#like. He's infiltrated government agencies and won a lot of fights and now THIS

[takadasaiko]

Demons at the Door: Chapter Twenty-Four

FFN II AO3

Summary: All hell breaks loose when Miles Ellington takes Halcyon Aegis.

Chapter Twenty-Four: What Needs to be Done

Halcyon Aegis. The idea itself of building up an intelligence company that stood alone and out from under any government entity had seemed like a pipedream years before, but then Howard Hargrave had made it happen. It had been his charm that won over all the right people, but his intellect that had put together the structure that made it work. The Artax Network, the training programs and recruiting techniques, and, of course, the scientists that he reached out to join in the efforts of brainstorming the next big idea that would continue to put the company at the forefront of the intelligence community. Often even beyond government-run programs.

Hargrave had had a moral center, unshakable at the time, and that's where Miles Ellington had hit the snag. They say everyone has a price, but he hadn't been able to find Howard Hargrave's. Not until Scottie. If Miles had to lose her, at least he was gaining Halcyon. All those years of planning hadn't been wasted, and in that he would take comfort.

Miles' gaze swept the war room that he stood in, his people handling the last remaining opposition to the takeover. He'd questioned McKinney's capability to set up what they needed to infiltrate the base, but he had to admit the man had come through. He hadn't survived long enough to see it, but Miles had, and Miles had every intention of surviving long enough to enjoy his conquest. The inside opposition had been trapped behind doors that no longer moved in the shutdown and the outside opposition was predictable in their own way. They wouldn't let this stand. Miles had no misgivings about that. Scottie and Howard would band together with their long-lost son and they'd send a team in. It'd be done quietly, because anything else would compromise the integrity of the company. If they wished Halcyon Aegis to survive this they would keep those in the know to a very small handful. No news outlets, no large scale attack by law enforcement. No. They would handle this covertly, but even they would need time for that, and if his calculations were right, it would give Miles just enough to get what he needed and leave the shell of Halcyon for the idiots so desperate to save it.

"Sir, we've secured the boardroom and the members when you're ready."

Miles nodded and turned, his boots sounding against the hard floor as he walked. He had his own capable team that he'd collected over the years. The one he was particularly fond of - and the one that was holding the building in lockdown no matter how hard Dumont DeSoto tried to get past it - was Nina Davis. She didn't look like much at first glance. Petite with short, dark hair and even darker eyes, he'd found her in a hole in the wall cafe in London just a few years before and she's proven her worth to him time and again since then. She fell into step with him as they made their way toward the boardroom.

"Security protocols have been rewritten. I'm currently running a program to find any back doors that Hargrave may have left."

"Leave nothing unturned," he said sharply. "Howard Hargrave has a penchant for hiding ways into the system and we need time."

"Paranoia has its perks."

"Find them. Deal with them. How's the transfer coming?"

"It's a lot of information. I can only push it so fast, especially with the other programs running." She paused and he saw her tilt her head as they continued to walk. "Some of the board members have access codes I need."

"Whatever you need. Just make it happen, Nina." Miles nodded at one of the men standing guard at the door and they pushed it open, allowing him to step through.

The board members looked shaken as they huddled around their table. One or two might have tried to fight, but they hadn't gotten very far. They looked up as he entered and Miles lifted his chin just a little. "Keep your seats," he instructed cheerfully. "As you likely know this facility has been taken and is on lockdown."

"You can't possibly imagine you'll get away with this," a woman at the far end of the table said sharply. "We don't function in a black hole. People will know and you can only barricade them out so long."

Miles flashed a smile. "I only need so long. Behave and you may come out of this alive."

The woman held his gaze for a long moment before nodding slowly, sitting back in her seat warily. His smile didn't falter. People were far too predictable. Give them a little hope and they'd do anything.

Add a little fear to balance it and things would run even smoother.

Miles motioned to three board members. "You, you, and you. If you'll step out into the hall you'll have an escort waiting."

"For what?" one asked nervously.

A smile stretched his thin lips. "Anything that I want, Mr Tallert," he answered, holding the man's gaze as all three members were escorted out.

It would be nice, just once, if Tom had the time to follow a doctor's advice after an injury. Rest, medication, and more rest always seemed to turn into taking just enough painkillers to stay on his feet, but a low enough dose that it didn't screw with his ability to think.

The doctor had argued with him the whole way as he'd disconnected himself from the machines and the IVs, but in the end they couldn't force him to stay. Liz had remained quiet through it all, her expression saying that she had known she couldn't talk him out of it, even if she wasn't thrilled at the idea. Nez's news had thrown yet another complication their way, and this one couldn't wait.

Tom winced as the lift came to a halt at the bottom and he felt the stop through every inch of his body. He looked over as Liz touched his arm and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He was okay. He had to be. There were no other choices at that point.

The doors gave a loud, increasingly familiar sound as the opened up and he took a deep breath, readying himself as it emptied them out into the Post Office, the armed guard at the entrance giving both he and Liz a brief nod and Tom's gaze swept out over the open war room. The Post Office had been emptied out of any unnecessary personnel to keep information contained as best as they could, but Liz's team, Reddington, Tom's team, the Hargraves, and Solomon were there. It was a ragtag group, but they'd proven that desperate times could bring them all together, and Halcyon Aegis in the hands of Miles Ellington was as desperate as they came.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Matias Solomon greeted cheerfully from his place. "You do not look well, Keen."

