Slow Collapse 4: Conclusions, page 7
To the surprise of the team, waiting for them in the barn was Irina Virganskaya. The gorgeous, blond daughter of Mikhail Gorbachev.
“What the actual fuck was that?" Nathan blurted out as a couple of resistance soldiers handed out bottles of water.
“That was the Belarusian National Army," Irina answered, in perfect English. "They were on to you before you even entered European airspace. You were lucky to make it this far."
“How?" Andy asked the question that they were all thinking.
“The spy in your White House," Irina coolly answered. "The wife of Vice President Ames. She knew a lot more than you realized."
As the stunned SEAL team processed the information that a spy had made it so far up in the chain of command, Irina Virganskaya, the enigmatic daughter of Mikhail Gorbachev, sat beside them quietly, an air of authority emanating from her. In the face of unimaginable odds, she and her team had orchestrated their rescue with precision, showcasing an unexpected and formidable skill set. It was clear that Irina commanded the respect of the resistance fighters, but the origins of her influence remained shrouded in mystery.
Irina's eyes, cold as ice, met Nathan's curious gaze. At the silent question she saw reflected in his eyes, she began to explain.
"The resistance began with a small group of like-minded individuals who shared a common goal. To take down the corrupt federal government that had plagued Russia for years. We started as a mere fraction, a whisper of dissent, but grew bolder over time."
Her voice, steady and resolute, filled the air. "Viper, the man you saw earlier, was one of the first to join me. He's become indispensable, a ghost in the machine, able to pull strings and bend the government to his will."
She paused, her eyes glinting dangerously. "We have agents everywhere, including within the army and police forces. The resistance has become a well-oiled machine and we are growing in power every day. With your help, we will soon prevail.”
On that note, Irina stood and motioned for the team to grab their gear and transfer to the plain, black cars driven by resistance fighters. As the vehicles sped into the night, the mystery of Irina’s abilities and the extent of the resistance's power remained an intriguing puzzle, one the team was determined to unravel. Little did they know, their journey was only just beginning, and the true test of their mettle awaited them in the heart of Moscow.
“What can we expect?" Andy asked, wondering just what the hell his government had gotten him into.
"Hell on earth," Irina informed them solemnly.
She began to tell a tale of the atrocities wrought on her people by her own government. Indiscriminate torture, rampant crime, and starvation had swollen the numbers of the resistance. The citizens were banding together and their efforts alongside the resistance were starting to have an effect. Things were starting to reach a boiling point and the elimination of the Federov regime would be the catalyst that tipped it over.
"We only need your skills now to finish the job," she said. "You will be our primary weapon to take out Federov. We will help you get to Moscow, where you will infiltrate the Kremlin, and remove Federov from power, by any means necessary."
“We knew that part," Nathan told her. "What about the rest of our mission?”
"There will be no divisive tactics used against my own people," Irina stated. "Those tactics used against you were, and are, an abomination. I will not have my own people fighting against each other."
"And our people are to be left to kill each other off? While Mother Russia becomes whole again?" Nathan snarled back.
“While those actions are reprehensible, I cannot be held responsible for them," she cooly replied. "I can give you every guarantee that Russia, once in the hands of good leadership, will do everything she can to help America regain what she has lost."
"How exactly will you do that?" Nathan barked.
"By taking responsibility for what Russia has done," Irina said. "What Federov has done, not only to America but to the world, was foolish and irresponsible. All in a quest to satisfy his own greed. Russia will accept any sanctions the world imposes, within reason. I cannot allow the people of Russia to suffer under the weight of her leaders, now or in the future, but she will acquiesce to the will of the world."
"How the hell can you guarantee that?” Andy asked her.
"Because I plan to take control after Federov has been removed from power," she said, dropping another bombshell on them. "I will be coming with you to Moscow, and I will be part of the mission to kill President Federov."
The six SEALS were shocked by what they were hearing. To her credit, Irina did not gloat over their confusion but waited patiently while they wrapped their brains around the situation they found themselves in. An American SEAL team, in full combat gear, had been saved by a resistance force outside Minsk. Was now being driven to Moscow by that group. All at the behest of the daughter of Mikhail Gorbachev, who would take the helm of a soon-to-be united Russia.
So much had happened in such a short amount of time, that they were stunned. For a moment they doubted the sanity of their orders and thought maybe they should attempt to contact the President to validate what they were hearing. They knew that having a local, especially one as highly connected as Irina would definitely be beneficial to the success of their mission.
As Irina finished her passionate decree, the team glanced at each other. They had worked together long enough that they could pretty much read each other’s minds.
"She's not going to make it to the Kremlin," Nathan whispered to Andy.
"If what she said is true, then for the sake of America and the rest of the world, we’d better make sure she does," Andy whispered back. "Once we get there, though, anything can happen. Be on the lookout for anything, big or small."
"Right," Nathan agreed.
