Reverie of an Oligarch-to-be
Flash Fiction
Why can’t I join their ranks? Who was Roman? What do the brothers Boris and Arkady have that I don’t? And Oleg, Alisher, and Gennady … that lot.
Those who did not use their friendship with Vladimir Vladimirovich had the ear of the top killers. For a price they can shoot, strangle, poison, with novichok or polonium someone who stands in your way to betterment. I have worked hard for my diploma, and do not intend to work in the chemical industry for peanuts. I’ve given myself three years, watch me!
People think that coltan only occurs in places like the Congo. Wrong! We’ve got massive deposits nearer home. And I know where. I ain’t saying, but I did extensive digging in Dagestan for my PhD, remember. Three other chaps are privy
to that truth.
My first step is to have them drink some polonium tea. And Vladimir, no, not VV, but Vladimir Petrovich, I can talk him into playing mother. He’s a dab hand at polonium tea with or without (novichok).
My plans are water-tight. I know exactly how to sell my idea to VV. I know how to convince him to get his FSB to organise a little sabotage in the Congo and Nigeria to put the mines out of action. and I know people who will give me seed money. Dagestan, here we come. I will earn my first million in two years, and then twelve the following. After that, this figure will double every year.
By the time I’ve made my first billion, I’d have been married four times. There’d be children with each of the wives. I’d own a fleet of cars, the most luxurious, the biggest yacht of them all, the Volga Princess. in your face Oleg! I’ll know how to spend my money, not like those nouveaux-riches kulaks who give parties and orgies on their yachts and think drinking Beluga vodka and quaffing Beluga caviar is the summum of luxury.
I’ll show them how to spend money. When I organise a holiday, for my family, ex-wives and children, I begin by buying the hotel. In Paris, it would be the Crillon. I’d give the sack to the personnel, and send hand-picked replacements from Russia, with instructions to reorganise the place according to my strict directions. The family would have the best fortnight of their lives. I then sack the Russian personnel, and sell the hotel at considerable loss_ who cares? We scramble on the Volga Princess and sail back to Mother Russia.
Can anybody beat that?
