BooksBarbecue
Back The Asset
Chapters (86)
  1. Foreword
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. 50
  52. 51
  53. 52
  54. 53
  55. 54
  56. 55
  57. 56
  58. 57
  59. 58
  60. 59
  61. 60
  62. 61
  63. 62
  64. 63
  65. 64
  66. 65
  67. 66
  68. 67
  69. 68
  70. 69
  71. 70
  72. 71
  73. 72
  74. 73
  75. 74
  76. 75
  77. 76
  78. 77
  79. 78
  80. 79
  81. 80
  82. 81
  83. 82
  84. 83
  85. 84
  86. Afterword

The staffer met Goldin at a meeting at the Mandarin Oriental, and afterward invited him to a strip club. At the club, Goldin threw around a lot of money, got hideously drunk, and spent the night in one of the club’s champagne suites. According to the report, those suites weren’t cheap, and weren’t for the faint of heart. Whoever Goldin was on Sunday mornings in Newport, that wasn’t who he was in the champagne suite.

Reports like this were the true contribution Igor had made to his country. They were the oxygen of his program. He’d spent decades traveling the world, meeting with Russian embassy officials and consular staff, impressing on them the importance of his list, the Black List he called it, and sending them notifications anytime anyone important was scheduled to travel to their city.

If an embassy staffer met with someone on the list, and filled out a simple report afterwards, they got a thousand dollars. Even if nothing happened, even if the most important detail the report contained was how the target took his coffee, it was a thousand dollars for the embassy official. And Igor always paid, always on time, no questions asked. It was something the staffers could rely on, and they filled out the reports diligently. If the report actually covered something interesting, something truly compromising, the price went up exponentially.

The report Tatyana was reading on Goldin had probably earned its author five thousand dollars. If there’d been photos of Goldin in the strip club, or video of him getting a lap dance or something, it might have been worth twenty.

It wasn’t a huge amount in the grand scheme of things, but more than enough to keep the keyboards clacking at Russian embassies around the world.

The truth was, finding targets wasn’t difficult. There were so many men around the world who had access to things Russia could benefit from, information systems, communications networks, financial data, that you’d be hard-pressed to go to a city, even the remotest backwater, and not come up with a list of good targets. And with Igor’s budget, a steady flow of reports was assured.

Tatyana knew there was scarcely a world leader left that Igor didn’t have dirt on. Even the countries with female leaders.