his girlfriend and lifted her into his arms. Carrying her into the bedroom, he closed the door, as he and Allison were about to enter another dimension of their lives.

  CHAPTER 6

  REDUCED FIVE-YEAR PLAN

  The conference room at the state building found the same people in it as had been there for the last economic summit with Mikhail with one addition, Allison. She found it strange that she felt so comfortable amongst all these men in a different country. She had to believe that it was Mikhail and Alexi that made her believe in herself, that gave her reassurance.

  Mikhail, seated at the head of the table, a number of documents and folders in front of him as did the others, rose. Looking around at his audience, he knew that he had to size it up again. He knew that since the last meeting, some put a grain of salt into what he was saying; others just wanted to send him to the salt mines.

  “To began with, gentlemen, this is Allison Romanoff, my girlfriend and assistant. She’ll be helping me.”

  Suddenly as all the eyes in the room focused on her, she did not quite feel as comfortable as she had just moments before. It was not as if she felt these men were undressing her with their eyes, it was more that they were trying to encase her in ice. She turned and made eye contact with both Mikhail and Alexi and again felt a little more at ease.

  “She’ll be helping me and she has already assisted me in developing a game plan. Point one is that Russia needs money. The only way to get it is through foreign
investment.”

  “And who would want to invest here?”

  “Well the first thing I plan to do is apply to the World Bank for a loan so that we can build a resort city and bring in foreign money.”

  “Foreign money?” snapped Yalantov, only to be followed by “Build a city from scratch?” from Medansky.

  “Yes and yes. In America they built Las Vegas from scratch in Nevada. Most of their business came from outside the state. I plan to do the same thing here.”

  “Where?” came a voice that Mikhail had failed to attach to a face. He knew soon that he would recognize each of these men by their voice.

  “On the Caspian Sea near the Volga River or near the Sea of Azov.” As Mikhail answered the question, Allison walked over to a pull down map of the area that hung above a blackboard in the room. All eyes turned toward her as she had her finger pointed toward a specific area.

  “That is in the middle of nowhere,” lamented Yalantov, whose voice was almost panicky. Yalantov had high hopes for Mikhail’s plan when they entered the conference room that afternoon, but was now acting like a nervous investor. He wanted to be one of those getting in on the ground floor but now he was starting to feel as if this investment had a basement.

  “So was Las Vegas. Made a bundle. I figure with the warm climate we could draw people from all over Europe who are searching for a little R and R.”

  “What is R and R?” asked Medansky of the KGB, always worried about things like that. Maybe it was a code of sorts he thought.

  “Rest and relaxation.” Medansky sat back in his chair, a small smile of relief emanating with the fact that he was not supporting some subversive activity. Mikhail knew what Medansky was thinking and just could not wait until they had a major hotel built with a showroom. This guy had no idea about how to use the word subversive until he met either Guns and Roses or Dennis Rodman. Those would be the first acts he would try to book.

  “Could we start a market economy with people having a good time?” inquired Potemkin.

  “We’re certainly going to try. We need to get people to spend their money so that it circulates. That’s what makes a market economy run.”

  “But shouldn’t we go toward manufacturing things?” asked Sergotoff.

  “Point two,” responded Mikhail.

  “Russia has an enormous amount of untapped natural resources that we could use for trade,” interjected Allison on cue. “We plan on selling some of the oil to foreign companies in exchange for them to dig wells and build pipelines.”

  “That is ridiculous! We will never get the fair market value of the oil in exchange. They will...” Sergotoff, whose neck was beet red, was speechless.

  “Rip us off,” were the words that Mikhail used to complete the sentence.

  “Yes, exactly! Russia will not be ripped off.”

  “Serge, we’re not dealing from strength. This country went almost bankrupt from building up its military and not investing in the people. They’re the ones that live here.”

  “You have come here to exploit us!”

  “Hey chill out, Serge.” Thinking about what he had just said, Mikhail figured that the phrase “chill out” had to have been coined in Russia.

  “We will not allow you to make deals that are to profit from mother Russia. This can’t be allowed!”

  “Hey, no problem. Last time I played golf I broke eighty. Hell, if we move quick enough, Allison, we could get a tee time for Thursday.”

  “What is this tee time you talk of?” questioned Medansky, who practiced a little trick that Castro taught him some time back. While staring right at Mikhail, the KGB head used his tongue to flip his cigar stub up several inches where it went end over end where he again caught it with his tongue. Mikhail was amused.

  “Listen, Medansky, if I open a hotel in Hawaii would you like to be my lounge act?” The tone of Mikhail’s voice and the smug smile he wore while saying it made Medansky understand that he was being mocked. He hated not being able to use his authority to make Mikhail’s life difficult but his hands were tied. It was usually him and his colleagues that were tying people’s hands.

