AN: Credits to Vasilisa, perfect_shade and Readhead for feedback and revisions. Several sections were entirely drafted by Vasilisa.
Due to the original chapter's word count ballooning to over 18K from the revisions (not including the references' word count at the bottom), I decided to split this chapter in half. The second half will be posted later after some more revisions.
Also, I should have posted this country name guide for the context of the Middle Eastern countries much earlier:
Turkmen Empire = Turkey
Magna Rumeli = Greece
Qajar Empire = Iran
Mesopotamia = Iraq
Aegyptus = Egypt
Tripolitania = Libya
1953 July 5th, somewhere in the South China Sea
"Penny for your thoughts, Coach?" Bettina asked, joining Greene by the railing.
"Just going through the newspapers I collected in Guam," he gestured to the pile. "Staying up to date with current events and all that rot."
"Hard to believe everything's unraveling so fast," Bettina sighed and gazed out over the waves. "Seems like the whole world is in crisis, but here we are enjoying a nice pleasant sea-voyage. Warm sun, cool breeze, birds chirping… So peaceful and serene. It feels like we exist in a different universe."
"I know what you mean," Greene smiled, and if that smile was a bit forced, Bettina didn't mention it. "It all seems a bit unreal, doesn't it? Look at this article, for instance: The entirety of South America is going mad. People in Brasilia have taken to writing '7-1' on old footballs, then hanging them all over the place. Off tree branches, power lines, balconies… You name it, and it's sporting a football. Some are even mailing the footballs to Grenadian politicians, business leaders, sports stars, celebrities, and so on. The Grenadians responded by doing the same thing, except their footballs have pictures of bullets and artillery shells drawn all over them. Some villages near the border have gone as far as building home-made trebuchets to launch footballs over the border at each other."
"Watch out!"
Instantly, Greene and Bettina threw themselves to the ground, mage-reflexes kicking in. In the second it took for the stray lacrosse ball to swish past over their heads, their orbs were already cycled up and thrumming with power begging to be unleashed. Unhalted, the ball shot past and smashed through a window of the cockpit with a loud crunch. As one, the two mages turned to glare at the perpetrator.
"Ah, whoops. Sorry," Jin apologized, rubbing his head bashfully.
His Coach and Assistant Coach floated up into the air. Around their ship and surrounding ocean, the aerial lacrosse team were flitting about like high-speed hummingbirds, practicing their passes and defensive plays in the bright sunshine.
"While I'm happy you're enjoying the sea air, do try to avoid damaging the ship any further," Bettina transmitted to Jin, along with a put-upon sigh. "The captain's already been on my case about this. Any more breakages are coming out of your paycheck!"
"Sorry, Assistant Coach –"
But whatever Jin was about to say was cut off with the sudden appearance of two scruffy-looking Chinese mages. Before anyone could react, the first had already raised a rifle to his shoulder and snapped off a shot, rolling with the recoil and plunging down into a stooping dive, vanishing through the large gash his enhanced bullet had torn in the the ship's hide and disappearing into the bowels of the vessel.
His partner split away to climb for attitude, bypassing the ship and flying towards the airborne but unarmed Formosans practicing above. For a moment, the players were too shocked by the onrushing danger to react, but already warmed up from their practice they rallied quickly. Abandoning lacrosse equipment, they hurriedly gathered into a defensive formation to resist the sudden solo onslaught. Unfortunately the shortcomings of sports orbs in both speed and strength in comparison with proper military-grade orbs quickly became apparent. They were completely outclassed.
'At least they're finally working together like a proper team', Greene thought with bitter pride as he attempted to disrupt the enemy's flight pattern. But it was no use: the Albionese man could only desperately dodge the strange mage's attacks while watching helplessly as he tore through the team like tinfoil, tearing one orb from a player's chest, then another. One by one the Formosans dropped into the sea like artillery shells. Finally Greene was the last one left in the air, but his lifetime of combat experience couldn't prevent the mage from ripping away his orb. Greene plummeted into the ocean.
Shortly afterward:
Chen Shusheng and Fire flew close to the waves to avoid radar and magic detectors, and made a series of random detours to throw off any possible pursuit before finally returning to their temporary base, a nearly-hidden cave nestled amongst the steep cliffs overlooking the South China Sea. Dumping their sacks onto the ground, they carefully sorted through their latest haul.
"Garbage," Shusheng muttered. He methodically tested each of the lacrosse orbs he'd seized, running a series of simple spells through each. But the results were less than satisfactory. "These things are useless for combat; a steel rod might be more effective! No wonder those mages we faced were so weak and pathetic! What about you?"
"A few rifles, a box or two of ammunition, a few boxes of canned food," Fire sighed. "Barely a pittance onboard. What a waste of time! We should hit another container ship."
"And are you satisfied with this kind of life? Scratching a living from rocks and stone, and looting the occasional civilian vessel?" interjected a stranger's voice. "Existing as no more than the lowest capitalist?"
The two mages instantly sprang apart, cycling up shield spells in an instant.
An elderly man flanked by two burly Chinese mages was standing in front of the cave entrance.
"Who are you?!" Fire demanded, who was about to point his rifle at them before Chen Shusheng reached over and pushed Fire's rifle down.
"I know you …" Shushing said slowly.
The man nodded gravely. "My name is Li Lisan. I was in prison, like you. Hunted down by the current regime in Nanjing, like you. Used as an expendable pawn, like you, by the plotters behind the coup to pave their path towards power, and ultimately towards the means to continue their persecution of the both of us."
Li sat down on a boulder and had his legs angled away from the two, waved off his mage escorts, then carefully extracted a roll of paper from his jacket. Unfurled, it proved to be 'wanted dead or alive' posters bearing drawings or photos that were unmistakable in their depictions of the three men. "We are not so different, you see."
"Oh, you're that person. The one that the previous and current governments are so terrified of," Shusheng frowned. "How can we trust you?"
"How do you think the communists were able to rapidly topple the Shun Dynasty?" the old man asked instead of answering.
"I don't really know," Shusheng shrugged, deciding to play along for now. "I wasn't the best student back in school."
"Then allow me to give you a little history lesson," said Li with the smile of geezers the world over given a chance to impart choice wisdom on the ungrateful youth. "The Shun imperial military commanders and government officials that defected to the communist movement were allowed to keep their positions and wealth intact. Their children were allowed to join the political structure and hold an equal share in its future. I was deeply skeptical of that plan, but later on I understood the logic behind incorporating them when the alternative is an extended civil war that could have ended the revolution before it could get started. Although most of those who once served the Shun have at last found their betrayal repaid in full by the thrashings of Kang's pathetic coup and the ongoing purges."
"I remember your old teachings called for anyone who was not truly faithful to the international communist revolution to be… dealt with," Shusheng warily pointed out. "Your tune sure has changed."
"I welcome those that see the light, even if they have done many wrongs." Li got up from the boulder and offered a hand to the two. "I don't expect you two or your friends to fully embrace the revolution that I seek to spread throughout the world, but I'd much prefer you as allies instead of enemies. There are many opportunities for all of you. No more having to worry about being recaptured and experimented on again. Become military commanders if you have the leadership potential. And when the dust settles, take up political involvement."
