Moscow Machination (10 page)

“Kid,
trust me. It was the previous administration’s stand on the DPRK. Not mine.”

The Leader
exhaled deeply before countering the Chinese Premier.

“
Previous
Administration
? Whats gotten into you tea baggers?
Previous
administration
? Who talks shit like that…? Of the top of my head only one
country…”

“I know, I
know things are changing in China. I just want to thank you for what you guys
did.”

“Ya
whatever man. I just can’t believe how your Hu Gong, talked you into this tiger
abduction bs. Even a sophomore at Pyongyang State’s Political Sciences would
have told you to stay the fuck away from that tiger.”

“Well we
have our rare lapses. But he is gone now, which means…”

“Which
means you can put your own guy, that perv, as the new chief of MSS.”

“Hey, Li
is not a perv. He just wanted to make sure my wife wasn’t cheating.”

The Leader
had the upper hand today, “Like I said to that Russian moron, Bears-Packers
kick off is in like three minutes. So… make this quick.”

“Well, as
a gesture of goodwill, you are invited to our thanks giving party this year.
How does that sound kid?”

“Ok, I am
listening.”

“Also, we
know you love fireworks. We can’t lift the fireworks embargo, but how about a
visit to Beijing or Shanghai, for our Chinese New year celebrations?”

“Hong
Kong.”

“Kid you
are busting my balls here. Shanghai and Beijing are way better than that cesspit.
Trust me. Plus the whole ‘free media’ will be there.”

“Alright,
I will think about it. Rodgers is lining up. I don’t plan to miss a single snap
this season.”

“Well kid.
Take care. No more stunts without telling us. That’s all we ask for.”

“The
Leader can’t promise anything. Bye.”

By the end
of the first quarter the Pack were up 10-0. No surprises there. As long as they
had Rodgers, the Pack always had a chance. No personnel, coaching or front
office shenanigans was going to change that. Sort of like himself and the DPRK.
As long as North Korea had him as their Leader, they were always in the game.

Just as
the Leader was ready to dive into his mock KFC bucket, he was informed that the
Russian Foreign Minister wanted to chat.

The Leader
grabbed the receiver and barked, “What is this asshole day? Sergey you dried up
piece of shit, how dare you call me? Where are your protocols mofo? I am not
talking to anyone lower than Anna Fucking Petrova herself.”

“…nobody
talks to Sergey like that….”

The Leader
hung up the phone. He had no intention of missing a bear beat down.

Kremlin, Moscow

Anna
Petrova felt invincible that morning. Walking the Kremlin’s power corridors,
she finally felt ‘in place’. In the past year she had been jerked around by one
dumb crisis after another, plus the Russian bureaucracy hadn’t helped either. Not
anymore. Not anymore.

Everything
looked different in
Project Catie’s
glow. Her guards Mika, Marat and
Vlad had become more respectful towards her. No kid gloves.

To execute
Project Catie
and revive the Russian glory, she needed a few people. Not
too many to fuck it up, but just a couple maybe. Sergey Luzkhov, had been rising
through the Foreign Ministry, ever since 90s. Being the second most powerful
dude in her administration, he had helped her navigate Crimea and the ensuing sanctions. 
Above all he seemed to be a Patriot who believed in Russia.

Sergey
Luzkhov, the bespectacled diplomat and patriot stood up as the President walked
into his office. He seemed flustered.

“Morning
Sergey. Everything alright?”

“Dimitroff
our man in Pyongyang has failed. I tried to do damage control and I ended up
making things worse. My responsibility.” Luzkhov put up his hands defensively.

“What did
you do?” asked Anna apprehensively. Was Sergey cracking?

“Well I
broke protocol and spoke to that punk directly and he got pissed. Now he will
only talk to you.”

Anna was slightly
relieved.
Project Catie
was going to hurt a ton of countries, but The
DPRK probably wasn’t one. The dumb brat could come in handy later. She didn’t
have much to lose.

“Ok, fine.
Get him on the phone right now. What does he want in return for the tiger?”

“God knows
what that bum wants. Probably S-400 SAMs. Or aid… but most likely cocaine.”

“Don’t
overthink it Sergey.”

“Ok Ma’am,
but just make that you address him as Dear Leader or Leader.”

Five
minutes later President Petrova was on the phone with the Great Leader.

