Russian Millennium

James Thomas

Description

Moscow, 1999, and Russians are preparing for the presidential elections, due in Spring 2000 when Boris Yeltsin would step down. A popular candidate plans to amass a covert campaign fund which he will use to propel himself into the Kremlin.
Baron Pierre de Vincennes, international facilitator to oligarchs and governments, creates the fund through a web of crude-oil transactions. In parallel, the Baron clandestinely acquires a Russian nuclear submarine, laid-up in a naval dockyard. This vessel is re-commissioned and mobilised to its new Arab owners…
These activities become inextricably entwined which become a catalyst to a series of brutal intimidations and murders in the UK by Russian assassins that baffle Scotland Yard and Interpol…
The action is exacerbated by two millennium events and the Baron attempts to use the ensuing global political confusion to his own advantage. However, did he miscalculate?
Russian Millennium is a fast-paced thriller, portraying the consequences of ruthless pursuit of power, fuelled by blind ambition, greed and sexual blackmail.
The action unfolds from London to Marbella, Moscow to Geneva and the Black Sea ports of Novorossiysk and Sevastopol.

Sujets

• Historical fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
• Date de parution: 31 mars 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528974011
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Russian Millennium
James Thomas
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-03-31
Russian Millennium About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgment Chapter One March 12th 1999 – Moscow Chapter Two March 25 th 1999 – London Chapter Three 1999 – Costa Del Sol, Spain Chapter Four 30 th March 1999 – London Chapter Five Chapter Six London April 2 nd 1999 Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine April 2 nd 9.05 pm London Heathrow Chapter Ten Same Day – London Chapter Eleven April 2 nd Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen April 4 th Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Udmurtia Chapter Seventeen May 10 th , Geneva Chapter Eighteen Scotland Yard Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One London Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four London Chapter Twenty-Five Moscow Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Moscow Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Moscow, late June 1999 Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Chapter Forty-Six Moscow, July 4 th Chapter Forty-Seven Chapter Forty-Eight Chapter Forty-Nine Chapter Fifty Chapter Fifty-One Chapter Fifty-Two Chapter Fifty-Three Chapter Fifty-Four Chapter Fifty-Five Novorossiysk, July 7 th Chapter Fifty-Six Chapter Fifty-Seven Chapter Fifty-Eight Chapter Fifty-Nine Chapter Sixty Chapter Sixty-One Chapter Sixty-Two Chapter Sixty-Three Chapter Sixty-Four Chapter Sixty-Five Chapter Sixty-Six Chapter Sixty-Seven Chapter Sixty-Eight Chapter Sixty-Nine Chapter Seventy London, September 1 st Chapter Seventy-One Chapter Seventy-Two Chapter Seventy-Three Chapter Seventy-Four Chapter Seventy-Five Chapter Seventy-Six Chapter Seventy-Seven Chapter Seventy-Eight December 12th, Sevastopol Chapter Seventy-Nine December 27 th 0800 Chapter Eighty December 30 th 0400 Chapter Eighty-One December 31 2200 hours Chapter Eighty-Two Chapter Eighty-Three December 31 st Chapter Eighty-Four Chapter Eighty-Five December 31 st 2300 Chapter Eighty-Six Chapter Eighty-Seven Chapter Eighty-Eight Chapter Eighty-Nine Moscow Airport January 1 st 2007 Chapter Ninety Chapter Ninety-One Chapter Ninety-Two Chapter Ninety-Three January 25 th 2000
About the Author
James has spent over three decades living, travelling and working around the world in the international oil and gas business. His career has enabled him to visit most locations in this novel and many of the fictional characters and events are modelled upon actual people and occurrences. He currently resides in Berkshire, balancing his lifestyle between writing, playing golf and entertaining his ever-growing clutch of grandchildren!
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my family and friends whose patience has been remarkable, plus, but not least, the Baron…
Copyright Information ©
James Thomas (2020)
The right of James Thomas to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Austin Macaulay Publishers will not be liable for any and all claims or causes of action, known or unknown, arising out of the contents of this book.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528973991 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528974011 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Acknowledgment
I acknowledge the assistance that Penny Black gave me in the initial drafts of this novel.
Chapter One

