Moscow Machination

But like any ambitious project… or any project, the Albatross soon ran into a myriad of issues like cost overruns, politics, dick moves, pussy footing, visas, pissing matches, currency fluctuations, scope creeps and the inevitable scope reductions. Realizing that the Albatross was shit, the great powers after a lot of hand wringing, decided to hand over the development to the one people who took shit 24x7 and incredibly, shit out passable shit. The Albatross was handed over to the Indians.

Under the stewardship of Bangalore, the thousand plus number of bugs were soon whittled down to just 93. The competent software engineers that they were, the Indians had followed industry best practices and fed the smaller bugs to the larger ones. This guaranteed their million euro retainer. Some of the remaining bugs became so large that they began frying and devouring actual bugs that flew near the servers. In other words, the Indians had delivered.

Consultant Pulikesi played point man between the dudes in Kiev, the dudes in Berlin and the several more dudes in Bangalore. He was the de facto head of this multinational sausage party.

Out of a stable of one hundred and thirty consultants in his Bangalore firm, Pulikesi ranked dead last at 130. He blamed it on work pressure. His peers blamed it on his love of the dried herb. Sixteen months ago, the Albatross job had come down to two guys. 130^th Pulikesi and the 129^th ranked Cooomar, one of the sixteen Cooomars in the firm. Unfortunately for Pulikesi, 129^th Cooomar had precedence and was leaning towards Kiev, thus leaving Pulikesi with the Monrovia job in Liberia… home to the largest Ebola outbreak. The Monrovia job’s billables were astronomical.

After googling Kiev, Pulikesi had become enamored with the city. He discovered three things. One, the law on herbs was cool. Two, Kiev according to the Urban Dictionary had the third highest per capita of belles in the world. Only Rosewood, PA and Wilmington, NC ranked higher. Lastly, the Neo-Nazi fatality rate was negligible when compared to the Ebola.

While Pulikesi troubles hinged on substances, the Cooomar’s troubles were more visceral. It involved gray matter, or the lack of. Like any high functioning substance utilizer, Pulikesi was pretty good at conniving. Thus, over a couple of beers, the 130^th ranked Pulikesi had convinced the 129^th ranked Cooomar that the Ebola was ‘basi-cally a braggable std… girls love it… trust me’. The next morning the Cooomar had shipped out to Liberia as Pulikesi boarded an Aeroflot to Kiev. The rest as they say was history.

Six months later, out of the blue, the Cooomar had popped up in a company newsletter. The Cooomar, according to the bulletin, had gone to Monrovia for managing the Liberian President’s fleet of Gulfstreams. Three weeks on the job, he had contracted the Ebola during a back-alley-DNA-swap. Despite all odds, after a brief stay at a French run shithole, the Cooomar had walked out spry and healthy.

Left for dead at the hands of the ill equipped, yet super cute French nurses, the Cooomar had defied logic and renounced all treatment. He had then gone on a liquid only diet of 100 % Liberian tap water.

On the third watery day, the Cooomar had resurrected.

The French doctor had cried out, ‘Un Médicalé Miraclé… Oui.”

The Cooomar had survived Ebola the old fashioned way… a self-induced Indian style diarrhea. Whatever the Ebola schemed, it soon found itself outside the Cooomar, often accompanied by swooshing and gushing sounds. According to the nubile French nurse from Médecins Sans Frontières, the Ebola had ‘ran un train’ on him before giving up. She thought his Maverick method deserved a French award.

Being a fellow countryman, Pulikesi begged to differ. Diarrhea as a deterrent? Fuck that shit. It was child’s play. He knew that shit about shit in like middle school. How dumb were the French?

The recovery had been so darn unprecedented that a bunch of US Seals had burst through the seams and bagged up pounds and pounds of the Cooomar’s produce for research. Three weeks later the Americans had a new vaccine.

A month later the largest Ebola outbreak ended.

* * *

For Pulikesi, other than the missed spot on the monthly newsletter, things were going swimmingly in Kiev. Obviously the Crimea heist and the circus at the Maidan had come close to killing off the Albatross. But eventually, the American intervention had booted out Russia and put the Albatross under Kiev’s firm control.

During the few dicey weeks, Pulikesi unlike his German counterparts had opted to ‘ride it out’ and stayed back in Kiev. He had spent the entire two weeks cooped up in his apartment with Katya, his night-night friend. The Kiev fortnight was hands down better than his Rita fortnight in Mobile, AL. Back then, he had ridden out the storm in the comforting arms of Jack Daniels and Amber… or Mercedes… or was it Desire… Anyways, whats her name, had abandoned him after the first week. His retainer was much smaller back then.