Part 20: Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

Chapter 20: Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

There is goon participation in this chapter!

With three Red Mafiya warehouses seized and no one the wiser, the Novistranan Coalition took the first steps in eradicating the syndicate's nefarious hold on Pugachev. Prokofiev understood that Ilyushin would take the takeovers personally, but ensured that the Mafiya leader would only get wind of it when the charity trust was completely protected by legitimate fronts.

In order to do this, Prokofiev turned to the final step in completing the charity trust: getting celebrity endorsement. Oleg Baturin's idea of endorsement was a good one, but it would take even more blackmail and dirty tricks to get the celebrities in town to participate. Prokofiev and his inner circle prepared to investigate and bait the media, but Josef Nasarov voiced an ultimatum...

* * *

Prokofiev settled heavily on the couch, his feet aching. The clock on the wall said it was already 8 PM, but the day's work was still not done. "Any word from Josef or Churnyeav?" he asked, pulling off his shoes.

Father Baturin came out of the kitchen, arranging five plates on the dinner table. "Not yet, Mr. Prokofiev," he said apologetically. "I'm sorry."

"All right, don't worry about it," Prokofiev grumbled dismissively as he struggled with a sock. "Well, we three are here. We've gotten the groundwork laid out."

"What's the deal now, taskmaster?" Lavanov asked, putting his book down next to the armchair's table. He seemed to be slightly aggravated at having his reading time interrupted, but Prokofiev regarded him with disdain.

"The deal, Lavanov, is those celebrities. Now that we've seized the Red Mafiya warehouses, we can breathe easier and complete our charity before they do something disastrous." Prokofiev turned to Baturin, who was walking back into the kitchen to fetch some silverware. "Are they still in town, Father?"

"Yes, the last time I checked, at least," Baturin shouted from the kitchen over the clatter of forks and knives.

"Good. That means we can put on our next stage of the plan," Prokofiev stated, steepling his hands and bowing his head in thought. "We need to move and find out what these people want hidden, and... Oh, there you are."

His meditations were interrupted by the headquarters door unlocking and opening, revealing Nasarov and Churnyeav. The two entered the headquarters and join the others in the living room, shuddering from the cold night but looking quite lively.

"Did we miss the briefing, sir?" asked Churnyeav, removing his heavy combat jacket.

"No, you two are just in time. As I was saying, we need to find out what these people want hidden," Prokofiev resumed, feeling calmer now that the entire inner circle was present. "Then, we'll leak it through the press via Lavanov. As a final act, we offer to hide the celebrity in question and keep the under tight guard. Do I have it right?"

"Perfectly so, taskmaster," Lavanov answered. He even had a way of making an affirmation sound like an insult, noted an annoyed Prokofiev. "I already have the tabloids on speed dial and thanks to your little union buddies we have safe houses ready to be used."

"Why wasn't I told about this?" interrupted an upset Nasarov. He removed his union apron and hung it next to Churnyeav's jacket on the rack.

"Josef, you left with Churnyeav before we discussed the safe house details," Prokofiev explained patiently. The two men had left earlier in the day in a huff, but neither had contacted the other three Coalition members until now. "We'll hide the stars and enforce a strict code of silence on the entire area."

"I recommend not stuffing more than one celebrity in a safe house. They tend to get... catty," Lavanov smirked, clearly relishing the thought of having three stars bicker pointlessly in a tiny apartment somewhere.

"Whatever. Father Baturin, you were the one in charge of finding out about these men," Prokofiev called to the kitchen. "Can you tell us who we're targeting?"

As if on cue, Baturin brought out the silverware in one hand while the other carried three manicured-looking folders with sticky notes and paperclips neatly arranged.

Novistranan Coalition Dossier - Danilov Bogdanov: Celebrity

Bogdanov is the darling of Novistrana. The captain of the national football team is rich, successful and has a beautiful wife. Together they have courted the media and now the country hangs on their every word, hungering for more details about this fairy-tale couple.

