“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.
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 aides, 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.”