Battlefield Russia

by James Rosone

  When the tide of war started to turn against Russia, Grigory knew it was only a matter of time before things ended for the Motherland. He also knew Petrov wouldn’t allow Russia to be defeated. He would use whatever weapons were necessary to win. When Vasilek’s plan to depose the British prime minister fell apart and was exposed, Grigory knew this was his moment to seize control of the FSB and try to bring the war to an end in a way that didn’t involve the destruction of the nation he’d spent his entire life serving.

  First, he needed to get rid of Vasilek. His utter failure in the UK, along with his faulty assessment of the Americans and their willingness to wage war, gave him the opportunity he needed. With Vasilek out of the way, he could then work to establish a separate peace with the Americans that would save Russia, assuming, of course, that he was able to depose Petrov himself. After months of hunting down Alexei Kasyanov, he was finally able to secure a private meeting with the man. A secret pact was formed to bring an end to the war. Now it was time for him to put into place the means to do just that. He loved his country even more than the man who led it.

  With the snow falling outside his window, Grigory shook off his memories. He looked at his friend Gennady, who he’d known for fifteen years. When he’d taken over command of the FSB’s antiterrorism branch, he’d leveraged Gennady to help him build an elite antiterrorism unit within the FSB. As Grigory had risen in rank, he’d brought Gennady along with him.

  Grigory nodded. “I spoke with Oleg ten minutes ago,” he said. “Dmitry is with us and has the Kremlin fortress already on lockdown. No one will be able to get in or out of there once the plan goes into effect.”

  “I’m more concerned with what happens if one of the generals is able to make a call to one of the military barracks,” Gennady countered. “If they’re able to call for help, it could be a real problem for us.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Grigory answered. He stood and looked out the window. The snow was starting to fall more steadily now, and the BTR and BMP parked just outside his building were being covered in snow.

  An hour went by, and then Grigory’s phone chirped. “Begin Operation Morning Glory,” the text message read. Grigory smiled. His time to seize power had finally come.

  He looked at Gennady. “It’s time,” he announced. “Get your troops moving and let’s secure the capital.”

  Walking outside Lubyanka, Grigory heard the sound of gunfire, right on cue. He walked over to the BTR that would take them to the Kremlin fortress and climbed in, closing the hatch. Through the thick outer shell of the vehicle, he heard more gunfire, and then a couple of explosions went off.

  “All part of the plan,” he had to remind himself. They had to make the President and the generals believe the Kremlin was under attack by the FSB. It was the only way to get them all into the bunker. By the time they realized what was happening, it would be too late.

  Ten minutes later, his BTR and a couple of other Spetsnaz vehicles arrived at the checkpoint leading into the Kremlin fortress. The soldiers manning the roadblock saluted smartly, letting them pass. Driving up to the main entrance of the Senate Palace, Grigory got out of the vehicle and was pleasantly surprised to see that Colonel Chayko had assembled a line of soldiers standing at parade rest, leading into the building. The soldiers snapped to attention, presenting arms as he exited the BTR and made his way to the entrance. Major General Oleg Zolotov and Colonel Dmitry Chayko were also standing there waiting for him at the entrance to the building.

  After rendering a salute, General Zolotov extended his hand. “It’s good to see you, Mr. President. Everything is in order,” he said.

  Grigory liked the sound of that. “Mr. President,” he thought with a smile.

  “I assume you have everyone locked up in the bunker?” he verified.

  “Yes, Sir. I also have the rest of the cabinet members being rounded up and moved to the other bunkers as well. I should have confirmation in the next five to ten minutes that they have all been successfully secured. Once we have them in place, do you want to have them liquidated before or after you announce that you’ve taken control of the government?” Oleg inquired.

  “I want all of them brought here to meet with me,” Grigory asserted. “I’d like to address them as a group and explain why we’ve done what we’ve done. Anyone who is not willing to accept the truth and work toward a new Russia, I will gladly have you liquidate. As to Petrov and his central leadership in the bunker, I want you to bring them outside the building and have them shot. Line them up against the wall of the Senate Palace, video the execution and give it to me. We’ll figure out how to use that video to our benefit to solidify our power. Once I’ve assumed control of the government and the armed forces, I have to make contact with the Americans and our friend Alexei. For that, I will be relying on you, old friend.”

  The two men talked for a couple of minutes while they made their way into the building. Oleg had the men in the bunkers disarmed and brought to the courtyard. Oleg and Grigory watched from the gazebo as the senior generals of the armed forces, along with the Minister of Defense and the President, were marched outside the building. It was amazing to see how these ruthless men of power, the very men who had ordered the deaths of so many tens of thousands of people, begged for their lives.

  Grigory walked up to the former leaders of Russia, approaching Vladimir Petrov fearlessly. “You had a chance to lead Russia into the 21st century as a real world power,” he said with disdain in his voice. “You squandered that opportunity on a war we had no chance of winning, and for what? To bring back an empire that will never rise again? Your time is over, Mr. President. We won’t let you destroy our country and rain nuclear death upon us or the rest of the world.”