Unlike the
prickly conversation with Sergey, the Leader was quite jovial. The Packers had
delivered the bear beat down.

“Hello
Madam President. How are you?”

“He is
probably high,” whispered Sergey.

“Leader,
thank you for taking my call. You can call me Anna.”

“Oh ok,
Anna… Anna I am huge fan of you and your work and your values. I like the new
direction Russian direction.”

“You are
very kind Dear Leader. I just wanted to thank you and your forces for saving our
Russian treasure Zoya and staving off a nuclear strike.”

“Oh, did
Sergey put you to this. We roughhouse all the time Anna. Don’t worry about it.”

“That is a
relief Leader. Thank you.”

“Before
you say anything, I am putting Zoya on the next deluxe train to Moscow.”

“But…”

“No buts
Anna… I insist.”

“Don’t you
want anything in return… Leader?”

“Did old
Sergey tell you I demand things? Did he say I cry like a baby?”

“That
devious shit,” seethed Sergey quietly.

“Uhh. No
Dear Leader, Sergey has been all praise. In fact he invites you to his hometown
Kirov. He wants to showcase its rich history.”

“Thanks. Tell
him, I will think about it.”

“Good. Is
there anything else, you would like to discuss Dear Leader?”

“Hmmm… let’s
see… there is this one little thing…”

“Aha, I
knew it. Here comes the dagger Madam,” frothed Sergey unable to contain his
glee.

“I am all
ears Dear Leader.”

“Anna,
your predecessor’s administration made a deal with us. Your homeboy Sergey who
is hiding behind your sweet behind is well aware of this.”

“I am not
fucking hiding behind anyone’s back,” replied Sergey in a tightly contorted tone.

“Sergey
Luzkhov in the flesh? Well Madam… Anna the deal, was we send you some sweet ores...
iron ores, in exchange of something we need.”

“Which is?”

“Fish.”

“Fish?”

“Yes my
people love some good fish and chips.”

“We have
been sending the fish… by the train load,” interjected Sergey.

“No. You
have been sending us rotten fish you rotten piece of shit,” remarked the
Leader.

“Rotten?” asked
Anna. Sergey was silent.

“My people
have been eating the same rotten fish that Zoya ate for months. The same rotten
fish that made Zoya sick. The same rotten fish that made Zoya salivate at the
Chinese snipers. The same rotten fish that made Zoya puke and faint.”

“Jesus
that’s awful. Sergey did you know about the rotten fish?” asked Petrova.

Sergey seemed
lost. Eventually he shrugged, “I delegated it to our Vladivostok office.”

“No shit,”
yelled the Leader, “that clown is fishy as fuck Anna.”

“Dear
Leader, I am terribly sorry. I am sorry for what we have put you and your
people through.”

“Wow!
Anna, Anna, Anna…did you just say sorry? Now there’s a word I have never heard
a Russian utter!”

“We will
fix this right away Dear Leader. I will ensure that your people, the North
Korean people… get the best fish from our Kamchatka fisheries. You have my word
on this Great Leader.”

“Anna I
could kiss you right now. If Sergey wasn’t listening in, I swear, I would.”

“Please
Dear Leader. Nothing pains me more than sending rotten food. Again I’m truly
sorry.”

“Man, I
knew you were different,” proclaimed the Leader of North Korea before hanging
up.

Anna
Petrova sighed and turned to the defiant yet shaky Luzkhov.

“Sergey, I
don’t know what you did in the past. I sure as hell don’t care how you delegate
stuff. From now fucking on, you better pull it together.”

“Madam I
can explain…”

“Rotten
fish? Your rotten fish almost got my tiger killed, then ended up killing the
head of Chinese intelligence, took out the Chinese Premier and now this… starving
innocent people... that’s fucking genocide man.”

“Madam… but
you started this. You authorized the hit on the Chinese train.”

“On your FUCKING
advice. You vouched for it. Plus this has nothing whatsoever to do with the
Chinese hit.”

“Oh come
on… Anna…”

“Don’t
‘Come on Anna’ me. You know what… you don’t seem to be getting the situation.
Here we have a sweet, misunderstood boy, whom you made me believe was a drug
addled maniac.”

“Anna, the
whole world knows he is bat shit eating crazy…”

“Hey even
I was accused of being a crazy cat lady…”

“Exactly.
And due to my spin, you are now associated with a tiger…”

The
President had heard enough. Anna Petrova picked up an intercom, “Send in
someone from my security detail. Wait, send in as many as possible.”

