The Capitol bore no signs of the gunfight that had ensued in front of it just three hours ago, which, for the man climbing the steps to the entrance of the building, never happened. He was the private secretary to the Governor of Chechnya, who wouldn't wake up and begin his work until nine in the morning. His job was to give the governor the important stuff while he dealt with the lesser worries.
He found a relatively light workload waiting for him on his desk. He sifted through them quickly, placing two documents on the tray meant for the governor. The secretary then found out that he was thirsty, and he went to the coffee machine. He turned on the television while waiting for his brew.
The first news item he caught was a minor drug bust in the western end of Groznyy. Members of the Committee for State Security had made the bust and arrested three drug dealers, two locals and a foreigner. A female commissar from the navy, a zampolit, explained to the reporters how they had managed to accumulate enough photographic evidence to convict the men, and how they could be facing either seventy years or death.
The second item was a live feed. The man speaking was the commander-in-chief of the Russian forces on Chechnya, General Yaroslav Mikhailovich Yevin. What followed would shake the secretary until his dying day. He forgot all about his coffee and darted for the telephone.
Three miles away, Governor Dazdrapertrak Dazdrapertrakovich Tarenin picked up the phone after the third ring. "Yes?"
"Uh, Comrade Governor, this is, uh, Tarkovsky, your private secretary."
"Ah, Alexei." The kid was the son of a member of the local Politburo, and had a real future ahead of him, unlike others like him. He had real respect for the governor, and knew not to interrupt Tarenin unless it was a matter of national security. "What is it?"
"Turn on your television, Comrade Governor. The answer is there."
It felt strange, taking orders from your secretary, but nevertheless Tarenin did exactly what he was told. The fear in Alexei's voice was genuine enough to attract the governor's attention.
General Yaroslav Yevin has just announced the arrest of fifteen men responsible for the shootout in front of the Capitol, something Tarkovsky hadn't mentioned to his boss. The incident occurred during a demonstration by Bedoan Island supporters advocating for recognition. Apparently, they did not know the suspects because they ran away from them, yet the suspects claim they were from the Red Army of Bedoan.
The next scene was of the suspects' weapons laid out on a table. Twelve M16s, three G36s, three M203 grenade launchers and old German "potato masher" grenades were visible, along with their magazines. All these were not readily available to the civilian populace, which meant that they were getting these through back channels, probably arms dealers or some entrepreneur in the army.
The militants, as they were called, had three to seven of their number dead, while the Russians only had one injured, and he was well on the way to recovery in the Vasily Arbyk Memorial Hospital. A lieutenant answered all of the reporters' questions, most of them with, "We will inform you all as soon as we receive the information." Leave it to the Army to say no comment artfully, thought the governor.
Tarenin then realized that his wife was awake. She watched the news with fear in her eyes. "Dazdrapertrak, what's happening?"
"It means Russian-Bedoan relations could be down the drain." Unless their President renounces this Red Army of theirs. "I may have to go to work earlier than I planned."
"I know nothing about politics, so I'll leave all of this to you. Do you absolutely have to do this, Traktora?"
Tarenin loved the way his wife spoke his nickname. He felt very strong and manly every time she said it in her own peculiar way. "Don't worry, Agripina, I've handled way worse."
The drive to the Capitol was quiet, if you can call being hounded by reporters quiet. His driver, a soldier of the Third Shock Army, managed to keep the press away from his superior by sheer brute force.
His secretary Alexei Tarkovsky greeted him when he got out. "I've managed to divert all calls to the public relations people, Comrade Governor," he said. "They may be able to hold out until noon. Do you have any orders?"
"What orders, Alexei? Have I become a general during my brief absence?"
"Oh, nothing of the sort, Comrade Governor. What I am asking you about is, do you want something?"
"Now that you ask me, yes, do try to bring Comrade Yevin here if possible."
"As you say, Comrade Governor." Tarkovsky rushed to his private telephone and called Army Headquarters.
Within minutes, General Yaroslav Yevin was inside the Chechen Capitol, standing right in front of the governor. "You asked for me, Governor Tarenin?"
"Yes, Yaroslav. Do kindly sit down. Oh, by the way, you may want to hang your cap by that peg over there."
After the general was comfortably seated, Tarenin spoke. "Why did you announce the existence of this so-called Red Army of Bedoan on national television?"
"Well, it was the only logical choice, wasn't it?"
"Yes, it may be the only choice, but think about all of those people out there! All they had wanted for years is peace, and now you've destroyed their comfortable little worlds! Do you know how hard it is to lead a disheartened land? Let's see, no, because the Red Army has become a bunch of pampered boys, much like the tsarist princes of old!"
"Hey, you don't see me say anything wrong about how you lead Chechnya!" Yevin retorted. "I leave that to President Adzhitekova and the Politburo. But, remember this, Dazdrapertrak, I may be born in Chechnya, I may not like our new political structure, but you never insult my men!"
"You say that just because they kiss your ass more times than I care to count! But do you know what they say when your back is turned?"
"I don't care about things like that! If they can fight well, then that's all I want from them!"
"Aha! Leading our young men to certain death in the valleys of the insurrectionists while you sip vodka in the comfort of your own dacha!"
"How about you? Jerking off while your government bickers about your policies and leaving Chechnya to stagnate!"
"Knock it off, comrades!" shouted Tarkovsky, moving between the two. "All of this quarreling is doing nothing! For once, comrades, forget your old differences and work together!"
Tarenin was still seething, but he knew Tarkovsky was right. "Very well, Alexei. A cool head prevails over a hot one. Yaroslav, what do you suggest we do?"
"My men are already interrogating some of the prisoners," the general replied between his teeth. "You can set up an investigative committee."
"You heard the man, Alexei. Call for an emergency meeting in Parliament." The general and the governor glared at each other as Yevin turned to leave.
"Bring me some coffee, Alexei. Now!" The day had gone badly for Tarenin. He had no idea that that was also the opinion of the rest of the country.