The Voykovsky files

By Jonas S Lundberg

George Lunden thinks he has an ordinary sometimes stressful life. His life along with the two people closest to him are about to get thrown on an international chase for their lives. Through this book you will get a sense of hard learned life lessons and journeys through North America, West Africa, Belgium, Spain, Finland and Russia and many different airplanes. If you love flying, adventure and different countries then this book is quite probably for you. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishdrive
• Release date: Dec 26, 2019

Book preview

Jonas S Lundberg

The Voykovsky files

the journeys

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2019 by Jonas Salenius-Lundberg

February

On this early evening, It rained freezing sleet against the windows of Smedley & Nixon-Reading asset management, high up on the 37th floor of this lower Manhattan high-rise. This evening not untypical for February. I was looking out of the windows, past my colleagues and the paper cups of coffee and bottles of water lined up on the glass table, hoping our weekly wrap-up meeting would come to an end this Friday late afternoon. As Simon Smedley was in a lengthy conversation with Russell Reading-Nixon, the other co-founder of the company, I was wondering why they did not have the courtesy to have the discussion about a large purchase of private residential apartments in Hungary with asset managers dealing what market. My market was domestic, mostly US east-coast real estate. Simon was pacing up and down the long side of the table, then he walked around it a couple of times. He used to do this at meetings. It is his way of feeling superior, to try to compensate for actually being a very unappealing man, in more aspects than one.  Both him and Russell were divorced, no surprised there as they as recently as yesterday late evening had hookers and cocaine in this very meeting room. Everyone knew it, they even boasted about it. The both also really liked meetings, and they especially like to start them on late Friday afternoons and run them for an hour sometimes two you never could tell.  To combat boredom, I went over, in my mind, how I would proceed once I got out of this meeting from the start until the end at the home. Home, the new house I had just bought at Sands Point, Long Island after I met Natasha, and she convinced me my one bedroom apartment across the river in Brooklyn was not suited for someone like us when I made close to a million in commission during my three years as a high-end commercial real estate capital broker.

My thoughts were now on all the things I had yet to get done and buy for the house, a nice four bedroom modern built with large floor to ceiling glass windows. The furniture along cost more than my parent's first house. Natasha is of the more demanding type. The daughter of a Russian mother and Slovenian father. We met at the Reading-Nixon & Smedley Hampton's summer weekend party in the summer of 2015. She joined the party as a friend of New York socialite Susan Danzcianc who's husband, more than twice her age,  Alfred Danzcianc had provided the start-up capital for Russell and Simon's first reality investment business in 1989 after the pair had graduated from university. As the story goes, back when Russell and Simon started then they actually intended to operate an honest business. Alfred has always been playing by the book, honesty and integrity have always been key to him and at age 104 he shows no signs of not being of reduced mental or much physical capacity. Whilst it could be suggested that Alfred had a weakness in a desire  for women who tended to be a lot younger than him, in his defense his age pool is considered rather small. And unless proven otherwise he has never had any indiscretions. Alfred was born in Mallorca, Spain. His family had come over to the United States to school in America and live with his uncle who had moved there at the turn of the century. The family has a history of moving around the world with Alfred's father from Albania who had moved to Mallorca to work as an Orange picker where he met Alfred's mother and they eventually bought vineyard to produce quality wine. He was always very handsome and healthy, his looks did not deteriorate much with advancing age but saw himself as a grand exquisite bottle of 1913 Mallorca red wine his father had saved from the year he was born and the second seasons wine from the family wine business. Although his parents had expected him to marry and carry the name further he never actually did during their lifetime until he married Susan in 1988, a fiery beautiful young financial analyst who one of his managers had employed as an accounts assistant. They have a child, a daughter , Olivia, 27 who is absolutely stunning. Susan was very good at her job though she left the accounts assistant position and started a fashion magazine in 1993, initially running from the floor above her husband's company, then it moved in 1996 to a half of a floor in a building in Times Square where it has remained ever since. Susan's eye for detail and talent which would bring fruit was faultless. Natasha's parents had submitted her portfolio to some agencies in Paris and Berlin hoping to get jobs there as a junior teen model. Instead, Natasha was picked after Susan had herself found Natasha's photo on a closed Internet news group syndicated by an International agency, headquartered in Berlin, which had Natasha on file. The magazine had been contracted to do a Dior young teen collection for winter 93/94. This was just a week after her office got Internet access, which was still not that common, upcoming technology in 1993. Susan worked with a number of international agencies, one of her main suppliers of models was a then newly set up agency based in Moscow which did a good deal of clothing collection shoots for her magazine. Natasha had signed up with the agency as her college classmate had successfully had landed a Russian billboard campaign for MTS cellular. After some years of non-work, when Natasha was focusing on her schooling, once she had come of age she was sponsored to come to New York and work for a close friend of Susan at FIM-NY Inc; Fashion International Models of New York.

