However, what really had Petrov on edge was the fact that the Americans and the British had uncovered the FSB plot to remove the former Tory government in favor of one that would end the United Kingdom’s involvement in the war. To that end, he had called an urgent meeting.
“These answers had better be good,” he thought as he stared at some fish in his aquarium, fighting over a piece of food. He couldn’t help but think how the world situation was not unlike the struggle he observed before him.
“Everyone is ready in the briefing room,” one of Petrov’s bodyguards told him, breaking his temporary trance. He stood up and headed toward the briefing room with his bodyguards in tow.
Petrov had recently insisted on having a set of bodyguards with him twenty-four hours a day, regardless of what he was doing. He’d also doubled the number of guards protecting his family, which he had moved to a well-furnished dacha near the Urals, far away from the American bombing attacks.
As Petrov entered the briefing room, everyone rose from his or her seat out of respect before he signaled for them to sit. Surveying the faces of the men and women at the table, Petrov could sense their unease. They squirmed in their seats.
Not beating around the bush, he jumped right in. “How did the British and Americans uncover our deception with Prime Minister Chattem? And what has happened to our man, Maksim Sokolov?” he inquired. He stared icily at his senior advisors, the men who had assured him this could never happen.
Ivan Vasilek shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The tables had been turned. Ivan was usually the one assaulting his subordinates with these types of pointed questions. However, he obviously did not enjoy the feeling of being put on the spot himself.
With all eyes looking at Vasilek, he sighed deeply before eventually looking Petrov in the eyes. “We were betrayed. I was betrayed, and for that, I am supremely sorry.”
Taking this in, Petrov’s eyes burned with rage. “Betrayed! How? Who?” he demanded.
“Major Petr Yelson, a young and very promising officer in my British directorate,” Vasilek responded, hanging his head low. “He was assigned to work for Sokolov and handle his reports and electronic files here in Moscow. He also met with him on a number of occasions prior to the war, so they knew each other personally. In his role, he knew everything about the Chattem deception, from the political assassinations to the domestic attacks, the role the Antifa organization played in inciting domestic destabilizations, to our Red Storm social media disinformation campaign. From what I’ve been able to learn, somewhere in the last month or so, he became disillusioned with the war and found a way to reach out to Alexei Kasyanov.”
There was a collective gasp. Then grumblings and curse words were muttered throughout the room as the full magnitude of this betrayal became clear. Petrov stood up, not saying a word, and paced for a second, too angry to talk. He then burst out in a tirade of profanity at Vasilek for allowing this to happen. Petrov was so enraged that he grabbed a nearby pitcher of water and threw it at the wall, shattering it in a loud crash.
“I ought to have you shot!” he yelled at Vasilek, whose eyes suddenly grew large as saucers. “You realize, this leak, this betrayal, has compromised our entire war effort! The entire war plan and strategy has essentially been given to the enemy. This Major Yelson will be a veritable treasure trove to the Allies for years to come!
“I want this man’s family rounded up and executed,” Petrov ordered. “Video the execution, and make sure it’s sent to whoever he defected to. I want him to know that his actions have consequences. He’s betrayed his country and cost the lives of countless thousands — his family’s death doesn’t even begin to make up for the damage he’s done to our country!”
The others in the room looked aghast as they, too, suddenly realized that nearly a decade’s worth of time, effort, and planning had just been revealed to the enemy. Their looks of shock turned to looks of anger and betrayal. Several of them seemed to be drilling holes into Vasilek’s skull with their eyes.
Taking a moment to calm himself down and collect his thoughts, Petrov spoke again, more softly this time. “What is being done to minimize the damage?” he asked.
Foreign Minister Dmitry Kozlov joined the conversation at this point. “Sir, as of this morning, the British opposition party introduced a no-confidence vote in the government, and the Home Secretary issued an arrest warrant for Prime Minister Chattem. He’s currently under house arrest until he’s officially removed from power. The public outcry at the realization that he had helped to orchestrate multiple Tory assassinations and the cruise missile attack that hit five British cities has enraged the public. There are already calls for the British to rejoin the Global Defense Force and restart hostilities against us.”
“How is this affecting our operations on the continent right now?” asked Petrov. He wanted to know if their offensive could still accomplish its goal or if they would have to start playing defense again.
“For the moment it has had no effect,” answered Alexei Semenov, the Minister of Defense. “However, if the British do reenter the war, then we are going to see their fighters return. It will take time for their ground forces to redeploy, but within a month we could expect to see large British ground forces again. Putting aside the possible return of British forces, I believe that militarily, our larger concern is the destruction of our oil refineries and pipeline near Volgograd and Makhachkala on the Caspian Sea. These two attacks just severed more than 40 % of our entire petroleum production. This is going to cut our fuel stocks at the front by significant margins.” The poor man looked very worried, like he had just swallowed a rotten bowl of borscht.
“How far have our forces reached?” asked Petrov.
“In the south, our forces captured Trnava, Slovakia, roughly 57 kilometers east of Bratislava and Brno, Czech Republic,” answered General Boris Egorkin, the Army Chief of Staff. He pulled up a map on his tablet. “In the center, with great help from our Indian counterparts, we broke through the Allied lines and captured Kraków. However, the GDF has hit us repeatedly with counterattacks, and I don’t believe we’ll be able to hold the city for more than a few days, maybe a week. In the north, our forces were stopped cold just north of Lublin. We have been unable to break past the German and French forces there.”
President Petrov ran his fingers through his hair, calculating his next move.
“Generals, I want a plan by tomorrow on how we are going to hold on to our gains while Minister Kozlov works to put an end to the war,” he announced. “We will try to secure an end to hostilities, with us retaining control of eastern Ukraine in exchange for withdrawing our forces from the captured territories. We’ll see if President Foss is willing to save the lives of his countrymen, or if he will continue this war.”
Petrov then angrily looked at his FSB Director. “As for you, you and I are going to have a private conversation. Dismissed.”