The Devil's Playground

by Michael Reagan

spy-cum-diplomat in fluent English that any of Britain's famous boarding school would be proud of.

  An hour later Ruslan walked into the suite's lounge. The man who had introduced them to each other all those years ago had once described him as a "Cane Toad." In his late fifties and standing at 5'6" with a body in shape that looked like typical rounded features of the tribes of Central Asia and weighing at least 230 pounds that description was still on the mark. In all the years Thomas had known him, Ruslan had been overweight indeed it was something that was reinforced by his meaty hands. Yet, although he may have had the look of one of Turkmenistan's famous mountain men, being a trained diplomat his mannerisms were anything but that of his brethren. In his expensive tailored Bironi suit and wearing a US$250,000 one off Patek Philippe on his wrist and brand new John Lobb shoes fresh from Jermyn Street in London on his feet he looked every inch the successful Oligarch he was.

  As it was traditional each man greeted each other in the Turkmen way, a tight bear hug and "Asalaam Aleikum," meaning, "God grants you peace," followed with a kiss on each cheek in the Russian manner.

  "You look well, Ruslan," Thomas offered, not meaning a word of it.

  "So do you, Thomas," Ruslan replied in flawless English.

  With pleasantries to over both men quickly got down to business.

  "The President will see you in an hour," Ruslan said, flicking an imaginary piece of fleck from his blue suit as he sat down on the wide sofa.

  Thomas nodded.

  "What is he like?" asked Thomas as he poured Ruslan a cup of black tea.

  "He is young and passionate" Ruslan replied, ever the diplomat, "and cares deeply for his country," following the party PR line.

  Until two years ago, the young President, Balysh Amayradov, the son of a former Turkmenistan Ambassador to Switzerland, had been a semi-successful private banker in Dubai before suddenly returning to home in order to take up a seat in the Assembly (Mejlis) the legislative branch of Turkmenistan. Good looking, tall, and armed with beautiful young wife half his age, he was seen by his people as a man of traditional values yet his rise to the Presidency in just two years had been stellar to say the least.

  The analysts of Saul's Executive Office described him as man with powerful backers, Ruslan included, and after what Saul had further briefed Thomas on earlier he now knew that there had to be more to the story than that.

  "President in just two years," stated Thomas as a throw away. "Impressive." He handed Ruslan the black tea.

  The former spy turned Oligarch-cum-Politician delivered Thomas one of his famous sleazy smiles as he took the cup.

  "He has a very persuasive wife," offered Ruslan with a look that said more.

  "And friends in Beijing," replied Thomas in effort to read Ruslan's micro expressions. "So I understand," referring to Saul's overview on the President's connections.

  "It is true that China was supportive of his bid to replace our Arkadag's untimely passing," countered Ruslan in reference to the former President's title meaning "Patron" who had died just a month ago and with whom Thomas had agreed the original deal.

  As he did so Thomas noted that Ruslan's face betrayed a look of smugness. "I am sure you helped in this regard?" queried Thomas.

  "Yes," replied the fat man with a look of strength in his eyes not ducking the question but not offering further information. The two men continued to smile at each other in a manner that a pair of cobras might have done before striking each other.

  Thomas didn't need Ruslan to answer his question because he already knew that Ruslan pulled the strings on the new President courtesy of what Saul told him about to Balysh's wife's sister. She had, it transpired, set up a company in Hungary to purchase gas from Turkmenistan and then had purchased a LNG Terminal funded by loan from a Japanese bank with ties to the Katamaya-Gumi. It was well known that Ruslan had ties with the Japanese Yazuka. That meant his friend of convenience had to be acting as security on the loan as there was no other reason why a Japanese bank would suddenly lend a girl of just twenty US$300 million!

  The micro-expressions of Ruslan had confirmed that assumption for Thomas.

  "He's making his move," he concluded, referring to what Thomas thought was a takeover bid of TLH Turkmenistan, which, apart from the new contract the company was about to sign to export gas through the pipelines of Siberia and Korea, also held the exclusive right to import gas from Turkmenistan to Ukraine via the pipeline that crossed the Caspian Sea to enable the connection to the Trans-Caspian pipeline that TLH owned.