Alfred himself had worked with Wall Street most of his life, successfully navigating through the 1929 stock market crash, the Great   Depression , WW2, comforting his brother after the loss of both of the brother's sons in the early days of the Vietnam war. He worked with the Trumps (father and son) and then, in 1981 he started a venture capital firm, Danzcianc ventures Inc. The company, along with Alfred's executive office, where he spent most of his  time, was located on the 76th floor in the North Tower of the World Trade Center until 9/11/2001. On that fateful day, Alfred was at home in the Hamptons recovering from successful prostate cancer surgery. At home, he had a good portion of the office staff around him as he never stopped working.

Natasha came over to the United States directly from Russia in 2002 on a talent visa to work as a fashion model. She was always successful in getting her contracts and subsequent U.S. Visas renewed and in late 2007 she was considering naturalization but did a 2 years in Paris modeling and was considering living there. In 2011 She was back in New York city again on an O-Visa that time, still modeling. Fast forward to 2015 I felt I had no choice but to fall for this deeply seductive and beautiful woman 2 years my older than myself. She had had one previous relations with with an advertising executive for one of the New York based Magazines she was modeling for. At age 36 it was time for me to meet someone. Apart from the physical attraction, I grew to like her. If I had not met her I would probably live in that small apartment; for me it was a good bachelor pad, in upper Manhattan, within a few minutes walking distance to the number 4,5 and 6 trains. My two young brothers were both married with kids. It was time for me to bring some family of my own to my parents Christmas. My parents were not that into festive things and family gathering, except for Christmas. All families  are expected to arrive at my parent's house on the outskirts of Quincy, Massachusetts and stay through New Year's day. Natasha came with me to the recent family Christmas. My parents love her and I keep that in mind whenever she gives me a hard time.  

Jonathan!

Simon interrupted me as I had just remembered I was to stop by Prada on 5th avenue to pick up a new handbag for Natasha from the ‘French laced edition’.  

So you are all set for the trip tonight?

Where? I stumbled as if I had just woken up from a deep sleep.

As we discussed, whilst you were in some sort of mini coma or whatever you were doing: Los Angeles. We need you for the bidding for space at the Ivar Towers, it is a new office high rise in Hollywood. You know LA best of everyone here, you did work on the Yucca racecourse at Glendale last year. You have to go. Russell and I will be busy on the Budapest deal and we have our Russian co-owners, Sergei and Ivan over here from  tomorrow until next week. Russell scribbled max $30 million p/f on a post-it and stuck on a printed letter sized sheet which he handed to me. Don’t go over $30 million per floor. We need at least five floors in that complex, try to get 10. With one hand I typed a text message to Natasha that I was sorry but had to go to LA, and with the other hand on the laptop to get google flights.

Russell went over to me, closed my laptop lid and told me to just go to the airport, telling me that we don't have to search for cheap deals, just go and fork out the Corporate Amex they've provided me with and get on a plane.

Simon leaned over me at the table with his fingers laced with doughnut residue making an imprint on the thick glass table, I could smell the cigar smoke left lingering in his clothes. He told me that I had to be there for the Monday 10 am. bidding and I had to get on the last flight out tonight at 9pm to get myself set up to ensure I would be there well on-time. Meanwhile, my phone buzzed, Natasha had just replied with what?? I had to tell her this is my job and what pays for all the things but I the thought of confrontation right now would be one stress I don't need. I messaged her back that I would promise to pick up her bag at Prada.