Li then peered into the cave. "Or we can maintain the status quo. You two and the others are free to remain in hiding while I'm forced to fight Kang from the shadows, and then at best we'll all die of old age while living in fear."
"You are surprisingly pragmatic," Shusheng narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Years spent in prison imparted a valuable lesson to me. It doesn't matter how hard someone pounds on a book and screams about how righteous they are, when the only audience is a concrete room and rats," Li nodded.
"What about the other mages in hiding?" Fire asked, speaking up for the first time.
"I have been unable to find them so far. I can't blame them for not wanting to be found by anyone, and my forces can't search too hard without drawing Kang's attention in the process." Li frowned, but then a smile crept across his face. "But I have been told by my agents that the augmented mage experimentation program has been restarted, and they are currently building a permanent containment facility into a mountain. Kang will not survive a second mage prison break. While the temporary facilities are under very heavy guard, they are not invulnerable."
"Where are the facilities for us to free them before their mountain fortress is completed? We need weapons now." Fire growled, which Li immediately held up a hand to signal a stop.
"Not yet, even if I found and recruited all of the escaped mage prisoners and fully committed my army, we would be ground down by Kang's massive military before the freed mage prisoners can be trained to fight properly instead of just relying on raw magic power. We first need to weaken Kang's position by turning his foreign allies against him and wear him down. Then we make our move while he is distracted by a conflict against an emotionally compromised Shu. And for Formosa, we just need to wait. Something will happen, and Kang will take the bait. He can't back down without losing face and risk pushing militant factions into our arms."
Elsewhere in the South China Sea:
With a terrifying groan, the ship twisted and finally disintegrated into a mass of debris before all of the lifeboats could be deployed. The passengers and crew still on board leaped off the side and hurriedly swam as far away as possible to avoid being sucked down into the depths by the sinking vessel.
'What the hell just happened?'
"Schisse! Now what do we do, Coach?" Bettina panted in dismay as they watched their ship disappear beneath the waves.
"Gao, Hiroshi, take half the boys and check the area for any other survivors, and gather them to the lifeboats," Greene ordered, treading water. "Shiro, Wu, take the other half and see if you can find any flotation devices and empty lifeboats that were knocked free. Bettina, come with me, we're going to look for flare-guns."
The Formosans spread out to search but were unable to find a lifeboat or flare. But luck was on their side. Less than an hour after the destruction of their ship, an Akitsushiman destroyer arrived and rescued them from the sea.
"You and your companions are jolly lucky," stated the captain in a clipped Oxbridge accent. "Those bandits only sought to rob you of your belongings, otherwise none of you would have survived."
"It's a miracle there were no deaths," Greene agreed. "We are most obliged to you for your assistance, Captain …"
"Yamamoto Yoshimasa, at your service."
"Coach Greene. You speak excellent Anglish, Captain Yoshimasa," Greene commented as they shook hands.
"Why thank you, old bean," he chirped. "I studied naval engineering at Cambridge University, don't you know."
"Seems like we share an alma mater, Captain. But in any case, you really saved our bacon back there," Greene replied.
"Think nothing of it, dear boy. Unfortunately your experience isn't rare in these parts. The South China Sea has been infested with pirates since time immemorial, but lately we all have to contend with rogue Chinese mages as well! They're like a flock of mangy vultures – aim for easy targets, sweep in, grab anything they deem of value, and flit away before we arrive. Everyone's redoubling their efforts to clamp down on them – us, the Formosans, the Albish, even the CSR – but the blighters are damned quick and damned sneaky!" he shook his head in irritation.
"Even the CSR?" Green blinked rapidly.
"The only thing that all of us could agree on dealing with," Yoshimasa sighed.
The two continued to chat, and it wasn't long before the destroyer cruised into the port of Taipei.
"Here's where I say goodbye, looks like the local boys have put together a bit of a grand reception for you lot," Yoshimasa waved farewell.
Greene and the rest of the survivors were ceremoniously escorted off the warship and into a convoy of open-topped cars. A large band played as they were driven through the streets of Taipei. Crowds of Formosans roared in joy around them and threw confetti, rice and tape in celebration.
Never thought I'd be the star of my own ticker-tape parade, Greene thought to himself, glancing at Bettina. She gave a shrug. The rest of the team members looked just as baffled. What on earth is going on?
1953 July 10th, Allied Kingdom, Edinburgh:
"Poor Greene," mused Flemons, gazing with pity at the newspaper. The front page article included a large photograph of the recipients of the inaugural Formosan National Medal of Valor. They stood in a line on an enormous stage, surrounded by cheering crowds. The lineup included one very embarrassed and bemused Albionese former officer.
"Looks like congratulations are in order," commented Charlie Parker. His eyes flicked over the text. "Seems both Formosan teams and their coaches received the award… for fighting off national foes: Chinese pirates and Albish sportsmen alike," the man giggled. "Perhaps I should suggest to the Permanent Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs that His Majesty's government issue formal congratulations to Mr Greene?"
"Vindictive sort aren't you? But Shu is not wasting any time on the propaganda front while he gains political power, that's for sure," Flemons responded.
"Ian Flemons, as I live and breathe!" declared a passing admiral whose name Flemons had forgotten. "What are you doing up here? Didn't you retire years ago?"
"I did retire, sir. But just when I thought I was out, they pulled me back in! We need your expertise, they said. Can't do without you, they said. Nobody else with your skills, they said. Say no and we'll downgrade your military pension, they said. Say yes and we'll increase your military pension, they said. And so on and so forth," he sighed as the men shook hands warmly. "So here I am. Instead of living out my retirement in my nice little beach house in Barbados, I'm stuck here looking at your lot's ugly mugs all day. 'Private consultant' is the formal title now."
"Poor bastard," the admiral chuckled.
"At least the pay's a lot better than it was while I was in His Majesty's service, sir. And things could always be worse." He glanced down at the picture of Greene's bewildered face again. "There but for the grace of God go I," he muttered, shaking his head.
A private secretary opened the door. "They're ready to see you now, Mr. Flemons," he announced softly.
Flemons grabbed his briefcase, nodded his farewells to his colleagues, and proceeded into the inner sanctum of the Diogenes Club.
"Sit down, my boy," Prime Minister William nodded to the sole empty chair.
Flemons hurriedly sat down, resisting the urge to salute the eminent group gathered around the fireplace. Nighttime in Edinburgh was chilly, even in the middle of summer.
"Alright, let's get all the bad news out at once," William sighed, lighting his pipe.
"Prime Minister, I'm sorry to report that MI5 has confirmed the news. Nasser has indeed been snatched away from our boys by parties unknown."
"Damn it all," William growled softly. "I want him back in custody as soon as possible, you hear!"
"Yes sir," said Flemons. "MI5, Scotland Yard, and the Ministry of Defence have advised that all measures are being taken to reacquire him ASAP. The Royal Air Force and Royal Navy are sparing no efforts to seal off all avenues of escape from Albion by air or sea."