Tom leveled a glare briefly in his direction, but switched to Dumont who had set up shop at an empty desk with his laptop. "Dumont, what have you found?"

Dumont huffed loudly, but never broke eye contact with his computer as he spoke. "McKinney must have given Ellington more than we knew. Combine that with the hacker they've been using and boom. He's got the whole building in lockdown. They've cut my eyes and ears into the place. For now."

"The Board was meeting," Nez said from her place. "They're hostages, as are any personnel on site."

"Ellington is betting on discretion," Samar stated.

"Then he's placed his bet wisely," Cooper answered. He glanced over to Tom. "I spoke to Panabaker before you got here. We have the green light to bring this under control, but it has to be done off books."

"If the public were to find out that the leading private intelligence agency had been compromised to this degree it would be impossible for Halcyon to function as it needs to," Scottie said from the chair she had claimed. "Ellington knows that."

"Okay, fine," Tom cut in, his patience running thin. "Howard, Nez, and I proved that we can break into the building if necessary."

"We've been talking about that," Aram jumped in. "You guys had Mr Hargrave to plant the code that overheated the systems, which was kind of genius, by the way. I mean, those systems are-"

"Aram," Cooper said tightly.

"Right. Sorry. We don't have that, but Dumont was able to work fast enough and created a back door of sorts to work a subtle program in."

"Technically I used a back door Howard had in place," Dumont said with a shrug.

Scottie shot Howard a look and he shrugged. "I don't like the idea of being shut out of my own company."

"We should have the program inserted soon," Aram continued. "Maybe... three hours? Four?"

Dumont nodded.

"Good. That gives us time to put together a team and get to New York," Tom said firmly. "We'll need transportation that won't set alarm bells off."

"That's already been taken care of," Reddington said from his place and Tom felt a strange chill sweep through him. A warning given off by years of finely tuned instincts.

"And what do you get out of all of this, Reddington? It's not your fight, and you don't exactly have the resources you used to to throw around."

"It's not," Reddington agreed, holding Tom's gaze. "I am a businessman and I'll be paid for my services at the end of this."

A quick glance to Scottie showed she knew what payment he had asked for and she wasn't happy with it.

Liz touched his arm, drawing his attention away from that particular situation, but it was Samar that spoke. "You said you wanted to put together a team."

"Yeah. Keeping it relatively small worked well last time. No reason to think it wouldn't this time. You, Nez, Solomon,-" he cringed inwardly as he said it - "Ressler, Liz, and me. We can go in through the vents."

"Are you cleared to be in the field?" Ressler asked skeptically.

Tom flashed him an innocent grin that he didn't look like he bought. "I'll hold," he said a little more truthfully than he'd planned.

Ressler took a moment, considering, before he nodded and turned to Solomon. "And we're sure we can trust him?"

"We can trust in the fact that he knows I'll put a bullet between his eyes if he even looks like he's betraying us," Tom answered dangerously, his gaze fixed on a smiling Solomon.

"I've missed you too, Keen," the other man said cheerfully.

"Fine. It's settled. Get set up and coordinate with Reddington to get there. You need to be wheels up in an hour," Cooper instructed.

Everyone moved to follow the order, but Howard reached out, catching his son by the arm. "Tom, a moment?"

"That's all I've got," he answered, but followed a few feet away. "What's up?"

"We need Ellington alive."

"I can't promise that. He's going to put up a hell of a fight and I'm not willing to lose anyone to that bastard."

"I understand, but you still need to make it happen. We don't need any of his people, but we need him."

"Why?"

Howard sighed and shook his head. "I know I may not have earned it yet, son, but I need you to trust me."

"I need more than that, Dad."

"I know you do, and I could tell you a lie as to why, but I won't. I will give you the reason after it's all said and done. For now-"

"Trust you?" Tom huffed. He didn't like it. It didn't set right, but he also didn't have time to argue it. "You're telling me as soon as we get back."

"I will."

He nodded. "Then I'll do my best to bring him back breathing."

"That's all I ask," Howard said and offered a smile. "I'm proud of you, Tom. You know that, don't you? You're a hell of a better man than most people could be having seen what you have. I love you, son."

Tom froze where he was and swallowed hard, the words unexpected and they took a moment to fully sink in. He cleared his throat and tried for a smile, the truth leaving him feeling exposed. "I love you too, Dad."

Howard nodded and he looked like he was trying to keep a careful cap on his own emotions. "Be safe."

He watched his father turn and set his jaw, thinking on it, barely hearing Liz's approach. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"No way to talk you out of going in?"

Tom chuckled, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "No more than me talking you out of it."

"We're a stubborn pair."

"Understatement." He watched his father move to speak to Reddington, Scottie, and Cooper. "Howard wants Ellington alive."

"He probably has a few questions for him."

"Maybe, but why not just tell me that? I think it has to do with Reddington's payment."

Liz hummed softly. "What would Reddington want with him?"

"No clue, but if we're going to just hand over the man that changed the entire course of my life to him, I need to know why."

He heard her pull in a long breath. "One thing at a time," she reminded him softly. "Let's get through this alive and then we'll find out what Reddington and Howard are up to."

When Reddington had procured a new jet, Liz wasn't sure. She wasn't even sure that it was his or just in loan, but seeing Edward in the cockpit did leave her with a sudden and sweeping relief. In everything that had happened, she hadn't had time to think too much on what had happened to him, but it was good to see he was alive and well. He'd always seemed like a decent man, even if she hadn't spent a great deal of time speaking with him. He was, as far as she'd been able to tell, yet another quirky soul that was loyal to Reddington first and foremost.