Shortly afterward, the convoy of vehicles came to a brief stop outside of a massive, rundown warehouse, in what appeared to be an abandoned industrial complex situated on the edge of Minsk. Time had done the building no favors. Rust streaked the sides, and the roof was worn and patched in numerous places. The few visible windows had cracked and broken panes, faded plywood backing them in an attempt to keep the weather out. While the team was observing the building, a large set of rolling doors were shoved open and the vehicles quickly drove into the building and parked to one side.
It was the perfect setting for the resistance as few people voluntarily ventured into the decrepit-looking area other than a few homeless people or shady characters who also didn’t want attention drawn to themselves.
As the team exited the vehicles, looking around at the cavernous warehouse, Nathan asked Irina about the number of resistance fighters she had at her command.
"Russia is vast, no?" Irina responded.
"So are our forces," Andy told her.
"Perhaps in number," she responded vaguely.
Following Irina and her crew further into the building, Andy and his team could see that the interior had been significantly improved upon compared to what one expected when looking at the outside. Although still rustic, there were areas sectioned off for sleeping quarters, as evidenced by the cots they could see through a couple of opened doorways. An industrial kitchen area had been set up that looked like it could feed a hundred or more people at one time. Most importantly, there was a large training area surrounded by arms lockers. This is where they found most of the resistance members gathered.
When Irina entered the room, every member snapped to attention. She returned the favor by crisply saluting before addressing the gathering.
"At long last, we are close to achieving our goal. For the sake of security, the names of our guests will not be spoken, but make them welcome and know that they have come to help ensure the success of our toughest mission to date. After a brief period of rest, we will be moving on to our final destination. Please help ready the vehicles and equipment. Dismissed!”
As the gathering disbanded, Irina walked over to a big screen that took up an entire wall. The sound was low, but a news story was airing.
"Is this from Moscow?" Nathan asked her.
"Yes," Irina answered. "It was broadcast earlier today."
The focus of the story appeared to be on the success of food distribution around the city. Small trucks were shown entering a large building where they were offloaded to a receiving line for sorting. Nearby tables had dozens of butchers working on what appeared to be meat of all types. According to Irina, a sign above the building identified it as a food distribution center.
She proceeded to interpret for the team as the storyline progressed. The reporter explained that all the food prepared in the larger distribution center would then be taken to several food banks around Moscow. The footage then switched to what was supposedly one of the food banks. It showed the trucks arriving and offloading the prepackaged goods, while out front, people of all ages were queued up waiting for the food. It would be given away free of charge, the reporter explained as part of his narrative.
Irina turned away in disgust. Her body tense with anger. She looked at the SEAL team and told them the real story.
“That so-called food distribution center was Federov’s personal kitchen. The food is going only to those loyal to him. Did you see how clean and well-dressed the people in line were? They didn’t bother to show you where that ‘food bank’ was actually located. I can tell you it definitely wasn’t in any of the communities who need it. The people in those areas are ragged, filthy, and starving!”
As the TV station started to recap the story, Andy tried to focus Irina’s attention back on the upcoming mission.
"If you show us our next meeting point, we can head out now.”
"It is not that easy," Irina replied. "We operate in cells of three or fewer, no matter how many are part of the resistance in the area. This helps keep the organization as a whole safe, and prevents the larger group from being discovered if someone were to betray us."
"Makes sense," Nathan said. "Don’t keep all your eggs in one basket."
"Won't that complicate a pickup in Moscow?" Zach asked.
"No," Irina replied. “Since I will be going with you, and I am one of the few who is privileged to know all of the cells and how to contact them. It will just take a little while to make the arrangements.”
"I'm all for an insider," Zach jumped in. "But how is having you in there going to help the op any?”
"Other than the fact that I know my way around Moscow and know the inner workings of the Kremlin?" Irina stated rather matter-of-factly. "There is a faction inside the Kremlin that would like to have me, as well as my plans and visions for Russia, take over the leadership of the country. Most who are in the Kremlin hate this regime, but have had no choice but to join the party, so to speak.”
"The public doesn't want more war," she continued. "I have the opportunity to turn Moscow into a bastion of American/Russian harmony."
"Pretty tall order," Andy said. "Lot can go wrong."
"Only if you think about it," she told him.
"Well," Andy said. "Let's stop thinking and start doing."
CHAPTER TEN
NEW YORK CITY
NEW YORK
The streets of New York City were filled with chaos and destruction as Soviet troops marched in with their tanks rolling down the once bustling avenues. The sound of gunfire and explosions echoed through the skyscrapers, sending civilians running for cover.
As the Soviet troops advanced, the US military stood their ground, determined to defend their city. They were outnumbered and outgunned, but they refused to back down. The citizens of New York City had also taken up arms, joining the fight alongside the military.
Amid the chaos, a young woman named Sarah crouched on a rooftop, armed with a sniper rifle. She scanned the streets below, looking for any sign of the enemy. She had grown up in New York City, and the thought of it falling to the Soviets filled her with a deep sense of dread.
Suddenly, she spotted a group of Soviet soldiers making their way towards some civilians hiding behind a barricade. Without hesitation, she took aim and fired, taking out the soldiers one by one. The civilians cheered and quickly retreated to a safer position. Their cheers gave her encouragement, and she knew she had to keep fighting.
