Chapter 1

         Russians may take chances on their women or roulette, but not with the security of a G20 Summit. Police and military had been implementing for months a security plan that had been drawn up the day following the terrorist bombing of the 2012 Summit in Mexico.

         For three days every pedestrian and vehicle entering Stel’na of the Petrodvortsovy District, St Petersburg had been stopped, questioned and searched. The precise travel plans of each of the Dignitaries attending the Summit had been subject to utmost secrecy. Media coverage of the event would be via video feed only. And shoot to kill authorisation had been given.

         Whilst Security Officers were confident that infiltration could be thwarted long before a threat could reach within a mile of the Constantine Palace, they were still highly anxious, some bordering on insanity due to the ban on Vodka consumption. Already three solders, twelve police officers and one Brigadier General had been arrested and sent away in disgrace for possession of varying quantities of alcohol.

         No chances could be taken on this shift. In Mexico, six world leaders had lost their lives in one strike. Six countries had been immediately affected, loosing their leadership. In some countries, like Britain the loss of the premiership and the lack of public and parliamentary confidence in the Deputy Prime Minister had invoked the implementation of an emergency general election.

         The terrorist attack sent ripples that rocked the world, but rather than causing the paralysis and knee jerk back lashing that previous attacks had provoked, a new attitude had emerged. Individuals, organisations, governments and populations across the globe had had enough. A cry for peace, a longing for an end to lack, a deep, deep desire for simple common respect and the opportunity to seek and make a simple life. One without being subjected to the stresses of increasing demands on financial and time resources.

         Enough was enough. It was time the world grew up and the world leaders would continue to ignore the common man at their peril. As these world leaders arrived now, some in bullet-proofed RV’s, some by military helicopters and two Naval carriers.

         The Summit began without incident. By midday the participants and security officials began to feel the tension ease. Some ventured to laugh and others dared to tell a joke or two. In April, St Petersburg was not completely unpleasant. If the Summit had been scheduled after August, likely as not nobody would have come, because although a truly spectacular city, it would have been dull, dark, cold and very wet. Miserable.

         July was the month made for St Petersburg. Very long sunny days of 23 degrees Celsius and more. Balmy light evenings of 13 degrees ensured the beautiful architecture of the city could be truly appreciated by all from the numerous cafes and bars.

         However, despite the heightened tension of this Summit, all participants were there for a very specific and different purpose than any preceding Summit. This Summit was going to bring about the change that the world had been calling for. For that reason, the date was set for as soon in the year as possible. April was brisk between 1 and 10 degrees Celsius, but the promise of the pleasant months to come was there, teasing out some joy.

         This Summit was going to be very different from any that had proceeded. Decisions had already been discussed and commitments made. The speeches were for the media to have something to occupy themselves with.

         At 2.32 p.m. Motorola’s began to crackle to life and panicky exchanges made. Security Personnel in the conference began to look distinctly nervous. Two were looking out of the window, which overlooked the Orlovskiy Park. The speaker's audience had moved their attention to the Security Personnel.

         Outside a crowd was moving towards the Summit. A crowd is the wrong word. One million people were walking towards the Summit. At the check points the first people would begin talking to the Police or Military, whilst those behind continued to walk. There was no stopping a million people. Those at the front would have been crushed.

         They walked to the Constantine Palace, assembling in the forecourt and then at the sides and behind the building. When the Palace grounds were full, the roads and park land, streets and fields filled until someone was standing in every a available space around the building.

         They stood quietly.

         A loud speaker squeaked from the direction of Orlovskiy Park. A chant was called out and the crowd joined in. They were deafening and clearly audible from inside the Palace.

         The speaker gave up on his speech, as he was less interested than anyone else. The group were world leaders and as such all led lives very different to the normal man, they were, however, still human and not immune to fear. As the muttering grew in volume and threatened a state of hysteria, President Obama of the USA walked to the front and tapped the microphone to get everyone's attention.