Tom was with the others towards the front of the plane, going over details of the infiltration. He looked better, at least. He was still a little paler than usual and the bags under his eyes were a little darker, but the rush of fluids and antibiotics they'd pushed through his system at the hospital had helped and no he was focused in on the task at hand. She should be there as well, she knew, but Reddington had decided to go with them. Why, she wasn't sure, and even though she had told her husband to focus on what they were doing, she was having trouble taking her own advice with the mounting questions and the one with all the answers lounging towards the back of the plane, glass of scotch in hand.

Reddington looked up as Liz slipped into the seat across from him. "Shouldn't you be going over last minute details?"

"Why do you want Ellington?"

He blinked at her for half a moment before leaning back. "Who says I do?"

"You. That pause. Thank you, now answer the question."

A slow smile stretched his thin lips. "Have you ever stopped to think on how far you've come, Elizabeth? It's been… four years now? Since I gave myself up to the FBI. I did it to protect you from all the demons that you didn't even hear knocking at your door yet. You've beaten them back, one by one. You've taken challenge after challenge and learned from it in ways many never do."

"And you know that flattery isn't going to distract me," Liz said, her voice sweet, but the meaning clear.

"No, nor would I expect it to. I simply wanted to express how much you have… grown. I missed so much that I do know I can be-"

Smothering, she wanted to say, but instead let her expression ease just a little for the man that was opening up just a little to her. "A little overprotective?"

He hummed a soft affirmation.

"Why do you want Ellington?"

"I don't, but a colleague of mine is willing to trade him for a port I need to rebuild my business."

Liz pulled in a soft breath. He had been struggling, she knew. Thirty years of work had been undone in a few months due to his war with Kate Kaplan. He needed to rebuild, both for himself and if the Task Force's deal was to remain intact. He needed to be useful. She knew that. She understood that.

"You look troubled, Elizabeth."

Her gaze met his. "Tom needs answers. This man-"

"I've secured your husband's answers."

Liz blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Howard asked me to retrieve some information for him. He has that information and as far as I am aware he means to share it with Tom as soon as this is over. Most anything beyond that can be filled in by Scottie herself."

She had expected to find yet another reason to be frustrated with him, but instead she was left staring. He'd made sure Tom was covered. He didn't have to. There was no immediate danger that Reddington was saving her from by ensuring that Tom knew about his past and what had happened to him as a child, but he'd gone out of his way to help bring those answers to a place where Tom would have access to them. He had done what was in his power to help her husband find closure.

"He was never my choice for you, Elizabeth, but who you choose to love isn't my choice. You love him. You chose him. That has to be enough for me."

Liz reached forward, her hand touching his, and she was overwhelmed. "Thank you."

He nodded, his smile small but real. It soured then, and she didn't have to look behind her to see what he was glaring at. "I do wish he would make wiser decisions on the team he put together for this."

"Desperate times. We don't have a lot of choices."

"He threatened to skin you alive under one employer and nearly killed you and Agnes for the next. His loyalties are fluid."

"And we don't trust him."

"But Ms Rowan does."

"And Tom trusts her."

Reddington sighed. "You should make sure you're prepared. We'll talk more after all this is dealt with."

She squeezed his hand and stood, pausing there. "This, Reddington."

"Hmm?"

"Sharing. This is how you and I figure out all of this craziness. How we learn to trust each other, because we need to. I want to."

"I haven't forgotten your suitcase, Elizabeth. After all of this is said and done."

She nodded and turned, joining her husband, her friends, and one man that she hoped wouldn't betray them. Tom was focused, but pulled her in as soon as she took her seat, explaining what she'd missed without missing a beat. Liz listened, adding in where she needed to. This was no easy task, but they could do it. As long as tech did their part - which with Aram and Dumont leading it they would - they might just be able to pull it off as come out of it alive.

Notes: I feel like I need to apologize for the longer waits that have been happening between chapters. For some reason the end of this story really has been giving me a hard time. It's been a combination of a lot of things, but I hope the quality is remaining, even if it's taking a bit longer than usual for me to piece the chapters together.

I joked a couple of chapters ago was my 'shipping' chapter because there were ships coming together from all directions, so this one was my proud Dads chapter :P

Liz and Tom deserve proud dads that tell them how proud they are of everything they've become despite their hardships.

Next time - Grey Matters and the Task Force fight against the odds and infiltrate Halcyon to take try to take it back.

#the blacklist #the blacklist: redemption #Demons at the Door #Tom Keen #Elizabeth Keen #Howard Hargrave #Raymond Reddington

[newagesispage]

                                                                        SEPTEMBER     2020

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 The Rolling Stones have released an old unreleased track they did with Jimmy Page. Scarlet also has a brand new video starring Paul Mescal.** The Rolling Stones will open a store on Carnaby St. in London, Rolling Stones #9 on Sept.9.

*****

Where the hell is Matthew Gray Gubler??

*****

Africa had been declared polio free.

*****

Check out Dream Hustle Code!! It is a worthy cause.

*****

Iowa has lifted the ban on felons voting. Hooray!!

*****

They have discovered the longest living vertebrate, a 400 year old shark.