"Our first option is Danilov Bogdanov," Baturin said, all business, as he handed the dossiers to Prokofiev and went about setting the table. "You've probably heard of him. Mr. Bogdanov is a sports superstar and has a lot of fans in the football world. When he's not playing for Novistrana in World Cup qualification matches, he plays for Barcelona."

"Mark me, he's hiding a secret just like Italians dive," the satirist grinned.

"Football, huh?" grunted Nasarov, taking a seat next to Prokofiev but not taking the dossier he offered.

"Mr. Bogdanov is also well-known for his relationship with his wife, Dalia Bogdanov. The two are soulmates," added Baturin, walking back to the kitchen to get glasses.

"I bet you that's exactly the problem, Father Baturin," Churnyeav interjected. "Sir, you strike at a man's weak point, and his weak point is where he overcompensates."

"You think he's got troubles in his marriage?" asked Nasarov, looking at a picture of the athlete.

"Absolutely. No offense, Father," the soldier added quickly to Baturin who was returning with the glasses, "but marriage in Novistrana isn't exactly virtuous."

"Well, we'll find out about that soon enough, won't we?" Baturin sighed as he walked over to Prokofiev and motioned to the second dossier. "Here's what I found on Mr. Hazard."

Novistranan Coalition Dossier - Dieter Hazard: Celebrity

Dieter Hazard is one half of the well-known dance group Hazard Bros. They have traveled the globe entertaining at all the big clubs and festivals. His brother is something of a recluse, preferring instead to stay in the studio, creating their unique techno music.

"Dieter Hazard, if that's not his stage name, is part of a dance group with his brother," explained Baturin before leaving to get the food. "The two are pretty popular, I hear, and Dieter is the face while his brother is the brains."

"So he's hiding something under all that glamor?" sneered Nasarov, unimpressed.

"Fame is a form of power, Mr. Nasarov, and all power corrupts," Baturin answered from the kitchen. "I think that when he's not making music, Mr. Hazard is doing things he'd rather keep hidden."

"Of course, robes," Lavanov said patronizingly, although Baturin ignored it. "And what about our last option?"

Novistranan Coalition Dossier - Stepan Volkov: Celebrity

Stepan Volkov rose to fame after starring in Sorroca Nights. Now he models and sings catchy pop songs although he is threatened by newcomers, such as the popular Snoop Stepanov.

"Mr. Stepan Volkov, the great singer. I own a few of his albums, and he's got a good voice," Baturin added as he brought in a large pot of stew. "They say his popularity's waning, but the people still love him."

"So is he just going to sing for us?" snorted Lavanov, getting up to serve himself.

"Well, a charity benefit concert would certainly be something, wouldn't it?" Baturin replied, shooing Lavanov away and walking back to the kitchen.

"Two musical acts and one sporting man," frowned Churnyeav, biting a knuckle. "I don't like relying on any of them, but if you're serious about all of this I say we try and blackmail Bogdanov."

Nasarov remained curiously silent as Baturin returned with a second pot and gave his opinion. "Ah, I think we'd have our best chances with Mr. Volkov. He probably has a few tours left in him, and he could travel the country talking about our charity."

"You two think small, don't you?" Lavanov laughed as he peeked inside the second pot. "Why rescue one when we can get all three?"

"What are you talking about?" Churnyeav asked suspiciously.

"We are all well-supplied and have a nest of contacts we can poke around in, don't we?" answered the satirist without mocking. "If you are absolutely going to go through with this, then blackmail all of them! I certainly would get a higher commission for it."

"Always thinking about yourself, aren't you?" growled Nasarov, getting off the couch and walking towards the dinner table.

"Union-man, at least my goals coincide with yours," answered Lavanov with a smirk.

"These aren't my goals," spat Nasarov, losing patience.

Prokofiev, sensing trouble, set aside the dossiers. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, getting these celebrities to join us aren't my goals. They should not be our goals, Piotr," argued Nasarov, eyes blazing. "They should not be the goals of the Novistranan Coalition! Our goals are the people and the workers, not a bunch of overpaid, washed up fame-seekers!"

