Touchdown

I was met by some military types as I struggled down off the plane who saluted in unison. Which was nice. I gave a little wave to the female soldiers who made up the left line of my escort towards the waiting vehicle, ignored the males, then clambered inside.

As the limousine pulled away, complete with police motorcycle outriders, I sat facing the other two occupants. A pudgy faced nervous looking man who was sweating profusely said something in a language that I classed as “foreign”. However this was quickly interpreted by a petite woman to his right who looked at the floor as she spoke. I ignored him and looked straight at her, seemingly forcing her to avert her gaze. As a result I stared openly at her tits as we drove.“It is an honor to meet you Sir. It is indeed a great honor for Ruritania to host someone as important as yourself”.

“Thank you”, I said barely listening.

The double act went on to describe facilities and that I would be shown the greatest hospitality the world has ever known. I would not regret doing business with the Peoples republic of Ruritania.

Ruritania is a splinter state, of a splinter state of a state that splintered from the Soviet Union when it fell. Its tiny and has very little going for it. Nothing worth seeing for tourists and fuck all resources. It did however have a sizable population and not very much cash. This was where I came in. I may not be the richest guy in the world. Hell, I barely make it into the top 10, but I do ok.

I occasionally do a little mental sum when it comes to these smaller states and provinces around the world, comparing their GDP (ie what the entire country earns), compared to me. In the case of Ruritania, I win by quite a large margin. I admit I have wondered a few times what it would be like to own my own country.

In fact, I had not completely agreed that I would do business with them at all. This was supposed to just be an exploratory visit, although I was pretty confident I would invest. I buy government debt. Its what I do. I have made multiple fortunes at this. Sensible states will sell me bonds (ie borrow money from me), but with the promise of a very low interest rate. I take some of that as there’s no risk. The USA would have to go out of existence for me to lose my money there. However with basket case countries (such as Ruritania), their existential risk is much higher, so the interest rates they pay me for a loan is similarly higher. I stood to make quite a lot of money if I loaned Ruritania anything as long as they stayed in existence. I had assessed this though, and it wasn’t so risky as it first appeared, precisely because its got nothing going for it. There is absolutely no-one interested in conquering or colonizing this place. Its not worth the hassle. Up until recently Russia had been subsidizing the place but it seemed to have decided there was little point now and had stopped funding it at all. Hence the panicked communication to extremely wealthy venture capitalists, such as me.

I expect I was the only one that showed any interest.

As the car drove on, I gazed absently at the translator. Her uniform suggested military, and she spoke with that Eastern European manner that almost sounded like she was talking around a cock in her mouth.

“and as you have an appointment with the ministry of finance tomorrow, we wondered if you would like to rest or whether we could use this opportunity to entertain you in a manner befitting our great nation.

Great was stretching it a bit. However, I recalled my ill-advised post-wank nap on the plane and I wasn’t particularly tired. What I didn't fancy was some sort of stuck up function where I would be expected to eat with the local dignitariess and use the right cutlery to stab whatever small animals they might serve me.

“Could I go for a beer somewhere?” I enquired.

“Certainly sir. Anything you want to do here in Ruritania you may do”, said the translator, and in a moment the limousine had changed direction.

Anything? I snorted to myself and stared straight at her breasts behind her starched white blouse. I'd best not test that right now I thought.

Sooner than expected, the car pulled up at what appeared to be a fairly seedy looking bar. This surprised me. I had expected some clinical soulless hotel cocktail lounge. The motorcycle cops dismounted and took up guard positions outside it, and the official and translator eagerly got out ahead of me to escort me to the bar.

“I’ll just go in myself if that's ok with you two”. I said, considering that maybe a solitary beer would be better than having that official watching my every move. I thought about maybe bringing the interpreter in too, but even though I could maybe have gotten somewhere with her, it felt like too much effort. I figured I would just take my chances in the bar and have a couple of beers. Hell, maybe there was a game on that I could watch.

I opened the doors to the pub and almost stumbled at the site ahead of me. I gasped. What the Fudge!?!