  In response, Petrov spat in his face. Grigory shook his head in disgust and walked back to the gazebo, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping away the saliva on his face. He nodded toward Colonel Troshev, who barked a series of orders to his men.

  They held their weapons at the ready, waiting for the command to fire. Troshev looked at Grigory for the go-ahead, and he gave a slight nod. Then Troshev yelled, “Fire!”

  His Spetsnaz soldiers unloaded on the former leaders of Russia. Each of them was riddled with bullets, collapsing into a heap on the ground. Colonel Troshev personally walked up to each of the bodies, firing a single shot to the head to make sure they were truly dead.

  With the formalities of assuming control of Russia now complete, Grigory walked back into the building and proceeded to walk up to the former president’s office, where he would make his call to the CIA contact that would put him through to the American president.

  *******

  Senate Palace

  Two Hours Later

  Colonel Chayko’s regiment secured the remaining members of Petrov’s cabinet and gathered the remaining members of the government for an emergency meeting at the State Duma Building at 5 p.m. that evening. With the city effectively on lockdown, it would be hard for any Petrov loyalists to escape. General Sobolev had also placed several calls to some of the senior military leaders who had not been rounded up yet and told them they needed to report to the Kremlin immediately. While some of them balked at being ordered to meet with him, a few of them might have suspected they knew why and breathed a sigh of relief—no one more so than the general in charge of Russia’s strategic rocket forces.

  With the wheels of change in motion, Grigory Sobolev was ready to talk with the Allies and begin the process of ending the war. An aide had arranged for a 3 p.m. call to take place with President Foss—however, the one caveat to the call was that Alexei Kasyanov had to be present. Alexei was considered by the Allies to be a key part of this peace deal, and despite the Americans agreeing to Sobolev taking Petrov’s place, the future of Russia would be Alexei Kasyanov and his Free Russia party.

  Walking into what had previously been Petrov’s personal office, Grigory saw Alexei there, along with several of his trusted aide
s, Colonel Chayko, and General Zolotov. “The call is connected, Mr. President. We’re just waiting for the American president to join,” explained one of the colonels.

  Grigory nodded. He was glad to see that Alexei had been able to safely make it to the Kremlin grounds. The group chatted for a few minutes, going over some items that would need to be discussed when there was a click on the other end.

  “Hello, this is President Wally Foss, the American president,” Foss announced. “To whom am I speaking?”

  Everyone looked at each other for a second before Grigory responded. “I’m Lieutenant General Grigory Sobolev, the Head of the FSB and now the current leader of Russia. I have several of my key advisors and military leaders present as well. Of note, Mr. Alexei Kasyanov is also present as requested.” The rest of the people in the room introduced themselves briefly.

  “General Sobolev, am I correct in assuming you have taken control of the military?” asked Foss.

  “Yes, Mr. President. I’ve made contact with the senior leaders of all branches of the military, and all but a couple of division commanders have recognized my authority as the new president. The two units that have not yet specifically accepted my authority are based in the Far East. Let me cut to the chase—what I’m sure you are most concerned with is our nuclear arsenal. I have spoken with the head of our strategic rocket forces and the head of our naval submarine command, and they have all acknowledged me as the new president.”

  They all heard President Foss let out a deep breath. “General, this is good news. I’m glad the two of us are finally able to speak,” he replied, clearly relieved.

  “Mr. President, if I may, I would like to move forward with discussing terms of surrender. Our countries have bled enough; it’s time to end this war before it spirals any further out of control,” Sobolev offered.

  “Yes. Yes, General, I agree,” Foss answered. “I believe the CIA and Alexei presented you with the original terms of surrender. You, of course, will be allowed to remain for a two-year period as president of a caretaker government until a proper election can be held and a government can be formed.”

  The general grunted. “Yes, I remember the terms and accept. I do have one caveat—I request that my government be allowed to retain at least 300 of our nuclear weapons. I fear that a complete denuclearization of the Russian Federation would leave our country far too vulnerable to future enemies.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line while the Americans discussed this. They couldn’t hear every word, but essentially their sentiment was that, while reducing the number of nuclear weapons down to 300 would be a remarkable feat, the goal was complete denuclearization.

  “General Sobolev, I understand the reasons why you feel you need to keep some nuclear weapons,” Foss acknowledged. “However, I do have to question at what point you believe you would need to use them. Because this war has shown the world that their use not only is abhorrent but will lead to an escalation of further use. I don’t see a future enemy of Russia against whom such weapons could possibly be needed. Do you?”

  Sobolev took a moment to formulate his response. With the mute button on, he talked this over with General Zolotov.

  “If we wouldn’t use them now, at this juncture, then when would we use them, Sir?” Zolotov inquired.

  “It’s not that I want to use them, but I do want security guarantees,” Sobolev answered. “I need to know that we won’t be hung out to dry in a couple of decades when the wounds of this war have healed.”