*****

Hey Clockface is the new album coming in October from Elvis Costello.

*****

Drunk History has been cancelled. NO!!!!!!!!! Netflix??

*****

Michigan will pay $600 million to the victims of the water crisis.

*****

They are remaking The Thing.

*****

Fresh Prince will reunite for their 30th.

*****

Scary Clown applied for help to get a sea wall to protect his golf course due to climate change.

*****

Micky Dolenz is said to be recording Dolenz sings Nesmith, an album of songs written by Mike Nesmith.

*****

PEAD or the Presidents Emergency Action Documents are periodically revised and nobody seems to know a thing about them. Word is the rules are being revised right now but how will we know?? These are the most secret documents in the government. Congress is not even privy to them. Does that seem right??

*****

Wendell Pierce will star in The Thrill is On where he will play B.B. King.

*****

Quibi has brought us the Mapleworth murders with John Lutz, Paula Pell, JB Smoove and Tina Fey.

*****

Kutcher and Leno have been sticking up for Ellen. Watch your back, girl!!

*****

The West Wing is reuniting,

*****

Roman Polanski sued the Academy in 2019 for reinstatement but he has now lost that bid.

*****

The California Supreme court has reversed the death penalty for Scott Peterson.

*****

From Beirut to Florida to Belarus to Russia, our leaders never stop letting us down. The state of the world with the anger, the rebellion shows us just how selfish those in power are. ** The military budget: $732 billion, $ needed to bail out the Post office: $25 billion. This one we have to fight for and bring back our mailboxes for goodness sake!!** There are 3 republican Senators who are very uncomfortable with the President’s bashing of the Post Office. **UPS gives mountains of money to McConnell and Trump.

*****

This is an administration more interested in suppressing the vote than the virus. -President Obama ** Brookings.edu will tell you how well your state runs the vote.

*****

Sam Jay has a great stand up special to see called 3 in the morning.

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If your religion makes or keeps you stupid, it’s not a good religion. –Michael Mckean

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There are calls to dissolve the NRA because of massive fraud.

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Rep. David Schweikert was reprimanded and ordered to pay a $50 thousand fine for misuse of funds.

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Days alert: Gabi is right about one thing: Gwen seems like a skank.** What must it feel like for Ari Zucker to keep getting dragged back into Trump’s dirty laundry??**So good to see Paige and Eddie again!!!! **Phillip is back!** I wish they would give Eve something better to do and like last month, I wish Jack and Jen could really do something . Perhaps they could hustle stories like back in the day.

*****

Jerry Falwell Jr. has been asked by Liberty University to take an indefinite leave of absence as President and chancellor. He has now resigned. As I wrote about months ago, the torrid story of the pool boy has finally come full circle. It’s about time!!

*****

Face the Nation: When asked if he supported the tweet from that seemed to suggest he was ok with Kyle Rittenhouse, the attorney General of Ky. Daniel Cameron Said, “I condone violence on all it’s forms.” So he was of course asked if he meant CONDEMN and he agreed but I am not so sure. The first response seemed closer to the truth.

*****

Alabama legislator Will Dismukes who was spotted at a celebration for the KKK Grand Wizard, is charged with stealing thousands from a floor company he worked at.

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How many Trump friends own pay day loan places?? They must be making a mint on all the desperate poor.** The Trump administration is scaling back protections for over 1,000 species of birds. ** It seems MAGA hats are made in China and Joe’s hats are made in the U.S. by union members.** A Judge has rejected Trump’s latest bid to hide his tax records.

*****

Is this true? Cops make $150 thousand in Chicago to police schools. That is about half of what teachers make. Mind you, officers also still make their regular pay. The school district voted that even if a school decides not to use police in their school, that $ is still allotted for the cops and cannot be used for other things.** Baron Trump’s school is under orders to stay closed.** It is a blessing that the WH, the NBA and some companies can quarantine and test often. How about spreading some of that around to the food vendors or people at the bottom of your food chain?? It isn’t fair that so many small businesses are going under because they have nowhere to turn.

*****

Louis Dejoy was raked over the coals. He claims to have stopped taking mailboxes and sorting machines but the damage is done. He seemed to say ,”no” a lot in the hearing. He does not seem to know much about his post office. Why are the rules different for the Post Office as opposed to other government agencies?? ** Washington postal workers have reinstalled mail sorting machines. Fingers crossed that they keep their jobs.

*****

Arizona Senator McSally told supporters they might come up with more campaign cash for them if they do a bit of fasting.

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I always get a tear when I see John McCain give the thumbs down that day or when he defended Obama from that awful woman during their campaigns.

*****

The DNC went off without much of a hitch. Everybody looked and sounded good. Tammy Duckworth was especially noteworthy.  Bloomberg seemed to have bought himself a prime spot and lashed out at Trump from the business side of things.** Jon Favreau had a good take that the RNC’s message was that if you’re rich and white, you can do anything.** At the RNC: Tom Cotton just said America is safer now than 4 years ago, but one of the themes of this convention is that America’s cities are more violent than ever, -John Avlon** Pence: Make America great again again! WTF?** The last night of the RNC  did not have to compete with sports but the DNC still won the ratings race, if that matters to U.

*****

The Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe has resigned.

*****

What if we just put confederate General hats on all the mailboxes? –Conan** Hurricane Laura knocked down a confederate monument that they had voted to keep.

*****

Claudia Conway is seeking emancipation.  Her parents Kellyanne and George are stepping away from their respective opposing political roles.

