“Do you understand your mission, Sergey?” the Minister of Defense barked.
“Yes, Mr. Minister. It is clear to me.”
Marshal Budarenko lit another cigarette and, flabbergasting his new team with a most uncharacteristic act, pushed the pack of cigarettes to the end of the table towards his men.
“If any of you wants to smoke a good American cigarette, be my guest”, he offered.
This gesture was entirely out of character for Marshal Budarenko, who was, after all, a high-ranking bully who treated his men as formally and harshly as was possible. Perhaps he was indeed wooing them?
Of course, not one of the men dared to even think of smoking the marshal’s prized cigarettes.
Budarenko reached out and collected the pack quickly enough, placing it close to him where it had been. “Now we come to the real matter”, he revealed.
“Our beloved Soviet Union is in existential danger. You are the few, the best men, selected for this historic mission of saving our motherland from harm. Even if we suppress the stubborn rebellion in the GDR, not only will we not have eliminated rebellions in other countries, but this may even breathe new life into these reactionary insurgencies. If this happens, the small pockets of discontent we are already witnessing here at home will grow, intensify, spread, and eventually threaten the very existence of the Soviet Union. Every one of you knows that our country is composed of dozens of different nationalities, many with different cultures, faiths and languages, some even dreaming of independence.
“If the rebels in Yugoslavia, Romania and the GDR manage to mobilize the masses and depose the communist regimes in their states, there will be a massive snowball effect that will erupt into our own country. I do not want to think what could happen if the Ukrainian people suddenly decided to break away from us. The Ukrainians sit on the Black Sea, home to our Black Sea Fleet, armed with great quantities of nuclear weapons to deter our enemies. Do you understand? You are being entrusted with the great historic privilege of saving our motherland.”
The six men exchanged glances, trying to assess each other’s reaction to the Minister’s words.
“No one in the Kremlin understands this as fully as I do. They do not know what is required to defend the motherland!”
The Minister spoke with great passion, raising his voice as if addressing a massive audience.
“Our operation in the GDR will benefit us there, but it will not remove the threat to our union, and as I said, it might even escalate the situation. It all begins and ends with the belligerent western European states of NATO. They incite all the unrest. They finance the troublemakers and direct them from there. Eventually, the cure for this disease must be administered there. Only by striking these countries good and hard will we eliminate the danger. And when we fight against an outside enemy, all Soviet citizens stand united behind the Red Army.
“And now to the mission before you.”
The Marshal’s ashtray was filling up with cigarette butts, and the room became smokier as he spoke.
“Our forces will deploy to the west of the Soviet Union within days, and will be positioned within striking distance of Western Europe. However, in order to actually strike and invade, we must first create a reason, a cause to justify our actions. If we hit them first, we are bullies, but if we let them hit us first, we will be acting in self-defense. We need to create an incident serious enough to warrant such an operation, and you will be the ones to create it. As I said before, out of all the sons of the Soviet Union, you were selected for this mission. You will submit a plan to generate an event that will make our invasion of the West seem a legitimate and justified retaliatory action.
“Each of you was vetted not just for skill and creativity but also for background. We checked your family histories back to your great- grandparents. Your loyalty, to the country and to the party, and that of your families and friends, have been proven beyond a doubt. You will provide me with the plan I need, even if it entails a substantial sacrifice of Soviet citizens.”
The Minister of Defense completed his speech and lit yet another cigarette. Leaning back in his seat, he placed his enormous palms on his desk.
“Is everything clear?”
“Mr. Minister of Defense”, someone from the team ventured. Everyone turned to identify the man with the courage to address the Marshal without first asking for permission. The Minister addressed the team member by name and rank.
“Yes, Colonel Yevgeni, speak up.”
Colonel Yevgeni rose to his feet. On the short side, very thin and hunched, and wearing thick eyeglasses, he did not look like a military man. His colleagues and the Marshal were anxious to hear what he had to say.
“Comrade Marshal, Minister of Defense, you may not have explicitly stated the nature of the event to be planned, but as a mathematician and physicist, I deal with formulas and unknowns. All the required components you mentioned make sense in only one context, and, in combination, lead to one conclusion that is quite clear. Only an offensive by hostile powers can pave the way for us to embark on an extensive retaliatory action in Western Europe. We must cause a sufficiently cataclysmic event — for example, a nuclear incident within Soviet territory — that can be blamed on American aggression. Do I understand your intention correctly, Mr. Minister?”
Absolute silence descended on the room. The Colonel’s five colleagues were nervous, each squirming uncomfortably in fear of the Marshal’s reaction. It was obvious that what the Colonel had suggested bordered on the unthinkable, if not the insane. But everything depended on the response this idea would elicit from the Minister of Defense. They could either admire Colonel Yevgeni for his courage, or pity him for his stupidity. Everything depended on the man at the head of the table.
To their amazement, the Minister of Defense nodded approvingly at the Colonel.
“Now you understand why we chose you for this mission”, the Minister acknowledged. “You could not have expressed it better or more clearly. You grasped what I want to achieve and were able to fathom what I meant. However, I expect you to create a situation that is not the real thing but only looks like the real thing, simulating the effects of such a catastrophe but without all the destructive consequences. If you can do this, we will save human lives. However, I am afraid that this may be impossible. Even my advisers are skeptical, claiming that in the real world, one can either be pregnant or not pregnant — one cannot be half pregnant.”
The Minister got up just as the mysterious civilian in the light blue suit suddenly re-entered the room.
“This is Gregory”, the minister explained. “From now on, he is your father and mother, your wife and your mistress. He has direct access to me twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I want to hear ideas by tomorrow. Good luck.”
The Minister walked to the door and Gregory followed him, hurrying to match his pace. The six teammates were all alone now, trying to come to terms with the complex and sensitive situation they now found themselves in. The Marshal had not introduced them to each other, and none of them felt comfortable enough to start a conversation yet. The six were partners in destiny. They continued to disregard each other’s presence, but not for long.
Marshal Budarenko’s convoy of official black cars entered the Kremlin gates. Svetlana greeted her uncle formally and ushered him into the General Secretary’s office. His bodyguards remained in the reception area, which was Svetlana’s domain.