  After some further discussion, General Grigory Sobolev took a deep breath, then depressed the mute button to return to the conversation. “Mr. President,” he began, “if Russia is to fully denuclearize, then I need a security guarantee from the United States that if Russia is attacked by an outside power, the United States would be militarily obligated to come to our aid. I would like that guarantee to be in writing for up to twenty-five years, along with a $100 billion economic aid and reconstruction package for our nation. You are, after all, essentially buying our entire stock of nuclear weapons, which I might add is still quite vast.”

  The others in the room with Sobolev nodded in approval of his approach.

  The Americans had clearly decided to utilize the mute button themselves, because a few moments of silence passed. Then, after a pause, President Foss came back on the line. “General Sobolev, I’ve spoken with my military advisors about your proposition. In principle, we agree with the security guarantee. However, I’m not willing to give Russia a $100 billion economic aid package. Our nation has suffered horrifically from this war, including the major cities on our West Coast that were completely obliterated. Millions of my people have been killed or displaced by the war. We can agree to give you $25 billion in hard currency to aid in your reconstruction. Is this acceptable for the complete denuclearization?”

  General Sobolev looked at the men around the table. They all nodded in agreement, elated that they had been able to elicit even $25 billion in aid and a 25-year defense agreement. These two things would allow the country to focus heavily on rebuilding before they had to think about defense again.

  “Yes, this will be a win for the people of Russia,” thought Sobolev. He hated to think about how much his own people had already suffered during the war.

  “Mr. President, I can agree to those terms, and speaking for my nation, I thank you for allowing us to end this war on mutually agreed-upon terms that respect both of our nations.” He paused for a moment. “Let’s move on to the occupation and when that will begin. If I may, I would like to suggest a three-day cooling period before your forces move to occupy our cities. I would like to order my armies to return to their garrisons, where they will wait to be greeted by your forces. They can then work out the best way to manage the occupation,” Sobolev proposed.

  “General, these are agreeable terms,” President Foss answered. “I will leave you with my generals and advisors to go over further details. I must excuse myself to consult with the rest of the Alliance and inform General Cotton to cease hostilities with your forces. I look forward to talking with you again soon.”

  The military leaders talked for a while longer, going over more details of the occupation. They agreed that a contingent group of Allied officers would fly to Moscow immediately to begin work on coordinating a full ceasefire across the country. It was time to end the war and stop the killing as quickly as possible. With millions of soldiers on both sides still locked in battle, it was critical that things start to deescalate.

  Victory over Russia

  St. Petersburg, Russia

  Command Sergeant Major Luke Childers couldn’t believe the war was finally over. He gazed across the Bolshaya Nevka River at the Petrogradsky District of the city they hadn’t captured yet. The bridges across the river lay in ruins, destroyed by the Russian Army as they continued to fall back. The river had finally iced over sufficiently that they could now cross it on foot, but the order never came to seize this last bastion of Russian resistance.

  Two hours earlier, a message had been sent from headquarters letting them know that the war was officially over; the Russians had surrendered. When the news was disseminated to the rest of the Corps, the men broke out into spontaneous celebration. Many of them were elated that they had survived—yet the danger was not completely over. The Russians who were less than a few hundred meters away needed to be made aware of the surrender, and hopefully they would go along with it.

  A brigadier general from the V Corps had assembled a small cadre of officers and senior NCOs near the edge of the Russian lines to head out to meet their Russian counterparts. Sergeant Major Childers joined the group as they raised a large white flag and approached the enemy. Several tense moments passed.

  Finally, a small group of soldiers came to meet with the American contingent, who made their request to speak with the senior Russian commander. It took nearly half an hour for the Russian general to be tracked down and travel to meet them. When the group did fin
ally gather together in the same room, the US delegation informed the Russian general of the formal surrender by Moscow.

  At first, the Russian commander didn’t believe the news. However, then he learned of the coup and read the transcript of the surrender between Lieutenant General Sobolev and President Foss. He sat down on a nearby chair, dejected at first, and then he couldn’t help but cry for a moment.

  As Childers watched this man fall apart before him, his own eyes got a bit misty. He understood the crazy mix of emotions the commander must be going through. His soldiers had fought and bled for their country for more than two years, ultimately losing. However, they had survived, and he must also be filled with relief that the war was officially over.

  When he had had a moment to recover, the Russian general announced, “I will inform my soldiers at once and order them all to surrender their weapons to you and the other Allies.”

  The rest of the day went by relatively smoothly as unit after unit of Russian soldiers lined up in the streets to discard their weapons. One by one, they slowly grouped off into unarmed formations, where they waited for the Allied troops to enter their sections of the city and take possession of them. No one offered any resistance. Many of these soldiers were tired and underfed and just wanted to return home to their families.

  *******

  Two days after the surrender, Sergeant Major Childers was walking through the Peter and Paul Fortress in the heart of the city as his regiment moved in to assume control of this critically important fortress. Judging by the fortifications he’d seen up to this point, the Russians had intended on turning this into a bloody contest if the Allies had wanted to seize it.