December 29, 1994 – Neva Bank Moscow Branch, Alexei's Office
The analytical department had been working for three days, and already they had produced something valuable.
Natalia Petrova stood before Alexei's desk, a sheaf of papers in her hand. Her expression was a mixture of excitement and caution—the look of an academic who had discovered something important but wasn't quite sure how it would be received.
"I've been analyzing the privatization patterns," she began. "Not just Surgutneftegaz, but all the major enterprises. There's a pattern emerging."
Alexei gestured for her to continue.
"The government is running out of money. Yeltsin's spending, the war in Chechnya, the subsidies to failing industries—it's all adding up. They need cash, and they need it fast." She spread papers across his desk. "These are the loans-for-shares proposals circulating in the ministries. Banks lend money to the government in exchange for shares in state enterprises. If the government defaults—which it will—the banks get the shares."
Alexei studied the documents. In his past life, he had known about loans-for-shares. It was the mechanism that created the oligarchs, that transferred Russia's wealth to a handful of connected insiders. But seeing the actual proposals, the real numbers, was different.
"When?"
"Spring. Probably March or April. The government is desperate.
Alexei nodded slowly. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. Surgutneftegaz was just the beginning. The real prizes were still ahead.
He called Lebedev and Ivan into the office. Natalia repeated her analysis for them.
"If this happens," Lebedev said slowly, "it changes everything. The banks that participate will own the country."
"Not all banks. Only the ones connected enough to be invited." Alexei looked at Natalia. "Who's organizing it?"
"Khodorkovsky is one. Potanin is another. Berezovsky is circling. They're putting together consortia—groups of banks that will bid together."
Alexei thought about his relationship with Khodorkovsky. The consortium offer from October. The two million he had committed. That was the entry ticket.
"We're already in," he said. "Khodorkovsky's consortium. Two million committed."
Lebedev's eyebrows rose. "You knew?"
"I suspected. Now I know."
Ivan spoke from the doorway. "What does this mean for us?"
"It means we have a seat at the table. Not the biggest seat, but a seat. When the auctions happen, we'll get a share of whatever the consortium acquires."
Natalia added, "If you want more than a share, you need to prepare. Capital, connections, intelligence. The others will be maneuvering for position."
Alexei nodded. "Start analyzing the targets. Surgutneftegaz we already have. But there are others—Yukos, Lukoil, Sibneft. I want to know everything about them. Production, reserves, political connections, vulnerabilities."
Natalia gathered her papers. "I'll have a preliminary report by tomorrow."
After she left, Alexei turned to Lebedev. "We need more capital. Liquid, available, ready to deploy."
"How much?"
"If the auctions go as expected, the big players will bid tens of millions. We need to be able to match that—or at least look like we can."
Lebedev calculated. "We have about eight million in liquid reserves. Another five in assets we could borrow against. Total maybe thirteen million."
"Not enough. We need twenty."
"Twenty is aggressive. We'd have to leverage everything—the bank, the shipping line, the railway, the port."
"Then leverage everything. This is the moment. The men who own the oil companies will own Russia. I intend to be one of them."
Lebedev was quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I'll start working on the numbers."
Ivan lingered after Lebedev left. "You're thinking about moving faster."
"The window is narrow. If we don't act now, we'll be left behind."
"And the others? Khodorkovsky, Berezovsky, Potanin?"
"They're the competition. But they're also potential partners. We're too small to fight them. We need to be useful enough to keep a seat at the table."
Ivan considered this. "And if they decide you're not useful?"
"Then we have a problem. But we have advantages they don't. The infrastructure, the regional connections, the analytical department. We see things they don't."
Ivan nodded slowly. "Your father would be impressed. Not by the strategy—by the patience."
"Patience is just waiting for the right moment. The moment is coming."
1995 was going to be the year everything changed. The year the oligarchs were made. The year Russia's wealth was finally, permanently transferred to those who understood the game.
He intended to be among them.