Okay I forgive you, just get my bag, they close in half an hour and today is the last day they can hold it. I must have that bag.

Simon's phone rang and he immediately turned the screen away from us, told the caller to hold on, put the phone to his shirt and said: Okay suckers, that's all wrapped up. He walked around the table then stood over me and said: You, LA! and waved his other hand at me as someone rather impolitely dismisses a servant and then went back to talking on his phone. We, all, except Russell, scrambled to exit the room. I saw through the partially frosted glass door how Simon carried on talking on his phone. I grabbed my coat and rushed towards the elevators realizing Prada is at least 30 blocks away. I saw Daniel, my co-worker near the elevators. Daniel a very handsome youngish looking blond guy with blue eyes shared pretty much everything with me and likewise me with him. He had managed to avoid the meeting and came into the elevator with me with a tail of Marlboro-smell after him. Daniel had the glow on him. He had met a guy who stayed at the Sheraton a few blocks away. He was on his way back as the guy wanted another round. The guy was taking him to dinner tonight. I told him about the rather unpleasant boring meeting.  It went on and on and to make matters worse Simon was chewing on sugary doughnuts and smearing cigar and jam everywhere. Daniel made a face as he had just smelled some bad flatulence and said I wonder who is gonna clean that up now that they got rid of Olga?

Olga, the cleaning lady? Oh! no! She is so nice, why on earth? I asked.

Apparently Russell had overheard her complaining to Carlos in the break room how she was considering quitting  as she felt that Simon and Russell had robbed her native Russia of state run assets which had been built up by the people during the Soviet years to be sold off at the bargain basement just after communism had fallen. Apparently, Carlos job is hanging on a thread too.

We parted outside the front entrance. The rain hadn’t stopped and seemed to slow down the already chaotic rush hour traffic. Instead of getting a cab I ran towards the Subway and down the stairs knowing every second count. A number 4 express train had just pulled in and I managed to leap on just as the doors closed.  How could this happen? From sitting in a boring meeting five minutes ago to rushing up to get a stupid handbag and then getting a flight across the country I don’t even have a ticket for. Then I had to carry this Prada bag with me across the country and back.

I got to Prada minutes before closing. They had the bag ready for me by the reception.  That will be $4800 plus tax. The electronic display where I signed for the purchase to my credit card showed $5184. I bet that is a lot more than what I will spend first class to LA I mumbled as I signed the credit card sales slip. Wrapped up I got the bag in an elaborate blue-black-brown stitched fabric bag that looked as it itself cost hundreds of dollars. I took some satisfaction in saying: Do you have anything discrete like a carrier bag to put everything in as I’ll be running outside to take the subway? The slim male assistant looking me then the bag with a slight look of unease across his face, walked off and went behind a door, came back with a used Duane Reade plastic bag. Outside, the freezing sleet was heavier and fell down as piercing little nails at high speed. The streets were slippery and at total gridlock, so the only hope was rush hour subway.

Standing on the busy Rockaway bound E-train with my briefcase and then the 5k bag in bag-in-bag. Whilst the NYC subway is safe these days it still felt some comfort that people would have little idea of the expensive content of my Duane Reade bag. After all, it could be anything from diapers to multi-buy lotion and aspirin in that bag. The rain had turned into snow as the train rushed through Queens. I checked my phone. The weather icon showed 30 degrees and wind 15 mph north. At Jamaica station, I got on the Air-train to JFK Airport terminals. I pulled out my phone, Google told me the next available flight to LA was the 9 pm American but by now it was 8.05. Delta had their LA departure at 9.10 pm. Delta terminal was next. I just hoped the snow wasn't going to affect the flights. It was really coming down now. The terminal was not very busy as it was getting late. I walked up to the first and business counter, a beautiful tall woman with long perfectly twinned dreadlocks down to her shoulders which were tied in with weaves in many colors, greeted me. Hello, My name is Melissa how can I help you?

I need to get on the 8.30 pm to Los Angeles please, in front, first

Melissa typed, smiled: I am happy to tell you we have seats left in first class. Will that be a round-trip, Sir?