"Good," Foreign Minister Shone stated. "It would be a bloody big international incident if Nasser went blabbing in public in front of the world press."
"No matter. The media can huff and puff as much as they want, but as long as our forces have Aegyptus secured, anything the man can do or say will be moot," observed former Prime Minister Churbull, taking a sip of whiskey.
"On that front, I'm afraid new uprisings have begun in Aswan, Alexandria and Sinai, according to the military intelligence chaps. Which brings the total number of known insurrectionist groups active in Aegyptus to eleven, along with the existing groups showing no signs of quieting down," Flemons stated. "The army and air force are under considerable pressure. I believe the Minister for Defence is likely to bring forward a proposal for increased troops and equipment at the next Cabinet meeting."
"Of course he will," William sighed.
"Bah, how useless!" blurted Lord Halifax angrily. "Throwing more Albionese boys into an endless meat grinder will solve nothing!"
"Quite right –" Shone began.
"Now more battleships, that's the ticket!" Halifax proclaimed. "If only we'd gotten off our duff years ago and built more, then we'd never've been in the mess we're in now! Just send a dozen battleships down the Suez Canal, and another dozen down the Nile, and any hint of resistance would be blasted into rubble within a week! Gangs of scruffy guerrillas are no match for 15-inch naval guns! The entire country would be groveling at our feet by now! They should be thankful that the development for bigger guns was needlessly stalled!"
"Oh for the love of Pete," Shone rolled his eyes. "Not this again …"
"Yes, yes, Halifax, we've heard this drum beat from you more than once," Churbull said patiently.
Flemons scoffed in his heart. Amateurs. The aristocrats' solution to every problem Albion faced these days was to throw battleships at it. And the worst part was their little crusade had been getting considerable attention in the Albish press of late.
"I believe our Frankish and Ispagnan allies need to be encouraged to help make up for any military shortfall in Aegyptus," William said, glancing over at Shone.
"I've tried," the Foreign Minister responded. "The Ispagnan forces are useless; we can only put them to work guarding unimportant desert zones where nothing happens."
"Surely they can't be that incompetent?" Churbull queried.
"When they were securing the towns of southern Sinai, the Ispagnan general somehow managed to lead the entirety of his tank brigade over the edge of the only crevasse in the entire region," Shone replied in a flat tone. "We estimate it will take several months for those tanks to be retrieved and repaired. Although many of them may end up being scuttled due to Aegyptian insurgents taking notice of the iron harvest."
"Ah."
"As for the Franks, their military brass is keen to play a greater role, but they're reaching the limits of their available resources. The bill to increase the budget for military expenditures isn't likely to go anywhere until a new President and ruling party are elected," Shone continued.
Churbull grunted with irritation, subsiding behind his snifter with a dark mutter about Frankish politics.
"The Frankish chaos isn't all bad," observed Sir Carrington, the director of MI6. "On the plus side, the power vacuum in Parisee continues to suck in the security forces of the Germanians, Rus and Chinese."
"Finally some good news," William muttered. "Are your boys and the Franks keeping up the pressure?"
"Yes sir. With our combined efforts, we've managed to bog down a large proportion of their secret services. We estimate at least half of all BND personnel are currently entangled in Francois, possibly more, and about a third of all NKVD and CSR operatives active in Europe."
"Excellent. Do whatever you must to keep them enmeshed there. The more operatives that remain bogged down in the Frankish quagmire, the less ability OZEV, Rus and CSR have to interfere with our operations in the Middle East and Southeast Asia."
"Yes, Prime Minister."
"Ahem, on that note," Flemons coughed awkwardly. "There is another matter to be aware of. I'm afraid some of the more, ahem, 'enthusiastic' boys from the SCE have decided to take matters into their own hands in the Qajar Empire without informing us beforehand …"
"Oh good lord," grumbled Sir Carrington, rubbing his temples. "What have those gung-ho idiots done this time?"
1953 July 17th, Wilhelmshaven, Germania:
"What am I doing wrong?" I grumbled. "There must be some flaw in my technique somewhere…"
I scowled at Lergen, Adenaue and Dertinge, more specifically at the buckets beside their chairs, filled with writhing fish, then at my own bucket which remained mockingly empty.
"Fear not, there's no special trick to it; it all just comes down to talent," Visha smirked, hoisting yet another cod from the depths of the North Sea and adding it to her pile. I stared longingly at her impressive haul, at least double the amount of anyone else. She spotted my glance.
"Why don't I give you this one," she offered, reaching over. I quickly moved my bucket to the opposite side of my deck chair before she could drop a fish in.
"I don't need your pity," I said primly.
Visha giggled. "At least we won't have to go shopping for dinner tonight. Would you prefer I make sushi, or perhaps a nice Büsumer fish stew?"
I snorted at her blatant attempts to distract me from the mission at hand. With intense concentration I attached a new worm to my hook and cast out my line. I was determined to have at least one success this afternoon.
"It's your own fault, Madame President," a smile twitched at the corner of Adenaue's usually-dour face. He too was reeling in yet another fish. "All this was your idea, after all. Though what was wrong with using the usual Cabinet Room in the Reich Chancellery I'll never know."
"What's wrong is that it's summertime, and the living is easy," I sniffed. "Fish are jumping, the cotton is high, and all that jazz. I should be enjoying my retirement lazing about on some tropical beach, instead of having to deal with a bunch of cranky South Americans. But since I'm stuck with it, we might as well all enjoy the sunshine and surf while we have the chance. Winter is coming for Europe, figuratively and literally."
My eyes lit up as I felt a tug on my line. With great enthusiasm I began to reel in my first catch of the day.
"And so you decided we should go fishing … on a pier that just so happens to be located right next to the most heavily-fortified naval port in Germania, purely on a whim?" the Chancellor drawled with considerable skepticism.
"Never mind that, don't drift from the topic." I said impatiently, as I drew my line in ever closer with great care. I waved my hand for him to continue.
"As you say, Madame President," he grunted. "We've now confirmed that President Taft has not withdrawn his approval, and we received our first set of payments from New Granada. All in US dollars."
"But those dollars are real, right?" I chuckled.
"I plan on sending the money straight to Germanian government accounts in US banks so that they can check if the dollars are authentic. If everything is in order, then the funds will be transferred to the Germanian Central Bank." Dertinge took a swig from his thermos of coffee as he reclined in the shade.
"Sounds like a solid plan. If the Grenadians are going to default on their debts, it would be the US lenders that would have to complain to their government..." With a cry of victory, I jerked my rod back. Only to discover that my hook was, once again devoid of both fish and bait. I cursed under my breath.
A choked laugh broke out beside me. I glared across, only to discover that Johanna, one of Elya's deputies had materialized there at some point.
"Ahem, I'm sorry for my lateness, Madame President." Johanna was putting up a heroic effort to stifle her grin at my empty hook, a battle Visha had already lost. "We've just received confirmation that the Navy's old diesel submarines have succeeded in distracting the Albish navy."
