The Devil's Handshake (26 page)

“
Yes Jessica,” he answered
coolly. “I do hate the term because the media always tags each
successful businessmen with it whether he is working in or is
Russian. An Oligarch is driven by the ability to set cash above
everything else! I have never done that. So, to answer your
question, no, I am not Oligarch. But I am pleased and proud to be
part of the rebuilding of Russia after a difficult transition in
its history,” he added attempting to close down the
question.

“
Do you have links to
organized crime?” she probed.

“
No, I don’t. I have always
had complete confidence in the laws and the officers who uphold
them in all the countries my group over the years has invested in
and continue do so,” he answered sincerely, despite having done the
exact opposite as working with and around organized crime in Russia
was an unfortunate but a necessary evil.

Again Jessica probed, but having been
signaled by his friend by way of a message that U.S. would start
their campaign to paint either him or the leadership of Adwalland
as criminals, thereby potentially derailing the Russian presence,
Thomas offered his answers in a cool and understated manner.

Under any other circumstances, he would never
dream of doing an interview and indeed until this one he had never
done so in the past. He didn’t even have a Facebook or Twitter
account, despite the many efforts of Victoria to make him get
one.

When the Mayor made clear his intentions and
what he expected from him, Thomas’s instincts had told him at some
point he was going to be receiving a barrage of questions of this
sort as he was the lead investor and broker.

His instinct had also led him to believe
tensions between the U.S. and Russia were almost certainly going to
start to boil in the coming months.

So using the logic to get the skeletons out
of the way and on record at a time of his choosing instead of being
ambushed down the road, Thomas summoned his media information
officer to help prepare him.

It was a decision that had nearly given the
poor man a heart attack after initially thinking Thomas was
joking.

“
Fucking hell, Thomas,
you’re bloody nuts!” James Weston had said in typical blunt
fashion, reflecting his Northern England roots.

“
Jim, just get me ready,” he
had said, calming his long-standing combustible friend who lived on
too much coffee and cigarettes.

So as Jessica pressed him again, this time
Thomas continued in the cool and focused manner just as James had
taught him earlier in the day during their training session and
answered.

“
I think I answered that
question,” he stated, followed by a deadly pause designed to fill
the air with silence so to push her to move on.

With her screaming producer’s orders in her
ear, sensing that he wasn’t going to answer, Jessica did just that
by moving on to his education, military career before she came to a
question of how he saw Russia’s future.

Her questions were presented as her views but
obvious to the informed who were watching and not just Thomas, had
come from a State Department briefing, signaled by her use of a
statement by former Secretary of State Hilary Clinton on the
attempt of Russia to “Re-Soviet” around the world as the catalysis,
Thomas responded.

“
In all my years doing
business in Russia and the neighboring states that surround her, I
have always mixed with perfectly happily ordinary people,” he said.
“As I said earlier, I am proud to be part of the rebuilding of
Russia after a difficult transition. The atmosphere in these
countries is always totally different to the way it perceived by
your colleagues in media.

“
People go to work,
socialize in bars and restaurants, raise families and don’t keep
looking over their shoulder for the KGB at the door, so I disagree
strongly with Mrs. Clinton’s perception,” he said with conviction
in his voice, ignoring her question completely and giving a party
line answer he knew would please the Mayor.

“
How do you see Putin?”
Jessica asked suddenly as if out of blue, which it was anything
but.

“
Here, we go!” Thomas
thought. He took a big breath.

“
I see him as a strong
leader for whom the majority of Russians that make up the general
populace respond to, whether the world likes it or not,” he
answered neutrally.

“
Is he your Krysha, meaning
Roof, to use a Russian word?” she fenced.

The fact she used such a word in her subject
confirmed to him that she had, as Steve suggested, received a full
briefing from the State Department by the mentioning an essential
part of Russian business in the 1990s when the country was weak and
more corruptible than they were today as to the way to try and link
him to the Mayor.

“
Yes, I do know the
President, but I wouldn’t say I am his ‘Buddy,’ Jessica. And no, he
is most definitely not my ‘Protector.’” He took a moment to gather
his thoughts just like James taught him he continued on.

“
It’s the other way around.
The President expects all of Russia’s business leaders to help and
support the country interests by becoming National Champions,” he
answered seriously and deliberately to give her an opening to bring
up Adwalland and so send a message to State Department that he
could be used as an instrument in any back channel if needed while
hoping they were smart enough to see it. She didn’t
disappoint.

“
So your investment in
Adwalland is an example of that expectation in action?” she asked
as if on cue.

“
Yes, I was asked to lead a
delegation of Russian companies due to my close relationship with
the President of Adwalland, who I think by the way, is doing a
magnificent job with his tribal leaders in rebuilding his young
country…But you have to remember that we are British company at
heart and will always be so,” he answered carefully to lay out his
position as the Honest Broker by publically espousing that, despite
his many years in Russia as an investor, he was British.

“
So the fact that you
assisted in the negotiations between the two Presidents, in the
agreement, to put a navy base one hundred and twenty-five miles
away from the American base in Djibouti is secondary,” she said,
delivering the statement as promised to her source at the State
Department.

“
What’s your point, Jessica?
I don’t understand your question?” he asked to give her more fuel
for the fire.

“
That you’re part of the new
Russian Policy deliberately challenging the United States of
America in all theatres,” she said, taking the bait with piercing
blue eyes.

