As Andrei and politburo members prepared to meet their 'comrades' coming back from Crimea Peninsula, various incidents were talking place in Moscow.
It was late afternoon, and Alexander Nikolaevich Yakovlev "the God's Comie," one of the architects of perestroika and Gorbachev's closest ally was sleeping soundly.
A sudden knock at the door woke him. Still half-dreaming, he rubbed his eyes and shuffled toward it.
"Who's there?"
"Comrade, you've had unusual water usage lately. We need to check the pipes," came the reply.
Yakovlev frowned. Water? At this hour? Muttering to himself, he unlatched the door.
On the threshold stood several young men in crisp military uniforms.
In an instant, the fog of sleep vanished. He tried to slam the door shut, but one of the men blocked it with a boot.
"Who are you? Do you know who I am?" Yakovlev spoke as if giving a order. "Get out! When General Secretary Gorbachev returns, your superiors will regret this."
The leader of the group stepped forward but didn't seem to be effected,
"Alexander Nikolaevich Yakovlev, you are under arrest for treason. Come with us."
"Who is the head of your department?" Yakovlev's legs trembled but he put on a brave front. "I… I am an adviser to the General Secretary. You cannot remove me without a warrant signed by..."
He was cut short. "We have them. Signed by President Boris, by Vice President Yanayev, and endorsed by the KGB. Will that suffice?"
The words hit him like a hammer. "Treason? Where is your evidence? Do you think this is Stalin's terror? The Soviet Union is a democracy now. I will appeal!"
Several people looked at each other and smiled, as if they had already predicted: "Right? "You were bought by the CIA when you were at Columbia University. Later, when you were in Canada, you stepped up your treasonous steps and had an affair with the famous American actor Monroe..."
"What nonsense! Monroe has been dead for years!" Yakovlev stammered, incredulous. His thoughts flickered to Beria's downfall ."
"I have made merits for the country, I have reformed for the president, I am not a traitor, I am loyal to the party and the country."
"Then why," the officer asked quietly, "did you resign from the CPSU just days ago?"
Yakovlev faltered, two days out of the Party, and already he had fallen into the abyss. His luck had run out.
The soldiers no longer listened. They dragged him like a ragdoll down the corridor and into a waiting car.
"Tell your story to the KGB," one of them said flatly. "You will get a… fair trial."
This kind of thing was staged in Moscow, Leningrad and many other places tonight, accompanied by screams and grievances.
The cries of the purged echoed beneath the glow of streetlights.
By dawn, the first rays of sunlight fell upon the suburbs. Early risers peered from their windows to see columns of tanks, engines rumbling, advancing steadily toward Moscow.
The city was waking into a new world.
August 17, 1991 , Night
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At his dacha outside Moscow, Boris Yeltsin had just returned from abroad. He sprawled across the sofa, glass in hand, savoring a rare moment of quiet.
Sixty years old, second only to Gorbachev in political weight, Yeltsin was the man both the West and Russia had pinned their hopes on. Even he admitted it privately: from champion of the people to President of Russia, he was dismantling the Red Empire piece by piece.
Two days earlier, Izvestia had published the full terms of the New Union Treaty. Exactly as he expected.
A crooked smile spread across his face. The crumbling fortress of the CPSU… falling apart on schedule. Whether at Gorbachev's hands or mine, this empire will be dust.
Raising his glass, he toasted his reflection in the window.
"Beasts of evil empire, thank me Yeltsin! for bringing you the hope of democracy and freedom."
A little bored, he was about to turn on the TV to watch the news that night, when the urgent ringing of the phone on the desk interrupted his pressing the button on the remote control.
On the other end of the phone was Colonel-General Konstantin Kobets.
He is also a loyal follower of Yeltsin. At this time, General Kobets anxiously informed Yeltsin,
"President Yeltsin, forgive the hour, but I must report at once."
Yeltsin sighed. "Can't it wait until morning? It's nearly midnight."
"No, sir. This is critical. Reliable intelligence indicates Yanayev and several top leaders are preparing a mutiny. You must reach the White House immediately. I'll hold them off as long as I can."
Yeltsin frowned. "A coup? Nonsense. Their first target will be Gorbachev, not me. Besides, a coup now would backfire. The situation favors me."