*****

The Senate intel committee informed the DOJ in mid 2019 that it believed Trump Jr., Kushner, Eric Prince, Manafort, Bannon, Sam Clovis and Hope Hicks all committed crimes.** Bannon was arrested as well as Brian Kolfage, for pocketing funds from the We build the wall fund that Mexico was supposed to pay for.  Bannon was arrested by the postal service on a yacht belonging to another alleged criminal.

*****

Loved the Colbert show talking about “prayers in the air” and Trevor Noah calling out the ‘militia members’ for what they are: ‘gang members.’

*****

The Nazi brownshirts, or Sturmabteilung were born of unemployed veterans and thugs that the party reached out to act as security for their meetings. –Mike Stuchbery

*****

A former FBI agent has documented white supremacists and militias have infiltrated police across the U.S.

*****

It’s silly to believe an illness can stem from having sex with a demon, but just to be safe I’m giving it up anyway. – Emo Phillips

*****

Kamala Harris means more Maya Rudolph!!!!

*****

So Seth Meyers had a poll about his sea captain and NBC would not let them use their site?? It didn’t matter for it does not seem they took it seriously anyway. The duck, who was not part of the poll is a nice touch though as is the fish. Long live the sea captain!! That is Forte, Armisen and Samberg, right??

*****

Sturgis? Smashmouth ??really??

*****

Sen Penn married Leila George.

*****

If you can convince the lowest white man he’s better than the best colored man, he won’t notice you’re picking his pocket. Hell, give him somebody to look down on, and he’ll empty his pockets for you. –LBJ

*****

What if we’re the weird ones ya’ll , and he’s just Al Yankovic. –George Wallace

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Before Fox news, you actually had to drive to a Klan rally. –LOLGOP

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Larry Wilmore will host a late night show on Peacock.

*****

So, the Black*ish episode that wasn’t, will finally air, now how about letting us see the Gary Cole episode of SVU??

*****

I can’t wait for Ratched, the origin story of Nurse Ratched. Sept. 18 will bring us Sarah Paulson, Judy Davis, Finn Wittrock, Sharon Stone, Amanda Plummer, Vincent D’onofrio and Cynthia Nixon.

*****

Jim Belushi stars in Growing Belushi about his new pot farm.

*****

Why is it so hard for humans to open their minds? From law enforcement rehab to using home grown drugs for pain or listening to different cultures and religions, it should be ez to just listen. Doctors are touting psilocybin for everything from quitting cigarettes to depression.  The effects can be lifesaving and science can save us all. This is not the dark ages but on some days, we would never know that.

*****

Fire-Nado?  Double hurricanes?? Whoa!

***

Many sports teams went on strike.

*****

R.I.P. Reni Santoni, David Rossi, Wilforn Brimley, Gary Knopp, Pete Hamill, John Hume, Daisy Coleman, Helen Jones Woods, Brent Carver, Beirut victims, Brent Scrowcroft, Leon Fleischer, Trini Lopez, Raymond Allen, Sumner Redstone, covid victims, Robert Trump, Matt Heron, Linda Manz, Ash Christian, Robert Ryland, Justin Townes Earle, Allan Rich, Gail Sheehy, Reni Santoni, Jacob Blake, hurricane victims, Kenosha victims and Chadwick Boseman.

[megadarkbouquettidalwavethings]

Meet Yevgeny Prigozhin, the Russian Oligarch Indicted in U.S. Election Interference

“The Americans are very impressionable people; they see what they want to see,” the Russian state news agency Ria Novosti quoted Mr. Prigozhin as saying on Friday. “I have a lot of respect for them. I am not upset at all that I ended up on this list. If they want to see the devil, let them see him.”

Mr. Prigozhin’s critics — including opposition politicians, journalists and activists, the United States Treasury and now Mr. Mueller — say he has emerged as Mr. Putin’s go-to oligarch for that and a variety of sensitive and often-unsavory missions, like recruiting contract soldiers to fight in Ukraine and Syria.

“He is not afraid of dirty tasks,” said Lyubov Sobol of the Anti-Corruption Foundation, an organization established by the prominent opposition leader Aleksei A. Navalny to investigate abuse of state contracts and other illicit schemes.

“He can fulfill any task for Putin, ranging from fighting the opposition to sending mercenaries to Syria,” she said. “He serves certain interests in certain spheres, and Putin trusts him.”

The United States imposed sanctions against Mr. Prigozhin in December 2016, followed by his two main, publicly acknowledged companies, Concord Management and Consulting, and Concord Catering. In doing so, the Treasury Department said he provided extensive support to senior Russian Federation officials, including constructing a military base near Ukraine that was used to deploy Russian troops.

Photo

The United States imposed sanctions against Mr. Prigozhin in December 2016, and then against two of his companies: Concord Management and Consulting and Concord Catering. Credit Mikhail Metzel/TASS via Getty Images

The most notorious venture linked to Mr. Prigozhin, however, is the troll farm that is accused of attacking opposition figures in Russia and seeking to magnify and aggravate social and political divisions in the West. Despite his frequent denials of any involvement, his critics say he and others like him provide a way for the Kremlin to engage in such activities while maintaining a discreet distance.

The indictment on Friday says, among other charges, that Mr. Prigozhin frequently met in 2015 and 2016 with Mikhail I. Bystrov, the top official in the troll factory, which ran a disinformation campaign called Project Lakhta that by September 2016 had a monthly budget of $1.2 million.