Meanwhile, on the ground, a group of US soldiers, led by Captain Jameson, were engaged in a fierce firefight with the Soviets. They were heavily outnumbered, but they fought with everything they had. Jameson's team had trained for this moment, and they were determined to protect their city at all costs.
"Keep pushing them back!" Jameson yelled to his team as they exchanged gunfire with the Soviets.
"We're running low on ammo, sir!" one of the soldiers shouted.
As the battle for New York City raged on around her, Sarah continued to pick off enemy soldiers from her perch atop the building. With each shot, she imagined she was avenging the fallen and protecting the innocent civilians below. Her aim was true, and her actions inspired those around her.
On the crowded streets, Captain Jameson and his squad found themselves engaged in grueling hand-to-hand combat. The enemy's numbers seemed endless, but the Americans fought with determination.
Amid the chaos, a strange occurrence unfolded. A mysterious fog descended upon the battlefield, shrouding the combatants. The thick haze seemed to confuse the Soviets, momentarily disrupting their advance, and giving the US soldiers a crucial advantage.
Suddenly, in the sky above, a flight of American A-10 Warthogs appeared, their arrival signaling a potential turning point in the battle. The fighters unleashed a barrage of missiles, targeting the Soviet tanks and troops with precise strikes. The war zone was enveloped in a cloud of smoke and debris, through which the determined shouts of soldiers could be heard. The battle for New York City raged on, with the American defenders holding their ground against all odds.
Jameson looked around and spotted a group of civilians trying to make their way to safety. Without hesitation, he and his team ran towards them, providing cover fire and helping them to safety.
"Thank you!" one of the civilians said, tears in their eyes.
"We have to keep moving," Jameson shouted to his men, "There are more civilians who need our help."
As they made their way through the streets, they encountered more and more civilians who had joined the fight. They were determined to defend their city and their freedom.
As the battle raged, two soldiers, Private Jenkins, and Private Williams, found themselves separated from Captain Jameson's team. They had been helping a group of survivors flee the Soviet advance and had become disoriented in the chaos.
Lost in the sea of gunfire and smoke, Jenkins and Williams sought cover behind a damaged vehicle. They witnessed a Soviet tank roll towards them, its crew seemingly unaffected by the chaos around them. With little time to spare, the two soldiers sprang into action. Jenkins provided cover fire, while Williams readied a rocket launcher. In a matter of seconds, Wiliams fired upon the tank, and together the two men watched as it exploded in a ball of fire. The tank's crew, momentarily stunned, never saw the second rocket that tore through their vehicle, ending their advance.
The unexpected explosion sent both soldiers tumbling to the ground, but they picked themselves up and dusted off the debris. Around them, the battle continued, and the sounds of conflict grew more intense as the Americans pushed back the Soviet advance.
Jenkins and Williams knew they needed to rejoin their unit, and they continued moving forward, helping those who were injured and guiding civilians to safety, determined to play their part in the defense of New York. Their actions, though small, were significant in the larger fight for the city's freedom.
The battle continued for hours, with both sides taking heavy casualties. But in the end, it was the determination and resilience of the citizens of New York City that turned the tide. The Soviet troops were forced to retreat, and the US military and civilians stood victorious.
As the smoke cleared and the sun began to rise, Sarah and Jameson stood side by side, surveying the damage. They knew this was not the end of the war, but for now, they had defended their city and protected the lives of their fellow citizens. And that was a victory worth fighting for.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN
COLORADO
President Masters sat in front of the array of screens and sighed. They showed him the same thing, Soviet troops on American soil, advancing rapidly. Sure, there was hope sprinkled throughout the land, like in Chicago, where average citizens had taken up arms and beaten back a Soviet assault on the city.
Or in Maine, where the citizens had joined with whatever military was left and created a militia, of sorts. All across the country, there were signs that America was fighting back, but the Soviet numbers were just too great. The earlier attacks inside the country had left the majority of people stunned, unable to think or move.
President Masters leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screens that displayed the dire situation unfolding across the nation. Soviet troops marched across American soil, their numbers seemingly endless. But amidst the grim reality, a glimmer of hope had also been ignited in Cleveland.
A rebellion had erupted. A fierce uprising that caught the Soviets off guard. The rebels dealt a devastating blow, striking fear into the hearts of the occupiers. The reports flooding in described a city transformed into a battlefield, with ordinary citizens taking up arms and fighting alongside the remnants of the US military.
The Soviets also suffered a major setback in Cleveland, their forces routed and scattered. This spark of resistance ignited a flame of determination within Masters. Could this be the turning point, he wondered, the beginning of a renewed American willingness to fight? News of the Cleveland rebellion spread like wildfire across the country, inspiring others to rise up and fight. Masters could almost feel the tide turning, the wind blowing in favor of the embattled Americans. But the road ahead remained uncertain, as the Soviet juggernaut maintained its iron grip.
