A trivial matter

'The dream and its outcome' is an anthology of 18 short stories, which deal mainly in intelligence and its influence on individuals lives, whether they are intelligence organizations members or ordina

A trivial matter

"The dream and its outcome"

An excerpt

On Monday morning at ten o’clock he sat at the head of a prearranged meeting according to a routine schedule with his departments’ heads, Komerenko included of course. No decisions were made and three hours of blabbering as far as he was concerned finally passed; he was left at last with his most trusted man, Valery Smolinkin his personal aid and consultant.

‘Something must be bothering you boss,’ remarked his aid, clearing his throat nervously.

‘Oh just a trivial matter,’ replied Kotelnikov after a short pause. ‘I say, when is comrade Komerenko bound to retire, could you find it out for me?’

‘Oh, I’ll find it out, but may I remind you boss that he’s quite a backing and he’s recommended for.’

‘Yes I know, and it isn’t relevant at all.’ Retorted Kotelnikov impatiently. ‘If it wasn’t for Trotsky we’d be a monarchy to this very day, with one of Czar Nikolai’s descendants to head it �" and I don’t have to tell you what was Trotsky’s fate.’ 

Smolinkin cleared his throat, nodded obediently his head, got to his feet and left �" he knew quite well what he is supposed to do.

On that evening Smolinkin arrived to pay his boss a visit, he had no trouble to pass the gate, though he very rarely visited his boss’s lodgings. The guards eyed him with a hint of scorn, as if he was some temporary hired hand �" he didn’t have a chauffeur to drive him around, and that must have been the cause to that unpleasant attitude. It didn’t trouble him even then, when he crossed at the first time that gate under several pairs of suspicious and contemptuous eyes �" he got used to it

As he passed the gate he noticed five limousines that were parked already next to his boss’s dacha, their chauffeurs were having a cup of tea no doubt in the kitchen, or in some other remote quarter. He was ushered almost stealthily in by the dacha’s head of security, who knew very well what was Smolinkin's worth, as far as the mighty boss was concerned. Kotelnikov’s five guests Komerenko included were huddled round a square table, rather busy in game of poker. Being an outsider who was brought along by his boss, Smolinkin joined the small group of five prominent organization members rather humbly, took the tumbler of vodka offered to him by the house agent and sat apart in the wide living room, listening attentively �" and waiting patiently to the fraternal meeting’s end.

As soon as the round was over, Kotelnikov asked his inferiors how much money each one of them lost, and reimbursed each one them his loss �" smiling benevolently, he had no intention to bankrupt them, he added laughing. He did not have to pretend, he was in a good mood; comrade Komerenko was taken care of, and Smolinkin was bringing him good tidings no doubt �" he never let him down.

The game was over, everything was settled in good spirits, thus he stood up and all his inferiors followed suit. They took their leave with throbbing hearts no doubts, for they could have guessed that something was amiss, having seen their boss loyal snoop arrival. The scenario was well staged. Let them shake with fear, thought Kotelnikov quite pleased, while exchanging greetings with each one of them.

‘Let’s have a breath of fresh air in the garden.’ He told Smolnikin as the latter approached him. Smolnikin was caught in a sudden fit of coughs. In the old times it could have had just one meaning, the last thing he would ever hear.

‘Oh come on,’ his boss muttered with a short laugh, slapping his most trusted man on his bent back.

‘Well,’ Kotelnikov turned to his loyal aid with a hint of impatience. They were strolling in his vast garden in semi darkness. A group of four armed guards led the way on the broad path right behind Kotelnikov’s dacha; and a second group of four kept their rear some twenty yards behind them.

‘I’ve discussed the matter with Maxim…’ Smolinkin managed to mutter. He was in a state of panic almost. ‘With whom?’ The boss raised his voice. ‘With Niazov, the Uzbek, Komerenko’s deputy.’ He hastened to explain. ‘I see is everything settled?'

‘That’s why I’ve come, it’s a bit complicated. Niazov is about to retire in six months time if no drastic changes would take place. He expects a miracle.’ Smolinkin added with a slight chuckle. He collected his wits after a few silent moments of fright, having realized at last that he has nothing to fear of.

‘He’ll have his miracle. What else?’

‘Hum, they’ve two running projects as you know, several local residents at the west and east coasts; seven all in all, most of them were recruited just recently by the Estonian.’ He made a short pause inhaling the cool night air into his lungs. ‘…And there’s our main source in the U.N. Peter… We have snatched him from the GRU �" he’s our best man.’

‘So that’s what troubles Niazov. I’ve seen their department’s star reports, and some are still on my desk. He’s fed with disinformation and the few bits he does gather are worthless. Tell Niazov their star can be disposed of, and that I expect him to fold his sleeves and do a much better job than Komerenko ever did.’

‘Very well sir, I’ll send our consulate in N.Y.C the documents and comrade’s Pasholnikov’s authentic personal details.’ Smolinkin said with a sunken heart.

 

© Haim Kadman 2007 �" all rights reserved.

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