“Whats
going on Anna?” asked Sergey Luzkhov the Foreign Minister.

“Well I
thought up a fun adventure for you Sergey.”

The three
guards, hearing the rising argument, instinctively encircled the Foreign
Minister.

“Haha. So…
what are you going to do… send me to Lubyanka? This isn’t 1936 anymore… don’t
you dare let these gorillas touch me… hey… get off me… hey.”

“Lubyanka
is still in Moscow and I don’t trust the FSB.”

“So? Hey…
hands off me.”

“You are
off to Vorkuta. I want you to oversee the mining operations for a couple of
months. Consider this your last warning. Guards.”

The three
guards secured the former Minister and dragged him away.

“The Guuulag?”
screamed Sergey as he was taken away, “Nooo.”

Washington DC

Sarah McAllister,
the Under Secretary of State stared at the doofus from Ukraine. This was his
second trip to DC in the past three weeks. His laundry list of needs included more
weapons, more ammo, more training, more yoghurt, more antacid, more teargas and
more riot gear. The only stuff missing were the requests for clothing from
Macy’s and perfumes for his mistresses.

Viktor rocked
a bald egghead, wimpy spectacles and some never shaven smooth cheeks. With his
incredible lack of masculinity he was probably the last unsullied man in Ukraine.
Hmm… he did seem cute from that perspective.

Sarah shook
herself out of the daze.

“Ms.
Sarah, I know you have given hope and change to my Ukrainian people. But we
need more.”

“Look man…
Viktor. Our aim was to catch the Russians offside. And we succeeded, with your
help. That’s it.”

“But Ms.
Sarah, that wasn’t our deal…”

“What was
our deal Viktor? We made you the Prime Minister. What more could you want?”

“I am the
President.”

“Oh. Ok
sure. We promised you the Presidency and here you are, a year later in that…
strong Presidential throne.”

“But what
about our economy? Investment in our industries… you promised all that…”

“Viktor let’s
face it, the Ukraine is a basket case. You guys have the worst economy in
Europe. Worse than Greece, worse than Portugal. Even if we grouped you with
Africa and made a new MEA-U, you won’t crack fifty. I bet you guys tie with Chad.”

“This is
unacceptable to me and the Ukrainian people who voted for me...” Viktor tried
fury.

“Please
Viktor, stop the act. Or are you that retarded. Even you can’t believe that 78%
of the electorate voted for your egghead.”

“Egghead...?
What do you mean 78%?”

“Jesus. You
are one seriously dumb Prime Minister.”

“President.
I am the President…”

“Look here
Viktor, you are a puppet, a device, a folly, a yokel, a village idiot and a
tool… a tool that we used to advance our agenda… the United States’ agenda. That’s
all. I mean we can give you a few used F-16s and some old tanks but… that’s it…”

“But our air
force flies Migs….”

“Exactly
and you use T-90 tanks, which you freakin co-designed with the Russians.”

“Yes, but…”

“And you
can’t integrate our Aegis or Patriot defense systems….”

“Yes but…”

“And your rail tracks aren’t standard gauge.”
“They are Soviet standard gauge…”

“Which means European trains can’t run into Kiev with
toilet paper.”

“But we
can’t re-lay 60,000 miles of tracks just for toilet paper Ms. Sarah. That’s
insane.”

“And you
have made my point. You have been too close to Russia for far too long man. I
mean we can only do so much. As long as we can rankle and irritate Russia, my
job here at the State Department is done. Finished.”

The
President of Ukraine remained silent for a while before saying, “You are saying
I don’t matter? The people of Ukraine don’t matter?”

“Oh no!
You matter to us very much… like say Afghanistan, Kosovo or Mexico or even…”

“But those
are failed states.”

The
Undersecretary chided the Ukrainian, “Now Viktor, we don’t use that term
anymore. It’s considered offensive.”

“But… but
your President said so himself at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner.”

“Jesus
man, the Kardashians were there. He would have sent the Queen of England to G-Bay
for a glance at Kim’s dimples. That’s not our foreign policy man… unless of
course Kim wants it to be, but…”

“But isn’t
comedy supposed to be the truest form of truth…?”

