Felix Yusupov, Saint Petersburg, 3rd of January, 1936
"The President is dead."
"Saw that coming."
"What?"
Dmitri Pavlovich smiled. It was somewhere between a wolf's and a shark's. "There are at least 10,000 Bolsheviks out there demanding that all the syndicalists in the Duma band together in some big coalition. There are more every hour. Marshal Wrangel gave me a call asking if I would support him should he 'act to preserve Russian stability'. I would bet Kornilov is planning something too, if I was a betting man. It appears the great syndicalist President is finally dead."
Felix Yusupov's mouth hung open. "It's really that bad? I thought-"
"Don't think Felix. You'll just give yourself a headache," Dmitri said, with only the slightest brushing of condescension in his voice. He stood from the small desk that was offered the Speaker of the Senate and headed for the door. The Speaker's office was small, almost as small as a normal senator's, something Dmitri always complained about. "Come on. We'll be needed in the Senate."
Felix blubbered for a few moments as Dmitri walked past him, aghast, but finally managed to get some words out, "To the senate? Why? They'll all be coming for us Dmitri. The Bolsheviks in the Duma, whichever general takes over, it doesn't matter. We need to flee!"
Dmitri laughed a small laugh, and turned back to Felix, "Old friend, when you convinced me to flee in 1917, you insisted that the Bolsheviks were bound to win and kill us all. But they didn't, did they? Their defeat was inevitable, their revolution a flight of fancy. Yet you insisted we run."
Thinking back, Felix recalled that it was Dmitri who insisted they run all those years ago. I must be miss-remembering it he decided, and didn't say anything about it. "Even disregarding the Bolsheviks, what about Wrangel Kornilov? If they try to launch a coup-"
"Wrangel is more interested in keeping Russia stable than his own power. His call to me is proof of that. And Kornilov is an opportunist, at best. He'll lie low until he gets another chance. Now come on Felix, let's go."
"Another chance?" Felix asked, struggling to keep up with his friend as they walked through the ill-lit halls of the capitol. "Why would he waste this chance?"
"Tsk tsk Felix, you really have no brain, do you?" Dmitri chided, "The President is dead. That means the senate has to elect a new president. The senate is stacked with conservatives and monarchists, along with a bare handful of syndicalists. Not only am I Speaker of the Senate, but I am also an established man of quality, an exceptional businessman, and a loyal patriot of Russia. Who do you think they'll chose?"
As the truth of the matter slowly dawned on him, a smile came over Felix's face. "You're going to be President."
"Exactly," Dmitri smiled as he came to the doors of the Senate, nodding to the guards standing there, "Mark the day Felix. Today is the day we start restoring Russian greatness."
Felix could not hold back a smile as they entered. His oldest friend was going to be the President of Russia. Just imagine the opportunities...
"The President is dead."
"Saw that coming."
"What?"
Dmitri Pavlovich smiled. It was somewhere between a wolf's and a shark's. "There are at least 10,000 Bolsheviks out there demanding that all the syndicalists in the Duma band together in some big coalition. There are more every hour. Marshal Wrangel gave me a call asking if I would support him should he 'act to preserve Russian stability'. I would bet Kornilov is planning something too, if I was a betting man. It appears the great syndicalist President is finally dead."
Felix Yusupov's mouth hung open. "It's really that bad? I thought-"
"Don't think Felix. You'll just give yourself a headache," Dmitri said, with only the slightest brushing of condescension in his voice. He stood from the small desk that was offered the Speaker of the Senate and headed for the door. The Speaker's office was small, almost as small as a normal senator's, something Dmitri always complained about. "Come on. We'll be needed in the Senate."
Felix blubbered for a few moments as Dmitri walked past him, aghast, but finally managed to get some words out, "To the senate? Why? They'll all be coming for us Dmitri. The Bolsheviks in the Duma, whichever general takes over, it doesn't matter. We need to flee!"
Dmitri laughed a small laugh, and turned back to Felix, "Old friend, when you convinced me to flee in 1917, you insisted that the Bolsheviks were bound to win and kill us all. But they didn't, did they? Their defeat was inevitable, their revolution a flight of fancy. Yet you insisted we run."
Thinking back, Felix recalled that it was Dmitri who insisted they run all those years ago. I must be miss-remembering it he decided, and didn't say anything about it. "Even disregarding the Bolsheviks, what about Wrangel Kornilov? If they try to launch a coup-"
"Wrangel is more interested in keeping Russia stable than his own power. His call to me is proof of that. And Kornilov is an opportunist, at best. He'll lie low until he gets another chance. Now come on Felix, let's go."
"Another chance?" Felix asked, struggling to keep up with his friend as they walked through the ill-lit halls of the capitol. "Why would he waste this chance?"
"Tsk tsk Felix, you really have no brain, do you?" Dmitri chided, "The President is dead. That means the senate has to elect a new president. The senate is stacked with conservatives and monarchists, along with a bare handful of syndicalists. Not only am I Speaker of the Senate, but I am also an established man of quality, an exceptional businessman, and a loyal patriot of Russia. Who do you think they'll chose?"
As the truth of the matter slowly dawned on him, a smile came over Felix's face. "You're going to be President."
"Exactly," Dmitri smiled as he came to the doors of the Senate, nodding to the guards standing there, "Mark the day Felix. Today is the day we start restoring Russian greatness."
Felix could not hold back a smile as they entered. His oldest friend was going to be the President of Russia. Just imagine the opportunities...
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