He was gracious by nature, extending his Edwardian courtesy curbside, where two black Land Rovers, termed Discovery 4, idled in the downpour. The sport utility vehicles were accompanied by an onyx Maybach 62, patiently attended by a courtly chauffeur, anticipating the oligarch’s approach.
Viktor Aleksy Chernov arrived at the luxurious German sedan, invigorated by the initial business of the day. Though they wielded influence in different spheres, Mr. Chernov viewed the Platonist architect as his contemporary. As the breadth of his contingent entered the awaiting vehicles, Mr. Chernov turned toward his affable host.
“In myth, giants are perceived as monsters. However, giants are not…” the energy maven paused, before turning to Desya for assistance with the words. He inquired, in Russian, with the adept apprentice.
Desya, speaking in his native tongue, provided the nuclear patriarch with the specific phrasing for his thoughts.
Mr. Chernov, reassured in his contemplation, continued, “Unreasonable creatures.”
He paused, momentarily, attempting to translate his next thought for the postmodern prince, though it was Maxwell who interpreted the mogul’s unspoken words.
“They’re just unable to see eye-to-eye, with ordinary men.”
Viktor smiled. He observed the artful virtuoso once more, before entering the idling Maybach. The attentive chauffeur secured the door, before tending to his vehicular perch.
Maxwell observed, the wool fibers of his Tom Ford ensemble repelling the efforts of the rain, as the Russian convoy fled the aquatic corridors of SoHo.
Implode. Part LXII – DK