Luo Jiaming stood in front of the office window and smoked quietly, looking down at the street below from the first floor. The tanks and armed forces on the street had disappeared. With the arrest of Soviet Defense Minister Yazov and
After the suicide of Interior Minister Pugo, Moscow gradually returned to order after experiencing the brief turmoil of the "819 Incident". The streets were deserted at midnight. Most of the shops on both sides of the street were closed. Ouhe only had a desk lamp in his office.
It was on, and the light was very dim. The international channel of the TV was replaying the statement of Gorbachev, General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, stating that it was no longer possible for him to continue to perform the functions of General Secretary of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union and was handing over power. The Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union would
Dissolution... Gorbachev's statement is tantamount to a historical declaration: the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, which has gone through 69 years of history, will cease to exist. No matter what the outcome of this event that shocked the world, it will not matter to the vast majority of ordinary people.
The Chinese hardly mean anything, but for Luo Jiaming, a Chinese businessman who invested in Soviet oil exploration, it was a life-and-death bet. The exploitation rights of the 15 oil wells almost made him a billionaire, and his Norkuk Oil Company almost made him a billionaire.
Create a brilliance... But he lost! The investment that cost all his family property, the huge debt that was about to mature, the survival of the family... everything was because this investment relied on the "power economy" of individual senior officials of the Soviet Communist Party regime.
" And collapsed. In the two days from the 4th to the 4th, one of the five high-ranking officials in the company's secret shareholder agreement has been arrested, sealed, liquidated, and prosecuted... It is only a matter of time. The economy will be reshuffled.
, the interests need to be redistributed. His Norkuk Oil Company is not only an attachment of the "power economy", but also a victim of this political struggle. It is a destruction that he cannot resist with his own personal power.
He thought about his mother, daughter, wife, and sister who were far away in New York. How would they live in the future? He thought about the relatives and friends who lent him money. He couldn't explain it... There was no way. If there was a way, he wouldn't have to die.
... He felt that he couldn't even say an apology and was not qualified. He knew that his mother's heart might not be able to withstand the blow of bankruptcy and the loss of a child, but he even thought that it might be better. His mother would be relieved and would not have to suffer anymore.
Suffering.
He took a deep breath of cigarette, letting the smoke stay in his chest for a while, then exhaled it slowly, and then flicked the ash out of the window. The ash immediately flew down quietly from the height of the first floor, and in the blink of an eye, it decomposed into pieces in the summer wind.
Dust. He glanced sideways at the TV subconsciously, and immediately faced the window again. He didn't want to see Gorbachev's face anymore. This face could no longer arouse his expectations. He thought coldly in his heart.
He cursed: This idiot!
Just when the cigarette was about to be finished, he walked over and turned off the TV, screwed the cigarette butt into the ashtray on the desk, sat down, took out the key, opened the drawer, and took out a gift box, which contained a World War II-era weapon.
A revolver and a box of bullets. This gun was originally a gift to him from the son of a Soviet general, but now it was going to be the tool to end his life. He inserted a bullet into the chamber of the gun and turned it to the firing position.
Put it on the right hand side, and then took a pen and paper to leave a last message. I only wrote two sentences - I couldn't hold it anymore.
I can't ask for forgiveness, this is not something that can be forgiven!
On the east wall of the office hangs an antique, beautifully framed Chinese calligraphy banner, with four vigorous and powerful characters on it - "Don't leave until you see the road". This banner followed him from Beijing to New York, and from New York to Moscow.
This was the last moment of his life. He glanced at the banner for the last time and thought with the consciousness of the last moment of his life: I can't go if I see a road... But all I can see now is a dead end. If I don't go, I have to go...
He put his last words on the phone to prevent them from being stained red by blood, picked up the gun and pointed it at his temple. With the sound of a gunshot, he fell forward and fell on the desk. Blood flowed down the edge of the desk... (To be completed.)