Free SNAP: New Talent by Michele Drier Page A

in the 13 th century.  It resurfaced during the 19 th century industrial revolution and had been the capital of Ukraine for the past 75 years or so.
    It had a population of about 3 million and was the third largest city in the old USSR, so it was a logical choice for a SNAP bureau.  I asked Cheri, the cabin attendant and one of the SNAP girls—pale skin, Russian Red lipstick, no doubt a donor—to have the pilot circle before we landed.  From the air, Kiev was reminiscent of Budapest; straddling a river with industry and commerce on one bank and residential areas on the other.
    I was met by Taras Chemenkov, a businessman and journalist we’d tapped as the first bureau chief.  He was experienced and had been the freelance Ukrainian correspondent for several of the weekly news magazines, including the World Report.  Of course, the real power was the Kandesky family member Nikoly, a vampire I’d never met.  He was in the backseat of the Mercedes limo.  Taras and I piled in, Vladmir and Vassily got in front with the driver—another demon?—and we headed into town.
    “Is this your first visit to Kiev?”  Taras spoke good English, with a trace of Slavic intonation.  If he’d been writing for Western magazines, he must have been able to speak several languages.
    “Yes, and I’m surprised that it reminds me so much of Budapest.  Your English is very good, what other languages do you speak?”
    “Russian, of course, German, French, Ukrainian.”
    “Not Hungarian?”
    “No.” Nikoly broke in, his voice silky and low.  “I speak Hungarian, so I translate anything from the Baron for Taras.  We need Taras’ skills in languages we use for business, not communication with the family.”
    Lord, had I put my foot in it already?  As a regular, Taras wasn’t far enough up the chain of command for family discussions.  I was never sure in this game of friend or foe and shifting alliances.  It was like trying to capture smoke.  Just when I had it all thought out, understood and safely packaged, somebody new popped up.  When I got back to the castle, I was going to pin Jean-Louis down and get a complete cheat sheet from him of who was who.  And an organizational chart as well, even though it was tricky because some of the family members who worked for SNAP actually reported to regulars, like me, so there weren’t lines of supervision...more like circles on a Venn diagram.
    “Hummmm.  What else is in your job description?”
    I couldn’t see Nikoly’s eyes behind his enormous dark glasses, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.  “I handle the logistical interface for the supply chain.”
    What?
    “What?  I’m not sure what that means.”  I was trying to keep a stupid expression off my face.  This guy may be a vampire and a member of the Kandesky family, but he spoke like a newly-minted MBA.
    This time Taras translated for me.  “I’m the bureau chief.  I make all the assignments, decide on the coverage.  I’ll be working with you on the mock-up of the Slavic edition and making sure all the print tallies with the broadcast.  Nikoly is the one who will work with all the technical people, the government folks, and...”
    “And the Russian Mafia, the Chechens and others.  This is Eastern Europe, it doesn’t work like the West.  After the Soviets, there’s been a vacuum of power.  I’m the one who works in the vacuum.”  This time there was a definite smile.
    Ah, the clean-up man.  Now him being a Kandesky family member made sense.  He had the juice, backed by the Baron’s money and all the demons, to get things done.
    “Will it require a lot to get the bureau up and running?”
    ”We’ve been working on it for a few months now.”  Taras nodded.  “We’ll drop your bags at the hotel then give you a tour.”
    We pulled up to the forecourt of the Premier Palace Hotel and I gasped.  What I’d expected was probably some radiation-dusted Econolodge.  What I got was a grand