AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do not own Godzilla. Some of the characters in this story are actual historical figures.
THE KREMLIN
MOSCOW, USSR
JANUARY, 1963
He'd been planning this for two years. Two years of recruiting, of bribing, of making promises, of creating a base of support to catapult him into the one job he coveted more than any other.
Head of the KGB.
The only thing Yuri Andropov needed was the right opportunity to set his plan into motion. That opportunity presented itself when the damn Americans forced them to remove their nuclear missiles from Cuba.
Andropov stared through his spectacles at the cherubic form of Nikita Khrushchev, ensconced behind his highly polished wooden desk, index finger on his cheek, middle finger under his chin, listening intently to Andropov's presentation.
" . . . our biologists have also documented incidents during the 1959 attack on Osaka and the 1961 attack on Jiaxing where the creature halted its rampages and followed large flocks of birds away from those cities."
"But why would it follow birds?" asked the General Secretary. "To eat them?"
"Perhaps. Our biologists also have another theory. There have been a few paleontologists who suggest dinosaurs may, in some way, be descended from birds."
"Birds turning into reptiles? It sounds like the sort of insanity the capitalists would spew."
"I initially thought that as well, Comrade General Secretary. But the evidence from these past attacks indicates there is something to this theory."
Khrushchev grunted and slid his chair closer to his desk. "And these scientists you talked to. This device of theirs can actually lead the creature wherever they desire."
"They assured me it will work." And if it doesn't, they'll all earn one-way trips to the gulags.
Khrushchev lowered his eyes, studying his desk in thought. Andropov just stared at him, maintaining his usual stony expression. The seemingly emotionless mask hid a bubbling cauldron of hope and anxiety. In a society that prided itself on the conventional, this was certainly a most unconventional plan. So many things could go wrong. But if it worked . . .
"The Americans will not be able to trace it back to us?" asked Khrushchev.
"Nyet." Andropov shook his head. "The creature is akin to a force of nature. No one has any idea where it will appear and how much destruction it will cause. And from what we've seen of the Japanese and Chinese and Korean responses to it, no conventional weapon can harm it."
"And what of nuclear weapons, Comrade Party Secretariat?"
"The Americans will never detonate one on their own soil. Look at all the controversy caused by the fallout from their tests in the Nevada desert. President Kennedy will not have the courage to drop an atomic bomb near Los Angeles or San Francisco."
"If he learns we are actually responsible for this, he could have one of those bombs dropped on Moscow." Khrushchev flexed his jaw back and forth.
"As with any plan, Comrade General Secretary, there are risks. But let us also look at the risks of letting the United States stay on its present course. It is starting to make inroads in Southeast Asia to halt the spread of Marxist-Socialism. They are putting much effort into being the first on the Moon. One can only imagine how we will be affected if they establish permanent bases there and exploit the Moon's resources. And now that we can no longer threaten them from Cuba . . ."
Khrushchev's face twisted in annoyance. He didn't like the Cuban situation to be brought up around him. Andropov doubted the man would ever get over the embarrassment of having to remove their ballistic missiles from the island and scurry home like beaten dogs.
In fact, Andropov banked on Khrushchev's embarrassment to get the leader of the USSR to approve his plan.
"Do we even know where the creature is?"
"Da, Comrade General Secretary." If he hadn't known that critical piece of information, Andropov wouldn't have bothered presenting this plan. "One of our Juliett-class submarines picked up the creature on sonar in the Micronesia chain two weeks ago. By all indications, it's still there."
Khrushchev sat in silence, examining his folded hands. Andropov didn't move as he observed him. Any other man would probably be fidgeting from impatience, waiting for Khrushchev to say either da or nyet. But Andropov had been patient for two years as he put this plan together. He could wait another few seconds, or even minutes, for Khrushchev to make up his mind.
"Very well, Comrade Party Secretariat. You will have whatever resources you need at your disposal on my personal authority."
"Thank you, Comrade General Secretary." Andropov kept his voice flat, though his insides exploded in elation.
"Carry out your Operation: Death Knell immediately. If we are fortunate, Comrade, by the end of the year we will have truly buried the Americans."
Andropov left Khrushchev's office, his chest puffed out. He strutted down the corridor, brown-uniformed sentries snapping at attention as he passed. He glanced at the soldiers, allowing himself a smile. Andropov thought of all the generals and admirals who boasted about their tanks and bombers and ships, and how they would crush the capitalist armies.
Fools, all of them. In the end, the country wouldn't need its military to crush the Americans and achieve world socialism. All it would need was just one large animal.
A large animal named Godzilla.
TO BE CONTINUED