Continue reading the main story

Boris L. Vishnevsky, an opposition member of the city council in St. Petersburg, who has called for an official investigation into threats by Mr. Prigozhin against journalists, said the Kremlin endorsed projects like the troll farm without directly organizing them.

“This is done by somebody who receives large-scale government contracts,” he said. “The fact that he gets these contracts is a hidden way to pay for his services.”

When the troll factory was formed in 2013, its basic task was to flood social media with articles and comments that painted Russia under Mr. Putin as stable and comfortable compared to the chaotic, morally corrupt West. The trolls soon branched into overseas operations focused on Russian adversaries like Ukraine and the United States.

Facebook, Twitter and Google have all identified the Internet Research Agency as a prime source of provocative posts on divisive American issues, including race, religion, gun laws and gay rights, particularly during the 2016 presidential election. Facebook found, for example, that the agency had posted 80,000 pieces of content that reached more than 126 million Americans.

Last month, Twitter announced it had started emailing more than 677,000 people in the United States who interacted with accounts from the agency during the election.

Mr. Prigozhin said he was too busy to be interviewed for this article; in fact, he has given just two extended interviews in the past decade. He issued a denial of the accusations of meddling in the 2016 election, however, after a recent investigation published by the Russian newsmagazine RBC.

“Neither Concord Company nor other structures owned by the businessman are in any way connected with the activities directed toward meddling in the U.S. election,” RBC quoted one of Mr. Prigozhin’s representatives as saying.

Dmitri S. Peskov, Mr. Putin’s spokesman, also denied any Kremlin connection to the Internet Research Agency.

Video

How Russian Bots Invade Our Elections

How do bots and trolls work to infiltrate social media platforms and influence U.S. elections? We take a closer look at these insidious online pests to explain how they work.

By NATALIA V. OSIPOVA and AARON BYRD on Publish Date October 31, 2017. Photo by Aaron Byrd/The New York Times. Watch in Times Video »

Despite Mr. Prigozhin’s veil of secrecy, limited details about his personal life have emerged, mostly through the Instagram accounts of his two grown children.

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One picture featured his son, Pavel, walking naked on the deck of the 115-foot family yacht. Other pictures showed a private jet and a vintage powder blue Lincoln Continental, said to be Mr. Prigozhin’s favorite car.

His daughter Polina posted a picture of the sweeping view from his wooded compound in Gelendzhik, the resort town on the Black Sea. The compound, including a pier for the yacht, was built in an ostensibly protected forest much beloved by Mr. Putin and his cronies, according to the Anti-Corruption Foundation.

The day after researchers from the foundation leafed through the Instagram accounts and took multiple screen shots, the accounts went private. The foundation launched a drone over the sprawling family compound outside St. Petersburg to photograph what it said were father-daughter mansions and various amenities, including a full basketball court and a helicopter pad.

Delovoy Peterburg, an independent daily newspaper published in St. Petersburg, listed him last year as ranking 83rd among the city’s 304 ruble billionaires, with 11 billion rubles, or almost $200 million. The newspaper included only property in the public record, said Irina Pankratova, an investigative reporter. If all property linked to him had been counted, she said, he would rank in the Top 5.

Born in 1961 in what was then Leningrad, now St. Petersburg, Mr. Prigozhin showed adolescent promise as a champion cross-country skier that was cut short in 1981 by a prison sentence for robbery and other crimes, according to an extensive biography compiled by Meduza, an online investigative publication.

When he got out after nine years, he started the hot-dog business, which led to his running a chain of convenience stores and eventually to starting several deluxe if kitschy restaurants in St. Petersburg. His patrons “wanted to see something new in their lives and were tired of just eating cutlets with vodka,” Mr. Prigozhin told a magazine called Elite Society.

An old rust bucket that he and his soon-to-be-jettisoned partners converted to the floating New Island Restaurant became St. Petersburg’s most fashionable dining spot.

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Eventually, Mr. Putin himself showed up, towing world leaders. He hosted President Jacques Chirac of France and his wife in 2001 and President George W. Bush in 2002. President Putin celebrated his own birthday there in 2003.

During these glittering occasions, Mr. Prigozhin made sure to hover nearby, sometimes even clearing empty plates.

He was not a chef himself, despite the “Putin’s cook” moniker. But Mr. Putin apparently admired his style. The president “saw how I built my business starting from a kiosk,” Mr. Prigozhin told Gorod 812, a St. Petersburg magazine. “He saw how I was not above serving a plate.”

The first significant state contracts began flowing in after Mr. Prigozhin founded Concord Catering. Starting with the St. Petersburg schools, he moved on to feeding the far more numerous Moscow schools and, finally, most of the Russian military. His trademark became lavish state banquets, including inauguration feasts for both recent presidents, Dmitri A. Medvedev and Mr. Putin.

In just the past five years, Mr. Prigozhin has received government contracts worth $3.1 billion, the Anti-Corruption Foundation reported.

Lately, he has branched out into areas like recruiting contract soldiers to fight overseas and establishing a popular online news service that pushes a nationalist viewpoint, making him even more indispensable to Mr. Putin.

A leading news website in St. Petersburg, Fontanka, which has reported extensively on Mr. Prigozhin’s military contracts, recently discovered another potential source of revenue, perhaps the biggest yet. In exchange for providing soldiers to protect Syria’s oil fields, companies linked to Mr. Prigozhin were awarded a percentage of the oil revenue, the website reported.

