June 30th 2024
Lenin
The party entered the dragon’s lair. The Russian czar was sitting on a wooden chair behind a decently decorated table. The room was surrounded with works of Italian masters dating back to the early XVII century. The art dealer recognised a few with a quick view, but did not dare to express his knowledge. The major threat to the Western democracies smiled in his direction. “How would you appreciate my collection? Would you like to get closer?”. He spoke wonderful English, unaffected by American words and accent. After all he had been a KGB colonel and he should have received proper training. The young Briton was surprised and felt suddenly cold. The whole party was probably facing a higher risk than they had expected, but he should not give up right now. Many men in the Red Hand did not surrender even when they knew quite well that they would have been executed by the IRA squads or would have faced social discrimination for the remainder of their life. “It is difficult to say, I mainly traded with contemporary artists and never had the privilege to deal with such valuable oeuvres”.
He decided to concede that he was not an experienced concierge and had begun with the job only a few weeks before. After all, there was nothing to be hidden from modern Soviet intelligence. Despite corruption, they maintained a high level of efficiency and were perhaps still stronger than the NSA or the CIA. They ahd after all the advantage to be led by an expert of the field and not to be subject to ethical constraints. An asset on which most criminal organisations could rely. “I am honoured to meet you. You have been daring. I hope this elegant lady has studied her part well. I would be disappointed if my dinner would be ruined by the wrong choice of wines”. The former business manager recollected the scene of an old Bond movie, where 007 understood that he was facing two professional killers because one of them committed a fatal mistake with his recommendation. The idea of that couple of assassins, portrayed in a clownish way, made her in a good disposition. Her mouth naturally smiled. Putin carefully observed her facial expression, which was interpreted as a disconnection from the circumstances. The woman was hardly realising where she was lingering around, but she was unconsciously scared enough to avoid any reality check. She thought that she could have behaved more properly if she kept on dreaming about outdated scripts where a Wester spy could always rely on his good luck. “I see that you are reading a book, and not on your iPhone. I appreciate cultivated people, even more conservative ones. Would you mind to let me give a look in that?”, added the Russian President. The business consultant could not hide her reluctancy, but she could not refuse the order either. She knew that it had been a faux pas, to bring Heidi's volume with her.
“Let’s look under the cover”, the nephew of the apparatchik's cook did not cease to make his monologue appear like a brilliant conversation. His public did not move and was more and more vigilant. “It is a beautiful, old edition: I am not an expert, but I suppose you can confirm that it is authentic”. The Russian leader did not address the young lady anymore, but was staring into the eyes of the father of the October Revolution. It was Fate, as if the Greek and Roman deities were still in power, who had organised that unique meeting. “After all, this signature and this calligraphy is yours”, concluded Valdimir Putin scrutinising Vladimir Ilijc Lenin as if he were interrogating a disgraced comrade within the walls of the Lubljanka. “You know that if I only damage this page, you will be back to being a mummy. I can even allocate some budget to restore your temple. It can boost the morale of my accollites”. It was always the modern czar to speak. The old Soviet leader did not show any reaction, revealing the political genius, although an evil one, who allowed him to deceive all his opponents, around one hundred years before. “It is for you a unique chance to enjoy the full taste of your grandfather’s recipes. I bet that you would not ruin such an enchanting atmosphere”, replied Lenin with a silken voice. He was like a witch cat, quietly facing a dragon. The Russian President enjoyed the moment, he was delighted by such a show of character. Vladimir Putin realised that he had still to improve some of his own soft skills.
