unexpected and from TLH's point of view he welcomed it, although he doubted Balysh and the Islamic people of Turkmenistan would think so. Nevertheless he had thought it was for pure political capital for he assumed that the Mayor would stop short of annexing Turkmenistan on fear of upsetting China, Russia's biggest customer of its gas. O's next words quickly changed that.
"With China's eyes firmly focused on return of old Japan, they had asked me to act as their broker in return for allowing them to provide military support to Korea in any engagement that Hong deems necessary," he continued loosening his tie on his white shirt.
"Fuck!" Thomas thought. His mind began to process what those words meant. Firstly it meant that the Mayor had been given permission by China without fear of consequences to annex another piece of former Soviet territory. Secondly, China and Korea were about to enter into a political and military alliance that would force the immediate withdrawal of American troops on Korean soil and with it, place the United States firmly on the back foot in Asia.
Personally he couldn't have cared less about the geo-political impact of such a decision. All he saw was the financial impact to his business and the world over the next twelve months. As O continued, Thomas wondered if the Mayor was aware of this information. He tested O once he had finished.
"The impact on our business from the loss of major gas market in Japan will do serious damage to Russia's and the North's recovery," he said just as one of O's assistants brought them both a large glass of whiskey.
He switched his mind back to that of his friend, who was handing him one of the large glasses of whiskies packed with ice.
"I know, my friend," answered O. "That's why I have a message that I need you to deliver in the event of war," he continued while they grimly toasted each other and took a large swig each for "Dutch courage."
Thirty minutes later with the contents of the message bouncing around his mind, a troubled Thomas left the building. As he stepped into the Range Rover Thomas wondered whether he had just signed his own death warrant. He been asked to represent his friend in a meeting with a man who, based on what Rob had told him only just days ago, was part of the attack on his business interests and one of the architects of this very crisis engulfing the world. In spite that, O had assured him that the letter he had given him to effect his introduction would stop this.
Thomas wasn't stupid. When one found himself as a pawn in a game of chess being fought between five of the world's richest nations, one needed to make sure he kept all the channels open in an effort to survive the fallout that would come if he couldn't find a way to help keep the peace, lest avoid being caught up in the fallout if war came.
That was why he called the Mayor the moment he left the meeting with O. To his surprise, the Mayor had immediately agreed to see him immediately. "Stay for dinner," the Mayor ordered with unusual warmth.
Ever since the incident in Adwalland, followed by his move back to Moscow and then assassination attempt, which despite being only two months since it had happened now seemed like a lifetime ago, informal dinners with the man were becoming a regular occurrence, much to Thomas's distaste. From a political point of view, one could argue these invitations should be welcomed. From personal point of view he dreaded them, as they were always dinner parties with all his fawning cronies present. Usually he always went to them alone. He didn't get a chance tonight, though for when Thomas had said he all he needed was thirty minutes to give him an update on his meeting with O, The Mayor asked him to bring a guest.
"Nonsense!" the Mayor said. "It will just be you, me and Alina. So why don't you bring the famous Miss Zhang with you, as I don't want Alina playing the? how to do you English say it?" he asked chuckling. "Third wheel," he said answering his own question and showing Thomas yet again that the man knew every one of his movements and "That a man is born free everywhere but in chains in Putin's Russia," drawing from Rousseau's famous quote from eighteenth-century France.
Knowing "no" wasn't the answer yet again Thomas bowed to the wishes of his Master and then called Zhang.
In the Range Rover that was being driven by Yossi at speed in the middle lane that was usually reserved for foreign diplomats and members of the government and the security services, sat the ever-present Mikhail in the front seat with Thomas and Zhang in the back. Behind them in another Range Rover were the backup members of his protection team while in front of them was a BMW X6 that belonged to the FSB with blue lights flashing in the grill of the vehicle. (A privilege that Thomas had only recently been granted by the Director of the FSB under the order of the Mayor and something Thomas readily admitted was a benefit worth having, as it enabled him to avoid Moscow's heavy traffic.)