"Josef, I've told you once if I told you three times," Prokofiev tried to explain patiently. "I am only looking out for our interests by blackmailing these celebrities."

"You'd rather spend money and men combing over the life of three people rather than spending that money on those who need it the most," accused Nasarov, pointing at his old friend.

"That's not fair and you know it!" Prokofiev replied hotly. "The charity is-"

"The charity should not run on the money of what you keep calling the bourgeois elite!" railed Nasarov, walking up to Prokofiev. "Or did you forget that already? Are you one of them now?"

"Josef, don't you dare say that again," Prokofiev muttered audibly, darkly. He began to feel that old rage rising.

"Piotr, God as my witness," Nasarov paused for effect, raising a hand as if swearing upon a Bible, "I've stuck by your side because I thought you were going to bring change to this nation."

"And we are, Josef! Is it that hard to trust me?"

"You're changing, Piotr. Trusting you has been very hard lately." Nasarov's face softened in a mixture of pity and pleading. "Please, do not chase these celebrities. Don't do it. I'm begging you, as a comrade and a friend. Don't do this."

"I... I can't, Josef," Prokofiev answered, unable to look his friend in the eye and shaking his head. "We must march on and complete the charity. Father Baturin's idea was a good one. We've got to finish what we've started."

Nasarov's face hardened again, and he didn't speak right away. "I see. Fine. Go do it, then. Go to your rich, your famous, your bought-off allies. You protect these celebrities, and I swear it, Piotr, you'll regret it."

"Are you threatening me?" Prokofiev snapped, his guilt quickly converting to anger as he looked at his friend.

"It's been a long time coming, Piotr," Nasarov explained. "I came back after Churbanov. I stayed through the casino. I swallowed my bile at having to put up with Lavanov. But now? Is this what a man of the people is meant to do?"

"Josef..."

"Go ahead. Go protect those celebrities who you trust more than the unions," needled Nasarov, shoving Prokofiev's shoulder. "I'll turn to the people that matter. At least I haven't forgotten what it means to be a comrade."

Before Prokofiev could reply, Nasarov was already turning around and snapping his apron off the rack, then opening and closing the door behind him.

Nobody spoke for a few seconds, unsure of what to say or do. Then Prokofiev's face pulled back into bitter anger. "For fuck's sake! What is the matter with him?"

"I think union-man needs a little time-out, don't you?" Lavanov answered flatly. This caused Churnyeav to round on him, voice dripping with bile and wishing he could just wail on the satirist.

"Damn it, how in hell are you still not dead? Asshole!"

"Tch, I wasn't even talking to you," Lavanov said dismissively. This threw Churnyeav over the edge, but rather than charging forward like Prokofiev was expecting, Churnyeav stomped to the rack, ripping his jacked off the rack.

"Nasarov, wait!" he shouted into the night, slamming the door behind him.

"Oh, dear..." Baturin said with concern. He put his hands to his mouth, either praying or fearful of what was coming.

"Fuck 'em both!" snapped Prokofiev impatiently, impotently. "We don't have the time for this. Lavanov, go check out Hazard at the Grand Hotel. I'll go see about Volkov in Makevich Court. He's performing at the Grand Theater so I should be able to get Yuri Kempinov to help me."

"What about Mr. Bogdanov?" Baturin asked, unsure he should try Prokofiev's patience.

"I'll set Churnyeav on him," Prokofiev said, his voice now tinged with cold calculation rather than rage. "His military experience should be able to intimidate someone from the team to spill the beans."

"And..." hesitated Baturin, catching his breath before continuing, "what about Mr. Nasarov?"

"Josef... I..." Prokofiev began, his face twisting in worry and threatening to reveal sorrow. He looked down at the ground, rubbing his eyes on the crook of his arm. He looked up again with a blank face. "We'll have to worry about him later. Let's go."

* * *

Piotr Prokofiev's Diary - Seventy-eighth Entry: 23/03/1996

We've found the secrets that each celebrity was trying to hide.



