New York City, Tuesday…

Vladimir left the board room tired. In spite of the fact that he had helped finance the campaigns of the current American President, that fool Fulton had now become a thorn in his side. He had said as much at the meeting. Now I even have to watch my back on my legitimate capitalist endeavors.He knew he could work within the parameters proposed by the Fulton administration, although he didn't want to have to do it for long. The word was now out to his legal department and his lobbyists: Go after them.

He was still suffering from jet lag. He knew it. There was only one way to relieve the stress. He called and made the arrangements. Two out-of-work Broadway actresses would show up at his hotel at 9 pm to put him to bed.

His first priority over, he made two more calls. The first was to a general in the Pentagon. Naturally, there was a blank image on the video. Ah, national security, isn't it wonderful! "Buenas tardes, mi general. Soy Ramirez." The general only knew him by that name. He spoke quickly using a Caribbean dialect. A Spanish speaker like the general might guess Dominican, Cuban, or maybe Atlantic Coast Colombian. In Madrid he could speak Castilian or any of the other dialects from the Spanish provinces. He had a good ear for the nuances of language and loved fooling people with his ability.