Thomas turned to gaze at Zhang.
His mind drifted momentarily back to Nara. Before her death it would have been her sitting there, picking his brains as to how she was to act and what he needed her to do so she didn't let him down. Sadness wrapped around him again. Although just as beautiful, Zhang didn't need to question him because unlike his fiery street-smart wild horse of the mountains, as he had always thought of Nara, his beautiful companion from China was the complete polar opposite. Super intelligent, poised, elegant, and reserved as any ice queen, she didn't need the reassurance that Nara had consistently needed.
Since the assassination attempt and after their bout of passionate lovemaking that night that had followed, it had not gone unnoticed by Thomas that their relationship had seemed to settle into a routine. Unspoken, the famous actress and model had put her career on hold and had stayed in Moscow to take up position at his side. Everybody in his family, as he thought of his team, had taken to her with the exception of Victoria who unsurprisingly saw her as a potential replacement for her mother.
Even Tania had accepted her although he knew the woman would never have said anything even if she thought otherwise. To them and the world, Zhang was the perfect companion for him. It was this that played on Thomas mind now.
"Too perfect, too easy," he mused before banishing the thought.
As Zhang took the hand of the President of Russia, who was dressed casually in a light blue shirt and dark blue trousers, she immediately noted his grip: thumbs on top of each other's hand, neither of them were giving way. The result was that Zhang felt the man was giving her the feeling of equality, something that surprised as she had thought he would attempt to dominate her, like men his position often did.
"It is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Zhang," he said smiling.
"The honor is mine, Mr. President," she answered formally at which he requested that she call him by his first name. Instantly Zhang used her other hand to cover her smile and used her green eyes as a weapon to charm him.
As Zhang were introduced to his wife who kissed her on each cheek in the traditional Russian manner, she mused internally that finally it appeared that Thomas was beginning to trust her.
When he said that they had been invited to dinner with the man he called the Mayor, (something she learned Hannah during one of the many suppers they shared together on the Sabbath that was his group's codename for Putin), only then did it only dawn on her how close he was to the man.
Despite her subtle attempts to get him to engage on what drove his business until now, he had steadfastly kept his own council and had managed to keep his business separate from that of his personal life much to the frustration of her masters in Beijing.
The truth though for Zheng was more complicated for although she hadn't reported it to Beijing she had developed feelings for him, a conclusion she had reached when she heard the news that an attempt had been made on his life.
The feelings of panic and then the sense of relief she had felt when she had passionately kissed him after the event were a set of feelings she had never experienced with a man before and although she had been enjoying the sensations, she knew they were secondary to that of her mission and as such had tried to banish them.
Having been under increasingly heavy pressure fr
om Beijing since the liberation of the Diaoyu Islands (the Chinese name for the disputed islands) and the growing tensions between the Americans and China to gather actionable intelligence the relief Zhang had felt when he asked her to attend a private supper with the Mayor had been second to none, but ever the trained intelligence officer she had managed to keep her emotions in check.
Listening to them, over the dinner table speak about various issues of importance for Russia had been enlightening for her and would give her useful intelligence to pass back to Beijing, but it was only when, half way through dinner, the Mayor had asked Zhang for her thoughts on events in the Turkmenistan that it got truly interesting in terms of her mission, despite seeing how uncomfortable Thomas looked over what he assumed her answer would be.
"Vladimir, it would be unfair of me to assume I understand all that drives a disagreement between two nations," she said diplomatically while looking at Thomas.
The Mayor wasn't having that for one moment.
"Ignore Fama!" he ordered with a smile. "I know his opinions! I am interested in what a real Chinese person thinks over the Turkmenistan question," he said, ignoring the dispute in South China Sea and the Sea of Japan with Korea.
Zhang focused her green eyes on the leader
The Devil's Playground Page 41