March 12th 1999 – Moscow
The President of Maikopia, Victor Trypov, stood up slowly from his chair at the head of the table. Enjoying the attentive gaze of his small party of personally-invited guests, he raised his champagne glass, its hand-crafted flute reflecting brilliant colours from the light of the overhead chandelier.
“ Na Sdarovie !” he boomed.
The toast was returned in enthusiastic collective unison. The small exclusive group had been gathered for over three hours in the dining room of Victor’s private suite, situated on the top floor of Moscow’s Krasnipolski Hotel with spectacular views of the most famous Moscow skyline, and had all enjoyed a sumptuous feast. The magnificent sandstone building was formerly a town palace of the Czars’, but had recently been luxuriously refurbished after decades of neglect. Its six floors overlooked the four-traffic lane Moskvoretskaya Bridge, crossing the river Moskva that flowed through the capital. Although the room was furnished to accommodate twenty people in sumptuous comfort, the four diners had enjoyed their evening in an informal but intimate atmosphere, served by discreet staff that not only outnumbered their clientele, but made their presence almost non-existent. The president’s guests included a Russian presidential candidate, an English bank executive, and a white Cameroonian, both a diplomat and businessman.
Victor had been elected president of the Maikop Republic in 1993 when he was only thirty-three years old. Maikopia was sandwiched between the Volga and the Don deltas, with outlets to the Caspian Sea. The small state was relatively unknown outside of Russia until after the era of Perestroika. Thereafter, the advent of post-Cold War western involvement in oil exploitation in the former Russian states surrounding the Caspian Sea had brought her into the international eye. Plus, her extrovert leader’s complete and utter obsession with chess and his hosting of international tournaments in his country had maintained the gaze and bemusement of the world’s press. The President loved his country and the people loved him. Having just won this second election, he would not have to contest his seat again for another six years. His power base in the new confederation was reinforced by his position as an elected member of the Russian Federation Council and as Chairman of the Russian Chamber of Industrialists. His own personal fortune was said to exceed that of the annual revenue of Maikopia, estimated at in excess of 500 million dollars. He had every reason to feel especially happy tonight.
It was 2 am local time and the night was still young. Business was almost concluded and the newly re-elected President was in the mood to celebrate the completion of his latest, but potentially most lucrative and powerful, deal. He looked at his three companions. Seated adjacent to him at the table and joining him in the toast was Sergei Chevenovsky, leader of the National Socialist Party. The National Socialist Party held the third largest number of seats in the Duma. However, being a member of the Russian Parliament was but a stepping-stone to greater things, because Chevenovsky had his eye on the Presidency. Since 1996, when he had lost heavily with less than eight percent of the vote in the national election, he had been President Boris Yeltsin’s most vociferous and antagonistic political opponent. But new elections were due, just around the corner in the spring of the new Millennium.
“Yes, and cheers to our new British partner, and the success of his project, our own Swiss bank!” Trypov continued in perfect English, standing and crashing his half full glass against that of Peter Styles, the elegant British banker sitting on his left.
Peter joined in with the toast, “Yes, good health, and continued prosperity to us all,” at the same time, wondering how the crystal managed to sustain such impact without shattering. As if reading his thoughts, Victor said in his heavy Chechen accent as he sat down,
“Another Russian product that we will send to the world, made in Maikopia!”
Peter smiled, and with regained confidence, extended his toast,
“To the prosperity of Maikopia, the jewel of the CIS.” Then he paused as he raised his glass to the fourth member of the dinner party, Baron de Vincennes. The handsome diplomat, a master of timing born of years of protocol training, waited until there was a lull in the room before extending his own congratulations. This culminated in a raised eyebrow to Peter, which no one else noticed. He completed his toast with a friendly jibe about Englishmen.
“The fact is, they think they still rule the world even though they don’t speak anybody’s language but their own.” This produced a hearty response from the two Russians and their alcohol-induced guffaws resounded around the room.
Peter joined in the light-hearted banter, disheartened that the Baron seem to relish playing on his overtly courteous manner. Although he had been fifteen years in the private banking sector, and was used to meeting wealthy and influential international clients, rarely had his business covered such diverse areas as was being visited this evening, and more than once he had thought he might be playing outside his league. The Baron’s gesture had assured him that everything had gone well, and so he was pleased when Victor rose for the last time. After extending final embraces to his new partners, the leader of the SDP made his way to the door, two attendants appearing from no-where to facilitate the removal of heavy dining chairs effortles