As Otto and the President walked, the new guards formed a security cordon around her. A few onlookers tried to observe, but the President’s entourage shooed them away.
“Ok. So if this isn’t the D-6, is this an extension of the Moscow metro? What line is this?”
“Madam, the D-6 is real… but rather unspectacular. Unlike…”
“Unlike?”
“Rossiya-2 or R2”
“There is an R2?”
“Yes.”
“My head is spinning.”
“Of course Madam, totally understandable… this way please, Madam I present to you the Express One.”
They stood in front of a sexy streamlined, fast looking train, whose livery beautifully complemented the Russian flag.
“Express One — The Presidential Train. Trust me Madam, this is sort of the train’s maiden journey.”
“No one’s ever ridden it?”
“It’s been waiting for you.”
“Aww.”
As Otto and the President strapped in, a group of stewardesses buzzed around efficiently. They offered everything from caviar to king crabs.
“Alright Otto, shoot,” ordered Petrova.
“Ya like I said, the D-6 exists, but it’s just a glorified taxi service for the FSB brass… ill planned, underutilized.”
“Well I will add it to my agenda. So whats up with your Rossiya-2 or R2 is this some secret metro below the D-6 built by Beria and Yezhov?”
“Not those buffoons Madam. No way. Haha, Beria… what an excuse for a security chief. No, this train, this station, this network is bigger than anything you can imagine.”
“Bigger than the D-6?”
“Think Bigger…”
“Bigger than the Moscow Metro and D6 put together?”
“Bigger.”
“Shanghai Metro?”
“Try even bigger.”
“Otto you are nice and all. But I am getting a little tired of your antics. Its 3AM, well past my nappy time …”
“Madam, I got three words.”
“Hurry the fuck up.”
“
“
As the stunned President was bombarded with reiterations on the scale of this secret railway, the maglev train chugged out of the Kremlin Station.
Its cruising speed was a cool 1941 Km/hr on the long and sexy maglev tracks. As they exited the station the cabin began to fill with brilliant sunlight. The sudden change in lumens forced Anna Petrova to swivel away from the bragging Otto. One second it seemed like the eastern suburbs of Moscow and the next they were whizzing past the glorious Russian country side. Gentle rolling fields… on both sides.
“Oh that’s beautiful… Otto… Hey wait, I thought we were underground, plus it’s just 3 in the morning… What the fuck?”
“Ah it’s just an illusion, Madam. All our trains are super long and the little ones tend to get bored. So we tiled our tunnels with giant LCDs.”
“Oh boy. Oh boy…” President Petrova was afraid to ask the obvious question. “Where is this ‘all the way’?”
“Muhahaha. V to the L to the A to the D, to the I… wait to the O to the T to the … wait V–L-A-D-I–V-” Otto was a terrible rapper.
“Vladivostok, so the entire
“There you go, Madam,” Otto grinned like proud pug.
“All the way to Vladivostok? So how long does this thing take?
“About eight hours tops. But this being the Express One, we should do it in seven forty five.”
“I don’t know what to say,” admitted the completely bamboozled President. She downed a vodka shot, closed her eyes and shook her head in an effort to wake up from this nightmare.
When she reopened her eyes, the President saw the conniving dick Otto, the obsequious attendants and the historic downtown of Nizhny Novgorod.
“Are we already at Nizhny? Was that the fucking Novgorod Kremlin?” Nizhny Novgorod the once super-secret closed Soviet city was five hundred Kms east of Moscow and most
“Madam, maybe we should invite the pilot for a drink. He is doing a fine job and I’m sure it would be a great honor for him to meet his President for the first time.”
“I appreciate your offer. But no. I think I am going to be sick.”
Otto clapped at a stewardess and ordered some honeyed lemon tea to suppress the rebellion in Anna’s gut. “Don’t worry Ms. President we’ll Tiananmen the shit out of it.”
A bad commie joke? Ughh. Otto had tipped the rebellion and lost.
Anna Petrova rushed to the restroom as a deferential stewardess held the door. One moment the President was trying to quell some half masticated caviar and the next she found herself falling into an untamed Volga. The President screamed as she fell headfirst into the Russian river…
At about a meter from impact, the tumbling President caught herself and cursed these freak shows for going overboard with their damned LEDs and LCDs. The restroom’s floor was one massive LED screen that made these Under-Russians seem like the South Koreans of the Korean peninsula. After some frantic searching, Anna Petrova finally unloaded onto the correct basin… which was a shaped like a hydroelectric dam…