“
Well, I don’t speak for the
Russian Government; you will need to ask the Russian Foreign
Ministry that question. I will counter that if the Russian
Government is prepared to support its and their partner’s
organizations with a ten billion dollar investment into the
infrastructure needed to assist in the extraction of the world’s
much needed natural resources then that State,” he paused for
effect, “is entitled to safeguard their interests as they see fit.
So yes, if the governments of Russia or Adwalland believe a navy
base will help in a traditionally hard and difficult region then I
welcome it as a businessman… That said, I think it would be
arrogant or naive to believe the TLH Group is part of a deliberate
challenge between two great countries especially when all we are
trying to do is help in the rebuilding of a young war-torn
country,” he answered with a smile, implying it was.

The power-keg was now well and truly lit.

While Jessica Austin was finishing her
exclusive interview with Litchfield with a move back to puff
pieces, Joe McGiven turned down the television set in his private
office within his Georgetown townhouse, picked up the phone and
dialed David Young who was at a dinner party his wife was
hosting.

Having checked to see who was calling him he
excused himself from the table, immediately walked into his office,
and closed the door. On the fourth ring, Young answered.

“
Mr. McGiven,” he
said.

“
Director Young,” The Chief
of Staff said. The greetings out of way, McGiven started with the
reason for his call.

“
Director, I don’t suppose
you just saw the Litchfield interview on MGN?” he asked.

“
No, Sir I did not,” Young
answered before continuing. “However, I am aware his communication
teams have been busy briefing journalists all over the world on the
positives of the Russian commitment in Adwalland.”

“
Well, it’s been over a
couple of months since the Secretary has had a full update,”
McGiven responded using his boss as a stick, having just been put
in his place by the Director.

“
Yes I’m aware that is the
case, Mr. McGiven,” Young countered dismissively.

“
I will have my office
arrange a briefing for you if you feel the Secretary needs one,”
Young continued in measured tones knowing that his calls were
monitored despite the encryption software before ending the call,
annoyed that he had interrupted his dinner for something he could
have requested by secure email.

Interview completed, Thomas thanked Jessica
and with Mikhail left the studios of MGN in his Armored Mercedes
Benz S500.

Pulling out his phone, he rang Nara first in
London to see how she was.

“
You did very well, my
Thomas!” she said before he said anything referring to the
interview he had just given.

“
You saw it then, darling,”
he chuckled.

“
You put that little Jelep
in her place!” she responded with passion before launching into an
update on Victoria, who was still calling home once a day while she
got used to boarding school.

The update exhausted, Nara finished off the
call with a confirmation as to their table guests for the annual
TLH senior team dinner at the weekend at Farrow Hall, their country
retreat in Sussex.

Domestic obligations out of the way Thomas
then emailed Louise whose BlackBerry was never off and asked her to
ask Angus to invite Mrs. Elizabeth Field and a guest that he knew,
if she accepted, would be a fellow officer.

He also instructed to put her on his table,
as well as making sure that the new Russian Ambassador to Adwalland
and his wife were on it as well.

He had decided to invite Rebecca because she
had asked to see him so to provide with her an update on matters in
Adwalland.

It was something he hadn’t expected, so he
wondered if that meant the British was about to pull the plug with
respect to his formal request that the Prime Minister and Trade and
Industry secretary make some kind of formal statement of support
for the British companies investing in the country due to the
Americans increasing counter briefings.

With what he just said on television and not
to mention having put the ball into play with Steve over the last
month Thomas knew at some point that would almost certainly happen
and now it appeared it was.

He just needed to make sure that whatever
happened in the game between Russia and the U.S. with respect the
Naval Base, his interests were protected.

Reaching Aureole Charlie Palmer’s restaurant
on 135th and 42nd Street, Mikhail got out of the car first checked
the environment, then allowed Thomas to get out and enter the
restaurant. As he did so, he spotted the Black Cadillac SUV sitting
across the street.

“
I see we have a friend
Mikhail?” Thomas noted.

“
FBI,” Mikhail answered
earning a nod in return from Thomas over the fact that they were
keeping tabs on him as they walked into the restaurant
together.

Greeting the receptionist on the front desk
he asked if Ambassador Fielding had arrived at the restaurant.

“
Yes sir, he’s there
already, sitting at the table,” the pretty lady answered with a
smile before gesturing for him and Mikhail to follow
her.

Twice married, hard-nosed, no-nonsense Jack
Fielding was a career diplomat who previously had been a Special
Advisor to the President George Bush Junior on African Affairs, and
before that when the French ran the forward operating base a former
Ambassador to Djibouti and now ran his own strategic consulting
firm on business development.

James Weston had set up this meeting, on the
premise that “If you’re going to be taking fucking heat on the
Adwalland investment from our cousins then I suggest you get your
own voice within the floors of the houses,” he had said, making
reference to the lack of friends that TLH had in the congress and
senate.

Reaching the table he found James, tie undone
as usual, in his Saville Row uniform of a pinstripe grey suit,
while the ambassador wore a uniform that most New York businessmen
preferred of a regular Brooks Brothers dark blue suit though, in
his case, his tie was made up and because he was a former public
servant he had a little American flag pin on his lapel.

Getting up, James greeted him.

“
Fucking good effort,
Tommy!” he said instantly in his regular redneck boy-made-good way
in respect to his coolness under pressure during his interview with
Jessica. “The fucking phone has been going non-stop from the
business desks asking what you meant on the Russian Navy base
situation, though,” he said, half asking.

“
What have you been telling
them?” Thomas asked.