Minister Semenov added, “At this rate, Mr. President, the Allies will be able to largely fly anywhere in Russia with impunity within a couple of months.”
Clearing his throat, General Egorkin interjected, “When the Allies have full air supremacy, they’ll quickly isolate and destroy our remaining combat formations, making it virtually impossible for me to amass any forces or launch any major counterattacks.”
Admiral Petrukhin added, “Aside from our nuclear-capable submarines, we are essentially finished as a service. Our last major attack was at Bear Island in the Barents Sea. Those ships have since been sunk by the Allies; I have nothing left.” He looked down in shame, then continued, “Despite our losses, I would argue that the operation was a major success in that we successfully sank three Allied aircraft carriers, along with a dozen other warships.”
“And yet, the Allies still managed to land multiple divisions’ worth of soldiers in Severodvinsk, establishing a large beachhead and enemy base in Archangelsk. Even now, those forces they landed are threatening Moscow,” countered Petrov.
“Yes, Mr. President. But the sinking of those three carriers severely limited the number of aircraft that can support those ground forces. The loss of those Allied destroyers also limited the Allies’ ability to launch cruise missiles at us,” explained the admiral.
Petrov shook his head in frustration as he sat there listening to the raw truth his generals were telling him. His stomach churned a bit, and he felt a bit of bile build up in the back of his throat. Looking at his generals, he asked, “What are your suggestions? What can be done to turn the war around, or is there nothing more we can do?”
Minister Semenov hesitantly answered, “Unless you want the war to go nuclear, Mr. President, there isn’t much we can do to turn things around at this point. We could make heavy use of tactical nuclear weapons and probably wipe out the majority of the Allied combat forces in or near our borders, but the Americans would surely respond in kind. We saw what they did to North Korea and China. President Gates didn’t hesitate for a second in hitting China with a nuclear bomb once they confirmed the Chinese had provided the North Koreans with the ICBMs that hit their West Coast.”
“We know how Gates would respond, but he’s dead,” said Petrov. “How would his successor, President Foss, respond? Does he have that same resolve? Would he really have the guts to use nuclear weapons? Especially if it were just soldiers being killed and not American cities being destroyed?” He searched their faces for an answer.
“Mr. President, I implore you not to consider using nuclear weapons,” Semenov urged. “It will only lead to the complete destruction of our country. The Americans have invested too much into this war to make peace simply because we dropped some nuclear bombs on their military. They will level our remaining military bases and devastate our cities. We still have the support of our Indian allies and the Chinese. If we have to, Mr. President, we can move the government beyond the Urals and continue to wage an insurgency against the Allies.”
Petrov shook his head at that suggestion. He wouldn’t abandon Moscow, not while they still had the strength to fight. The Nazis had thought they could lay siege to Moscow, but they had lost that battle. “No. We won’t relocate the government,” he asserted firmly. “If we do that, we send a signal to the people and the military that we are abandoning them. They will lose heart in our cause and no longer fight. We’ll stay here and make our stand. I’ll speak with Minister Kozlov to press the Americans for a ceasefire. We will try to negotiate an end to the war, with acceptable terms that will allow everyone to save as much face as possible.”
Some of the military leaders in the room might not have liked Petrov’s decision, but they would never have contradicted him out loud. They had their marching orders. With the essential military strategy having been decided, the military leaders left to make sure the military could defend the capital. If that meant conscripting more people, handing them a rifle and a couple magazines of ammunition and dropping them off to guard a trench, then so be it. They would remind the Americans how deadly a street fight would be if they persisted in attacking Moscow.
Oleg Zolotov poured himself another glass of Russo-Baltique vodka, a truly remarkable drink. As he filled the tumblers, he caught a short glance of his prized possessions playing with some toys in the living room, near the fireplace. His granddaughter, Eva, had just turned three, and his grandson, Ivan, was being cradled in his wife Katja’s arms with his daughter looking on.
“I am truly blessed to have such a beautiful family,” he thought.
He placed the tumbler on the end table between the two oversized chairs, where he could still look at the fireplace and watch the children and his wife and daughter from his private study. His son-in-law, Dmitry Chayko, took the tumbler, examining the liquid within before taking a sip. “This must be the finest vodka I’ve ever tasted, Oleg,” he commented.
Oleg nodded, and he also took a sip of the extremely expensive liquid, relishing its rich taste before swallowing it. Seeing the apprehensive look on his son-in-law’s face, he leaned to the right on his chair’s leather arm, bringing his face closer to him. “What’s going on, Dmitry? You seem preoccupied with something.”
Shaking his head slightly, Dmitry looked like he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue. Sensing his hesitation, Oleg got up and walked over to the door of his study. He muttered something to his wife and then closed the study off. Before he returned to his chair, he walked around to his desk and pulled a small device from one of the drawers. With the click of a button, the shades on the windows closed and a slight electronic hum buzzed lightly.
Four years earlier, Oleg Zolotov had been promoted to major general and taken over as head of the FSO. This meant he was the man directly responsible for President Petrov’s security apparatus, and he reported directly to Lieutenant General Grigory Sobolev. He was privy to a lot of closely guarded secrets within Petrov’s office. Oleg and Grigory had been old KGB buddies from the Cold War days and had personal relationships with President Petrov that ran deep. It had been Grigory and Oleg who’d advised Petrov to liquidate Ivan Vasilek, his predecessor, for his colossal miscalculation of the American’s resolve to wage total war against the Eastern Alliance. His exposure as the mastermind behind the British prime minister’s coup was the final straw.
As the atmosphere in the room changed, Dmitry looked at his father-in-law quizzically but dared not speak a word until Oleg explained himself.
“Don’t be alarmed, Dmitry. When I took my new position as the head of the FSO in 2014, I had my home office turned into a secured quiet room, immune to electronic eavesdropping and surveillance. Anything we talk about in here right now won’t leave this room. It will stay between the two of us. So, Dmitry, what is troubling you so much that you can’t enjoy a rare day off with your family?” he prompted.
At the outset of the war, Dmitry Chayko had been promoted to the rank of colonel and given command of the Kremlin Regiment, which was responsible for protecting the Kremlin and other critical government buildings, in addition to the honor guard and ceremonial duties they traditionally performed during peacetime. When the war had started, the regiment had transformed itself quickly into a combat arms unit that would rival any other regiment in the army. When Dmitry’s father, Lieutenant General Chayko, had defeated the Allied forces in Ukraine at the outset of the war, President Petrov had placed Dmitry in charge of the Kremlin Regiment, with the explicit orders to turn it into his own personal protective army as a check against the FSO and FSB, if it ever came to that.