A not-so-splendid cup toss kicked off a bloody scene.
The GRU soldiers waiting outside shattered the windows and stormed in, glass raining down around them. Silenced submachine guns snapped up, and in an instant, the muzzles flared.
RAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT!
Those still blinking in confusion collapsed before they could even scream. Security guards fared no better, cut down as they reached for their holsters.
Wine bottles burst on the tables, red liquid spilling across the floor like fresh blood. Silk flowers, shredded by bullets, drifted through the air. Candlelight flickered against the chaos, and the iron stink of death mixed with the strains of the Brandenburg Concerto still playing overhead.
The shattered glass, the pounding gunfire, the cries of the dying , it all merged into a grotesque symphony.
And Andrei, who planned the murder, stood quietly at the scene, watching these poor people who chose to be enemies of the Soviets fall one by one like a musical.
He had long known Alpha unit were unreliable. Too many had already bent the knee to Yeltsin.
That was why he had went to the GRU, gathering outcasts loyal only to him.
For this huge conspiracy, he only planned it just under four months.
The symphony struck the last note, and no one could stand up again.
"Since you are unwilling to be used by me, then go to see The Tsar. Motherland will never forgive traitors, at lest I won't ."
Before him, one of the last survivors reached out, eyes pleading, body riddled with holes.
Andrei just looked at him with indifferent eyes, and waited until his pupils were dissipated and he died before averting his eye.
"Andrei, what are you doing!" Kryuchkov, Vice-Chairman of the KGB, shouted, his voice breaking into panic. In seconds, the elite security officers under his command had been turned into corpses. But the culprits calm smile chilled him more than the gunfire.
Around him, senior Politburo members cried out in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
"It's nothing," Andrei said softly, "just their redemption."
Andrei asked the GRU soldiers to put down their guns aimed at Kryuchkov, and then ordered the soldiers to examine each body to confirm that everyone was killed.
A female GRU soldier in mask came forward. She said,
"Report: all targets eliminated. Scene secured."
Andrei nodded. "Good. Now follow me, Yor."
" Respected comrades, please take your sit."
Andrei looked towards the 4 politburo members, despite the smell of blood in the air, Andrei sat down in a chair as if attending a meeting.
" You only need to manage your affairs well; the rest is not your concern. The script will play out exactly as written. The New Alliance Treaty will not be signed. The great Motherland will not be dissolved. All that is required is that the leadership does its parts. Otherwise…" He let the words hang in the silence, "…it will be us who are sent to the gallows."
The Politburo members exchanged uneasy glances. They realized what Andrei had told them was only the tip of a much larger plan. Their palms grew damp with sweat as they studied the young man before them.
They could hardly digest the fact that a once-insignificant "rice bug" was now pulling the strings of the highest leaders of the Soviet Union. Yet the truth was plain, they had no choice but to follow his script as they sat down one by one.
(Hmph. Just as I thought. They're nothing but cowards.)
Coup d'état is a cruel art. Until the last moment, no one dares to say that he is the one who has the last laugh. Success often belongs not to the most capable but to the luckiest , the moment when even a serf can seize a crown.
Andrei knew this night was only the first step.
-------------------------------------------
Andrei was originally a bastard who no one would remember his name at all.
But just for being a son of a powerful politburo member, he was given a role of high authority.
And not just any seat.
Despite having no military experience whatsoever, at the age of twenty he had been appointed Deputy Commander of the Moscow Military District. The youngest deputy commander in the entire Soviet Union. A bright, shining monument to nepotism.
After all his father won the position for his son in a drunken gambling match against another politburo member.
"The Red Army really is a shadow of its former self…" Andrei murmured bitterly. Still, he offered a silent thanks to his late father.
If someone looks back at what Andrei has done in last four months, they will be amazed to find that he actually surrounded himself with the top leaders of the CPSU.
The person who never visited his soldiers spend nearly all his time with them.
That's nearly unheard of someone like him or anyone with a similar rank.
