Murmured agreement swept around the table. Although the Defense Council had made its decisions without consulting the full Politburo, all present had seen the necessity of matching the Americans blow for blow. Any other course would only invite continued imperialist aggression.
The General Secretary held up a hand for quiet and shook his head sadly. “Comrades, it is with deep regret that I must tell you that we were misinformed, or perhaps I should say ‘misled,’ by one of our most trusted colleagues.”
He turned to face the defense minister. “Have I misstated the facts in any way, Andrei Ivanovich?”
A shocked silence spread throughout the room. Only the foreign minister was unsurprised. He’d been briefed by the General Secretary more than an hour before.
The defense minister, seeming strangely smaller despite his height, unwrinkled uniform, and multiple rows of medals, sighed and sat upright. “No, Comrade General Secretary.”
The defense minister pulled a handwritten document lying before him on the table closer and began reading in a flat, emotionless voice. “Comrades, on January eleventh of this year, on my own authority, I ordered the submarine Konstantin Dribinov to attack a group of American warships. I made this decision unilaterally, without consulting any other member of this body.”
He raised his eyes briefly and the General Secretary could read the hate directed toward the end of the table — toward the director of the KGB. The General Secretary could understand that. When he’d confronted the KGB chieftain with his suspicions, the man had buckled and sold his fellow conspirator down the river without a qualm, interested only in preserving his own position — however temporarily.
“Go on, Comrade Minister. Continue your confession,” the General Secretary prodded, anxious lest the delay raise further, unanswerable questions in the minds of other Politburo members.
The defense minister dropped his eyes to the paper before him. “I made this unilateral decision in response to an urgent request from our allies in Pyongyang. They needed our assistance to help repel an American amphibious attack apparently aimed at their western coast. They had no way of stopping this attack themselves — ”
The foreign minister interrupted, no longer able to contain his anger or his contempt. “An attack that later proved to be nothing more than a ploy!”
“Yes, that is true.” The defense minister’s voice shrank to a hollow whisper. He was silent for a second and then looked up from his notes. He’d been reading them verbatim, but as he continued, he spoke from memory. The General Secretary watched closely, ready to break in should the man stray from the agreed-upon version of the facts. “The momentum of the North Korean attack was slowing, and our materiel assistance no longer seemed enough to ensure victory. I believed that a limited, covert intervention by Soviet forces could restore the situation.”
The foreign minister snorted. “Your so-called ‘covert’ assistance is now spread all over the Western media, comrade.” He raised an eyebrow. “Why, I believe I saw your Captain Markov giving an interview to one of the American television networks.” There were uncomfortable chuckles from the others.
The defense minister flushed red at the gibe. “His orders were explicit. He was not to reveal his identity.”
“Then he failed in his orders. And you have brought us to the brink of an unnecessary and unwinnable war with the West.” The foreign minister spoke flatly, stating facts.
“That is also true, comrade.” The defense minister lowered his head to hide his anger at this public humiliation and then slowly, deliberately read the last paragraph of his prepared statement. “Because of my unilateral actions, Soviet citizens have lost their lives, and our country has been placed in a dangerous confrontation with the imperialist powers. Therefore, I hereby resign my position as minister of defense, my membership on the Central Committee, and my active membership in our beloved Party. Further, I request that I be allowed to retire immediately.”
The General Secretary looked slowly around the table, moving his eyes from man to man, seeking their decision. One by one, each shook his head. The defense minister’s error was too great. Lives had been lost, Soviet prestige reduced, and the chain of command usurped. He would not be allowed to fade away comfortably. A public trial would only further erode the authority of the State, but the Minister’s demise for “reasons of ill health” would soon follow.
Satisfied that he had his answer, the General Secretary cleared his throat and said harshly, “Very well, comrade, you have your answer. You may go. We have work to do.”
The defense minister inclined his head, rose stiffly without speaking, and left the room.
The General Secretary watched him go and then turned to face his colleagues. “Now, comrades, we face the difficult task of extricating ourselves from this mess without igniting a global conflict. Some of the actions we must take are obvious, others less so.”
He crooked a finger at the director of the KGB. “What is the latest news from the war zone, Comrade Director? How are our gallant slant-eyed allies faring?” He let the sarcasm drip from every word to show the Politburo just how he felt about the North Koreans.
“Disastrously, Comrade General Secretary.” The director shook his head. “The imperialist counteroffensive has been astoundingly successful. Our most recent satellite photos show their columns nearing the sea. The Americans and their South Korean puppets are within a day or two of completely surrounding most of the North’s remaining combat formations.”
“Can they be stopped?”
“No.” The KGB director’s words were sure and certain. “The armies of the North are increasingly incapable of undertaking any coordinated offensive or defensive action south of the former demilitarized zone. Their tanks have no fuel, their artillery has no ammunition, and their men have no food. They have been beaten.”
The General Secretary saw anger and dismay flit across the faces around the table. Previous Ministry of Defense briefings on the battlefield situation had painted a much more favorable picture. Naturally.
During the silence that followed the KGB chieftain’s gloomy appraisal, he saw one of the foreign minister’s aides slip into the room with some kind of telex. More good news, no doubt. No matter, it was time to show his colleagues how recent events could still be turned to their advantage. He shifted his eyes and broke the silence. “I think it is clear, comrades, that we must persuade Kim Jong-Il to save what he can of his forces in the South. The survivors can regroup behind their fortifications along the Demilitarized Zone. They will of course need to be rearmed and reequipped. And we shall supply those needs.”
He saw the puzzlement on their faces and smiled. “Think, comrades. Every piece of our equipment the younger Kim accepts puts him further in our debt and in our power. With the Americans and their puppets pounding at his gates, he will have no choice but to accede to our every demand. We shall be the de facto rulers of North Korea. And once that is accomplished, an armistice can easily be arranged. We may not have conquered South Korea, but certainly half a loaf is better than none.” He smiled at his own plan.
“Forgive me, Comrade General Secretary, but that may not be as easy to achieve as you imagine.” The foreign minister held out a telex. “I’ve just received this communique from Beijing. It seems that the People’s Republic of China has just announced that it will support an immediate cease-fire on the Korean peninsula.”
He laid the first telex aside and picked up another. “And this is a message specifically directed to us. In it, the Chinese announce their intention to oppose continued support or arms shipments from any country not now a belligerent. They go on to say that such interference will be met with any and all appropriate means, up to and including the use of military force.” The foreign minister folded the telex and sent it down the table toward the General Secretary.