This is the latest report on the Riga incident," Natasha said, handing over a freshly printed file. "Intelligence has reconfirmed everything."
Andrei didn't even glance at it.
"I'm not reading that. Tell the KGB to seal it for now. I don't intend to embarrass myself in front of half the world."
Natasha's jaw tightened. Sencing her mood Andrei asked,
"What's should we do, then?"
" I think both should be shot in firing squad, along with their cronies, one is wife stealer other is a pedofile , both deserve nothing less ."she replied without hesitation.
" Now that's not a politically correct answer."
Andrei can understand her anger. but now he simply doesn't have the capacity, he lost control in the Baltic situation.
The war in Baltic has turned into enthic cleansing .Honestly he actually expected some of this, but nasty depravity of this case shocked even him.
Aprently the two commanders at the center of the scandal were among the worst offenders. Miaev, First Secretary of Estonia, had made a habit of humiliating his political enemies by sleeping with their wives. Uzbek General Tulkun Kasimov, meanwhile, preferred underage girls, .
Yesterday, Kasimov had invited Miaev to "see his collection."
There, Miaev discovered his own daughter.
She had been sent to Switzerland to study. Apparently, she had returned secretly to participate in protests in Vilnius and had been picked up quietly.
Miaev was furious and one thing led to another and shots were fired.
Andrei can't make any sense out of this . He can't fire the only high-ranking Uzbek general nor 'official' president of Estonia without collapsing the entire Baltic façade.
" Whatever keep it lid, make sure my entry should be flawless."
Natasha wasn't happy. Just as she was about to speak, the car stopped. They finally arrived at their destination.
The door of the presidential limousine opened, and a flood of camera flashes burst through the darkness. Andrei stepped out first, lifting his hand in a practiced wave to the reporters gathered behind the cordon. Putin followed closely behind.
Before them stood the Munich Conference Hall.
Decades earlier, Britain and France had chosen appeasement here. Decades later, Western Europe would choose compromise again.
Andrei straightened his coat and moved forward with measured confidence.
"Good evening," he murmured to himself, the corner of his mouth lifting faintly.
"Enemies of the Soviet Union, your handsome dictator has arrived."
And without another glance backward, he walked into the hall.
+-------------------------;--------
The choice of Munich as the venue was no coincidence.
The location itself sent a clear message to Moscow: this was not a real negotiation, but a carefully staged performance meant to give Western Europe room to retreat without losing face.
"What an interesting young man," the CIA chief murmured, unconsciously touching his chin.
In all his years of diplomacy, he had never seen anyone arrive at an international conference so brazenly. An entire battalion accompanied the Soviet delegation armed guards moving like human shields.
The spectacle alone was enough for the global media to abandon every other delegation and focus exclusively on the Soviets. Everyone else might as well not have existed.
And if that weren't enough, there were the young women in tailored black uniforms, flanking Andrei as personal bodyguards. Even African dictators usually to feel shame.
Brent forced himself to look away from the girls and turned his attention to the conference table.
Like all summits, it opened with a feel good speech. The honor naturally went to U.S. President George H. W. Bush, who spoke warmly about dialogue, cooperation, and his happiness that all parties could resolve disputes peacefully at the negotiating table.
After several minutes Andrei was almost drowsy.
"That's enough, Mr. Bush," Andrei said suddenly, lifting the microphone. "Your speech was very… inspiring. But we don't have much time. Could you skip the pleasantries and get to the point? Everyone here is clearly impatient."
A faint pause rippled through the hall.
"I'm sorry, General Secretary. It seems that this sincere speech cannot move you." Bush said with a hint of meaning, "Very well. Let us be direct. The recent unrest in the Baltic region has caused serious concern across the international community."
Andrei leaned forward slightly.
"The fate of small countries has always been decided by big ones. Let's not insult each other by talking about international morality. Truth exists only within the range of artillery fire. Unfortunately, the Soviet Union's artillery reaches farther into the Baltic than that of the other 'fair' powers. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. President?"?"
Bush smiled awkwardly. Around him, other leaders avoided eye contact. These were originally "truths" that everyone kept secret. It was really embarrassing to be pointed out directly by the Soviet leader.
The last comment was too much as all the European leaders took turns to denounce Andrei.
"With the collapse of the Wall, the will of the people cannot be ignored!" declared John Major.
"We stand against tyranny and oppression!" proclaimed François Mitterrand.
"Let there be love, not war," Helmut Kohl added solemnly.
Applause followed each statement, as if they just defeated The Soviet Union.
As more leaders took turns denouncing the Soviet Union, the youngest among them delivered the strongest blow.
Finland's prime minister, Sanna Marin, rose to speak.
Young, composed and striking, she addressed the hall with unmistakable confidence.
"Today, we stand with the people of the three Baltic states," she said firmly. "When the Soviet Union invaded the Baltic nations, it did not merely attack individual countries—it assaulted the very foundations of peace in Europe. What binds us today are the lessons of our shared past of standing against dictatorship.
They believed we would be weak. They believed we would be divided. Instead, we stand united, in solidarity with humanity itself, against an imperial project built on violence and fear. History will never forget those who condone violent totalitarianism."
The hall erupted in applause.
Cameras flashed wildly. For an instant, even the Soviet delegation short circuited.
Although they were called a lot of names, none called out the Baltic situation as an invasion.
Now Finish prime minister unknowingly gave legitimacy to Baltic states.
Sanna Marin felt it, the attention, the flabagusted enemy, the jealous glare form allies, the gravity, the sense that the world was watching her.
Then Andrei spoke.
"Sorry, beautiful," he said casually,. "What were you saying again? I got distracted by your clevage ."
Silence fell like a hammer.
A few seconds later, muffled laughter broke out, first from the Soviet side, then, disastrously, from a handful of Western leaders, including Bush himself.
With one sentence, Andrei had stripped her of her office, reducing the prime minister of Finland to an object. He hadn't even acknowledged her as a head of government.
Sanna opened her mouth to recover, to reclaim some dignity—
Andrei didn't give her the chance.
"You know," he continued, "since it's been a while, maybe I should send my boys to take a look. Just to be sure. We are neighbors, after all."
She froze.
It was a threat. An open one.
Not just to Finland , but to every bordering state.
The room went completely silent.
Andrei leaned back, lips curling into a thin smile.
"Relax. I'll wait," he said indifferently. "The last man who threatened us here was Hitler and his so called master race. He later shot himself in disgrace , as for happened for the later is self evident.
So I suppose you people do have the courage to play with fate of your people, beware not to repeat it. "
No one spoke for a while.
....