Kazyenko Independence Tower
Some Months Prior
“We have a lot riding on this… no pun intended,” The Premier declared at the head of the mahogany conference table, glancing over his shoulder quickly as an image of a horseback rider appeared and disappeared overhead in the same instant.
At the other end of the room, a nervous looking aide rapidly flipped through a notebook as sweat visibly poured down her neck. Stuck precariously just above her breast was a name tag which read “Tatiana,” underscored by a single terrifying word: “Intern.”
“Falkasia is traditionally a powerhouse of winter sports, but I have proposed that we consider other options. With one corner of the world’s sports clearly under wraps in our end of the field, it’s time to do what all the best business leaders in the world do and…” he paused, waiting for the clearly overwhelmed intern to flip the slide.
“Diversify!” He announced with incredibly fake enthusiasm, motioning to the enormous single-word slide behind him without so much as looking. “We need to diversify our sports ventures! Granted, we have many fine athletes here in Falkasia who partake in sports outside of the normal scope of international competition… mind you, exclusively winter sports. But there are many who engage in running, swimming, gymnastics, and field events who deserve a shot on a truly global stage.”
He paused, clearing his throat slightly and sipping from a glass of water.
“Therefore, it is with great pleasure that I propose a doubling of Falkasia’s national sports budget to accommodate the creation of permanent team and training facilities for both winter and summer Olympics. And who will lead this endeavor, you may ask? I have selected none other than Dimitri Romanov, who by and far has the most experience of all of us having led the Falkasian contingent to both of the previous Winter Olympics. There may not be any snow in summer, but he sure will freeze out the competition.”
With a single, unceremonious click the projector hit the last slide and the room was suddenly bathed in ambient blue electric light. Vladimir shrugged and walked around the side of the table towards a row of empty chairs.
“So, what did you think of the presentation Mr. Romanov? Are you interested?”
The chair rotated, revealing a rather poorly photoshopped cut-out of the Olympic Bobsledder’s face duct taped to the seat back. It was clear from the image that he was not in the best of moods when the picture was taken, hallmarked by squinted, beady eyes and a heavily furrowed brow.
“What was that?” The Premier asked the picture. “You accept the position? That’s excellent! We’ll get your new office set up at once here in the Tower, while we begin searching for a suitable location to house the training facilities.”
Tatiana appeared silently behind him, notebook clenched firmly across her chest underneath white knuckles.
“Excellent presentation sir. The Ministers will be easily persuaded by your charm and charisma,” she spat out robotically.
“Thank you…” Vlad glanced down, trying to catch a glimpse of her name tag without making the obvious any more obvious than it already was, “Svetlana?”
“Yes sir. Happy to help sir.” She replied immediately, making no effort to correct him.
“Very good then,” he shrugged and sighed dismissively. “Now, let’s go get the real thing done in the next room over. Please make sure you have the slides in order this time.”
[RP Courtesy of Falkasia]