"Excellent. Then that means …"
"Yes, Target Zeta is en route. In spite of the Albish conducting the largest anti-submarine operation since their war against the Empire. They bought out all of their fancy toys. I don't think it has crossed their minds that maybe Zeta was somewhere else."
All present offered Johanna a round of congratulations on the BND's success. The woman beamed at our approval. I hadn't seen her this ecstatically happy in a while. Then again, stealing a VIP right from under the Albish stiff upper lip was no small feat.
"Their loss, our gain," Lergen stated, lighting a cigar. "Our navy boys have been ecstatic watching the Albish show off their latest anti-submarine capabilities, which would allow us to improve our own anti-submarine capabilities. I expect we will soon be hearing about delays in the design process for the new submarines; with first-hand observations of current Albish capabilities available, we have a rare chance for reassessment even before the prototyping stage."
"Agreed," I nodded absentmindedly. "As long as the delay and cost overruns don't delay our construction of the second generation nuclear submarines, some delay for redesign is acceptable. More importantly, Johanna, do the Albish know it was us?" I asked, turning back to the BND agent and cutting right to the issue foremost in my mind.
After all, if the Albish were about to declare war on us in response to an operation conducted on their own home soil, I had no intention of hearing the news while on a dock stinking of cod.
"Before we had our agents scale back their operations to be on alert for any retaliatory Albish counterintelligence operations, the information we acquired from AK-47 indicated significant confusion amongst their ranks," Johanna reported briskly. "We fed AK-47 information that pointed to a nebulous Middle Eastern group as the responsible party. We also scattered a few hints that this group might have been assisted by Aegyptian sympathizers within the Albish government. Although that might have been unnecessary, as it seems that their foreign affairs and intelligence boys are mostly focused on events on the ground in Aegyptus and the Qajar Empire."
"You mean the part where the Qajar Empire signed a treaty of friendship and alliance with North Bharat, and then released a recording of SCE agents attempting to assassinate the Qajarian monarchy as part of a botched coup attempt, right before getting caught in a losing firefight?" Visha interjected, waving her fishing-rod for emphasis.
"That's right, Madame Vice President," the intelligence deputy shook her head in dismay. "Gott in Himmel, what a mess! If anyone in the BND had messed up that badly, Director Müller would've ensured they spent the rest of their career analyzing Waldstattian radio intercepts – in a wooden hut on top of the Matterhorn!"
"Speaking of the devil," I asked, "how is Director Müller doing right now?"
"Very well, Madame President. I will make sure to pass on your concerns for her wellbeing. I believe you are aware of Anna's recent discharge from hospital; since she has no surviving relatives, Director Müller insisted on taking her in and looking after her in her own home until she has made a full recovery."
"Good," I nodded in approval. It was always gratifying seeing one's subordinates showing a proper care for the human resources under their jurisdiction. And I was pleased that Elya had seemed to have finally found something to do with herself while on her much-needed vacation. I had almost needed a crowbar to prise that obstinate woman out of her office. "Whatever makes them happy. As long as the two of them are actually resting and not handling anything remotely work-related, right?" I stared at the BND deputy.
"Ahehehe," Johanna chuckled nervously, before abruptly moving to Visha to assist her in gutting her fish. "I think what might have been the SCE's undoing was their preference for violence instead of being covert," she said hastily. "Ramming the palace main gate down and then driving several bomb trucks into the compound for a spectacular firework show was an incredibly bold move of kicking down the front door, and a stupid one. Especially when the Qajari king was in North Bharat signing the treaty, so all they accomplished was killing the queen and some other royal relatives."
Lergen and I shared a look of disdain. That was a hell of a way for the Franks to poison already strained relations. Communist or not, Shu's hard shift from being a servant of communism to wanting to eventually invade the CSR showed that humans are quite capable of shedding ideological concerns and allowing emotions to override logic when their immediate family members are slaughtered. And the SCE was about to learn that lesson the hard way.
"Speaking of the Francois Republic, what is the latest intel from there?" Dertinge interjected, finally abandoning his shade and joining us.
Johanna sighed. "General violence between the political extremes, Herr Foreign Minister. Pro-colonial fanatics, borderline communists, farmers, trade unionists and other groups are all openly battling each other in the streets of Parisee, Toulouse and Marseille. The political deadlock in the National Assembly is continuing and there are rumblings of possible labor strikes at a national level. Calvar's predictions turned out to be disturbingly accurate."
I wouldn't be losing any sleep over the country tearing itself apart. Serves them right for kicking open the hornets nest that is Aegyptus, and for trying to cozy up to the communists. What could go wrong?
At that moment the clear blast of a ship's horn rang out over the harbor. We looked up to see two Germanian destroyers glide into port. Not an unusual sight for Wilhelmshaven. What was less usual was what they were escorting – a rickety fishing boat so nondescript that its only noticeable aspect was that it looked as if it would collapse into a pile of rotten debris at any second.
I grinned, feeling my mood brighten for the first time since I'd cast in a line this afternoon. "He's here, finally! Dertinge, Johanna, with me! Everyone else continue on, we'll be back shortly."
I tossed my rod onto my deck chair and trotted towards the port. A contingent of marine mages guarding the docks spotted the three of us, and immediately snapped to attention. I gave them a nod and a smile as I swept past them to greet our distinguished visitor.
"Welcome to Germania, President Nasser." I reached out to grip the man's arm to help steady him as he staggered off the fishing boat across the gangplank and onto terra firma. "I hope the trip from the Allied Kingdom went well?" The Aegyptian looked a tad tired and seasick but otherwise didn't seem the worse for wear after his long ordeal.
"President Degurechaff," Nasser managed a weary smile. "As well as can be expected, all things considered."
"Glad to hear it. Come, we have already arranged your transportation. Normally I would be pleased to provide you with proper Germanian hospitality but all things considered, I felt you'd probably prefer to get back on Aegyptian soil as soon as possible."
"Thank you for your understanding."
I gave a wave of acknowledgement to his 'fishermen' escorts but had no time to offer my congratulations for their sterling work. The three of us guided Nasser to the nearby naval airfield and into the bomber awaiting us on the tarmac.
"Take a seat." I smiled as I gestured to the rows of seats. All empty, except one. "I'm sure you remember Ambassador Sadat. He insisted on being here to greet you as well."
"Glad to see you safe and sound, President," the Aegyptian ambassador to Germania shook Nasser's hand firmly. They shared matching expressions of grim determination on their faces.
"It's good to be amongst friends once more," Nasser nodded. He turned back to me. "On behalf of the Republic of Aegyptus, I thank Germania for the rescue. Other than the part where I dressed up like a fisherman and pretended to know how to fish, sure." He then smelled himself briefly, then sniffed his arm. "And I still stink of fish."
"Join the club," I murmured.
Ambassador Sadat removed a small bottle of cologne and began to discreetly sprinkle his boss.
"I would like to introduce you to my colleagues." I continued to smile as we all strapped ourselves in. I pointed to each person also seated with us. "President Nasser, Ambassador Sadat, this is Foreign Minister Dertinge and BND Deputy Director Goldschmidt."