  “Russia needs you, Mikhail. Please stay.” His uncle’s quiet way and steady voice drew his attention. Alexi never tried to intimidate him and he appreciated that, but he sensed his uncle’s need for help. He also knew that his uncle was in deep trouble.

  “I must do it my way, Alexi. We need money quickly.” The young visitor to his homeland looked around the conference table and suddenly his eyes were in a ping-pong match with Serge Sergotoff. The other members looked first at Sergotoff, then at Mikhail, wanting to see who made the first move. The Foreign Minister, after several moments of this, began to look at the faces of those he believed he controlled.

  “If we are moving toward free enterprise, then does that not mean we are to maintain the democratic principles of which Russia has moved?”

  “Of course. Free enterprise is nothing more than the best way to micromanage an economy with the greatest possible reward.” Sergotoff, a man not familiar with the works of John Keynes and Adam Smith, was perplexed. Mikhail could tell just by looking at the Foreign Minister’s expression and knew that Harvard Business School was out of the question.

  “Then we should put it to a vote, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many are willing to take a chance and allow Mikhail and Allison a free hand...”

  “Yeah, well maybe that’s why Russia’s in the bind she’s in. The more people you have to choose from, the more chance you have of getting competent people with skills to do the job.” Mikhail’s words seemed to fly right past Medansky.

  Burning on the inside with a tinge of the red from the heat starting to show itself in Medansky’s complexion, he folded his arms and closed his eyes. Mikhail started looking at the intelligence officer as if he were a genie. He had a feeling that with what he had seen of the man’s intelligence, if Medansky was counting to hold his temper, he was counting to ten, not one hundred. If Medansky were making a wish, it certainly was for Mikhail and Allison to disappear, something he used to have the power to do, make people disappear.

  “All those in favor of allowing Mikhail and Allison to have authority to bring in foreign investment, raise your hand.” Yalantov raised his quickly because he wanted to make Russia another land of opportunity. Breaking the ice, Mikhail and Allison received the referendum they wanted by a six to two margin. The two nays they received were from Sergotoff and Medansky, no votes that Alexi expected.

  “You will sell this country down the river!” exclaimed Sergotoff in defiance of the vote.

  “Well Serge, you’ll have to wait for summer if you’re talking about the Volga. Last time I looked, it was frozen solid.” Mikhail enjoyed pushing Sergotoff’s buttons because he was so easy. The former spy’s instincts told him that the Foreign Minister was the one behind Alexi being set up so he figured that maybe he would have a little fun with him. Sergotoff did not like the fact that Mikhail was playing with him and right now he had no avenue of vengeance, something he thrived on.

  Mikhail’s glance at Allison told her that she had center stage. While knowing that Sergotoff and Medansky were hostile toward her gender in a position of authority, she felt that the others were more open.

  “We have already been in contact with several European companies who have expressed interest in some of our projects. The first project that Mikhail has told you about would be a resort. Well we have plans for a five thousand-room hotel complete with several waterfalls, which empty into one of three spacious pools. The hotel will have four restaurants, each offering the cuisine of a different foreign country of Western Europe. We also plan to build a golf course and offer tennis.”

  Mikhail was proud of his girlfriend. While he knew that she had a Bachelor of Arts degree in communications, he failed to realize just how well she could handle a live audience. Watching everyone paying close attention to everything she said, he knew that she had gotten throu
gh.

  Alexi found his mind adrift as the plans for the hotel were unraveled, revealing the layout. Finally snapping out of it, the premier took a look at the hopes of Mikhail. It reminded him of the place he stayed at on Maui. Thinking about it, he started to understand what Mikhail had told him about repeat business, about keeping the customer satisfied.

  “It is but one hotel, several thousand people. You can’t make an economy out of so little.”

  “You’re right, Potemkin. Very right, but it’s a start. This country has enormous wealth in its natural resources. Let’s get it to market.”

  “We do not have transportation.”

  “Ah, but you will. Allison and I think we can get it cheap. We also plan to start talks with major companies around the world to try to barter with them. We’ll lose at the beginning but we must get the money to get started.” While the young executive’s words were nothing more than a repeat of an earlier statement, this time everyone was prepared to accept it as the inevitable. It was something they were going to have to live with.

  Mikhail had many of the same qualities that his uncle Alexi had and he knew his limits. Being a doer, and having seen the poverty first hand, getting started as soon as possible was a must. Realizing that he had been away from Moscow for some time, he knew that he would need help from someone like himself within Moscow. While being deep seeded in poverty, Russia still had at least a few successful businesspersons. Mikhail knew that under the conditions his homeland was functioning, these people dealt on both sides of the law, something he needed access to.

  Drawing on his memory, Mikhail recalled an article he had read in U.S. News and World Report that dealt with some of the success stories that occurred in Russia after the fall of communism. Resorting to his favorite pastime, cellular conversation, he found his friend Brian Russo’s voice answering in typical style, “U.S. News and World Report, Brian Russo here to tell you all the news you need to know.”