The Red Collusion Read online

The Minister was feeling elated by the show of force. He turned to his adjutant.

  “It’s amazing how everything is falling into place without incident. This is not something that’s ever been done before – I’m moving the largest armored force here that the world has ever known. You may be too young to know, but six thousand tanks took part in the great battle of Kursk in 1943, and the battle of Kursk was considered – until today – the biggest concentration of armor in history. That was true up until two hours ago. I am now moving almost thirty thousand tanks into battle. Do you understand what is happening here? It’s five times more than all the forces fighting in Kursk!”

  “Mister Minister, your name will be etched in golden letters in the books of military history, and all military academies will teach your maneuver. This is further proof of what you have always said: that it all begins and ends with planning. When planning is done with great care to the smallest details, then in the field, everything happens without incident.”

  The adjutant glanced at Marshal Budarenko, trying to assess the

  Minister’s satisfaction with the flattery he had just been served, but the Minister’s face remained without expression. A bundle of telegrams was brought into the room and the adjutant started sorting them.

  “Mister Minister, updates are beginning to arrive from our forces about their advance into the German Democratic Republic. At the moment, the northern force is the farthest west. By the way, we’ve also just received a translation of the Address to the Nation by the President of the United States.”

  “What? When did he speak? What does he have to say after trying to destroy the city of Murmansk? Did this criminal beg for forgiveness?”

  A disparaging smile spread from ear to ear on the Minister’s face. He looked through the window to the large table below him.

  “It’s too bad I can’t show him that table down there, but his soldiers will soon see this in action, or - how do they say it in English? - they will see this LIVE!”

  “Mister Minister”, the adjutant spoke again. “He actually apologized.” “What? What are you talking about? Who apologized?”

  “The American President Butler. He even offered monetary compensation to the families of the seamen who died on our battleship.”

  The Minister of Defense savagely snatched the paper from his adjutant’s hand. He read the contents over and over, unable to believe his eyes.

  How can that be? He thought to himself. Now he wasn’t elated, but rather concerned. His head was spinning with thoughts and pictures. Maybe they’re deterred by the vast forces that we have concentrated against them, he thought, and in order to appease us, they’re willing to go along with our story and even to assume responsibility for the missile that blew up; anything to prevent our advance. Yes, that’s probably the logical explanation for what the President said, the Minister reasoned to himself with satisfaction. I seem to have managed to bring these arrogant Americans down to their knees, very low to their knees.

  A young officer entered the room and put a sealed envelope into the hands of the Minister’s adjutant.

  “This is addressed to you personally, Mister Minister”, the adjutant said, handing the envelope to the Minister.

  Marshal Budarenko took the envelope, broke the seal, and read the content of the message, which was marked in large letters: TOP SECRET – SENSITIVE – ADDRESSEE ONLY. The Minister finished reading the dispatch and suddenly seemed like a changed man. He looked very pale, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and his heart beat rapidly. He tried with all his might to calm himself, as if he were on the battlefield. He read the dispatch again, and this time the list of the other recipients at the foot of the letter caught his eye. First on the list was the Party General Secretary. Budarenko clamped his hand on the shoulder of his adjutant, who looked at him in surprise.

  “Run out now and halt the distribution of this message. It is false, it is deceit. No one should get it, not even the Party General Secretary. Do you understand? Now run.”

  The adjutant rushed out. The Minister lifted the receiver of the red telephone near him.

  “Get me Gregory Livkin from Special Forces Base 8749 – at once!”

  A few seconds passed, then Gregory’s voice came on the line.

  “Mister Minister, Gregory Livkin speaking. How can I be of service, Sir?”

  “I want to speak with Colonel Yevgeni at once.” “Yes, Minister, immediately.”

  Yevgeni came on the line.

  “Mister Minister. This is Colonel Yevgeni speaking.”

  “Listen up, Colonel. Apparently your idea with the cruise missile and its interception was so good that even the Americans bought it.”

  “Yes, Minister. Actually, the idea was Brigadier General Dimitri’s. I only supported it. But excuse me, Minister, I don’t understand what you meant about the Americans.”

  “The American President spoke a few minutes ago to his nation, but he was really speaking to us. He apologized for launching the missile with the bomb and explained that it was done in error, and he even offered to pay compensation to the families of our dead seamen. How do you explain this, Colonel?”

  There was a silence on the other end, perhaps a moment too long. The

  Minister of Defense was now impatient and angry.

  “Why are you keeping your mouth shut, Colonel? Did you swallow your tongue?”

  “Sorry, Minister. I was trying to think of the reasons. In my opinion, they’re feeling pressured by the amount of armor that you mobilized against them. They know that they don’t have the conventional capacity to stop such numbers of tanks. Therefore, in an attempt to stop them, they are willing to accept any humiliation, even to assume responsibility for the event in the North Sea. That is my opinion, Mister Minister.”

  “Colonel Yevgeni, this is also what I thought until five minutes ago.”

  “And what happened five minutes ago, Mister Minister, that changed your mind?”