"Pleasure to meet you both. It's certainly more pleasant than my involuntary meeting in Londinium," Nasser paused for a moment while the aircraft shuddered and lurched as it left the ground. "Let me be blunt, President Degurechaff – is there a price for my rescue?"
"My goal was to ensure that you arrive in Aegyptus safely. This plane will take you to Ildoa, and another ship will smuggle you to wherever in Aegyptus you need to go. It's another fishing boat, so I'm afraid you won't be rid of the smell anytime soon," I shrugged apologetically. Then frowned. "But considering that your country is under Albish and Frankish occupation at this point and with no signs of them leaving anytime soon – regardless of Southeast Asian colonies going up in flames again – we're not exactly sure of how to identify which resistance groups you wanted to go to."
"Direct intervention from Germania is out of the question?" Nasser instead raised a different matter.
"Middle East's politics aren't exactly my forte," I shrugged. "I was content with the status quo until the Allied Kingdom and the Francois Republic carelessly kicked open the hornets' nest instead of using diplomacy. Since we're being blunt, I can tell you that I can't afford to have another war with those two in Europe when my concern is keeping the CSR and their communist allies in check. Especially with the coup in the CSR that replaced the government with a cabal of hardliners."
"So then why did you rescue me in the first place?"
I deeply sighed and stared past him, out at the meadows of fluffy white clouds through the window. "I need someone to help put the Middle East back together. Someone I could trust to not set the region on fire. The Albish and Frankish proved that they can't do that, and I've lost my patience with them. The Turkmen Empire is their proxy, and they're not much better. And I don't want the communists and their proxy Qajar Empire to dominate the Middle East thanks to the two incompetent invaders."
I swiveled to stare into Nasser's black eyes. "Will you step up to that challenge? I will support you as needed and leave the Middle East to you, but I want to hear what you think of my proposal."
"I'll gladly accept that offer." Nasser seemed excited for a second before scowling. "But I can't put the Middle East back together when Aegyptus is under the jackboot of the Albish and Frankish."
"We'll reach out to the two parties for peace talks," Dertinge cleared his throat. "They would likely demand some concessions, but it would be in their interest to obtain peace before they lose all of their Southeast Asian colonies to communist backed rebels."
Something told me that the Albish and Frankish were going to stubbornly refuse any talks short of Aegyptus unconditionally capitulating, until they bled enough blood and money that their citizens started protesting in massive numbers. Which could take years, although the impending oil supply disruption may accelerate the public backlash, especially in winter. But I held my peace. Some things were implicitly understood between us all, and didn't need to be said out loud.
"I'll let you handle the peace talks and will authorize Mr. Sadat here to act on my behalf in Berun," Nasser replied.
Sadat nodded solemnly. "I will do my utmost for Aegyptus, President."
"I know you will, old friend. Minister Dertinge, if Germania really wants to support me, get me an acceptable peace deal that assures Aegyptus's sovereignty. If they want control of the Suez Canal so desperately, I want a substantial portion of the gross revenue and a cap on how much military force they can station around the canal."
"And where would you be during those peace talks?" Dertinge had a confused look on his face.
Nasser clenched his hands into fists, and his face hardened. "They both harassed me when I tried seeing them. Then the Frankish tried to murder me. The Albish held me in a prison. There's no point in me seeing them again at a conference table. I will remain in Aegyptus to rally the population. The one request I do have for you is to provide ships with high-powered radio transmitters to broadcast my messages to the entirety of Aegyptus."
"I'll have to discuss it with Minister Lergen, but I believe some arrangement could be put together," I murmured.
Johanna's orb suddenly chirped. She frowned as she listened to the encrypted message that only she could hear. After several minutes she looked up at me.
"I apologize for interrupting your discussions Madame President, but you previously requested immediate updates of any major events occurring in the Middle East…"
I nodded. "That's fine, go ahead."
"Syria's pro-Frankish monarchy has been overthrown in a coup. An hour later, the Turkmen Empire announced that they had an obligation to "restore order" in Syria. Most of their forces on Cyprus Island are being redeployed back onto ships to be replaced by internal security soldiers and riot police. Those ships are probably intended to disembark in Syria."
I turned my head to look at Dertinge. "We will be putting out public messaging to show our disapproval of the Turkmen Empire eating up the Middle East and to demand the Allied Kingdom and Francois Republic to put a stop to it. I expect those three countries to ignore us, so we'll have to make preparations to at least support Aegyptus's insurgency to pressure the Frankish and Albish to leave."
"It seems we're short on time," Nasser gave a bark of hoarse laughter. "I never thought the Albish and Frankish would be this incompetent."
"You'd think colonial empires that have lasted for four centuries would have some experienced hands steering the ship," I agreed. "But apparently not. Perhaps they've all retired by now?"
"So much the better for us," Sadat noted. "Never interrupt an enemy when he's making a mistake."
"I see we have a fellow student of military history among us," I grinned. "Alright, it seems we have a framework of understanding for the road ahead. I wish you a safe trip President Nasser, but Minister Dertinge and I must say farewell for now."
Nasser blinked. "Aren't we mid-air right now? Don't we have some time until our next stop?"
"Not a problem." I unbuckled and strode over to the cockpit and gave a quick order to the pilots. A moment later, the bomber's huge service ramp groaned and swung open. The howl of the wind echoed loudly inside the empty aircraft. "Come on, Dertinge."
"Ahhh, you go ahead, Madame President … I'll get off at the stopover in Berun …" Dertinge's pupils shrank and his face turned white as he stared out into the blue and white void.
"Don't be absurd, we still have a Cabinet meeting to finish," I admonished, as I dragged him out of his seat.
"That's quite all right … I need to take action on the strategy we've just agreed on immediately … Not to mention organize our official response to the Syrian coup … as well as …" he babbled, trembling all over in fright.
"You have an entire bureaucracy to do that for you," I rolled my eyes.
"But –"
"No excuses," I snapped, tired of his waffling. "I'm going to damn well catch something even if it takes me all day or night! And you're all going to watch me do it! No damn fish is going to get the best of Tanya von Degurechaff!"
And with that I seized my Foreign Minister around the waist and launched us both out into the wild blue yonder.
The two Aegyptians stared open-mouthed. There was a period of blank silence against the howling wind until the service ramp closed.
Johanna shrugged helplessly. "Don't let it get to you. You get used to this sort of thing after a while."
Meanwhile in Moskva:
Staring into the face of the Chinese ambassador, General Secretary Pisarev kept his face expressionless, concealing his great annoyance at what he was hearing from the new Chinese regime. He had resigned himself to the knowledge that all plans that had been agreed with the old government were well out the window and that the new so-called Chairman Gao was just a voice box for the actual person in charge of the country, but that made his annoyance not one whit less acute.
Privately, he was furious at the newly installed Chinese government's efforts to constrain the new Russy Confederation's foreign policy and economic development. It was an unnecessary complication to an already fraught situation. The regions within the confederation had no lack of internal disagreement, most importantly the fissure between the regions opting to adopt market socialism versus those who still held onto their strict systems of centralized economic planning.
