August 18, 1991
More than ten kilometers from central Moscow, a column of T-72s rolled in orderly ranks along the highway. These steel blades from the Taman Division were heading for the city, preparing to enforce martial law.
They would reach the center by four in the morning , just in time for the emergency committee's broadcast, which could decide the fate of civil war.
Andrei sat on the cold roof of tank number 100. The night wind tugged at his hair. He hadn't chosen the turret for show; riding on the tank was a deliberate display of resolve. If you wanted to command fear, you had to look like you weren't afraid.
In history, Yeltsin stood on this tank and delivered that provocative speech, which eventually led to the vacillating Moscow garrison completely throwing itself into the embrace of the liberal camp.
At this time, Andrei's mood is not much easier than when he assassinated Yeltsin, because what he will face next is the people of Moscow.
He knew here is a certain gap between ideals and reality. Without iron and blood, it is difficult to rule this vast red empire.
An imperial executioner, he thought, letting the label settle. People would never understand his work. They would call him tyrant, equate him with monsters.
He will be labeled as a tyrant, and those intellectuals who have lost their country will compare him to Hitler.
Maybe historians decades hence would argue his case but he would not be there to hear the verdict.
The tank commander clambered up and peered down.
"Your Excellency, the Vice President, we are almost there. The center of Moscow is ahead."
Beside him was Yanayev, the new 'official' genaral secratary of the Soviet union.
Yanayev nodded to him, then turned his head to Andrei,
"Will it be alright?"
Andrei looked out over the street, a river of protesters already gathering in the faint light. He answered firmly , "Someone must wake the Soviet with iron and blood. Then let that someone be me." He tightened his grip on the hatch. "I'll steer this dilapidated ship."
When Muscovites woke that morning and turned on their televisions, they were startled to find the same scene playing on every channel: the ballet Swan Lake.
The music repeated endlessly, the graceful dancers looping across the screen. Some thought the television stations had suffered a technical fault. Others, those more attuned to the undercurrents of Soviet media suspected that something had shifted at the highest levels of government.
Had they switched on half an hour earlier, they would have caught the real news.
President Gorbachev was "unable to fulfill his duties due to health reasons."
Under Article 127 of the Constitution, Yanayev was assuming the presidency. A six-month state of emergency had been declared in select regions. The Soviet State Emergency Committee was now in command.
Yanayev and Andrei rode with the Taman Division's tanks, pushing toward the White House.
At the Kremlin, Interior Minister Pugo had received news of Yeltsin's fate, along with all the members of the party establishment.
Pugo also roughly guessed the cause and effect from the report, but he still sweated secretly. Andrei's methods were so clean and neat. For them, is this a good thing or a bad thing.
He couldn't help looking at the sky outside the Kremlin office window with a gloomy face, sighed helplessly, and said to the secretary beside him,
"We have done all that we can," he muttered to his secretary. "The path the Soviet Union takes now lies in God's hands."
His secretary shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. In the so-called atheist state, even the ministers had started praying.
This time Anderi wanted to completely break the image of the savior of democracy and freedom that Yeltsin had painstakingly created.
When the tank advanced to the intersection near the red square, the crowd of onlookers gradually increased, and no one seemed to realize that the middle-aged man sitting abruptly on the tank was their vice president and The would be Godfather.
Most of the onlookers were young people.
They stared at Yanayev standing stiffly on the lead tank, their eyes hostile, watching the Taman Division's every move. Yanayev gave Andrei a small, reassuring smile. From his own tank, Andrei could only offer a bitter one in return.
Yeltsin's supporters, Andrei observed.
He analyzed the current situation and found that these people did not take any further actions.
Presumably they did not receive instructions from the top . Andrei didn't want any uncertainties. He hopeed that when the tanks arrive at the square, they can hear the news of Yeltsin's suicide.
At eight o'clock in the morning on the 19th, twenty-six tanks surrounded the red square tightly.
The artillery was aimed at this building, which symbolized the supreme power of the Soviet nation, and the nearby intersection was also blocked by the secret police of the Ministry of the Interior to prohibit vehicles from passing.
The originally rowdy Moscow citizens finally began to gather in the square curiously, only to find that these tank soldiers were hurriedly building a curtain like an open-air movie, and then moved out the projector and placed it in front of the curtain. At this time, the Yeltsin supporters who originally wanted to step forward to stop them also stopped their small movements. They were curiously watching what these soldiers were going to do.
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The same scenes unfolded across Moscow , embassies, major boulevards, and public spaces. Wherever people gathered, screens appeared.
In the square, Andrei pressed the button. The reels whirred, the film flickered alive, and a familiar face filled the screen: Gorbachev.
The crowd erupted.