         "Gentlemen, Ladies, please," he scanned the room to draw attention to himself. "It is clear that our agenda needs to change, although not our agreed purpose for being here." There were some nods of agreement. "I would like to propose that we move immediately to a vote on the proposal before us today and then move to signing of the agreement."

         Someone began to clap, which started a round of applause. The President raised his hands for silence. "We can all applaud ourselves later when this situation is resolved. Does anyone know if Mr. Goodman has arrived?" The Dignitaries scanned the room. "He was coming today to help. Has anyone seen Lazarus Goodman?"

         "I think I saw him step outside to use his mobile, Mr. President," an Aide pointed to a side door. A Security Guard stepped through door and emerged with an unassuming man in his early forties.

President Obama smiled broadly. "Mr. Goodman. I think we need a little your magic."



         It was impossible to expect a crowd of one million people to maintain order. Alvin Young wondered what on earth he was thinking of when he first began to organise this protest. He had gauged the mood of the planet well enough, judging by the turn out, but what was he thinking allowing so many to arrive at one time. A hundred thousand would have made the point well enough, surely.

         The people were becoming restless and more rowdy. A windowpane was smashed. A cheer rose. Alvin tried to get the crowd’s attention, but even with the loud speaker, he could not be heard.

Then the crowd roared even louder. Alvin’s heart sank. He tried to see what was happening now. He looked to his colleagues who shrugged their shoulders and strained to view the source of the new entertainment for the crowd.

         Alvin expected to see the crowd surging through the doors of the palace laying destruction in their path, so he was very confused when he realised the crowd was parting at the front doors. Cries of “Make way! Let him through! Make way!” in various languages could be heard.

         A middle aged, slightly built man, dressed in a simple single-breasted suit and a plain red tie, walked down the pathway being made in the crowd. Alvin could hear more cries now.

         “Lazarus! Let him through!”

         The name became a chant and the commotion was becoming clear to Alvin now. He smiled.

         “It’s Lazarus,” he hugged his colleague. “It’ll be OK now, you’ll see. Lazarus is here!”

         Lazarus steadily moved on, crossing the Frontovaya Ulitsa to reach Orlovskey Park and the makeshift platform with the loudspeaker. Alvin knew that nothing he had to say was of any importance now, so he handed the microphone over to his hero without any argument or introduction even.

         "Thank you, Alvin," Lazarus said with a smile and handshake. Alvin was amazed and could not stop smiling and shaking his hand. Lazarus plied his hand free and patted Alvin on the back before turning to the crowd. The crowd was all around him, but somehow he managed to engage with everyone. “Hello!” he greeted and raised his hands to wave.

         The crowd went wild with joy. After a minute he signalled for silence and the masses followed, quieting themselves and waiting for Lazarus to speak.

         “Firstly, I want to thank Alvin and his team for organising this rally. It was very necessary that a public demonstration was made and maintained in the orderly manner that it has been today. So thank you Alvin and thank you protesting public!”

         With that he clapped his hands and the crowd cheered until he signalled for quiet again.

         “I do not need to inform you of the legacy of inaction of previous G8 and G20 Summits. Great and powerful men and women assembled together, always allowing the opportunity to really put heads and wills together to change our world for the better, to pass by year after year.

         The tragedy of last year’s summit shook us all and sparked a fresh desire to make a better world. The loss of six world leaders at that summit has meant that this year, with the exception of President Obama, not one leader at this summit has been in power for more than a two year period. Even the President of the World Bank and the Director-General of the World Trade Organisation were both appointed just a few months ago.

         Reports in the media have speculated that the lack of political experience being brought to the Summit this year will make it even more ineffective.”

         Lazarus stopped to scan his audience, turning full circle.

         “To many of us waiting for a better world, this has been difficult to understand. Experience is limited without desire. I have just come from the close of the first day of the Summit. It has closed early, because the guys in that room today do not have the experience of previous Summits to fall back on and therefore they were not aware that they were meant to talk about nothing for hours on end.

