Volodin spoke first, because Volodin always spoke first. While she was still close in his grasp he said, “Miss Molchanova, you are looking more beautiful than ever.” Her blush had been painted on, but she flitted her long eyelashes and looked down with a wide smile. She felt his attraction to her, though there used to be some actual urges behind the sixty-two-year-old man’s words, and those seemed to have disappeared.
It was the stress of the job, she assumed.
“You are too kind, Mr. President.”
She started to escort him to his chair, but he held her tight for a moment more. “You will ask me how I can ensure the safety of our sons and daughters serving in the military when traveling into Kaliningrad Oblast. Let’s not get distracted by attention-grabbing headlines and salacious events. The main issue is Lithuania.”
He had given her hints in the past, directions for the interview, so she was not surprised.
“Of course.”
Nor was she surprised when he went further with his stage-managing of the interview.
“But not directly. We will come to it slowly. We’ll deal with the accident in the Baltic first, then the attack on the train.”
“Medlenno, da. Ya ponimayu.” Slowly, yes. I understand.
“Khorosho,” he replied with a thin smile. Good.
A producer wired the president with a microphone as he sat down, and then everyone sat awkwardly for a few moments, waiting to go live. Molchanova noticed Volodin fidgeting more than normal, but she averted her eyes, pretending to look down at the cards that held the same remarks and questions that would be broadcast on the teleprompter under the camera in seconds.
Mercifully, as far as she was concerned, they went live quickly. She sensed Volodin’s fidgeting stop suddenly on her left as she began to read the opening that she’d demanded be softened to spare her any icy response from the president.
“Mr. President, thank you so much for agreeing to speak with us today, as I know this must be a busy time for you.”
Volodin smiled. “It is my pleasure, but frankly, I have been busy since I first entered government service forty years ago. These days are consistent with what I have experienced for a long time.”
“Let me begin by asking you your thoughts of this morning’s apparent midair collision between a Russian aircraft and a Swedish aircraft.”
Volodin nodded; he was ready with his spin. “Of course it goes without saying, I regret all loss of life in this incident. In this regard I am unlike President Jack Ryan of the United States, who quickly ran to the first lectern he could find with a microphone on it and passionately decried the deaths of two hundred ninety-eight people, omitting the eleven on the Russian military transport aircraft. I find it telling that the American President can be so flippant by conveniently forgetting about the deaths of Russians, whose lives clearly hold no value to him.
“I will also add that the Russian aircraft was flying a legal flight in international airspace over the Baltic Sea. It had every right to be where it was and do what it was doing. It was the Swedish flight that had gone astray, though the Western media will make no mention of this.
“As our great military has taken to international waters and international skies, the West has reacted with fear and anger, and they have resorted to reprisals. This has been coming for a long time, and I have predicted something just like this would occur.
“The unfortunate souls on the Swedish airliner were pawns in the West’s game to pressure the Russian Federation to stay crouched and compliant within its own borders. The aircraft was sent off course by Swedish air traffic control under orders from the Swedish government, who in turn was taking its cues from the United States of America and Great Britain. It was their plan to create a provocative situation, a near miss, so they could use this as propaganda against Russia’s legal military maneuvers around the world.
“I truly hope nothing like this ever happens again, but to ensure this, I call on the governments of the West to stop their aggressive behavior in peaceful international skies.” He looked into the camera. “Russia rejects your detestable premise that we are not allowed to engage with the rest of planet earth. We have as much authority to go places and do things as the West does, and we will never surrender our right of self-determination to those who would keep all Russians boarded behind fences and walls.”
And that was that. Molchanova saw a restlessness in Volodin’s eyes and mannerisms that told her he was ready to move away from this subject.
She thumbed through her cards deftly, omitting some follow-up questions about the crash. Then she said, “Even before the accident of the two aircraft, Mr. President, there were other recent events, all in the Baltic region, that seem to have the world on edge.”
Volodin held a finger up and quickly leaned forward, a blast of energy. Molchanova was used to his mannerisms, so she did not flinch the way many foreign journalists did when interviewing the Russian president. “You put it magnificently, Tatiana Sergeyevna. You said they ‘seem’ to be on edge. And I am sure the simple population of many of these countries are genuinely horrified by the quickening of events there, but I ask them all to take care and say to themselves… Does this seem natural? A plane crash in the Baltic Sea, an attack in Lithuania on a train, on a natural gas facility? All in the same month? No, of course there is nothing natural to this all. This is well orchestrated.”
“By whom, Mr. President?”
“By the West. It is known by our intelligence services that the West feels their power waning over the nations that border the Russian Federation. A region we refer to as the ‘near abroad.’ Jack Ryan, the EU, NATO: They all want to surround Russia with their client states. Subservient governments who do the bidding of the cabal of countries who don’t share Russia’s strategic, economic, and national interests.
“The attack on the natural gas facility. Done by environmentalists? I am suspicious of this. The attack on the Russian military transportation train. Perpetrated by a little-known Polish paramilitary unit? I think this highly unlikely.”
“If you reject the official findings, Mr. President, who do you think was involved?”
“We Russians can point fingers at specific groups, actors, and states, but we would do well to get away from this, because we have one adversary. The West. Whether these were the actions of the CIA, the British MI6, Central European groups working on the behalf of America, or anyone else hardly matters any longer. Russia is under threat from a broad coalition of aggressive, hostile nations. Our safety and security threaten them for some reason, our love for our country and our customs and our desire for prosperity only enrage them. I find it sad to say this, but the evidence is clear. They are, simply put, enemies of the Russian Federation.”
Molchanova nodded thoughtfully and turned her head away from the president and back to the viewers at home, if only to read the next question on the teleprompter.
She said, “The United States has reacted with anger after claiming a Russian Borei-class ballistic missile submarine is now crossing the Atlantic Ocean toward its shores. Is there anything you would like to say to respond to the allegations?”
Volodin shrugged with an easy smile. “If you like, I’d be happy to respond.” Molchanova marveled at how completely he’d been able to morph himself from the man beset with nervous energy he’d been moments before the camera turned on to the calm, clever, and supremely self-assured chief executive he appeared to be now.
When he did not, in fact, respond, Molchanova cleared her throat. “And what is your response, Mr. President?”