Seawolf Class

Начало книги

Fireworks lit the night, a stuttering, popping, thunderous display of light and color flashing and strobing across the sky to the southwest. Vasili Andreevitch Mikhailin sat on the veranda of the main embassy building with his guest, sipping strong black tea and pretending to admire the celestial spectacle. The portly man sitting to his left, Admiral Li Guofeng, was all smiles and camaraderie, but Mikhailin didn't trust him further than he could throw him. Given their respective differences in size, he thought wryly, that was not very far at all.

"A new age beginning, Comrade Mikhailin," Li said in badly accented Russian, raising his own cup in a toast. "To our business partnership, and to our glorious future!"

"To our future," Mikhailin replied, but with an enthusiasm he could not feel. He did not point out that Li's continued use of the honorific "Comrade" was not only dated, but in decidedly poor taste. Didn't this fool know, wasn't he aware, that the world had changed?

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