Lavanov, apparently, had worked ahead of time and already dug the dirt on Hazard this afternoon. It seemed he knew that I was going to ask him to explore the Grand Hotel, so when he got back to me, he explained what I wanted to hear. Dieter Hazard was in the limelight before for outrageous parties and spending vast sums of money, but he apparently had cleaned up his act... until now, anyway. Lavanov got evidence that proves Hazard still lives up to his namesake and causes property damage on drug- and booze-filled binges in rave parties and big casinos.



I managed to rope in Churnyeav to do this job for me. He went after Bogdanov as if he were a bulldog, and uncovered just what we needed. Bogdanov's married life is a sham. He's trying to get away from his wife, possibly trying to divorce her in secret. The two hate each other immensely, and he likely cheats on her. The image of the "perfect couple" is a media stunt, but all of Bogdanov's endorsements for sportswear rely on his family-friendly, perfect-marriage appearance. Like Lavanov, Churnyeav got the evidence we need.



I checked out Stepan Volkov myself. The man sings, if you can call the screeching noises that come out of his throat singing. He has an atrocious voice, but his image is of Novistrana's Frank Sinatra. His live shows must all be mimed. I bet that if this came to light, his career as a singer would be destroyed.

We certainly have all the evidence we need to blackmail these men. Lavanov's idea of tagging all of them is very tempting. We certainly have the resources and the skills necessary to hide the evidence, and it would only take keeping myself, Father Baturin, and Lavanov overseeing the safe houses ourselves and keeping the media out. However, we only need one of these men, so I shouldn't be too concerned if the other two get exposed as frauds. And yet... getting all three to endorse us would make our charity extremely popular, and probably maintain it for years to come no matter what happens to me or to the nation. The people of Pugachev would love us.

But Josef... Josef. I'm getting horrible feelings of foreboding and I'm remembering what happened to us in Ekaterine. He is starting to stray from us because of what we've planned. If I lose him now, it will be disastrous... But our movement must survive. It must conquer Pugachev's heart. I must obtain a celebrity to endorse us, or all three to really make an impact. I cannot afford to spend time worrying about Josef. Not now.

* * *

Goon participation!

Our charity trust needs to grow stronger, and nothing's better than a little high-profile sponsorship from a well-known celebrity... even if we forced them to do our bidding because we know their career-destroying secret. Despite Nasarov's displeasure at taking the money and running, we're going through with it. The plan is to pull a dirty one and give the media a little anonymous tip that would make tabloids jealous, and then we're going to graciously offer that unlucky celebrity a place to hide from the papers. Your task is simple: choose whose celebrity's skin we blackmail, and then save.

Novistranan Coalition Dossier - Danilov Bogdanov: Celebrity

Bogdanov is the darling of Novistrana. The captain of the national football team is rich, successful and has a beautiful wife. Together they have courted the media and now the country hangs on their every word, hungering for more details about this fairy-tale couple.
Bognadov is on the run from his wife. Their perfect celebrity couple image is a media stunt, and his endorsements rely on this image.

Novistranan Coalition Dossier - Dieter Hazard: Celebrity

Dieter Hazard is one half of the well-known dance group Hazard Bros. They have traveled the globe entertaining at all the big clubs and festivals. His brother is something of a recluse, preferring instead to stay in the studio, creating their unique techno music.
This superstar DJ suffers from some rock-'n'-roll excess. He spends large sums of money on gambling and holds weekend-long party binges.

Novistranan Coalition Dossier - Stepan Volkov: Celebrity

Stepan Volkov rose to fame after starring in Sorroca Nights. Now he models and sings catchy pop songs although he is threatened by newcomers, such as the popular Snoop Stepanov.
Volkov's real singing voice is on par with Novistranan Idol contestants. All of his live shows are mimed and lip-synched.

BONUS FOURTH OPTION: Blackmail and save all of them! With our current line-up and skills in misdirection, it's actually possible to blackmail and save all three celebrities at the same time with tremendous ease. Helping all of them nets us a huge bonus and makes our charity very, very popular indeed...

So, who do we pull a fast one on? Choose wisely...