" Stdastvoijtche"

"Uhm, hello. Is Mr Berezovskij home?"

"That’s me" a very clear voice said.

"My name is Alexander Jameson. I’m calling because of an article you wrote two years ago"

"Two years ago! Look, I don’t write anymore…"

"I know that, it’s just that it’s very important, and I just have a few questions"

"Which article?"

"An article about the explosion outside Danzig" Nick said and waited. He heard Vladimir breath heavily.

"What about it?" he finally asked.

"I have met some people who were a part of it all, but I lost contact with them, and I’d like to know more of what happened"

"You shouldn’t dig in this, young man. Nothing good comes out of it"

"Why do you say that?" Nick asked. The man laughed, a short hard laugh.

"If you could look at me, then you would know" Vladimir said. Nick didn’t understand a thing. Then it dawned to him.

"What happened to you?" he finally asked.

"If I tell you, can you promise to never tell anyone else?"

"Yes"

"Then I’ll tell you. They came in the middle of the night, armed to the teeth. They brought me in for a questioning. Do you know what that means in Russia? No? It means that you will either die, or live the rest of your life in fear. They decided that I should live. I wish they had killed me instead"

Vladimir Berezovskij finished. He had said more words to this young American than he had spoke the last two years. Suddenly he got scared. What if they found out?

Nick didn’t know what to say.

"I’m sorry" he finally said.

"Yes, so am I. When they brought me in, I didn’t know what I had done wrong, all I knew was that I was scared for my life. They questioned me for 20 hours. When I didn’t say what they wanted me to say, they tortured me. Do you want to know what I look like now? They broke my legs, so I can’t walk, because they left me in a cell for three days without medical care. They poured acid in my face, so I look like an old man. I am 43, but look like 90. They confiscated all my belongings and made me loose my job. I am nothing now. I don’t have a job, I don’t have any friends, all I do is sit home and feel sorry for myself. And all this because of the article!" he yelled. Nick felt so sorry for him. Vladimir had done only one mistake, but he had to pay for it the rest of his life. Before he had the chance to speak again, the man continued.

"Is this important for you"

"Yes sir, it is"

"In what way? No, wait a minute, don’t tell me. I will help you"

"You will? But how, do you know"

"I know a lot about this. I will send my material to you, via e-mail. I am good with computers, and they can’t control my e-mail"

"Thank you. I don’t know what to say"

"Just give me your e-mail and I will send my material over to you"

"You said your name was Alexander"

"I…"

"Doesn’t matter. I will send it as soon as I have ended this conversation"

"I can’t thank you enough. This is very important to me"

"I understand that. I have to ask you not to spread the information I’m about to give you. It’s important that it doesn’t end up in wrong hands"

"It won’t"

"Good bye, Alexander Jameson"

"Good bye"