“The point of the matter — there is no need. No need to do anything. Because while the Russians drink, quietly not giving a flying f**k, everything goes on as usual. Vodka’s chilling; potatoes are frying. And as soon as the Russians remember about their fallen-by-the-wayside grandeur, about the fate of the beloved motherland, about…whatever it is that you talk about with your guys all the time…then you will start letting each other’s blood. And you will let so much of it that you’ll flood half the continent. This is inevitable, Sasha. Although I really think that you’ll be exterminated first. And if you cynically compare the possible outcomes by l****s of blood, then this may well be the better option. A better and less bloody one.”
“But soon this country will disappear, Bezletov…” Sasha