Some Russian contract soldiers in Syria were back in the news this month after a Feb. 7 clash between Kurdish forces, backed by the United States, and Syrian government forces aided by Russian mercenaries. Reports about exactly what happened remain murky, but anywhere from five to 200 Russian soldiers have been reported killed. The Russian Foreign Ministry on Thursday confirmed five deaths, but has refused to confirm that it has contract soldiers fighting in Syria, fueling anger among the families of those fighting about the lack of information.

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It has always been difficult to find his fingerprints directly on any of these shadowy firms, said Denis Korotkov, a reporter for Fontanka. The only clues are the companies’ overlapping ties, including the same managers, shared telephone numbers or IP addresses.

After studying this material, Fontanka and the Anti-Corruption Foundation concluded in 2016 that significant government contracts were going to clusters of fake companies designed to circumvent federal rules on competitive bidding.

State regulators also reviewed eight Defense Ministry contracts won by businesses linked to Mr. Prigozhin and issued a stern rebuke in May 2017.

Russian law mandates that any contract go to the lowest bidder, but the winning tenders were only a fraction lower than the rest. Otherwise the bids were virtually identical, the Anti-Monopoly Service said, calling the 2015 bids fixed.

The government announced that it would not press charges. Nobody anticipates Mr. Prigozhin appearing in a Russian court any time soon.

“We don’t expect him to be punished given that he is among the president’s closest friends,” said Maksim L. Reznik, another St. Petersburg legislator demanding that he be investigated.

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NEIL MacFARQUHAR

The post Meet Yevgeny Prigozhin, the Russian Oligarch Indicted in U.S. Election Interference appeared first on dailygate.

[thisisnotasafari]

Dar es Salaam

Dar es Salaam, referred to as “Dar” and usually translated as “haven/home of peace,” is the largest city in East Africa, with a population of around 4.5 million people. The city itself dates back to the mid-nineteenth century and was constructed under the reign of Sultan Majid bin Said of Zanzibar before falling into decline, only to be revived by the German East Africa Company and turned into a hub of industrial and administrative center for German East Africa, those bastards. The city switched into the control of the British during World War I, who spent many years sitting under acacia trees drinking gin fizzes in pith helmets and not realizing how ridiculous they looked. Not much changed until Dar grew quickly after World War II and Tanganyika, as Tanzania was then known, said, “Thanks but no thanks, you pricks,” won independence from colonial rule in 1961. In 1964, it merged with Zanzibar to become Tanzania. It’s a combination of Tan- and Zan-, get it? It took me a few months to figure that one out, so I present it to you here with my compliments.

Tanzania has an incredible capacity for puzzling governmental decisions: In 1974, Dar es Salaam, the country’s main city, main port, and cultural and social heart, located on a picturesque natural harbor, lost its status as official capital to Dodoma, a dry and sprawling city in almost the exact geographic center of the county, significant for the crossing of two main highways, a university, and not much else. The official migration of government powers from Dar to Dodoma wasn’t complete until 1996, more than twenty years later. I like to imagine a caravan of trucks loaded up with official government paperwork, bookshelves, and desk chairs pulling off on the side of a desolate highway. The drivers get out and leave them there. Then a family of monkeys moves in and sets up camp in the trucks. When someone finally starts looking for the missing equipment, they find monkeys sitting at the desks holding an accounting meeting. These are the things I think about early in the morning.

My first experiences in Dar did not present any havens or any peace. The city is chaotic, dirty, pungent, and full of every kind of activity imaginable. It is a true third-world city, with crumbling facades and dirty buildings and stray dogs and people walking barefoot along dirt highways. Teahouses with men in prayer shawls overflowed on street corners, cars honked and swerved and bumped each other at non-existent traffic lights, motorbikes swarmed the roads and sidewalks, and people walked on every available surface. Brightly colored shops lined up next to each other in long rows, stood adjacent to every street, and small mobile phone shops, travel agencies, book shops, and hair salons filled in the gaps. Tall hotels stood dark against the hazy sky, and signs with hand-drawn depictions of celebrities from President Obama to the Notorious B.I.G. advertised barber shops and restaurants—it was often clear to see the cultural influences at play. I once passed a store called “American Visa” in Iringa and wondered idly if anyone mistakenly went there to request travel paperwork and was met with knockoff Gucci t-shirts and soccer jerseys instead.

Told you. Construction cranes dotted the horizon in every direction and it seemed that buildings were in various states of completion wherever I looked. I’m not sure if they were being built or dismantled, but in any case, it is clear that a lot was going on in Dar. Traffic is stifling in every direction, and highways seem to arise out of need, not engineering. If you need to get somewhere, and traffic is stopped, the Tanzanian thing to do is to pull to the shoulder of the road and barrel ahead, tossing pedestrians from your path and grazing the fronts of shops and running over the toes of street vendors. Once enough people start to follow, a new highway is created.

