The August 17 coup electrified Western capitals..
Leaders who had planned holidays canceled them. Phones and secure lines started running hot as presidents and prime ministers paced between offices and intelligence centers, devouring every fragment of news from Moscow. Everyone watched, waiting to see whether the Red Empire that had frightened the world for six decades would finally crack.
The public joined the chorus, editorial pages and talk shows vilified the coup leaders and whitewash Gorbachev, whom they'd criticized days before.
Inside the Soviet Union, the response was chaotic. Martial law sparked massive protests across the country crowds demanding Gorbachev be returned and the emergency measures reversed.
"Is everything all right, sir?" Yor asked. She had changed into a crisp military uniform an odd request from the employer that she still didn't quite understand. Yet the sight failed to distract Andrei, who for once was genuinely nervous.
"Huh? Oh, it's nothing. Just a bit of nerves," he muttered.
"Nervous?" Yor raised a brow. In the short time she'd known him, she had never seen anything close to hesitation. To her, he was nothing but a cold calculating politician, ruthless, hypocritical, and prone to eccentric demands.
But this time, Andrei could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him.
He'd taken the most crucial step in the plan; the coup's publicity would be funneled to Yeltsin's supporters tonight through carefully chosen channels. When the jackals showed themselves at the Kremlin gates, their road forward would be a trap.
"I hope the plan goes smoothly. I'm counting on you, Comrade Vladimir," he said.
On the outskirts of Moscow, summer nights are always a quiet and peaceful scene.
The fireflies deep in the grass on the roadside cling to the branches and leaves, emitting light green light dots.
Suddenly, the ground began to vibrate slightly, the fireflies in the grass flapped their wings, and the originally dark and vast wilderness flickered with fireflies.
The roar of wheels crushing the road came from a distance, and three black jeeps sped towards the direction of Moscow.
Putin, who is sitting in the car, is not in the mood to appreciate this wonderful scene.
A few kilometers further ahead is the location where Yeltsin would be ambushed. Yeltsin's suburban villa leads to an important section of Moscow City. This section of the highway is the only section of wilderness where there will be no witnesses.
For this ambush, Putin planned this meticulously, he even asked the high level of the KGB Technical Bureau to deploy a radio jamming system in this area.
He knew this would be the moment of judgement of his career.
"So comrade Vadimir can you brief me about the situation?"
Putin glanced at the red-haired woman beside him. Red hair was unusual here, but he didn't bother asking whether she was the product of some KGB experiment.
He can't help but to regard her as a rival; nonetheless, he had no choice but to follow Andrei's orders.
" Natasha Romanoff right? I hope you have the ability to perform. So don't get in my way .
For this assassination, we have mobilized two helicopters, five tanks and armored vehicles, and a special force with more than 20 people to complete the task. I have prepared two teams dispatched from the GRU and are on standby at the KGB stronghold on Lenin Street."
"Why not use Alpha?" Natasha asked. She couldn't understand Andrei's choice. Alpha was the premier special ops unit . Why pass up the obvious option?
Kryuchkov on the side interjected, "Because the Alpha team was attacked by mobs last night and all of them were killed."
Natasha immediately recognized the meaning . Once she was part of the alpha, cold sweat began to ooze from her forehead.
How many small tricks did that lascivious guy hide behind her back?
Seeing her not knowing such critical information Putin felt good about himself.
Putin(yes that one), the future president of Russia, had just a KGB agent when Andrei suddenly promoted him four months ago, moving him from Leningrad to Moscow as a glorified office secretary.
Putin had been surprised at Andrei's direct and almost friendly approach. But he didn't question it. For him, it was nothing less than hitting the jackpot. Now he was neck-deep in all the shady business Andrei handed him.
"Now everyone focus! This section of the road has a wide view, so I have arranged machine gunners on both sides of the road. No matter which direction they get off from, they will be suppressed by powerful firepower."
Putin picked up a heavy PKM general-purpose machine gun, which fires 7.62mm The machine gun with caliber bullets.
"Considering the bulletproof performance of the presidential seat, we have also prepared a GP25 grenade launcher. If Yeltsin is unwilling to surrender, we can turn him into coke." Putin spoke.
" So everybody is ready?"
"Yes sir!!"
The four black cars stepped on the accelerator, taking advantage of the cover of night, and driving towards Moscow like roaring steel monsters.
The bodyguards sitting in the car were all armed with AKS74U, protecting Yeltsin and were alert to the movements around the road.
The car walking in the front suddenly shot out a ball of dazzling flames from the ground, lifted the steel monster weighing several tons to a height of more than three meters, and then clumsily rowed in mid-air.
After passing through an arc, the overturned corpse crashed to the ground.
The last jeep in the convoy tried to reverse, but an agent leapt up from the grass, RPG on his shoulder. In the dark night, only a dazzling tail flame could be seen flashing a distance and hit the jeep fiercely. In an instant, the whole car turned into a burning fireball.
The car in the middle wanted to pass through the grass on both sides of the road, and the ambush pulled the trigger.
The two middle cars swerved toward the roadside, trying to break through, but machine guns opened up from both flanks. Streams of fire raked the vehicles, shredding tires into black scraps. One of the cars kept moving, armor holding under the rain of 7.62 rounds.
"The bulletproof work is good. It's definitely from the west."
Natasha turned her head and asked Putin,
"Is this situation within your consideration? "
"Of course." Putin said in a calm voice,
"I believe the KGB has enough experience to deal with this situation."
Almost on cue, a thunderous crack split the night. A window shattered, spraying blood across the glass. Another shot followed . The armored glass that had resisted machine guns broke like jelly under the force of anti-materiel rifles.
"We brought heavy anti-materiel rifles for exactly this," Putin said, lowering his binoculars. The gunfire soon faded. The trap was complete.
"Come," he said coldly, brushing dust from his coat. "Let's greet our old friend Yeltsin." He started down the slope, eager to see the terror in Yeltsin's eyes.
But when the firing stopped and they opened the wreck,. Inside the bloodied bodies were simply unrecognizable.
The stench of death forced Putin to cover his nose.
After carefully searching, anticipation turned to bitter disappointment. Inside were only the broken, blood-soaked bodies of Yeltsin's guards. The presidential seat was empty. The air reeked of burned metal and death.
Putin clenched his fists. "He's not here. That bastard took another road. We've been chasing a decoy." His jaw tightened. "Damn it! I should've seen this coming."
Putin clenched his fists, it's a big miss, he has no choice but to report this bad news to Andrei,
Then he noticed someone was missing and asked,
"Hey! Where is Natasha?"