  “I got a telegram from our Intelligence people who intercepted a radio directive in which the American President, as Commander in Chief of the Armed forces, instructs his military to launch tactical nuclear missiles if our tanks move across the Twelfth longitudinal, which is more or less the Elbe River in the German Democratic Republic. What do you have to say to that, Colonel?”

  “Mister Minister, may I ask you first how our Intelligence analysts interpret this information?”

  “Listen well, Colonel. I don’t care what they think. I want to hear a neutral assessment from you, without your being influenced by what they say. There was a reason I selected you for the team, and you’ve even proved to me here and there in the past few days that I wasn’t wrong.”

  “Thank you, Mister Minister”, Yevgeni replied, hiding a shy smile. “I am going over several possibilities.”

  “Well, Colonel, do it quickly. I don’t have time to waste. Speak.” “Mister Minister, I believe that what you thought until five minutes ago was correct, and is still valid. In my opinion, the Americans can read their situation very well and they’ve decided to gamble, hoping it might cause you some confusion. In my estimation, they won’t use tactical nuclear weapons, certainly not in the first stage of the war. I think that the President’s order to the missile batteries is fictitious and deceitful and they wanted us to intercept it, have second thoughts, and stop the tanks.”

  “I think so too”, replied Marshal Budarenko. “Good, Colonel, thank you.”

  Colonel Yevgeni froze. He had never heard the word “thank you” leave the lips of this tough, highly decorated Marshal, whose looming, bullying presence had intimidated many good people. In a split-second decision, Yevgeni addressed the Minister again.

  “Mister Minister, with your permission, I’d like to tell you something else, and I apologize in advance if I touch a sensitive point. Do I have your permission to speak?”

 
“Yes, speak, but do it quickly.”

  “I don’t think it’s likely, but we must also consider another possibility. It may be that the Americans are aware of your exact plans and that the Party General Secretary is not privy to the matter. I mean to say that even General Secretary Yermolov is certain that the Americans launched the missile, and now they are apologizing, but also threatening that if our tanks continue to move westward, they will respond with nuclear force. Maybe they hope that this will convince the Secretary to halt the tanks. The more problematic point is that if they really know what the General Secretary does or doesn’t know, then someone should find out how they are doing it. Maybe they have someone here inside the Kremlin, for example?”

  Colonel Yevgeni paused, warily awaiting the Minister’s reaction. I may have gone too far, he thought to himself, and now the Minister will pour his wrath upon my head.

  The Minister’s voice was heard again, this time loud and clear, sure and decisive.

  “Nonsense. I don’t agree with you, Colonel.”

  Yevgeni heard the Minister’s receiver slamming down then the line went dead, and he replaced his own receiver on the cradle. Only then did Yevgeni notice, for the first time, that Gregory had been standing behind him the whole time, apparently listening with great interest to his conversation with the Minister of Defense.

  Back in the Minister’s office in the war room, the adjutant walked in.

  “Mister Minister, I’ve stopped the distribution of the dispatch. No one else has received it besides you.”

  “Well done”, the Minister replied curtly.

  The red telephone rang, and the adjutant picked up the receiver. Svetlana was on the line.

  “The General Secretary of the Party Vladimir Petrovich Yermolov wishes the Minister to come to him immediately for a briefing.”

  Before the adjutant even had time to hang up, the Minister addressed him.

  “Are you sure that this false and fictitious dispatch has not reached anyone?”

  “Yes, Mister Minister, one hundred percent. Minister, the Party General

  Secretary requests that you come to him urgently for a briefing.”

  The Minister of Defense nodded, got to his feet and left the room, his adjutant following, trying to keep up with his pace.

  Party general secretary Vladimir Petrovich Yermolov turned to the head of the KGB, seated across from him.

  “I understand that our Minister of Defense is incredibly busy now.”

  “Yes, Mister Secretary. He is mostly in Khamovniki, in General Staff Headquarters. Do you remember what I told you of the team that he put together and literally kept locked in the Intelligence Special Forces secret base?”

  “Yes, I remember. They were later flown to Murmansk.”

  “Exactly. He hasn’t been there for the past two days, but he still continues to speak to the team by phone. All this activity is still not clear to us, but very soon, I believe, we’ll know precisely what they are doing there. By the way, that Colonel Nazarbayev, the Kazakh, is the only one of the secret gang who stayed in Murmansk. It turns out that he was aboard that trawler that was sunk in the North Sea.”

  “What?” the General Secretary replied, puzzled. “He was on the boat that was sunk by the British and the Americans?”

  “Yes, Mister Secretary. But actually, it wasn’t them that sank it …” “What are you saying? Are you trying to confuse me? I still can’t understand what they’re plotting behind my back. So tell me again, this

  Kazakh of Budarenko’s, was he or wasn’t he on the ship?”

  “Sir, we have indications that the trawler was probably sunk by our own submarine.”

  “I don’t believe this. Why would we do something like this?”

  “I still don’t have an answer to give you, but there are too many question marks accumulating on that subject: the Minister’s secret team, their stay in Murmansk, the presence of the Kazakh Colonel on the trawler that wasn’t very far from where the American missile exploded, and now this thing with the submarine. Maybe someone here, on our side, wanted to silence the Kazakh Colonel for good. Now these are more than just suspicions, and we are trying very hard to connect all of the pieces in the puzzle. I promise you, Mister Secretary, that this will be done as quickly as possible.”