Selling oil to the Albish had proven to be another such controversial decision, but one he was willing to risk his hard-won position to make that a reality. Such riches would serve as not only a tool to rebuild the Rus into a great power, but also as a lever to exert political pressure on the oil-addicted capitalists.
The new war in Aegyptus had made that oil vulnerability painfully clear.
The only way the Rus could hope to regain their lost territory and influence was by ensuring that the Allied Kingdom and their allies continued to fight against OZEV and its allies. The capitalists thus divided, he would be free to nibble away at the countries under the distracted OZEV's slackening protection. Once OZEV was sufficiently weakened, the Albish would be left without allies when Rus at last came to retake its rightful hold over the eastern Baltic. Divide and conquer.
And now it was up to him to convince the Chinese to allow that to happen.
If Pisarev wasn't successful, his fragile political situation would quickly result in the loose, squabbling coalition of states deciding to find someone else to replace him. Worse, his successor would probably be someone foolish enough to believe that the still-rebuilding Russy Confederation could win a direct war against both the Allied Kingdom and Germania, along with all of both countries' allies. It had taken a significant amount of work and many concessions to convince the semi-autonomous regions to back him over other candidates, so he was walking on thin ice sheets over a river. And Loria was still sitting on the sidelines, avoiding any of the politics, presumably to ensure that his NKVD could continue to act independently.
'In hindsight, I probably should have taken the significant risk of supporting Chairman Zhang and his allies at the start of the coup in the CSR instead of taking a 'wait and see' approach and focusing my attention on domestic politics. It may have ended in me being ousted as well had that gamble failed, but Zhang would have fully backed my proposal if he was still alive.
"At least help us develop Sibyria's oil extraction and transportation infrastructure," Pisarev said, pointing at the map of eastern Sibyria adorning his wall. "The Allied Kingdom is furious that you and North Bharat convinced the Qajar Empire to officially join our bloc and cut oil exports to them. They would rather suffer through major oil shortages than to buy oil from us as a result. They accused us of being directly involved with a plan to kick away oil supply to them and then to offer our own oil. The Nordic Council won't help with our proposed pipeline project without the Albish backing."
Pisarev took note of the Chinese ambassador's blank facial expression, but the tone of his voice was all that Pisarev needed to know of how Kang truly felt towards Rus.
"The core problem with your proposal is that even if the AK were happy to continue with the pipeline project, you will be tying the Russy Confederation's economy to the capitalists! How could you trust them?! Chairman Gao is most concerned that Rus would end up playing straight into their economic trap!" Ambassador Yao noisily set down his cup of tea upon finishing his rebuttal.
'Chairman Gao? He probably rubber stamped Kang's decisions. Why Kang put up this facade of him pretending to retain his original position instead of making himself Chairman, I have no idea.' Pisarev fumed.
"Explain how it would be a trap," Pisarev ground out, glaring at the infuriating diplomat.
"Let's assume the project goes all according to plan." Yao smiled and stretched out his arms. "On budget and on schedule. So what will you be doing with the foreign currency flowing into your coffers?"
"We import what we can't extract or create on our own. Technologies for example. To catch up with the capitalists and build our economy and military. And also food imports to alleviate the constant food shortages."
"And by relying on imports, there won't be any incentive to develop your own domestic industry or for other allies to develop the industry to meet your needs when the capitalists are blatantly going to make us dependent on them," said Yao, narrowing his eyes for effect before continuing.
"Your strategy would work wonderfully, General Secretary, right up until the point where the global price of oil collapses or the political situation changes sufficiently that the Albish no longer buy your oil. Leaving you encumbered by a vast surplus of expensive oil extraction infrastructure and no foreign currency to import things.
"We have done some research on the boom and bust of countries that were dependent on one or two resource exports," Ambassador Yao continued, a hint of self-satisfied smugness entering his voice, "and you would be walking straight into that same exact problem. Or the Russy Confederation could find itself having to compromise with the Albish to maintain the oil trade, conceding an ever-expanding share of its foreign and domestic policy to the capitalists. Not to mention that, compared to other resource extractions such as ores or plantations, it is difficult to shut down oil wells and later bring them back into operation, so those oil wells will have to keep pumping even when there is nowhere to store the oil. Quite inefficient."
"Do you intend on replacing us with the Qajar Empire for your main source of oil?" Pisarev asked, tapping his foot impatiently.
"The Qajar Empire already possesses a fully built up infrastructure for oil extraction, refining and transportation. All free for the taking without any need of costly investment," confirmed Ambassador Yao with a gentle smile. "It only requires a handful of modifications for the oil to flow east instead of west. Chairman Gao and his staff have carefully reviewed the project's cost estimates to build up infrastructure in Sibyria, and have concluded that it would consume much more resources for the same result. Gaining the Qajar Empire also means cutting down the supply available to the capitalists when they need oil the most."
The ambassador paused for a moment and took a sip of tea before continuing. "Now, it would be foolish to only rely on the Qajar Empire for oil when we're about to look at a growing proxy war against the Turkmen Empire and then there's that whole Aegyptus mess. So there will still be some investments from the CSR to develop Sibyria."
"So instead of building up the oil infrastructure in Sibyria within several years with the Albish assistance, it would take a few decades with you? Unacceptable." Pisarev spat.
"And if we ever go to war against the capitalists, what will that oil export business look like? Or would you be telling us not to go to war to keep the foreign currency and imports flowing?"
There was a knock on the door while the two men glared at each other.
"Enter and spit it out," Pisarev glared at the door.
"It's the Turkmen Empire," an aide muttered while opening the door.
"What about it?"
The aide cleared his throat nervously. "The NKVD have advised that the Turkmen Empire intends to annex Syria and Mesopotamia, and expects a war with the Qajar Empire. And the Allied Kingdom and Francois Republic will allow that to happen, possibly due to the two European countries' military forces being overstretched."
Yao hissed, "The situation has drastically changed. I need to head back to Nanjing before we can continue our talks."
Pisarev's eyes twitched as Yao quickly exited his office, without even waiting for Pisarev's reply.
1953 July 22nd, in Berun:
We were enjoying Visha's excellent breakfast when the morning news on TV switched from the American announcement of their first nuclear bomb test to covering the Allied Kingdom's domestic situation.
I wasn't surprised nor worried about the Americans finally getting their first nuke, a little less than a decade after the Americans in my previous world's timeline. If they use plutonium for their bombs, they would have to buy more from us until their graphite moderated reactors finish construction and are fully operational. The big question is when will the Albish and Frankish reveal their own bomb. On a similar note, the BND had advised that they'd recently made a major breakthrough in learning about the Rus' nuclear weapons development's personnel, so it wouldn't be long before we knew all about the communists' progress.
"Prime Minister Richard William delivered a speech to Parliament assuring the public that the Aegyptus situation will be quickly ended, the Suez Canal repaired to resume shipping traffic, and that the Turkmen Empire will be an important ally in the Middle East," the news anchor announced. "This was in response to criticism over last week's fuel rationing implementation. He also stated that he will be accepting Lothiern's request for the Allied Kingdom to take over internal security within the Lothiern East Indies."