  "The bastard is shaking me down!" he thought as he put down his cup of tea. "What makes it worse there there's little I can do about it!" Thomas concluded because Ruslan knew full well that he would never agree to drop the transit commission charge because of the problems it would cause around the world to him.

  That didn't mean though Thomas shouldn't try and make a deal or indeed try and get the President to see sense, despite knowing his fate was probably already sealed by the smug bastard in front of him.

  "Well, I am hoping he listens to my arguments," stated Thomas with a firm look.

  "He will listen my friend, but I believe his mind is made up!" countered Ruslan.

  As he did so, Thomas thought, "At least he has the good manners not to rub it in, enjoy it my friend."

  Built in 1997 at a cost of more than US$80,000,000 the oldest building and official residence of the President in the complex known as the Oguzkhan Palace was a building that Thomas always thought was what an Ottoman Sultan's palace must have looked like with its Italian white marble, gold leaf domes, water fountains, and trees. The residence of the two previous life presidents of Turkmenistan, it now housed the country's latest incumbent.

  Met by a good-looking young aide wearing a dark blue suit and lime green silk tie, the uniform of civil servants in the country, both men and their sets of bodyguards were quickly ushered through the palace and out to the back of the building where they were met by a young striking and exotic Eurasian woman of no more than twenty-one years old. The long dark hair and an hour-glass figure to accompany her emerald green eyes and the way Ruslan greeted her instantly told Thomas that the woman shared his bed as, in ultra conservative Turkmenistan, men never grabbed a woman by the waist and kissed her on cheeks. Ruslan, to his surprise had done both.

  "Jennet," Ruslan said as he turned towards Thomas. "May I introduce Sir Thomas Litchfield," he said with beaming smile and a look of pride.

  "Sir Thomas," replied the young girl with a hint of French in her English accent. "I am Jennet Agamyradova," She continued with a stare that caused Thomas to experience a shiver down his spine because it had been so incredibly intense.

  Surprised by the intensity of the stare and the proffer of her outstretched hand, without hesitation Thomas took hold of the beautiful creature's hand firmly and shook it. Handshake over, she instructed both men to follow her and the aide who had met them outside the palace.

  Leaving their bodyguards at the top of steps apart from Mikhail and Ruslan's Security Head who were allowed to stay with them, Thomas and Ruslan followed her down the marble steps then through the gardens and fountains until they reached a folly just off to one side. Standing in it and dressed in black Italian trousers, wearing a white linen shirt, stood a tall clean-shaven man of about forty-five years of age with salt and pepper short cut hair.

  After warmly greeting Ruslan first in the traditional manner, the man offered his hand to Thomas.

  "Mr. President," Thomas said, introducing himself as he firmly took the President's outstretched hand.

  "Please do sit down, Sir Thomas," answered the man with a hint of an American accent Thomas noted in his English after releasing it.

  Doing as he was requested but not before noting with a hint of interest the way the President had smiled at the young aide Thomas quickly concluded, "That explains a lot! He bats for the other side!"

  For the second time this evening Thomas was shocked. Turkmenistan wa
s one of most repressive countries in the world. Homosexuality was a crime punishable by ten years in prison. Yet it appeared its new President was gay!

  "What a waste," Thomas concluded privately in reference to the fact that he had such a beautiful wife as he watched the woman pour all of the men around the table a cup of Mint Tea each before finally hesitating when it came to his cup.

  It was her reaction that Thomas found perplexing thinking, "Have we met before?" As he searched his memory banks, he concluded, "No I don't think we have." One of things he prided himself on was his memory so he was one hundred percent certain they had never met, but that begged the question, "Then why does she harbor so much hatred towards me?" he thought before parking it.

  Over the next thirty minutes Thomas put forward the arguments as to why the Transit commission had to stay. Each time he did, Balysh intelligently tore apart every one of the arguments he put forward. Sensing that he was getting nowhere Thomas made one last attempt to convince the President of what the likely outcome would be in Japan. This time Jennet stepped in.

  "This does not give you the right to rape all the children of Turkmenistan!" she said with venom.

  The President immediately stepped in.

  "You must forgive my wife Sir Thomas," he said as he grabbed hold of her hand in effort to calm her down. "She is young and passionate!" he continued giving his wife a