“President Cherniakhovskii, there is another way. Europe is prepared to take these people in, to absorb them, to help resettle them. Germany is a shattered wreck, a mere shadow of itself and one that will never threaten anybody again. Even so, President Herrick will take these people in, allow them to try and rebuild what, if anything, can be rebuilt in Germany. All we ask is to be given the chance. Mr. President, if you do this terrible thing how are you different from the Fascists? How will history look back on you?”
Wijnand braced himself for the explosion. It didn't come. Instead, Cherniakhovskii spoke quietly.
“We did not go to other countries and massacre their civilians Doctor. We did not launch a Europe-wide witch-hunt aimed at exterminating entire races of people. We kill our enemies; those invade our country and who fight against us. We do not kill people because we think they have the wrong shape to their nose or the wrong color in their eyes.
“Do you know what has been happening in the occupied territory since it was occupied by the fascists? Of the slave labor camps and the extermination of anybody the Germans regard as inferior? Did you know that Russian men have been massacred so that Germans can take their women? That Russian sons are castrated at birth or slaughtered but daughters spared to become brood-mares for Germans? What, exactly, is the ICRC position on forced pregnancy, Doctor Wijnand? Perhaps before pleading the cause of such people, you should read a little on who they are. Perhaps you may want such people as your neighbors, we do not.”
He deposited a thick file onto the desk in front of Wijnand. The Doctor started reading it, then started to go white. By the time he was a few pages in, he was sweating and his stomach heaving. Cherniakhovskii was watching impassively. When he judged the time was right, he simply said “Door on the left”
Wijnand made a run for the Presidential private bathroom and just made it to the toilet before he lost control of his stomach contents. President Cherniakhovskii listened to the sounds and thought carefully. The German question had been tormenting him and his advisors. How could they slaughter people without becoming what they detested, but how could they not slaughter such people? Surely they were beyond redemption, their sins were so great there could be no way they would find their way back into grace.
Suddenly a great light dawned on him, an inspiration he attributed to his stern and judgmental God. This could be turned to Russian advantage, to Russia's very great advantage. It could even save the lives of his poor Frontniki. Some of them, anyway. He made a quick telephone call to his chief assistant. A small but important matter to be arranged quickly.
Doctor Wijnand was back now. He'd washed his face and recovered his composure. Knowing about such things, reading about them was one thing, seeing pictures was another. Still he had to keep trying, whatever these people were, whatever they had done, he had to try and save lives whenever he could. “My apologies Mr. President, I have tried to clean up the mess. But you cannot blame a whole people for the crimes of their leaders. Please, at least let us take in the women and children.”
“There is something to what you say Doctor, perhaps you may be right.” Cherniakhovskii spoke thoughtfully “Perhaps there is room for redemption in the Germans. Perhaps they should be given the chance to show there is some hope for their humanity. Listen well Doctor. Our offensive on the Don Front is proceeding according to plan. Soon we will be reaching the Don River itself. There, we face the main line of German resistance. We believe that the Germans will use chemical weapons against our troops when they start the assault crossing of the Don. If they do so, we will strike back with chemical weapons of our own, and our biologicals.
“We will ask our American allies to drop some of their nuclear weapons as well. Military casualties on both sides will be dreadful but the sufferings of the civilians will be terrible beyond description. We will liberate our territory but what we retake will be a burned and poisoned wasteland. Better a burned and poisoned wasteland than our land occupied by fascists. Better yet for neither to happen.
“We will allow the Germans to judge themselves. We will let them pass verdict upon themselves. The fate of the Germans in Kalmykia, in the Kuban and in Georgia will be decided by their own actions. If they use chemical weapons or any other weapons of mass destruction against our troops then we will see there is no hope for them and we will exterminate them, root and branch. But, if they refrain from doing so, if they fail to use such weapons against us then we will know that there is hope of redemption for at least some of them. The men we will hold for trial as war criminals but their women and children we will release to you. For deportation of course.”
President Cherniakhovskii leaned back in his seat. Holding the German women and children hostage against the German use of chemical weapons was the best way out of an awkward situation. The attack had been planned so that the left hook over the Volga would break through into the German rear and cause a situation where enemy units could be overrun before chemical weapons could be used.
But, breakthroughs were chimeras; often sought, rarely achieved. This gambit might help prevent the chemical holocaust he and his commanders feared. If it didn't, killing the hostages would divert and absorb the explosion of rage and hatred that would follow the devastation. It was now down to Dr Wijnand and his ICRC. If he could get word that the German women and children were being held hostage against the use of chemical weapons, if he could persuade Model to refrain from using such weapons then that would be good. Even if he could not, it was one more bit of maskirovka, one more item of deception to persuade the Germans that an assault crossing of the Don was coming.
After Doctor Wijnand left, Cherniakhovskii took off his uniform before going into his private bathroom. There were no mirrors in his office but there were in his bathroom and he would not stand in front of a mirror wearing his uniform. In uniform he was Cherniakhovskii the president, without it he was Chemiakhovskii the man. And Cherniakhovskii the man hated Cherniakhovskii the president to the point where he couldn't stand to look at him.
National Security Council Building, Washington D. C.
The entrances to government buildings, Sir Eric Hoahao reflected, represented the character and mind-set of their occupants. The Vice-regal palace in New Delhi was an economist's dream, lean, aseptic and cost-effective yet lacking humanity. Supreme Command Headquarters in Bangkok had an opulent and hedonistic face masking a modern and efficient interior. The Elyseé Palace was rich in pomposity and arrogance but short on signs of real power. He'd never been in the new German government building but he assumed whatever was there glowed in the dark.
Even allowing for that, the NSC building was unusual. The centerpiece of the reception lobby was a 15 foot tall statue of Death, complete with cowl and scythe, and mounted on a skeletal horse. It was modeled and positioned so as visitors entered through the glass doors, the lighting made the eyes of the statue appear to glow and be fastened on them. Visitors inevitably felt a chill when entering the reception area, partly from the statue, partly from the fact the area was kept cool enough to induce that effect. It helped to emphasize the point. This building was the Headquarters of the National Security Council; it was where the Targeteers planned their nuclear wars.
Sir Eric and the Ambassador had arrived by limousine from their respective Embassies. They'd been met by representatives and conducted through security and into the offices. Now, they were being taken up to the top floor, where they would meet with the National Security Advisor. The Ambassador hadn't said much on the trip over and was still keeping her own counsel. That did not bode well for somebody.