"Well, that might have explained why the Albish ignored our requests to mediate peace talks." Visha took another bite of her Bismarckbrötchen. "Too busy with the domestic political storm that their war caused."
"Mm. Though I'm curious to see if the Franks replied to our message," I said, and finished the remainder of my herring. "Delicious, as usual," I praised her, wiping my lips with a napkin. "You've certainly put your bountiful catch from Wilhelmshaven to good use; I never knew there were so many different ways to prepare fish."
"Just as long as you're not bored of seafood by now," replied Visha as she pretended to be indifferent, but I could see the pleased smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
I downed the remainder of my coffee before getting out of my chair to give her a kiss. "Thanks for the meal. I'll be heading to the office a bit early today, I'll see you later."
As soon as I entered my office, I could see that messages were already emerging from the pneumatic tube system, all apparently marked as high priority. Another day, another pile of mess I had to deal with. At least I'd enjoyed a good breakfast beforehand; that would help me to get through this interminable morning.
The first message was from the Foreign Ministry, reporting that the Frankish acting foreign minister had outright rejected our offer to mediate peace talks, stating that they had won the war and expected the Aegyptians to accept their new puppet government.
I snorted and stifled a laugh. Oh, if only that was how the world worked. Like when the Empire knocked out the Francois Republic with Operation Revolving Door – until the North African resistance. Or when the coalition encircled North Bharat's entire army, thus having the free reign to invade a defenseless North Bharat – until the CSR intervened.
Nasser should be arriving secretly in Aegyptus around now, while his requested radio ships were being prepared in Ildoa. The Franks may think they are close to putting out the fires in Aegyptus, but we've just tossed more fuel onto the smoldering ashes to reignite an inferno. And they still have to deal with their Southeast Asian colonies going up in flames, with the communists smelling weakness.
"They're going to have to pull forces out from somewhere," I muttered, shaking my head as I opened the next memo, which answered my own question. "Oh, you must be joking…"
The continued turmoil between the political parties in Francois Republic and the inability to agree on a new prime minister resulted in snap elections, resulting in a proposed wartime budget bill to enlarge the Frankish military against the resurgent rebellions stalling. When Calvar was informed of those events, he predicted that there would be a coup from either or both sides to break the stalemate.
Meanwhile the Frankish military had pushed ahead without legislation to construct numerous "containment sectors" and "security camps" within Algeria and Aegyptus. According to BND reconnaissance, the sectors would be fortified with electrified barbed wires and landmines, severely restricting internal movements within the two countries as a result. Where and how the military was going to acquire their funding, no one seemed quite sure. The BND also assessed the "security camps'' would likely be similar to the ones used in Southeast Asia. Conveniently, a phone call of a discussion between two Frankish military officers had also been intercepted, wherein they considered utilizing "security camps" in response to the minor but growing unrest in their African colonies.
The BND noted that the Algerian locals in the Francois Republic were also at a boiling point from months of escalating tensions and the ongoing Aegyptian War, because as it turned out, Nasser was also popular among them. Unsurprisingly, the Algerians and anti-colonialists in Parisee had turned out in public protests to defy the curfew, and unsurprisingly the protests had quickly escalated to riots when Frankish law enforcement tried cracking down on them. Already there were many casualties on both sides, as well as unverified yet plausible reports of extrajudicial killing and lynching of Algerian locals in the Francois Republic. I immediately dialed my hotline to BND headquarters. Johanna picked up after the third ring.
"What the hell is going on in the Francois Republic?!" I exclaimed.
"Everybody and their dog have been asking me that same question all week," Johanna sighed with a depressed tone. "I take it you read this morning's intel briefing? It's the natural consequence of a highly polarized country that cannot decide between either just walking away from all its colonies, or not compromising on letting colonies go. The Frankish economy is already straining from the continuous wars on multiple fronts, and the rapidly rising global oil prices, and we both know that is not a recipe for societal stability."
"Yes, yes," I frowned as I gripped the telephone receiver harder. "I'm just worried about having to deal with an imploding neighbor and their problems being shoved onto my doorstep."
There was silence in the line.
"Hello?"
Johanna's voice came back a few seconds later. "Sorry, I was just given another report. Something about an intense siege battle at a Frankish military post in some place called 'Dien Bien Phu' in northern Indochina. Frankish forces are encircled and are being evacuated by air after being routed in a rapid string of defeats in the north. The Albish have re-tasked some of their expeditionary air force assets in Singapore over to Indochina to evacuate Frankish forces from that airfield and provide air strikes. Insurgencies have also roared back to life all across Southeast Asia. A few major cities in the Lothiern East Indies are under siege by rebels. The CSR have definitely canceled their secret deal with the Albish and Frankish. We are almost certain that they are fueling the fires across the board."
So everything is starting to fall apart for the Allied Kingdom and Francois Republic. But if it was somehow a victory for Germania, it was an incredibly hollow one. I glanced at the deep grooves my fingers had drilled into the telephone handle over the past month. Looks like it was almost time to order another replacement.
Oh well, I'll just need to navigate my way through this mess day by day and we'll be out in the clear eventually.
Meanwhile in Moskva, at the Grand Kremlin Palace:
A window opened. Pisarev was pushed out of it, falling to his death.
After the window was shut, Vannikov shook hands with Li Lisan while Loria and his agents left the room, dragging away Pisarev's loyalists.
"Pleasure doing business with you, General Secretary Vannikov. If any trouble arises, my army can assist," Li smiled.
"The deal still stands." Vannikov replied as he stopped with the hand shaking. "I will arrange to have trains transport your army to our northwestern border regions, and when we land a crushing blow against the Nordic Council, I will help you become the rightful leader of the CSR."
"Tell me what opposition we will be going up against, so that I can prepare my army."
Vannikov began pointing at the map. "Legadonia Entente's military had been significantly downsized, lulled by the long duration of the complete lack of our military forces next to their border and the rest of the Nordic Council's borders, which we will use to our advantage. Suomi, Livonia and Lithuania aren't exactly known for their military prowess either even if they were able to mobilize quickly. The Allied Kingdom that had been the Nordic Council's major partner just committed all of their deployable forces to Aegyptus and their rebelling colonies, and the Francois Republic and Ispagna are also distracted," Vannikov grinned. "We won't have another opportunity like this. I couldn't believe my luck that the capitalists willingly self-destructed from destroying the Suez Canal."
"I feel like you're forgetting the other imperial power that is right next to you. The one that could interrupt our actions." Li coughed.
"There is a limited window of time where the Germanian military will be light on inventory from shipping a large quantity of military goods to New Granada, and will be concerned with rebuilding their inventory with new systems. Another military modernization effort is underway, you see. Then there will be the inevitable delays from troubleshooting problems with the new systems and learning how to utilize them. And there is the oil supply problem that even the Devil of the Rhine can't immediately resolve, which we don't have because of the Qajar Empire's and my country's oil production. During that time, they won't be able to fight a protracted war. And by the time they are ready for a world war, a few years will have passed by, making it harder for them to politically justify a war and giving us plenty of time to fortify our positions."