Yes please, I think I will be back in three days.

All right, that will be $2810.

I handed her my company Amex. Yup, a lot less than Natasha's bag. As she was typing I couldn't help but notice  how attractive and just fine she was looking. Her tall slender figure, big brown eyes and full lips were just Dazzling. Her black skin was rich and vibrant and made her saturated red lipstick almost pale by comparison. Everything about her said beauty, brains, class and niceness without being pretentious or bossy. I also noticed she had an accent somewhat British. Whilst she was tapping away at her computer terminal I asked her about her English accent.

I am originally from Abuja, Nigeria. I schooled some years in Bristol, England went back home married a man who is a doctor, and he got a job here.

Do you miss home? I asked.

Well since I work for Delta I get a good discount and fly there a couple of times a year. I also go to Accra, Ghana sometimes to visit my sister, in fact I just returned from Ghana a week ago. You should go sometime, it is a nice city and we fly there non-stop from this airport.

Thanks so much I will keep that in mind!

I can check you in now, do you have any luggage?

No thank you just my briefcase and this bag.

She hit a button and I heard a printer produce my boarding pass which she handed to me.

Thank you, Sir, for choosing Delta, you can walk straight through priority departures, the flight will open for boarding in ten to twenty minutes from now .Have a pleasant flight to Los Angeles!

Some flights were indeed getting delayed. Fortunately ours wasn't. Moments later I was on the plane. I picked up my phone, expecting  a stream of messages from Natasha, but there were none. I just had the lovely Melissa on my mind. There wasn’t much I could do about that, my imagination started playing like one of those old VCRs with a stop button which wouldn't respond. There was one message, a text from Russell: Kill it tomorrow, we need those floors.

I placed myself in seat 3A and looked out of the window. A little icy rain had just started to fall, scattering a few drops on the airplane window.

Folks this is your captain, we are number three for take-off. LA today had a sunny 85 degrees at noon and the weather will be the same tomorrow.

I could really do with the warm weather, I wish I had found something to do in a warmer place like LA. Originally from Boston, with two sisters and a brother and a normal upbringing, I had longed to escape the cold winters. Originally I had wanted to be a lawyer but ended up selling houses as a realtor. As we raced down the runway I looked at the printouts from Peter and Russell. The building was a new, impressive 45 stories high rise on the southern side of Hollywood Boulevard which would be taller than the nearby CNN building. Stunning views with Hollywood sign and the Hollywood hills north, downtown LA to the south-east and Santa Monica and Malibu to the west. The actual buyer was the Central-Eastern mutual pension fund who was using us as brokers. We would buy the office space with their money as an investment and sell it within 2 years at a profit. All the newly built office space has been selling well, especially in this booming economy. The Ivar building consortium sold the space at lower prices to fund the building. The first buyers who could front the money would gain. This was one of many projects I had done for several deals just this month but mostly in or around New York City and a few in Chicago, Miami. Apart from the corporate realty business the company also did business with racecourses and online shopping. I never saw the actual checks and money, Simon and Russell handled most of that along with Peter, the head of finance. Once I got the deed to a property I would sign it with a lawyer and get it back to the office where it was destined to go to the client who had put up the money. We made the money through commission of the purchase price. Business was good. The impressive office in Manhattan cost a fortune, but it helped establish us as serious players. Nice men in suits who could do good deals.

It was usually worth the pain of working with, as I would call them sleaze balls like Simon and Russell. I sometimes thought of quitting, but the pay and perks were good, which was needed as I was burning money living in that house with a high mortgage and constantly buying stuff to put in it. Russell actually had a house in the next town up Long Island, Moss Hill. He was impressed when he found out I was moving to the house. Both Simon and Russell expected that all their traders should be seen living the good life, being part of the high lifers of Wall Street. I never got into flashy cars but I had a flashy (very) expensive girlfriend to say the least. My first trip to LA on business was one of my first jobs when I joined Smedley & Nixon-Reading asset management. I was negotiating the purchase of a small loss making a TV shopping channel called First home sales television. The channel started in the fall of 1993 running out of a couple of floors on Sunset Boulevard in East Hollywood. Sounds glamorous, though it was in a rather run-down warehouse. The station started as one of a number of competitors to QVC but focused on clothing and luggage. The channel closed down in 2007 but continued on the Internet. What the company wanted with this enterprise puzzled me, but Simon and Russell insisted on keeping it going and then they kept it tightly under control and that any financial information was off limits to everyone else in the company. I had a look at the website and oddly they accepted mail-in cash payments even though you aren't supposed to send cash in the mail.

