Diamonds In The Rough

It was late October of 1991 when I sat in the club in St. Petersburg, listening to Stanislav’s job offer.  The Soviet Union would be dead in two months.  After that, there would be a number of smaller, independent countries, and Russia.

 

In truth, the Soviet Union had been on its deathbed for years, even before Gorbachov took power.  There were those in Russia who knew exactly what was going on, and were positioning themselves to take advantage of the opportunities that come with change.  I did not realize it at the time, but I was about to meet one of those men.

 

Stanislav worked for Valery Dmitryev, principal owner of what would soon be known as the Dmitryev Diamond Corporation.  Officially, the Soviet government still owned all the major industries.  In reality, the parsing up of the country, as the government collapsed, had already been decided upon.  Dmitryev was an insider, and smart and aggressive enough to grab a big chunk of the pie.

 

When the government collapsed, he already had the elements of his diamond empire in place.  Seemingly overnight, he was on his way to becoming one of Russia’s first billionaires.

 

That evening in October, Stanislav convinced me to go on a job interview with Mr. Dmitryev.  Six weeks later, I boarded a train and made the trip to Moscow, where his headquarters was located.

 

The outside of the building was plain, but the interior had the unmistakable aroma of money.  The security guard’s uniform was brand new and crisply pressed, unlike the well-used ones the Moscow policemen wore.  He escorted me to the office on the fifth floor.  The secretary greeted me and asked me to sit.

 

“Mr. Dmitryev is finishing up a meeting and will be ready to see you in a few minutes.  Can I get you something to drink?”

 

I sipped coffee and tried to read what I could from the office.  I came to the conclusion that Mr.  Dmitryev had gotten a significant head start on the transition from communism to capitalism.

 

A few minutes later, the door behind the secretary’s desk opened, and several men walked out. They wore expensive suits and carried leather briefcases.  I felt underdressed.  I wore slacks and a shirt from the GUM department store, where ordinary Russians shopped.  I had never been on a formal job interview before.  It hadn’t occurred to me to wear a coat or a tie.

 

Another well-dressed man walked out of the office and towards me.  “You must be Mr. Andreyevsky.  I am Valery Dmitryev.  Please come into my office.  I have been looking forward to talking to you.”  I stood, shook his hand, and followed him into his office.

 

He motioned for me to sit across the desk from him.  He said, “I’m not a man who makes a lot of small talk.  But before we talk about the job, I want to tell you some things about myself.  That will help you understand what I will expect if you take the job.”

 

“I grew up very poor.  The German Army destroyed much of Russia during the war.  We had nothing.  I survived by being more ruthless than the people who would have taken advantage of me.  I show no mercy to my competition, or to anyone who gets in my way.”

 

“But I figured out a long time ago, I can never accomplish very much strictly by myself.  I was smart enough to know I would have to surround myself with other smart people to accomplish my goals.  And make sure they are happy, so they will work hard for me, and want to stay.”

 

“I did some research, after Stanislav told me about you.  He knew you are an American.  I know you are Evan Anthony, from Wales, Alaska.  I know you assumed a dead soldier’s identity, and were an effective, sometimes brutal soldier for five years.  And I know Mr. Semak thinks highly of you.”

 

“Do not worry.  I will not attempt to blackmail you into working for me.  I would never be able to trust you if I did that.  If you decide not to take the job, I will not tell anyone what I know.  Your secrets are safe with me.”

 

“Regarding the job.  It will have two main components.  First, I will want you on my personal security team whenever I travel to any of our remote locations.  Particularly the Saskylakh mine.  It is just coming into operation and is accessible only by helicopter or a very crude road.”

 

“I have made enemies in order to get where I am.  I have competitors who sabotage my equipment, and have made threats against me.”

 

“So, what would you think about being a bodyguard part of the time?  I will pay double what you make at Semak.”

 

“I’ll consider it.  I’m not interested in anything illegal.  I took enough risks in the Army.”

 

“Understood.  As a bodyguard, I will expect you to use your skills to look for potential threats, and defend me to the best of your ability if a threat turns real.  I will not ask for more than that.”

 

“There is second aspect of the job.  This is the part where you will realize you can’t say no.” 

 

“From now on, I will be entertaining businessmen from all over the world.  I want them to buy diamonds from me, not from the more established companies in South Africa or the other new Russian ventures.  One of the tools I will use to sway them is a hunting lodge I am building in the Ural Mountains, north of Perm.”

 

“When you are not performing security jobs, you will be at the lodge.  You will be in charge of developing and running the hunting and fishing operations.  In the evenings, I will wine and dine customers in the lodge.  During the day, you will take them hunting, fishing, or perhaps bird watching, whatever they would enjoy.  I also want a shooting range.”

 

“The facility is under construction.  It will be your call regarding how your part of things are set up.  Money is not an object.  I want to show my future customers that I am serious, and a first rate hunting lodge will be a part of my sales pitch.”

 

“I intend to make a lot of money.  I already know that does not motivate you.  But I don’t think you will be able to say no, if you see the place.  It is spectacular.”  He handed me a photo album.  He wasn’t exaggerating.