"They might heavily rely on their mages in the first few weeks to buy time for the rest of their military to mobilize. Something that my augmented mages will easily match. I also have a few Sibyrian Army battalions that joined my cause and will be useful in remote mountainous and forested terrain to root out enemy guerrillas, or conduct their own guerrilla operations. And what about the rest of Germania's lap dogs?"
"I keep some of my forces in our border fortifications facing Belarusia and Kieva so that they can't fully commit their forces to the north," Vannikov traced a line on the map. "Caucasia is a no man's land for both sides, so no need to stick our hand into that meat grinder. Which is why I will need your army to help with a rapid seizing of our former territories of Suomi, Livonia and Lithuania, then fortifying our positions and then offering a ceasefire before the capitalists can adequately respond."
"Does Kang know about this?"
"He'll know after we make our moves," Vannikov rolled his eyes. "Considering his hostility towards the capitalists, I expect him to at least remain neutral in the conflict and indirectly threaten the capitalists with total war if they reject our generous ceasefire offer. I sent him a message a few days ago asking if he had any plans for eastern Europe and took his silence as a tacit approval."
"Excellent. When do we start?"
"When your army is ready. We will have to move quickly to catch the Nordic Council by surprise."
"Shouldn't we stir some unrest in those countries to inflict chaos and confusion, and to also have some of the locals help us? In the event that the capitalists react extremely aggressively or the locals demonstrate powerful resilience, we can deny involvement and go back to revise our plans. That's what I would have done," Li had a look of concern.
"That would alert the capitalists of us making our moves, which was why I didn't share my details with Kang. We need to catch them completely unprepared," Vannikov then boastfully laughed. "We have only to kick in the door and the whole rotten structure will come crashing down!"
AN:
India has large quantities of coal to make coal-to-oil synthetic plants potentially viable, at least for political purposes of minimizing the shock from the Middle East's situation and the growing tensions in South America: wiki/Coal_in_India
Reference to the USSR's oil industry development and how it contrasts with the Russy Confederation's situation: watch?v=LrZ1eMlzwhc
Reference to the "resource curse": wiki/Resource_curse
As imports become cheaper in all sectors, internal employment suffers and with it the skill infrastructure and manufacturing capabilities of the nation.
As a example of RL Nasser's popularity throughout the Middle East during the Suez Crisis: wiki/1956_riots_in_Iraq
In 1956, riots took place in Iraq in support of Gamal Abdel Nasser during the Suez Crisis, and in opposition to political prisoners held by the regime of King Faisal II of Iraq. Communists and Nationalists took to the streets in Najaf, and soon after the protests spread to Mosul and Sulaymaniyah.
wiki/Suez_Crisis#Anti-war_protests_in_Britain
Although the public believed the British government's justification of the invasion as a separation of Israeli and Egyptian forces,[158] protests against the war occurred in Britain after it began.
…
The stormy and violent debates in the House of Commons on 1 November 1956 almost degenerated into fist-fights after several Labour MPs compared Eden to Hitler.[168]
…
According to public opinion polls at the time, 37% of the British people supported the war while 44% were opposed.[174][175] The Observer newspaper in a leader (editorial) attacked the Eden government for its "folly and crookedness" in attacking Egypt while The Manchester Guardian urged its readers to write letters of protest to their MPs.[176] The Economist spoke of the "strange union of cynicism and hysteria" in the government and The Spectator stated that Eden would soon have to face "a terrible indictment".[176] The majority of letters written to MPs from their constituents were against the Suez attack.[177] Significantly, many of the letters come from voters who identified as Conservatives.[178]
…
According to some historians, the majority of British people were on Eden's side.[158][183][184] On 10 and 11 November an opinion poll found 53% supported the war, with 32% opposed.[185]
I'm assuming fuel rationing and high oil prices in Tanya's world, along with Aegyptians continuing their insurgency even after total occupation, would tip the balance more towards the anti-war protests.
Reference to the 'Osman Empire' name: wiki/Ottoman_dynasty
References to the assassination attempt on Nasser: en. wiki/Spycatcher
Wright also tells of the MI6 plot to assassinate President Nasser during the Suez Crisis;
French intelligence service also had plotted to kill Nasser during the Suez Crisis: /9t1s-w2hJkw?t=443
Reference to the "containment sectors": wiki/Morice_Line
The Morice Line had a significant impact of the reduction of guerrillas activities by forces that originated from Tunisia. Though the Morice Line was not a "fortification" in the traditional sense of the word, it was nonetheless effective in reducing FLN activity during the Algerian War.
Reference to the "security camps:
wiki/Algerian_War#French_counter-insurgency_operations
Finding it impossible to control all of Algeria's remote farms and villages, the French government also initiated a program of concentrating large segments of the rural population, including whole villages, in camps under military supervision to prevent them from aiding the rebels. In the three years (1957–60) during which the regroupement program was followed, more than 2 million Algerians[29] were removed from their villages
wiki/Briggs_Plan
The Briggs Plan (Malay: Rancangan Briggs) was a military plan devised by British General Sir Harold Briggs shortly after his appointment in 1950 as Director of Operations during the Malayan Emergency (1948–1960). The plan aimed to defeat the Malayan National Liberation Army by cutting them off from their sources of support amongst the rural population.[1] To achieve this a large programme of forced resettlement of Malayan peasantry was undertaken, under which about 500,000 people (roughly 10% of Malaya's population) were forcibly transferred from their land and moved to concentration camps euphemistically referred to as "new villages".[2]
wiki/Paris_massacre_of_1961
Graffiti on the Pont Saint-Michel in 1961: "Ici on noie les Algériens" ("Here we drown Algerians").[1][2] Dozens of bodies were later pulled from the River Seine.
The FLN decided to resume bombings against the French police at the end of August 1961; from the end of August to the beginning of October 1961, 11 policemen were killed and 17 injured in Paris and its suburbs. "These bombings had the effect of spreading fear throughout the ranks of the Paris police, but also for increasing the desire for revenge and hate against the whole of the community. During the whole of September, the Algerian population was severely repressed. In practice, this massive repression was based on physical appearance", according to Einaudi.[18] There were daily raids against Algerians—and frequently any Maghrebi people (Moroccans or Tunisians), and even Spanish or Italian immigrants, who were taken for Algerians. Algerians were arrested at work or in the streets and thrown into the Seine with their hands tied in order to drown them, among other methods, as shown for example in a report by the priest Joseph Kerlan from the Mission de France.[19]
According to Einaudi, "Already at this time, policemen [were] boasting about throwing Algerians in the Seine" river.[10]
The raids, violence and drownings would continue over the following days. For several weeks, unidentified corpses were discovered along the river banks. The victims of the massacre can be estimated to at least 200 fatalities.[22]
In 1961, the police prefecture spoke only of "2 persons shot dead".[23]
Reference to the Battle of Dien Bien Phu: wiki/Battle_of_Dien_Bien_Phu
watch?v=vAVYfh2_GTE