Here some of us interjected with our own questions. Intrigued, we sat alight beside our provisions heavily consumed yet hardly full. We pondered aloud how many there were, what they were like, what the plan was for the trade, and so on and so forth. Ruskov was more than happy to answer all the questions and as it turned out, the questions guided him through the next leg of the story which was the second leg of his journey.
“They threw me into the SUV and sped off in the much smoother ride. We arrived at border patrol, or what the Iranians apparently called border patrol, and just sped around everyone. No one stopped us, not a bell or a siren to alert others that we had just blatantly broken through the border. It was done as if all arranged. But again, all things considered, it really could have been taken care of all in advance. Clearly I was kept in the dark about a lot of the inner workings of this deal.”
“We drove into Tehran first on that clear morning and I already was nervous as to what exactly was going on. There was a lot of swerving in traffic for no reason, although I suppose it was no more than what I would expect in most large Asian cities I’ve been to.”
“This is where it really was like a movie.” He repeated.
“We set off for the desert after they inhaled two more cigarettes each. I was rushed into the SUV and off we went. The stoplights were merely decoration across the blue and white sky. The tint of the SUV windows made everything gray and bland. They said nothing the entire way to our meeting place where I would be doing the exchange. Actually, I wasn’t even sure who I would be doing the trade with, or where and exactly when for that matter. It was out of my hands. I was just the holder, and what I was holding was sometimes more than I could control.”
He stopped briefly again to take a sip and to make nice with the waitress. As he stumbled through the native language of the land I chuckled, although I can’t say I would have been much better. The juxtaposition of someone willing to take such risks and presumably succeed but become powerless before a language barrier is an idea to really try to wrap your mind around. As it turns out, I would be too unattractive to work at that restaurant but was attractive enough for the female owner to sexually harass me the rest of the night.
“Now you have to understand that I had no expectations up to this point. Sergei left me about 99% in the dark despite the fact that he knew exactly how much BTC I wanted to sell and for exactly how much money. Specifically Rubles. I was going to be trading this all for Russian Rubles since that would be the easiest currency for me to be carrying anywhere and then to deposit and do with what I liked. Everyone is always so worried about the US government catching them when dealing with BTC but this was so far out of their jurisdiction that it wasn’t a thought to me until I got back here and saw all the constant paranoia from people about what the US government will do. Although I guess being around Americans all the time will have that effect on a person. All I knew was how much BTC I had and how much money I was going to get for it.”
“We made our way out of Tehran so I thought ‘ok we aren’t doing this in the city…’ which I suppose makes sense. We meandered through less and less traffic as it thinned out pretty quickly outside of Tehran. It got to a point where I started white knuckling my phone. My nerves were getting to me over the thoughts going through my head, not least of them being that maybe you guys are right and I am crazy.”
“We reached another wide open desert area. That was my second of the day! The most desert I had seen maybe since visiting Mongolia. A dark figure appeared in the distance which stood out clearly since everything around it was flat and beige. In an instant we came up on the figure: another black SUV. I swear, it is just like in the movies. Anyone who buys a black tinted-glass SUV is almost certain to be doing something illegal.”
“This was the place. This is where it was going to happen without a doubt, but I wasn’t sure about who was going to come out of the other SUV until a white robed man was lifted out of his massive SUV with 3 huge duffle bags and 4 armed guards. Now I need to tell you what this guy looked like: classic middle eastern looking guy like in the movies with the robes and the super long beard. Like a character from The Alchemist. So basically, what happened was this: those guys came out and my security guys got out. They were talking about something. I don’t know what. That’s one common thing about this whole situation is that I didn’t understand a damn thing anyone is saying.”
“Eventually they said ‘ok ok’ and my head security guy comes to me and says “You don’t come out. No come out!” I understood that, at least. No protest from me. I’m sitting there when the white robed guy walks up to the window about as slowly as he could.”
“You are _______________?”
“Yeah I’m selling Bitcoin.”
“Do you have your wallet?”
“Yeah let me get on my laptop and I’ll show you… Here is my balance. I’ll log out and log back in again to confirm it.”
“So then this guy turns his head maybe 20 degrees over and nods really quickly but sharply. He tilted over just a bit more and nodded again when his security detail carried over these huge fucking bags that were big enough to be a palette of cash. Then they go back into their truck and reach in for more bags. 6 total bags that could have fit two of me each were sitting at the wheels of my SUV and under the guard of some random assault rifle wielding gentlemen I just hired for protection.”
“At this point I was getting shocked. It was no longer even real because of course there were more bags. How could there be only 3 bags? Why not more?”
“My security guy then came up to me through the window and asked if I knew this random middle eastern guy.”
“He’s the guy I’m doing business with but I don’t really know him, no.”
“How do you know the money is real?”
A moment’s thought.
“That’s a good fucking question.”
“Wait.”
“He got out his phone and called someone. Of course I didn’t know who. But we all are sitting there for 20 minutes for what, I don’t know, not that it’s really that big of a deal because we were only about 15 minutes from Tehran so it would have been easy to get back, when a dune buggy came out of nowhere like it just materialized out of sand.”
“The guy in the dune buggy got out and all my security detail got all bro-ish, or what I assume is bro-ish in whatever language they were speaking, but it all seemed like some kind of mouth breathing meathead grunts of some sort. He pulled out a machine and started scanning the bags like *beep**beep**beep* and then moving to the next bag and *beep**beep**beep* and so on. I guess it was a cash scanner that can somehow validate the authenticity of money. Meantime the buyer was standing around casual as could be the whole time since this was probably his work for the day, coming out to the desert to do some arbitrage.”
“When the scan was finished my security detail told me it was all fine. I looked at him and tried to spit out something about being sorry. I think what I said was “It’s my first time.” I’m not sure but I think that’s the word I used. He looked at me none too impressed.
“So we headed into what I presume was Tehran to eat. There were no buildings for restaurants here though, it’s all tents. There are rows upon rows of tents like Mongolia. We head into some famous restaurant with a bunch of cars around and people filling every seat. Our SUV’s pull up then two of my guys mumbled something to each other, sunglasses fixed tightly over their eyes, and sauntered towards the restaurant. One of them walks up to the front of this tent with his gun of course but no one seems to care. As soon as we walked in, everyone in there got up and left. It was like this: the one guy, the driver, whispered something into the ear of the owner of the restaurant then I swear, no joke, within seconds everyone just dropped what they were doing and got up to leave.”
“Some of these people weren’t even facing us but they somehow just knew it was time to go. Maybe they saw the urgency in the eyes of the patrons; who knows. I couldn’t tell if it was planned, and if it was planned, whether this would be my demise at bequest of my DOTA friend, or if this restaurant was one of their regular places where they enjoyed a special arrangement with the owner so he knew what was up as soon as they walked in.
“Then again it could just be an Iran thing. I really have no idea.”
“The tent was not that small. Imagine your typical popular neighborhood restaurant and that’s about the size it was. The thing that really made me wonder about what I was doing there was that by the time I got in there, everyone was gone and only one table in the very middle of the restaurant was set for us. The owner came and treated us like kings and even wanted to sit with us to eat. He spoke perfect English and laughed childishly at me.”
Inquiring minds had to wonder about what was eaten, how much was eaten, if Ruskov had exchanged Whatsapp contacts with the owner of this restaurant, and any number of minute irrelevant details. Onions sizzled as we threw fresh ones on the grill beside more beef. Throw them all on. Smoke crept out from the sinews of the meat and made a pass by us before departing for oblivion. Our mouths salivated for more as our ears burned on.
To be continued…
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