Chapter Five

To Russia With Love

The familiar sound of china crashing to the floor, the clanging sound of the sliver platter and the words, "Vladmir!" could be heard echoing throughout the Moscow Mansion.

Dressed in his red velvet smoking jacket and sitting in his favorite chair was Vladmir Mironov. In one hand he held the morning paper, and in the other was a glass of fine cognac. Without taking his eyes away from reading the international headlines, he shouted, "What is it now LyubImaya moyA (my sweetheart)?"

"Vladmir," replied a tall, blonde, and blue-eyed woman, slightly out of breath, "I am seek ont tired of dat crap ve coll escargot. If I hov to even look at vun more piece I vill trow up!" She turned around to exit the room, but not before adding in her thick Swedish accent, "Ont I am seek ont tired of chasing you like some slave gurl. Next time git yur fat ass off my chair ont do somsing about dis!"

"Ya dU-ma-yu o te-bE deni noch angel moy (I think of you night and day my angel)," Vladmir calmly responded as he turned the page of his newspaper.

"Humph!" Vanja Vilhelm stormed out of the room displeased with Vladmir's usual response to her regular morning hissy fits.

Deeply engrossed with reading the international news, Vladmir stated out loud, "Pigs!"

"Yes my brother, women are a lot like pigs," added Vladmir's younger brother Nikolai.

"Not women you idiot! Americans! Americans with their disgusting greed. Ever since the cold war, I have wanted to squish them like a bug under my thumb. Hahahah!" Vladmir laughed. For a man in his early forties, he looked remarkably youthful. His head still held all of his wheat colored hair, and his shrewd blue eyes revealed the pains he had suffered in his early years while living here in his mother country, Russia.

"When do we take care of them?" Nikolai eagerly asked.

"Soon my faithful brother. Very soon," Vladmir's eyes glazed over for a moment, a distant look about them.

Ever since the Americans had defeated Russia in the cold war, Russia suffered tremendously. To Vladmir, it was all because of the Americans. The more they prospered and Russia suffered, the more he despised them, until it became like a poison in his system. He vowed to himself and to his brothers that Americans would pay for what they did to his beloved country. He would show them. Humiliation was now one of his objectives, and of course, complete destruction.