"President look at the TV!"
Yeltsin switched it on.
There 8 members of the politburo was sitting together. But only Gennady Yanayev spoke in a neutral tone,
"Good afternoon comrades. Though this is abrupt but currently general secretary Gorbachev is unwell and can't perform his duties. Thus I hearby declare the formation of the State Committee for the State of Emergency. Have a good night. Thank you for the attention. Beep... "
The screen flickered to swans happily lazing in a pond.
Yeltsin blinked then burst into laughter.
"Hah! These idiots? This is their coup?" He slapped his knee. "Oh-ho-ho! Let's see how long this farce lasts."
Another phone rang. This time it was Major Evdokimov, already inside the White House, the House of Soviets of Russia.
"Yes, Major! Stay calm I'll be there soon. Call on the people of Moscow to resist. If the Politburo wants tyranny, let the streets rise against them!"
"Also tell Andrei Kozyrev to inform what's happening to the West. I need their support after this farce."
He put down the phone and said to Kobets, "Can you mobilize the paratroopers in your hand now?"
Hearing this guarantee, Yeltsin's heart calmed down a little, and he issued the next order, "Transfer all the paratroopers you can mobilize to the White House for protection.
I am now going to the White House to call on the people of Moscow to stand up against the tyranny of the Soviets. , defend Moscow, defend Russia! I can't believe these high-level officials dare to point their guns at the people!"
"Okay, I'll make arrangements now, President Yeltsin take care."Kobets said goodbye to Yeltsin solemnly.
"You too general, It's really an honor for the Russian people to have you here. "
Yeltsin smiled comfortably, "You go ahead, I'm going to the White House now, see you then. chang"
He hung up, grabbed his coat, and strode out toward destiny. Little did he know on the opposite side the man murmured, "Goodbye... President Yeltsin."
On the other end of the line, Kobets slowly replaced the receiver. He turned toward the shadows of the room — where Andrei stood flanked by silent KGB men.
Kobets's lips trembled. "I followed your instructions. You promised… you'd spare my wife and son."
Andrei's face betrayed nothing. "Of course. Your cooperation is… appreciated. But tell me, General, do you know why your men aren't here?"
"No, I don't want to know."
Kobets shook his head in panic, the less he knew, the better for him. People who know too many secrets don't always live long.
But Andrei obviously won't give him this chance. "Actually, I'm just waiting for this day. Now, as a pawn, your mission is completed."
"Thank God." General Kobed held his chest and breathed a sigh of relief.
Just as he was about to stand up, Andrei nodded towards Yor beside him.
She raised the pistol with the silencer in his hand and aimed a bullet at Kobets's broad forehead.
There was no fire, but the bullet from the muzzle penetrated Kobets's head at a very low decibel.
General just fell silently on the wooden board of his house, the blood oozing from the bullet hole turned the yellow wooden board into an ugly dark red pool.
Andrei squatted down and closed Kebed's eyelids, and said slowly,
"Your mission is completed, and the value of use will naturally be gone, Go thank God in person."
He instructed his men to turn on all the gas stoves in Kobets's house, and after closing the doors and windows, everyone quickly exited the house.
When the gas concentration in the house reaches a certain amount, an explosion reaction occurs quickly when it encounters the lights that are on in the house.
Only a loud noise was heard. Andrei, just outside the house, turned to see a huge orange fireball rising into the sky, flames licking from the windows as the wooden building collapsed into ash.
The blast shook the ground. Yor moved without thought, stepping in front of him, shielding him from the spray of glass and heat.
A flicker of shame cut through him. Even here, his thoughts weren't clean. The body's former owner hadn't been any better.
He stepped aside, "That was unnecessary but thank you."
But she only gave a faint, almost innocent smile, as though unaware of what she had done. The others ignored it ,in their world, neither gender nor sentiment had any weight. Only loyalty and usefulness mattered.
"Let's go. There's nothing to miss. Politics always leaves its sacrifices."
Andrei lit a cigarette to look cool. These people are now his coup supporters. It can be said that as long as he succeeds, their originally bleak future will immediately become immeasurable.
Andrei let out a smoke, " It'll be a long long Night ..."