My phone vibrated. Wi-Fi in the sky, no place to be left alone! It was Natasha. Finally! She must have missed me. Darling as you are in LA I need you to go to Prada in Beverly Hills and pick up a pair of shoes and a scarf I've just ordered. They will match my bag, Thanks. My reply was, I'm sure they deliver or I can get it back in New York. Yes but I don't like waiting for delivery and you need to bring me back something. By the way, I will be out of pomegranate juice in 3 days so can you buy some at Trader Joes and buy some loaves of bread to cushion the juice bottles as you have to check it in the hold. And the juice must be well shielded from my Prada bag! Normal messages would be to bring back something actually from California, but she demands more expensive European stuff. To always buy pomegranate juice whenever I'll be on my way home whether it is coming home from the office or all the way from LA that is something I am used to and don't mind as she has been totally hooked on pomegranate juice this year. Last year it was banana flavored milk. Pomegranate juice is much healthier than banana flavored milk though. Time to get some shut eyes, I thought. I noticed the guy in the seat across from me was crying.

Tall very handsome and nice slim and worked out body wearing a light blue long-sleeved shirt over a tight white t-shirt, deep blue jeans, brown shoes, expensive gold watch. Some tears had already started making raindrops like imprints on an otherwise perfectly ironed and starched shirt.

Nice as I am, I decided to ask him what was wrong. Turns out the guy, Steven, was a male model from LA who had been in New York for some photo work when he had seen on a hidden web-cam that the boyfriend back at their LA apartment was in bed causing an indiscretion. He showed me the camera app in which he had saved stills, some quite explicit of his partner in bed with not one but two other guys. The images were very clear and the camera mounted to show the whole bed. Intrigued, I asked him how he went about installing the camera. He had himself after he had a gut feeling that something wasn't right and a long trip away would probably be the time he would be cheated on. I was really impressed and I wanted to congratulate him on his ingenuity. I told him that I bet he wouldn't ask you to buy $5100 handbags from Prada.

Steven told me no, but Prada bags were one of the advertising billboards and magazine model shots he had just done in New York. I pulled out the Prada bag from the Duane Reade bag from the overhead compartment and showed it to him.

The big blond guy wiped his tears and was impressed and even laughed a little. It was one of the bags they had had on the photo shoot. He smiled and said The French laced edition. It is exceptional! I'd live in one if I could! It eased the conversation. Steven had already messaged the stills from the web-camera and his partner said he would be out of their apartment by the time the plane landed. This is the power of strong evidence! It was brutally efficient.

I must admit I have that gut feeling too. I asked Steve for more details where he bought his camera set-up. Best-buy in West Hollywood. He paid the Tech-squad to install everything. I felt bad for even thinking about setting this up at home. Steven told me he felt bad too, but when the gut feeling won't go away this helps. Either the feeling is wrong and you feel a bit silly for a short time or the gut-feeling is right and no more being a fool.

Steven handed me his card, which sported a white with a background with a gold frame, Steven Ballard. Professional model and a shirtless color photo of him. Call me, my bed will have space!

I smiled and before I could say I'm flattered but not gay he said if you're straight you could just keep me company, the nights can get cold in LA this time of the year and there is no heating. I put the card in my wallet. He asked me what I was doing in LA, so I told him about the Ivar office project.         You will see me there, literally. I am spread out on a giant billboard on the building next to the Sky scraper.

Los Angeles

The flight descended into the desert night and I saw palm trees and long streets heading east to west. On-time and just before midnight we landed. I stepped out of the terminal and was met with the sweet ocean air of the Pacific. I realized I hadn't booked a hotel and I remember Steven and his promise of a bed and how in an unfamiliar way it would feel like a triumph to be in a