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Chapter 19: Repercussions of not being polite
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Part 5
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What the hell is happening in Russia!?
President Michael Cole
Civil War in Russia?
Spetznaz units moved to detain the famous oligarch Yuri Gerasimov earlier today, resulting in a massive ongoing battle in Moskow. The private forces of various other oligarchs then engaged Moscow's police, OMON detachments, and an Airborne Battalion deployed to keep the peace and enforce the lockdown ordered by the Russian government in the aftermath of the President's death.
BBC News
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28 December 1996
Moscow, Russian Federation
Earth
Milky Way Galaxy
Gunfire and explosions thundered over Moscow. The sound dampened only after Korolev and key ministers entered the presidential bunker under the Kremlin, which until a few years ago was used by the Soviet Premier. Now, the flags were different, and the coffee machines were German. Everything else was like Pavel remembered from serving as an adjutant years ago.
With the President gone and the Vice-President a non-entity, politically speaking, it was up to a clique of Generals and ministers to figure out a path forward.
"Korolev, what the fuck are your people doing?!" Popov finally found his balls and roared.
"They faced unusually high resistance," Korolev answered without batting an eye. "It is as if someone warned Gerasimov. Who would do such a thing?" The question was meant to be ironic and sarcastic. Yet, Pavel could see two people at the table suddenly look even paler than before.
"I have nothing to do with this!" Popov spat.
Korolev was reasonably sure that was the case. FSB has been watching his every move to ensure OMON could be relied upon. However, the same couldn't necessarily be said for all of Popov's people, much less for at least two of the ministers in this very room. They were making fortunes from oil through interests entangled with those of Gerasimov's holdings. If their friend went down hard, it might very well ruin them.
"You don't," The FSB Director agreed. He tapped a hidden button under the table, and the supposedly sealed bunker door opened.
Chekov limped inside. His armor was covered with blood and dust. Half the Major's face was one big bruise, and his right eye was swollen shut.
A detachment from Chekov's unit stalked in, weapons at the ready.
"Gerasimov was a snake," Chekov bit out.
"It is treason then," The FSB man sighed gravely. "The kind we can't let slide."
Korolev nodded, and Chekov pointed at the Economic Minister and the Minister of Justice. A pair of soldiers grabbed the protesting men and dragged them out of the bunker.
"Sit down and report, Major," Korolev ordered.
Chekov dragged himself to one of the newly freed seats and nearly collapsed. Half the detachment that followed him remained inside and took positions near the bunker's entrance.
"Gerasimov had a damn army in that building of his. Without the air support, we would still be fighting to take it. Deploying the attack helicopters broke the back of his mercenaries. We could rapidly advance after that until we reached the eleventh floor. That was where he had his collection, and that place was a bunker," Chekov looked at the table and took a glass of water with a shaking hand.
"It took us about an hour to gain an entrance. By the time we could storm the area, whatever wore Gerasimov like a suit had time to break out his alien gear. He had six people in alien armor to back him up. They tried to fight their way out," Chekov grimaced, recalling that bloody mess.
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They had to cut and blow through thick armored shutters barring the way to Gerasimov's collection. The core of the eleventh floor was an armored box reinforced enough to stop the autocannons of the attack helicopters. It was a minor miracle that the thing didn't collapse the floor and the core of the building after all the punishment the structure took.
"Surrender, or we will shoot you dead!" Zukhov demanded as soon as they had a way inside.
A burst from AKM came through the hole, bounced off the wall beside it, and smashed into the body armor of a combat engineer who stumbled back.
"Smoke them," Chekov ordered.
Smoke grenades and flashbangs flew into the opening and detonated. Whatever glass had survived until now inside shattered. A yellow bolt of energy passed through the smoke, burning a fist-sized hole into the damn reinforced wall. Its very passage set an unlucky soldier on fire. His buddies tackled him to the ground, and they did their best to extinguish the flames.
"Frag grenades!" Zukhov snapped and waved at Chekov, who nodded and raced to his radio operator.
"Command, this is Fox One, we have a Snake. I say again, we have a Snake!"
Offensive grenades detonated, filling the armored compartment with shrapnel. Even more smoke grenades rolled in while everyone let go of their lighter weapons, going for grenade launchers and RPGs.
The first soldiers to rush died, torn apart by energy weapons from a movie. The death was familiar enough – Chekov had seen too many people torn apart by cannon, set on fire, or both.
A grenade launcher thumped, and then two RPG rounds flew inside before the second group of soldiers rushed in. The resulting explosions shook the floor, and there was no accurate return fire this time. Someone opened up with a machine gun, another PKM by the sound of it.