         I can tell you they came with a desire today, to change things for the better.

         I can tell you that a simple three-paragraph resolution was drafted, ratified and signed by all Delegates that will positively impact on billions of people on this planet.”

         The crowd was murmuring encouraging noises of affirmation.

         “I can now tell you, and I have seen the document myself, that as of midnight tonight Pacific Standard Time every single debt held by a developing country will be written off!”

         There was a few seconds silence as his audience took in what was being told them. They had come for a fight and after standing a few short hours, had won more than in reality they could have expected.

         Lazarus drove it home. “My friends, we have won!”

         The cheering rose quickly after this statement. People danced, some groups sang, some knelt, some laughed and some cried. Euphoria on this scale had rarely occurred in history before.

         Alvin’s reaction was to slump. He remained standing, but suddenly felt very tired indeed and his shoulders drooped making his body look as if he was about to melt into the ground.

         Lazarus was shaking his fists in the air with triumph and waving and dancing, but he stopped the second he noticed Alvin’s wilting frame. He walked over to the man, held both of his shoulders and leaned to his ear, so that he could be heard above the revelry.

         “Are you OK?” he shouted. “Alvin! You don’t look so good. Alvin, it’s over!”

         Alvin looked up and caught some the excitement in Lazarus’ eyes. “Is it true? They are really going to cancel all debt?”

         Lazarus nodded wildly and squeezed his shoulders together. "And each country. China cancelled this morning before the Summit had even started! I saw that document as well. It was written in Chinese so I couldn't read the details. But they were all very excited and pleased with themselves, so I believe them. Isn't great? Why aren't you happy?"

         Alvin tried to smile. "I'm happy." Lazarus laughed and hugged him tightly. "Tired, very tired, but happy!"

         Alvin and Lazarus hugged each other for a long time. This was strange, because although the two knew each other very well by reputation, they had never actually met face to face. They had both wanted to. They were very similar in more ways than not.

         Both were idealists still and activists. Both were intelligent, often serious, but also had a corny sense of humour that endeared them to almost everyone they met. Both were in shape, looked good in what they wore, though neither ever spent much money on clothing. Both were wealthy and influential via their own intuition, charm and hard work.

         Both loved the outdoors, which gave them a tender love of the planet. Both loved people and hated anything that hurt people. Crime, prejudice, poverty, disease, wealth disparity, drugs, alcohol. There were plenty of things to hurt people in this world. Both had spent most of their working lives doing what they could to reduce these perils.

         They looked at each other now, without speaking, but with broad grins on their faces that told each other everything they were both thinking.

         It's great to finally win. It's great to finally meet you. There is no one else I would want share this with.

         Finally, Alvin spoke up. "We had better disperse this lot," he pointed to the masses that surrounded them.

         Lazarus nodded, smiled and drew out a business card from his pocket. "This is my personal cell. It is always with me," Alvin took it slightly surprised and checked his pocket for his own.

         "I don't seem to have a card with me, Mr. Goodman," Alvin looked embarrassed.

         Lazarus shook his finger at Alvin. "Lazarus. Please call me Lazarus. Listen, what are doing after this?"

         "Find a hotel and have a drink to celebrate, I guess."

         Lazarus laughed. "No, after this project. Do you have another campaign in mind?"

         Alvin shook his head. "I thought this would take a little longer."

         "I have a project that I think would be interested in and I could really use your help," Alvin could hardly believe his ears. "Give me a call when you have had a rest. I want to get moving on it this month. It will help to start during the euphoria of this success. The world will be expecting more progress."

         "I am intrigued. What is it?"

         "Not here," Lazarus turned to the crowd. "Call me soon."

         Alvin stared at the card and then at this charismatic man, instructing a million demonstrators to peacefully disperse and spend some money in the city of St Petersburg to help the Russian economy.

         He slipped the card in his back pocket and moved towards his colleagues who also looked tired.