The expression of Gorbachev in the film looks a little angry, but because of the light, many people can only see the outline of the picture and the sound transmitted from the stereo to everyone's ears.
"Shut up, what do you know, Varennikov. You are just a soldier, so you take it for granted, and the vocation of a soldier is to obey orders, not to participate in a coup d'état."
The citizens were surprised to see that the general secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, who seemed never to lose his temper, turned out to have a frantic expression at this time, showing Gorbachev's rude side to the Moscow citizens.
Then the screen suddenly vibrated, and in full view of everyone, the segment of Gorbachev's assassination was played.
The crowd exploded when they heard the last sentence, "Long live President Yeltsin", the people's fury was instantly ignited.
KGB agents hiding among the citizens fanned the flames and shouted, "Yeltsin is a traitor!"
"Let's go and catch that executioner!"
"Avenge President Gorbachev! Long live the protection of the Soviets!"
The bewitched crowd chanted slogans against Yeltsin and rushed to the White House.
Those who originally supported Yeltsin's riots looked at each other in blank dismay.
The plot did not follow their script at all, and they didn't know what to do for a while.
Ironically, the Taman Division sent to crush protesters was now forced to maintain order. Soldiers formed steel barricades, holding back the mob.
Andrei's gamble had paid off. Not only Moscow, but the world was watching. Thanks to Gorbachev's liberal media policy, foreign journalists roamed freely. The Emergency Committee had wanted to ban them again, but Andrei had refused. He wanted history to see this moment. His moment.
And indeed, every leader on earth was glued to their televisions.
The BBC's reporter breathlessly described the chaos. Suddenly, he shouted:
"Gentlemen, look Yanayev! The Soviet General Secretary is on a tank!"
All cameras turned. Yanayev adjusted his coat, accepted Andrei's glance, then stood tall. He took out a loudspeaker.
"Citizens of Moscow, please calm down. I am the Vice President of the Soviet Union, General Secretary Gennady Ivanovich Yanayev."
Yanayev's voice was steady.
But the moment Yanayev revealed his identity, the bustling crowd slowly became quiet. The power of politics and theater was undeniable.
Yanayev ignored the angry eyes of the crowd, and continued on his own,
"I regret to tell you that the government has lied.
Gorbachev was not removed from duty because of illness—he was assassinated. Assassinated by traitors. By Boris Yeltsin, the man who deceived you all with the slogans of democracy and freedom. He is no hero. He is a fraud, a coward, a criminal."
The crowd stirred, whispers rippling through the square. Yanayev's voice grew bolder,
"Those who fight for justice will never yield to such trickery. But if anyone dares to create disturbances, I will treat them as accomplices, Yeltsin's accomplices and as traitors !"
Speaking of this, Yanayev picked up the AKS74U at the feet said coldly,
"We will send him to see God!"
The square erupted in thunderous applause. Yanayev raised his hand in gratitude, his face grave but triumphant.
Then he noticed a guy in the crowd with a peaked cap quickly passing through the crowd and walking towards him. .
Yanayev instinctively sensed a hint of threat, and took a few steps back. He was about to speak to the soldier beside him, but the soldier had already walked only ten steps away from him, and then assailant pretended to raise his hands to applaud, when the small pistol hidden in his palm suddenly fired at him.
The gunshots immediately stopped the crowd.
Yanayev fell slowly in front of everyone.
The assassin bolted, shouting as he went:
"Long live Yeltsin! Long live Russia! Long live democracy!"
Realizing what had had just happened many in the crowd hurriedly chased after the assailant as chaos erupted.
"Protect the General Secretary!" Andrei was the first to reach Yanayev, catching him before he collapsed. Cameras caught everything , Anderi made his debut in in the public eye for the first time, heroically defending the Soviet leader.
"This guy, it's really... a bit ruthless!" Yanayev looked at the figure that was fading away, his consciousness gradually blurred . When the guards around him rushed up, he only felt that the whole world was absorbed by a sponge It became quiet like a tone, and then closed its eyelids heavily as Anderi whispered,
(Oscar-worthy performance, I'll see to it you get one.)
The busy guards around him didn't notice while Yanayev let out a faint smile crept across his lips.
The plan had worked.
Andrei was genuinely surprised how smooth it went.
Politics is a wonderful show of lying.
No one will question Yeltsin's motives for assassinating Gorbachev, and no one will wonder why the guards let someone to get so close to Yanayev .
Perhaps someone will consider this after the turmoil has passed, cynics might speculate.
But in this moment, only one story mattered.
The people had seen the assassin with their own eyes, and he had shouted Yeltsin's name.
And that was enough.
Facts were one thing.
Truth.. after all was whatever the people believed.