Now, the die was cast.
"I have crossed the Rubicon," Andrei whispered to himself. "It's all… or nothing."
____________________________
Andrei walked up to Kryuchkov, grabbed his sleeve, and spoke coldly:
"Listen, Comrade Kryuchkov. This is the most crucial moment of the coup. You will hold yourself together and I will not let you fall."
He meant it. He needed the conservatives on his side . Whether they liked him or not. Gorbachev's reforms had already enraged the party establishment, and many in the leadership talked about removing him. But talk is cheap; most never found the nerve to go through with a real takeover. They hesitated rather than fire on their own people.
In hindsight, that hesitation doomed the USSR. The 1991 protests overwhelmed the controls of a nuclear-armed state and led to its collapse.
"A bloodless revolution is just as ridiculous as a utopia.
Interests replace interests and will inevitably sacrifice some people.
Do you understand? Killing is not the best method, but it is the most The quickest and most effective means."
He stepped back so his voice carried to the whole room. " The Red Soviet needs you. We have nowhere to retreat, nowhere to compromise. Behind us is Moscow, the Red Square, the Kremlin, and our last belief!"
Andrei's gaze swept over the others. The time for hesitation had ended. A choice had to be made.
Kryuchkov shrank back, almost submissive. He clearly wasn't ready for a real coup.
Only one of them Yanayev , the vice president, stood up. "I will join you, Comrade. Our ultimate objective is to stop the signing of the New Alliance Treaty."
Yanayev, looked more determined, like he already knew what he wanted.
(So you really were in this after all)
Back in May, Gorbachev had agreed with the republic leaders to draft a New Union Treaty. On paper, it was supposed to preserve the USSR. In reality, it gutted the old system, turning the once-mighty Soviet Union into a loose confederation of squabbling states.
His reforms had emboldened separatists, not contained them. Even the March referendum where more than seventy percent voted to keep the Union together was ignored.
It was this betrayal that drove the hardliners to act. They had thrown Yanayev to the front, naming him leader of their "Emergency Committee." Later, they would claim he was pressured, even kidnapped, to excuse their failure. But the record was clear enough, Yanayev hadn't backed down. Not even when Yeltsin climbed atop a tank, rallying the crowds and turning the coup into a counterrevolution.
If history had a hall of fools, Andrei mused bitterly, Gorbachev would sit on the throne forever. Even a pig in his chair could have done less damage.
"The New Alliance Treaty will not be signed," Andrei assured them, patting his chest. "Our methods may differ, but the goal is the same."
Kryuchkov's face stiffened. Something in Andrei's tone didn't sit right. He forced out the words:
"What do you mean? Aren't we acting together?"
Andrei gave a small smile.
"You're thinking too much, Comrade. This coup, as you've imagined it, won't fix anything."
He paused, letting the silence stretch before dropping the bomb.
"Communism is dead. It's time we acknowledged it."
The older men in the room glared at him. These were men who had built their entire lives and careers on the Soviet system, and the idea of burying it was unbearable. But with armed guards watching, their outrage meant nothing.
Though some of the hardened special forces shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. But Andrei knew he couldn't back down now.
"Communism has failed. It cannot hold the nation together. And what Yeltsin is doing will tear the Soviet Union apart." His voice thundered. "So I ask you, where does your loyalty lie? To a dying ideology? Or to the Motherland itself?"
"For the Soviet !!!"
The shout was unanimous. Even bystanders joined in, while the Politburo members joined in after a uneasy silence, swept along by the momentum.
Andrei nodded. "Good. That's enough for now. You'll need to stay in this room. "
"Protection?" Valentin Pavlov muttered bitterly. "Sounds more like house arrest."
Andrei shook his head. "Protection," he repeated firmly. "The enemies of the Soviet won't touch you while I'm here. Soon this will all be over."
Then he turned to Yanayev.
"But you, Comrade Yanayev, I have something different in mind for you."