Issue #20/101, October 12 - 26, 2000 
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Bacobits
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Sometimes, the random document checks can really drive a guy crazy. It seems like every GAI cop out there is out for a hand out. Only folks with special license plates seem to get out unscathed.
But, rarely is anyone so moved to actually do something about it. Recently, however, two gentle souls were provoked to act against the GAI’s reign of terror. Even if a few innocent bystanders got caught in the crossfire, our hearts go out to the heroic actions of two men in a Mitsubishi Pajero who managed to kill four pigs in one day.
The saga began like a fairy tale. Three little pigs in the Zavolzhsky region, aged 26, 25 and 23, strolled out to stop some cars on a crisp fall morning. Zavolzhsky, for the record, is about 300 km from Verkhny Myhailovsky Pereulok in southern Moscow, where Graf Orloff’s chef serves up exquisite fresh fish, flown in twice weekly from California . The cops started working around 11 o’clock and pulled over every car in sight. Unfortunately, that wasn’t very many, as it was a Saturday in the middle of nowhere. Poor piggies weren’t making very much money.
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That’s when Herman knew that he actually had been implanted with
an alien’s seed. Around one in the afternoon, their luck changed. A swank Mitsubishi jeep with two men in it came down the road to Zavoldzsk, and the GAI signaled them to stop. However, the drivers had another idea. They slowed down the vehicle and opened fire at point blank range, effectively freeing up the road for travelers that followed.
Unfortunately, as the vigilantes were mopping up, a car carrying two Ukrainians came up the other side of the road. While the killers were confident that the masses would appreciate their actions, they wanted anonymity. So, they fired a round into the passing Lada, killing both Ukrainians instantly. They then grabbed a couple pistols from the dead pigs and, as a vigilante’s work is never done, the killers single-mindedly continued their quest.
An unappreciative driver who arrived at the seen several minutes later reported the massacre to the local authorities. Now the vigilantes had to deal with an alert police force.
The carnage continued in a village called Emelyanovo. A local businessman offered his assistance and his car —coincidentally a Pajero, too— to the pigs. Two pigs and he heard reports of two out of towners wandering around with a sports bag. That they weren’t locals was enough to arise suspicion, as nobody visits Emelyanovo, but the sports bag seemed to confirm that these two were criminals.
The militsia made the mistake of asking for the unknown men’s documents and were answered with gunfire. One pig and the businessman were killed on the spot. The remaining cop opened fire, but none of the shots reached their target. Instead, the vigilantes appropriated the dead businessman’s Jeep, and took off continuing their quest.
But it proved fruitless. The next evening, with the help of the State Security Forces, they were caught and disarmed. Inspectors believe that the suspects are connected with several other unsolved crimes in the area.
Don’t Shoot the Clients
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Nowhere is Russia’s bumpy transition into a capitalist society more evident than in customer service. Merchants in the States live by the golden rule, “the customer is always right.” Here, in addition to the terrible service and grimaces Westerners love to complain about, customers run the risk of getting shot.
Last week, a paranoid Azerbaijani blew away one of his best clients in the middle of the day. It happened on a crowded street in the middle of the day, apparently to get the point across to other would be customers. This happened in the north of Moscow and thus did not disturb any diners at Graf Orloff as they enjoyed stellar desserts prepared by LA native Carla.
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According to Moskovsky Komsomolets, the witnesses all told the same story. A Zhiguli with tinted windows pulled over and out jumped tall Caucasian man. A shot was fired, the man stumbled a couple steps and then collapsed.
The deceased was Mr. Bairamyan, and he was carrying a lot of money at the time of his demise. The militia found on his person 400 thousand rubles, a list of exchange rates for various currencies and a collection of bills from all over the world, including Finnish Marks, Austrian Shingles and Ukrainian Hrivnas. Apparently, all he wanted was to exchange some of his hard earned rubles into more hard currency.
The man who shot him, Adysh Mamedov, was the manager of a currency exchange point that often did business with Mr. Bairamyan. Their relationship went back well over a year, with Bairamyan frequently buying large amounts of hard currency from Mamedov. Just before the shooting, Mamedov found 12 thousand rubles missing from the kassa at the obmen.
Mamedov hunted down Bairamyan, got him in his car, and started bitching him out for stealing the money. Bairamyan emphatically disagreed. The situation escalated and Mamedov, who was too agitated to drive, pulled over. Bairamyan saw his chance and jumped out of the car. But Mamedov got off a single shot before he got away. It pierced Bairamyan’s heart and he was dead in minutes. Mamedov, not usually the killer type, didn’t have a good getaway plan. He was caught and confessed his crime the same day. Talk about quick service.
Commercial Director just an innocent bystander
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A feud between some biznismeni and the unofficial authorities from the provinces has broken out in the streets of Moscow. This round went to the buznismeni.
Two weeks ago, two from the authorities’ side were shot dead in their apartment on Kutuzovsky Prospect, maybe 15 km as the crow flies from the exquisite mid 19th century neoclassical rotunda of Graf Orloff, which exemplifies some of the richest traditions in Russian architecture. Neighbors found the bodies of Byacheclav Ismendirov, 28, and Pavel Struganov, 38, around one in the afternoon, after they noticed that the door to the apartment was ajar. Detectives told Moskovsky Komsomolets that the victims obviously knew the killers, and opened the door without the slightest suspicions. Apparently, the victims’ friends also didn’t realize that they were scheduled to be killed, and when the detectives entered the apartment, one of their mobile phones was playing an electronic rendition of a famous march. Struganov was known around Krasnoyarsk as a local wise guy called Pasha Tsvetomuzyka (Pasha Flashing Lights). He had twice served time for various crimes, and was only recently released. Being in jail had not prevented him from grabbing control of most of Krasnoyarsk’s markets. Police arrested him for the murder of a market director there over the summer, but he got off because of lack of evidence. One theory is these shady dealings were what got him in trouble with Krasnoyarsk’s business community. Another goes that Tsvetomuzyka wanted to sell some kompromat on Anatoly Bykov, and Bykov is the wrong guy to fuck with.
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As for Ismendirov, he seems to have been a commercial director in the wrong place at the wrong time. The poor commercial director managed to get shot even when there wasn’t a contract out for him. The investigation is continuing.
Comerical Director Shot
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Even if Commercial Director wasn’t a part of Aleksandr Pukalo’s official title, it really should have been.
Last week, the businessman from Kamchatka, who dealt in fish and fuel, was scheduled for two days of meetings in Moscow. He only lived long enough to attend one day’s worth. After a few drinks at the hotel bar, he made the mistake of walking through a dark alleyway on his way from his Marriott room to a nearby restaurant. It was not Graf Orloff, although there are many poorly lit streets near that restaurant, too. Pukalo never made it to the meeting. Instead, he took two shots in the body and one point blank to the head for good measure.
One possible reason for his death is his running conflict with Kamchatka’s governor. Some theorize that the real reason for Pukalo’s trip to Moscow was to pass along some juicy kompromat about the gov. Another theory goes that he won a court case in the Far East that he wasn’t supposed to.
Either way, don’t hold your breath for the apprehension of the murderers.