Grenades exploded, followed by more RPG rounds. Only then, was there blessed silence. Chekov nodded at his old friend and took point, entering the bunker. The thick smoke would be choking if it wasn't for his gas mask. The Major raised his grenade launcher just in case and squinted at the smoke. He could see silhouettes nearby – their gear was familiar enough. Nothing moved more profoundly in the bunker as far as he could see.
"Forward, carefully!" Chekov hissed.
His only warning was a ripple through the smoke before something shoved it straight at him. Chekov found himself flying as if a giant kicked him. He slammed into a broken stand, which shattered under his weight, then hit the ground hard at an angle that nearly broke his neck.
Screams and explosions rippled over the Major, adding more abuse to his hurting body. He crawled away, seeking cover, only to find broken debris and crumbled bodies.
Another ripple went through the air, and men screamed, only for their voices to sharply cut out.
Chekov glared through a bleary eye at a figure in gray armor surrounded by a glowing golden shield. It had its hand raised. The air rippled from its palm and slammed a crawling soldier into the ground with such force that the tiles on the floor caved with an unpleasant crunch.
An RPG round flew through the breach in the bunker and slammed into the golden field. The explosion shook the floor and trashed anything that had survived so far. Yet the alien remained intact.
'Was that how the Americans died?' Chekov wondered.
More smoke grenades rolled in. An invisible blast caught two of them and shoved them near Chekov, covering him in billowing clouds of chemicals. A massive explosion followed, which washed over him with enough power to push his body aside.
The next thing he knew, Chekov was staring into Zukhov's face. His friend's eyes were squinting down at him, and his mouth was a thin, pale line. Not good signs, the Major decided.
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"It turned out that whatever shield that thing had, it wasn't sensitive enough to stop a thrown pack of Semtex from ending up between his legs before going off," Chekov mumbled. "His armor is mostly intact, but the same can't be said for the one inside. We shot the body repeatedly to ensure no snakes would come slithering out."
"That is good enough for me, Colonel Chekov. Well done. Now, go see a doctor and rest," Korolevs ordered.
The newly minted Colonel slowly got up, saluted stiffly, and limped out, followed by his soldiers.
Now, Chekov's fortunes were closely bound to Korolev's, making him even more reliable in the long run. Pavel noted that no one contradicted him when he technically overstepped his position and gave the promotion. That little fact had exciting implications.
"Gerasimov was a threat that had to go," Korolev concluded after the bunker door closed behind the last soldier.
"There will be consequences," The Interior Minister warned.
"Worse than a hostile alien running around unchecked?" The FSB Director inquired. The old man hid it well. However, he was obviously disturbed by how the alien had remained undetected for who knew how long. That was a testament to how unsettled the spymaster was.
"We have open clashes between mercenaries, gangsters, and security forces on the streets of Moscow right now!" Popov exclaimed. "You can't pretend that is business like usual!"
"It could have been worse. Gerasimov could have had a nuclear weapon," Korolev reminded them. Those words briefly got everyone to shut up and think about the bullet they dodged.
"What are we going to do now?" The Minister of Defense asked.
"We secure the capital, ensure the fighting ends, and try to pick up the pieces before everyone knows about the aliens. Any long-term plans are likely moot until we know more on that front," Korolev suggested. "And we make damn sure no one overreacts when that alien comes to visit."
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Part 6
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Civil War in Russia!
After the alleged assassination of the President of the Russian Federation and the attempted arrest of the Oligarch Yuri Gerasimov, violence erupted across multiple cities within the country. A clique of Oligarch led by Fiodor Zaytsev announced their intention to fight against the hardliners who have seized power in Moscow on the TV channel Novi Izvestiq, owned by Mr. Zaytsev.
Battles between security forces and private military contractors aligned with the oligarchs led to heavy casualties in St. Petersburg. We have unconfirmed claims that Mayor Alexandrov and his Deputies were caught in the crossfire and are allegedly dead. As of four in the afternoon, local time, Mr. Zaytsev proclaimed the liberation of St. Petersburg from government forces.
BBC World News
The fighting in Moscow is calming down this evening after the Russian government deployed heavy combat forces from the Central Military District. This morning saw heavy fighting in the city between Oligarch forces dug into buildings owned by their patrons and military units from the First Guards Tank Division and airmobile elements that had been flying in since the evening of the 29th. Air strikes leveled parts of three districts in the capital, where the fighting was fiercest.
We have unconfirmed reports that at least four members of the so-called League of Oligarchs died in the fighting, with two more fleeing the country.
CNN
Armed standoff at Heathrow!
A few hours ago, a private jet landed at Heathrow, carrying a fleeing Russian oligarch seeking political asylum. Military vehicles and SAS soldiers surrounded the plane upon arrival. Right now, a representative of the Foreign Office is negotiating with the passengers.