  The Party Secretary removed his glasses and placed them on the desk. He massaged his face with his fingers for some time, then finally spoke.

  “My friend Mister KGB Director, I don’t like, in fact I really dislike, what is happening around me, or to be more precise, behind my back. This is no longer a hunch, as I already know that I’m not being told the whole truth. I don’t know who I can trust and who I should suspect, and all this just a few hours before we start a war with NATO and the Americans. This is an insane situation, truly insane. I hope that you understand that I need you closer to me than ever. Do you understand this?”

  “Yes, Mister Secretary. Not only do I understand, but I’m working around the clock to protect you, and also to get you the maximum amount of information. As I told you before, we are very near to deciphering all those unknowns.”

  The Minister did not move his gaze from the Head of the KGB.

  “I trust you. Don’t disappoint me.”

  The Head of the KGB could have sworn that he could almost detect a plea in the eyes of the almighty General Secretary when he said “Don’t disappoint me”.

  Svetlana entered the room and the Secretary looked at her in anticipation.

  “Gospodin Vladimir Petrovich Yermolov, the Minister of Defense will arrive in three to four minutes.”

  The General Secretary turned to the Head of the KGB.

  “You’d better go before he comes in, but stay close. I have a feeling that I’ll be calling you back here today.”

  The two shook hands, and the Head of the KGB hurried out of the room.

  The Minister of Defense, Marshal Budarenko, sat himself in the chair that the Head of the KGB had vacated just a few minutes before. The Party General Secretary could not miss the Minister’s high spirits.

  “How are our forces advancing in the field? Do we already have contact with the insurgents there?”

  “Mister Secretary, we are even ahead of schedule. I’m pushing them to advance as fast as possible so that the enemy won’t have time to mobilize. There’s no civil resistance, and certainly no military resistance. Our main forces are not entering the cities of the German Democratic Republic at all. All of them are advancing to the real thing, leaving only small forces near several cities.”

  “So I understand that you are very content”, the General Secretary said, not revealing any emotion.

  “This is true, Mister Secretary.”

  The General Secretary did not move his gaze from the minister’s face. “Especially since this is exactly what you’ve been planning all along, and you’re not really interested in the civil disobedience and the

  German Democratic Republic, are you?”

  The Minister’s smile froze in an instant, and he was as tightly wound as a spring.

  “Mister Secretary, that is not true. The difference between us is that I am a military man and I know that one should always prepare for any eventuality. What did you want? Did you want me to enter the Democratic Republic with limited forces? Then, if the Americans reacted by threatening us with military action and issuing us with an ultimatum, what would you have told them? Comrades, please wait a minute. I’m not ready. Give me few days to move several more divisions from the rear. That’s how a civilian thinks, not a responsible military man.”

  By now the General Secretary’s eyes were burning with rage.

  “Meanwhile, the person running this country is the civilian before you, not the military man before me.”

  The Minister of Defense chose not to reply. The General Secretary, who was incandescent with
anger, removed his glasses and cleaned the lenses with a cloth handkerchief in slow, circular motions, as though trying to control his emotions.

  “And what do you have to say about the American President’s speech today?” the General Secretary asked the Minister.

  “Mister Secretary, I don’t buy this garbage. I ran the subject by the Commander of our Air Force and all our intelligence agencies. He’s trying to pull the wool over our eyes. I told you at our last meeting that no pilot can arm a nuclear warhead on a cruise missile by himself, even if he really wants to. This can only be done with special approval from supreme headquarters that sends a very specific code, just as we do. Regarding the coincidence, etc., it’s only a one in a billion chance. In my opinion, the Americans are panicking in the face of our military might which is advancing toward their lines of defense as we speak, and this is all they have left to do. Namely, to implore, to ask for forgiveness, and to do with the Americans know best – offer us money, compensation. I hope you don’t accept their apology.”

  The General Secretary ignored the Minister’s suggestion and continued to rain questions on him.

  “So you say that we’re ahead of schedule. When are we going to cross the border between the Germanys and start the fighting?”

  “Within 24 hours, maybe even less.”

  “If so, I would like to meet with our soldiers before that. When will that be possible?”

  “I’m flying there tomorrow morning. I’ll be happy if you come with me.”

  “All right. Keep me updated on any development until then, even if you think that it’s negligible. Am I sufficiently clear?”

  “You are clear, Mister Secretary. We’ll meet tomorrow morning.”

  United States President James Butler opened the third meeting of the day in the Situation Room, with his senior national security staff, advisors, and the Secretary of State. Two and a half hours had passed since he had faced the nation and reported the near- catastrophe that had allegedly caused the mistaken launch of a cruise missile armed with a nuclear warhead. The President’s creatively ambitious plan seemed to have failed miserably. Worse, reports of the Soviet tank columns advancing more rapidly than expected added to the tense atmosphere, with a feeling that time was running out. There was a pall of despair over the Situation Room. It seemed obvious to everyone that war would break out within hours.