The next day, we were scheduled to meet with a group of young volunteers, many of them in their early twenties, who work as educators and counselors at the Institute of Social Work to provide education on HIV and sexually transmitted diseases. Their clinic stood next to a large soccer field near a university. Rama, my excellent guide, and his colleagues, showed us their office where they administer HIV tests and give pre-/post-test counseling. The volunteers broke us into groups and took us on a tour of Dar. Our first stop was an open-air market near their office. Rama took us deep into a covered labyrinth of stalls made from wood and tarps, jammed next to each other and tables covered with piles of underwear, shoes, t-shirts, soccer jerseys, wigs, cell phones, and multitudes of things. Shoes, agricultural equipment (housed in a giant parking garage-looking structure that also looked like an abandoned sports arena), fake iPod headphones, dresses. I honestly lack the ability to enumerate all of it. I’ve never seen anything like it, ever, anywhere, not even an American mall at Christmas. AND, according to Rama, because of the Eid holiday, it was only about half full. He then took us to a different market, this one underground, where there had apparently been problems with tourists taking pictures in the past. As we entered, he warned us about the vendors not being as friendly. Most people we encountered were curious, at best, or, at worst, indifferent. The only exception to this was a man on crutches who stood on a street corner asking for money. As we passed, he swung himself backwards to get some momentum, like a gymnast preparing for a jump, and kicked me with both legs. It wasn’t a direct hit, thankfully, because I’d already swerved to get out of the path of an oncoming motorbike, and I never figured out what I did to deserve it.

This underground market was truly eerie—it was in a cavernous underground chamber, for lack of a better word, that looked like what I imagine abandoned New York subway tunnels look like. It was dimly lit by yellow bulbs and full of men perched on hulking bags of every conceivable vegetable or fruit imaginable, smoking cigarettes, peeling oranges, and playing board games with soda caps. The smell: ripe, pungent, slightly rotting. Our guides were patient and kind, and offered up many kinds of advice. After the markets, we took our inaugural daladala ride, and Rama’s first piece of advice was to get on the first daladala (small bus) that comes by, even if you don’t think it’s the right one. Daladalas are local buses within Dar, smaller than the public buses in many American cities and comparable to passenger vans. The bus was full almost instantly and we took off with people still jamming the door trying to get in. (Again, Rama said that traffic was down because of the holiday, but on normal work days it’s an actual fight to get a seat.) The bus system was completely foreign to me, but unlike the village, it had a set structure in that the buses only stopped at set points, didn’t dawdle or stop unexpectedly, and actually seemed in a hurry to get where they were going. Once we got off, after about a ten-minute ride across the heart of the city during which a small woman sat on my lap and another small woman repeatedly kicked me in the shins, we walked into the Dar es Salaam Village Museum. Rama negotiated a fair price for a huge group of Americans and had a organized a complex mathematical system by which we were able to pay it.

Since it was now about 1 pm and we were hungry, we (as a full group of about twenty-five people, led by Rama and the others) walked across the street and were met by a team of competing restauranteurs vying for our business. They stood around and tried to entice us, literally beckoning us forward. Once we selected a place, tables for all twenty-five of us appeared and then I set about trying to figure out what I wanted. It wasn’t until some of my companions started asking for substitutions and questioning the ingredients in different dishes on the menu that I realized how stereotypically American we were acting, assuming that things could be made to be just as we wanted them.

Perhaps it was my desire to fit in, to avoid stupid questions and act like I knew what I was doing, but it’s my belief that when dining in a new place, you should pick something from the menu at random, hope it isn’t liver or brains, and eat it without complaint. The existence of vegetarians is laughed at in many places in the world, and such was the case here. People must eat what they can get. In the developed world, at practically any time, day or night, one can get almost anything one desires, whether it’s chocolate cake, chana masala, or a steak the size of a dinner plate. The available variety is staggering, as is the instant gratification. Keeping my frustrations to myself, I ordered beef and bananas, a culinary combination I’d never seen presented before except on a grocery list, and thoroughly enjoyed it.

It’s bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s. We then proceeded to the Village Museum, where we watched four dancers and four musicians perform a beautiful and intricate mix of dances and songs set to varying drum beats. It crossed my mind that they were presenting a mediated version of their heritage for money instead of us going to see the real thing, but I’m not sure what is potentially more harmful: losing their heritage or cheapening it by dancing for tourists at a museum, or tourists infiltrating native villages and clamoring to see dance in its natural form. I’m sure both already happen and will continue to do so.

Since I was unable to solve the issue of cultural appropriation in one afternoon, I focused on the intricacies of the dances. The best part was watching the performers tune and tighten the drumheads by holding them over a fire that was kindled behind a tree. The second-best part was that I wasn’t enlisted from among the crowd to participate in the dancing, as were some of my friends. (See above.) The museum contained about twenty replicas of tribal housing styles from all over Tanzania, along with placards explaining the origin and features of each. They were amazingly constructed, and I grew sweaty inside most, which means they were also well insulated. Most, circular in shape and standing about twenty feet high and fifty feet wide, were partitioned into intricate systems of rooms and hallways and storage areas and depending on the tribe, bedrooms for children, men, women, or first wives and second wives. All were dark and smelled vaguely of manure, smoke, and hay, and only a few had windows or even holes for light to enter. Most were constructed to maximize security and warmth. One even had a “satan shrine” used to exorcise demons, which was the one I decided I’d take if I was offered a choice.

Village Museum. “Satan shrine” not pictured. After walking around for about two hours, we finally left and piled (ALL OF US) onto an already full daladala, standing the entire ride in the middle of the bus, holding onto the bars, while the conductor pushed his way past us on all sides to collect fares starting at the back. At one point he ended up on my lap as he squeezed through, a situation that didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest.

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