“Man your idioms
are all fucked up. You are misinterpreting a lot of things. I suggest you get a
better interpreter Viktor, like someone who isn’t using you to get to New York
and get on the runway.”

“FYI, I went
to Cambridge. My English is just fine. Also Elena isn’t my interpreter, she is
my body woman.”

Sarah
McAllister cringed, “Yikes, whatever man. I am running late for my next meeting.
I got to meet someone from Langley. Just… just try to do some reforms or
something ok. People like that kind of message.”

“But what
about Crimea? What about Donetsk? Mariupol? And why the fuck is that Georgian psycho
running our Odessa?”

Sarah held
up her arms defensively. “First of all Crimea was always Russian. It was
transferred by Khrushchev to the Ukraine, when the Ukraine was still part of
the USSR. In fact back in 91, when you guys came out of the closet, you should
have voluntarily retuned that wasteland surrounding Chernobyl to Russia. See, if
you had returned Chernobyl you could have kept Crimea.”

“But…”

“It’s like
transferring Nashville to Kentucky or something. It’s all cool because
Nashville is still in the USA.”

“But that
doesn’t even make sense.”

Sarah
McAllister was done with the Ukrainian dummy. The nerd was pathetic. “Yes it does.
As for our boy from Tbilisi, I don’t know why, but he truly believes in selling
the idea of democracy.’

“But
that’s not actual democracy.”

“And that’s
why we like him. And the POTUS loves him… loves him.”

“But…”

“That will
be all Prime Minister.”

Washington DC

“Jim, I
think Viktor is about to jump the shark,” said Sarah McAllister as she settled
back into her chair.

“Whatever…
we got a platoon of bums ready to sub in,” assured Jim Borland the CIA’s
in-house Clowning Specialist.

“Ok, but
is that Georgian really necessary? He seems to be getting on Viktor’s nerves.”

“Nobody irritates
Russia more than Saakashvili. And irritating Russia always wins out over placating
Ukraine. Our stance is quite clear.”

“Yeah,”
began Sarah pulling up a new file, “rankling the bear is a noble endeavor, I
agree. But the economics are beginning to outweigh this… this thing with Russia.”

Jim
shrugged. Economics – what did it even mean, “Shoot.”

“In the
past 5 years, the global economy has lost Egypt, Syria, Libya, Tunisia, Iraq,
Lebanon, Greece and now Ukraine.”

“Yeah, but…
that’s a very small price,” protested Jim as Sarah waved him off.

“Our allied
corporations would beg to differ. Companies here as well as in Europe and Asia
are extremely concerned.”

“But the
losses are nullified by the sale of ammo and F-16s and choppers and what not.”

“Yeah, that’s
great for Boeing and Lockheed. But what about the little guys? Guys like Apple,
Samsung, BMW, IBM, and Starbucks… someone’s still got to buy the phones and sip
those lattes.”

Jim sipped
his strong morning brew as he pondered. “Ah, I see where this is going. We
carrot the shit out of India and stick it to China and Brazil. A bump of say 2%
for the Indian economy would probably erase all memories of Greece and Ukraine.
A 0.5% bump to the Chinese GDP should wipe out all of our Middle Eastern
losses. A 1% rise in the Brazilian output should put us in the clear.”

“No Jim,
it’s gotten to a point where we can no longer redistribute GDP.”

“Why the
hell not?”

“Russia.”

“Russia…?
Please. Economically they are the equivalent of Pakistan or Puerto Rico on a
good day. They aren’t even a trillion dollar economy.”

“Not so
simple. Russia has natural resources and now they are turning the heat on Exxon
and Shell and BP…. And because of Russia we have lost the Stans and Belarus as
well. Granted they aren’t big, but if Russia goes through with their Eurasian
Customs Union we are screwed.”

Still
unconvinced Jim asked, “Ok. So what do you propose?”

“We ran
the numbers. We are going to need more than the B ICS.”

“Well I
got Papua New Guinea, New Caledonia, Fiji, Algeria, Laos, Western Sahara and
Burma… Burma has infinite potential…”

Sarah shook
her head and smiled coyly. “We thought of something else. Something way better.”

Something
went off inside Jim, “You can’t be serious…”

“We are
lifting sanctions on Cuba.”

“Oh no…”

“And
Iran.”

“Oh Nooo….”

“Maybe
even Pyongyang.”