 

“That is why I scheduled your interview for Friday afternoon.  I am done for the week.  There is a jet waiting for us at the airport.  It is a two-hour flight to Perm, then a 30-minute helicopter ride to the lodge.  What do you say?”

 

I chuckled.  Mr. Dmitryev had done his homework.  I knew I couldn’t say no without at least taking a tour of the lodge.  “I’m ready to leave when you are.”

 

Someone would need to be well connected to get the permits and cut through the red tape required to operate a Learjet 35 in the Soviet Union.  Not to mention the millions of dollars it must have cost.  It was tiny compared to the Il-76 I had jumped out of many times.  But it was very fast, and the interior was luxurious.  I was not used to having an attractive lady bring me food and beverages on an airplane.

 

The cabin was set up like an office.  I sat across from Mr. Dmitryev, between us was a table.  A magazine rack attached to the table contained copies of Pravda, the Wall Street Journal, and the New York Times.  The same newspapers I read, years ago, at Eastwood’s insistence.  I smelled a setup.

 

I looked at my host.  He was grinning from ear to ear.  “You see, Evan, private investigators in the United States are very good at what they do.  It was not hard for them to track down people who knew you and your uncle.  The librarians at the University of Alaska recognized the photos of the man and the teenager, who always seemed to have a black eye or bruises.”

 

“I use the time I spend flying to get caught up on reading.  I thought you would like to do the same.  By the way, when we are by ourselves, you may call me Valery.”

 

It occurred to me that this was not a man to be trifled with.  I pictured what would happen to anyone who tried to cheat him.  I would make sure he never had a reason to think that about me.  The flight passed quickly, and I had time to catch up on what was happening in the world.

 

The helicopter landed just as the sun was setting.  The lodge was in a valley, surrounded on three sides by the majestic Ural Mountains.   When completed, the front porch will overlook a lake.  The pictures did not do the place justice.  I could see why he chose this spot.  I couldn’t imagine how much money he was spending. 

 

Several construction trailers served as temporary housing.  The exterior of the lodge was almost finished.  The facility was huge, by my standards.  But I was more interested in what I would find tomorrow, grazing in the valley, swimming in the lake, and living on the slopes of the mountains.

 

Like myself, Mr. Dimetryev was an early riser.  He proposed a hike after breakfast.  He had a camera, I carried a notebook.  We walked for three hours in a loop, around the edges of the valley, and across the shore of the lake.  I made drawings of the trails, and took note of the plants and animals I saw.  Valery took pictures of the things I pointed out. 

 

The lake was well stocked with pike and perch.  He asked, “What do I need in order to provide a first rate fishing experience for my guests?”

 

“You can order rods, reels, and other equipment from a catalog.  Eastwood got our supplies from a company called Barlow’s Tackle.  I’m sure there are others.  You’ll want a wooden pier to fish from.  And a flat bottomed boat with an electric motor.  At times, the best fishing will be in the deeper water.  You’ll need a generator, or electricity on the pier, to recharge the battery that runs the boat’s motor.”

 

“All of that is pretty straightforward.  Coming up with good bait is a different story.  Live, fresh bait is a requirement for the best fishing.  I recommend minnows.  They can be raised in aquariums.  If you go that route, they would need to be in a heated building during the winter.  Aquariums require a lot of maintenance.  It would actually be simpler, and more impressive, to have a minnow pond.”

 

“You’ve got a backhoe on site already, it would only take a few hours to dig a nice pond.  It should be 8 feet deep, or the minnows won’t survive the coldest weather.”

 

“Some of the pike are pretty big.  Too big for minnows.  The best bait for them would be perch we would catch first.  Going after the big fish would be strictly for experienced fishermen.  They are strong enough to pull someone off balance, perhaps into the water, when they are thrashing around, trying to get the hook out of their mouth.”

 

There was a football field sized area next to the lodge, one of the level spots in the undulating valley.  I asked, “Have you thought about bow hunting?  This would be a perfect spot for an archery range.”

 

He laughed and said, “No, Evan.  Unlike you, I don’t have the expertise or time to think of things like that.  You, on the other hand, have lived your entire life in this kind of environment.  You will have a budget large enough to purchase whatever you think we need.  And an assistant to take care of the details.  Can I assume you’ll take the job?”

 

From the minute I met Valery, he had stayed one step ahead of me.  He knew he had an advantage when he got me thinking about hunting and fishing.  We shook hands.

 

We flew back to Moscow that afternoon.  He agreed I should work out a three-week notice.  My employer had been straight up with me and I didn’t want to leave him in a bad position. 

 

I recommended a replacement to Mr. Semak.  An assistant who already knew most of the business.  I spent my last days in St. Petersburg finishing up his training.

 

When I arrived at the lodge, as an employee of the Dimetryev Diamond Corporation, it was January 2^nd, 1992.  I would start the year off with a new job.  And I was living in a brand new country, although it was also very old. 

 

Eight days before, Mikhail Gorbachov had resigned.  Boris Yeltsin was now in charge.  The Soviet flag was taken down from the Kremlin and replaced with the traditional Russian Tricolor.  The next day, the Soviet Union was officially dissolved.  Communism was dead.  The nation of Russia, after a 74 year absence, had returned.