Once Upon a Time in Russia Read Online Free PDF

aimed at teenagers.
    The opportunity to use Yumashev’s skills for something more worthwhile had presented itself about a year ago, when he had been hired as a writer to pen the president’s autobiography after interviewing President Yeltsin for an article. Seeking a publisher for the book, Yumashev had eventually approached Berezovsky, who had realized that his involvement as publisher would bring him closer to Yeltsin and give him some level of entrance into the halls of political power.
    Even better, Yeltsin had immediately taken to the writer on a personal level—and, yet more significant was that Yeltsin’s youngest daughter, Tatiana, had struck up a relationship with the handsome Yumashev. Almost instantly, Berezovsky was able to ride upward withYumashev’s fortune, and went from being an outsider to part of Yeltsin’s inner circle—a group of influence known outside the Kremlin as the Family. A man like Korzhakov—a product of the old world, a former KGB general who had made his bones in the military—might have blanched at the sight of a businessman and a twentysomething writer ascending so quickly into Yeltsin’s orbit, but there was little he could do. He mocked Berezovsky behind his back—but he had no choice but to listen when Berezovsky spoke long and loud enough.
    And this idea—this golden idea—was something Berezovsky knew was worth speaking about until his throat—or the bodyguard—gave out.
    â€œWe aren’t talking about newspapers, Alexander Vasilyevich.”
    Korzhakov waved a meaty hand.
    â€œRight, your television station. As if we don’t have enough trouble with Gusinsky and his pornography as it is.”
    Berezovsky stifled the urge to spit.
    â€œGusinsky’s swill is the exact opposite of what I’m proposing.”
    It was obvious that Korzhakov knew he’d hit a nerve, and his eyes told Berezovsky he was enjoying the moment.
    On paper, the two Oligarchs, Gusinsky and Berezovsky, appeared to be cut from the same cloth—both were from Jewish backgrounds, both had risen from obscurity to great financial wealth by taking advantage of perestroika. But the mere mention of the rival businessman’s name made Berezovsky’s scars twitch beneath his bandages.
    Whereas Berezovsky had taken a roundabout route to his fortune, exploiting the inefficiencies in the car market, Gusinsky had taken a more direct approach, building a banking conglomerate with the help and protection of Moscow’s Mayor’s office. Once the coffers of Most Bank had made Gusinsky immensely wealthy, he had turned his attentions to the media, building an independent televisionstation to rival the state-owned network—which, while a ratings behemoth, was still a clunky remnant of the Communist era. Gusinsky’s NTV might not have actually manufactured pornography, but its quest for popularity had led to programming that had ruffled feathers in the administration, especially when it had begun airing programs that took a critical view of Russia’s recent involvement in the Chechen conflict.
    â€œNTV is little more than a nuisance,” Berezovsky continued. “I’m talking about a real television network. ORT.”
    Korzhakov raised an eyebrow. Общественное Российское Телевидение Russian Public Television, the state-owned network, dwarfed Gusinsky’s startup. In fact, with almost two hundred million daily viewers, it was bigger than all the American networks combined. It was also leaking money, losing almost a quarter billion dollars a year. And, as everyone knew, it was one of the most corrupt institutions in modern Russia.
    â€œYou want the president to give you ORT?”
    It was a blunt way of wording things, but Korzhakov had always been a blunt instrument. The truth was, Berezovsky had not invented the concept of