Our government refuses to comment on the ongoing situation.
BBC
Mere hours after the Secretary of State announced that the United States would not be involved in a matter internal to the Russian Federation, federal agents and SWAT units stormed the hotel rooms of Igor Volkov. Mr. Volkov is a Russian oligarch identified as loosely affiliated with the late Mr. Gerasimov. He has been in the United States for the past two weeks on a business trip, abruptly ending with his arrest in Florida.
CNN
"There is a fascinating and concerning pattern emerging here, Jane. First, the Vancouver Summit, then the abrupt meetings in the White House a few days ago. A coincidence? I think not! Right after the Russian ambassador returned for a high-level meeting of the Russian government, all hell broke loose over there!"
"What do you believe is happening, Dr. Franklin?"
"This is an educated guess. You understand that, right? At this time, we don't have a solid proof one way or another."
"Yes, Dr. Franklin. I would love to hear your opinion and am sure our viewers agree!"
"It all comes back to the crazy cult leader who threatened nuclear terrorism. We haven't heard much about where the nuclear weapon came from, did we? I believe now we know. It is no secret that since the Soviet Union fell, the Russian Federation has been in bad shape. It struggles to pay its civil servants and soldiers, and in places it is so bad conscripts have to sell everything they can get their hands on not to starve! I postulate that the nuclear device was Russian, stolen, or sold to the black market; it doesn't really matter. Obviously, certain oligarchs were involved, and our government figured out who, how, and why not so long ago. That was what those meetings were all about."
"That is not a theory we've heard, Dr. Franklin. I must confess, your take on the situation is more believable than most."
"I certainly hope so, Jane! So, the Russian President might have had a genuine heart attack at the shock. If that nuke detonated, wiping out one of our cities, and it was later traced to Russia, it might have meant nuclear war. Or, he might have been assassinated by someone in his inner circle who was involved and saw no way out. We don't know. We do know that soon after that fateful meeting in the Kremlin, the Russian military went after one of the most powerful oligarchs in the country, and they meant business. If others in this League of theirs were involved, that would explain what happened in Miami and the ongoing crisis at Heathrow!"
The Jennifer Hearth Show
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30 December 1996
Moscow, Russian Federation
Earth
Milky Way Galaxy
Chekov felt a bit less shit today. A bit of vodka, stimulants, and painkillers, followed by two days of mandatory rest, made him look less than a punching bag as well. However, half his face was a surrealistic painting of unpleasant colors. At least his right eye was all right and expected to recover, which was a stroke of pure luck, the Doctor told him. He could even move with less of a limp now, though his days of fighting on the frontline were likely over.
"Colonel, come in!" Korolev sounded too damn chipper for someone who likely hasn't slept in the last few days.
Chekov entered the General's office – one of the largest under the Kremlin, which meant he was more critical now than ever. That panned out, Chekov thought. Korolev was one of the people keeping Russia from flying apart right now.
"I have a job for you. We need retaking control of St. Petersburg as soon as possible, and we need the city as intact as possible," and here it came. The reward for a job well done was a harder job.
"What are my orders, sir?" Chekov asked.
"You are taking over the newly reformed 11 Guards Airborne Brigade. I am assigning the best infantry units we have. You are looking at two weeks to get your command straightened out and ready for combat deployment. You'll have absolute priority on supplies and equipment. Anyone fucks with you? You can shoot them. We'll sort it out later."
"Two weeks, General?" Chekov didn't' like the time frame at all. Otherwise, he couldn't have dreamed of this kind of posting since the Soviet Union fell apart.
"A nasty cold front is coming, and it will hit the region in the next forty-eight hours. Combat operations will become highly inadvisable. Besides, the FSB will be up to no good in St. Petersburg and do their best to make your job easier. They'll need time, though," Korolev explained.
"Do I have the freedom to operate as I see fit?" Chekov asked.
"Yes. Otherwise, I wouldn't have told you to shoot anyone fucking with you. We don't have time to clean up our house as we must," Korolev scowled.
"Rules of engagement?" The next question was obvious. Chekov needed to know exactly what he could break to get the job done and break what would potentially make it all a moot point.
"You will obviously not leveling city blocks in St. Petersburg with air strikes or artillery. We have a limited number of laser-guided weapons that still work, and pilots trained to use them who haven't retired yet. You can take out fortified positions with those. However, you must clear most of the city the hard way."
"A single Brigade might not be enough," Chekov pointed out.
"You will have barrier troops to encircle the city and hold ground for you, Colonel. We can't rely on them to take the city without turning it to rubble first. You have until January the tenth to bring me a workable plan."
"I will take that city or die trying, sir," Chekov saluted and left the room.