After extended flirtations with various union treaties, Ukraine had declared complete independence in 1991, shortly after the failed coup attempt against Gorbachev, then turned around and signed the Minsk Agreement with Russia and Belarus, creating the Commonwealth of Independent States. For a time, during the Norwegian War, Ukraine had again been part of the Soviet empire, but with the collapse of Moscow’s central government and the outbreak of a general civil war, Kiev had again declared independence… and this time around seemed downright eager to redress old wrongs.
Unlike many other autonomous regions throughout the old Soviet Union, Ukraine had few internal ethnic conflicts. Most of the region’s large Tatar populations had been forcibly resettled in Central Asia during the 1940s; the only real ethnic hostilities remaining were those between Ukrainians and Russians. Eastern Ukraine had a high percentage of Russians in the population, most of whom favored strong ties with Moscow; from the few reports coming out of Russia to the West, strongly nationalistic Ukrainians had precipitated a blood-bath among ethnic Russians, killing hundreds of thousands ― perhaps millions ― and sending millions more fleeing across the border into the already devastated lands of the Russian Federation.
Besides that, the old dispute between Kiev and Moscow over the ownership of the Crimean Peninsula and the Black Sea Fleet remained. With Russia involved in its civil war, Ukraine appeared poised to settle the issue once and for all… by threat if possible, by military force if necessary. According to the most recent intelligence available to the Jefferson battle group, the Ukrainian Fifth and Seventh National Armies were in position at Odessa and at Melitopol, ready to move in and seize the Crimea from its Russian caretakers. Amphibious landing craft were being gathered at Odessa and at both Ocakov and Svobodnyj Port at the mouth of the Dnieper, lending credence to CIA and U.S. Naval Intelligence predictions that an invasion of the Crimea ― both overland across the narrow isthmus to the north and by sea, along the beaches north of Sevastopol ― was imminent.
Though distracted, the Russians had been trying their best to bolster their defenses in the Crimea. Since Ukraine blocked all approaches across the isthmus, their main line of communication ran across the narrow straits of Kerch, from an arm of the Russian Federation that flanked the Black and Azov Seas from Novoazovsk to the Georgian frontier at Gagra. Most of that bolstering had taken the form of military flights ― transports and air escorts ― flying in from Krasnodar. No one was quite sure at the moment whether Red or Blue forces held the upper hand, either in the Crimea or at Krasnodar. For a time, there’d been speculation among U.S. intelligence officers that those flights out of Krasnodar were in fact an invasion, one civil-war faction moving in to take Sevastopol away from the other in a three-cornered tug-of-war between Reds, Blues, and Ukrainians. So far, though, there was no indication that this was the case. Supply flights were moving in and out of the various Crimean military and commercial airfields with an almost clock-like regularity, and so far the Ukrainian forces had not attempted to hinder them… or to deliver the expected attack on the peninsula’s defenders.
But the situation was becoming more dangerous ― explosively so ― day by day. If the northern half of the Black Sea, from Odessa to Gagra, became a war zone, it would be difficult, perhaps impossible, for the UN-U.S. forces in the area to stay clear of the fighting.
And now, three days after the accidental sinking of a Russian sub in the southern Black Sea, a Russian general named Boychenko, the de facto military ruler of the Crimean Peninsula, had just offered to surrender military control of the district to the United Nations. One of Boychenko’s people had approached the U.S. ambassador to the UN with the proposal during discussions of the return of the Russian submariners now aboard the Jefferson.
“I really wonder if it’s our interests that are being served here,” Scott said. “Let’s put this in perspective. First off, Boychenko is the Military Governor of the Crimea. After Krasilnikov declared martial law during the coup against Leonov, he became what amounts to the absolute ruler of the entire Crimean region. We’re not talking about some small unit commander wanting to turn over a few pieces of heavy artillery here. This is the equivalent of having an entire country ask for UN intervention.”
Lloyd nodded agreement. “Admiral Scott’s right,” he said. “It’s completely unprecedented. If the UN accepts this arrangement, they’re in effect declaring the Crimea to be under the authority ― and the protection ― of the United Nations Security Council.”
“That’s what Boychenko’s counting on,” Scott went on. “The only reason he’s decided to make this offer is the fact that he’s got a Ukrainian army knocking at his front door. The Ukrainians want the Crimea, and they want it bad. They want the prestige of controlling what they consider to be Ukrainian territory. They want the military supplies and materiel there. The bases, The ships of the Russian Black Sea Fleet that haven’t been seized or defected to them. Most especially, they want the Pobedonosnyy Rodina.”
“Excuse me?” Reed looked baffled.
“Pobedonosnyy Rodina, Madam Secretary,” Magruder offered. “It means “Victorious Motherland’ in Russian. That’s the name of the largest remaining ship in the Red fleet, a nuclear carrier as big as any of ours.”
“I thought we took out their carriers in the Norwegian War,” Waring said.
“We accounted for two out of three, sir,” Magruder said. “Kreml and Soyuz, their first two carriers. This one wasn’t ready for action when the fighting broke out in Norway, though. She was still undergoing sea trials in the Black Sea. You can be sure the Ukrainians would love to add her to their fleet. There’s nothing like a supercarrier to enhance a country’s image as a world power.”
“Unless it’s a nuclear arsenal,” Reed said, her mouth twisted in distaste. “Which Ukraine has, I might add. And Russia. All of this simply supports my argument, that we must intervene to maintain the peace.”
“What peace, Madam Secretary?” Scott demanded. “The whole area is tearing itself apart now.”
“Ukraine has not attacked yet,” she said. “By taking control of the Crimea, the UN will help ensure that the war does not spread. As it would if Ukraine attacked Russian possessions in the area. They would not risk angering the United Nations with an attack.”
“Madam Secretary,” Admiral Scott said wearily, “how can you possibly know what the Ukrainians will or will not do?”
“There are also humanitarian considerations at stake here,” Heideman said with a disdainful look at Scott. “The Ukrainian government seems to have embarked upon a program of ethnic cleansing against the non-Ukrainian population within their borders. A large number of ethnic Russians have been killed or driven out already. And the population of Crimea is mostly ethnic Russian. Allowing the Ukrainians to take over the Crimea unopposed would open the floodgates to genocide.”
“It would make Bosnia look like a picnic,” Reed added.
“So by allowing the Reds in the Crimea to surrender to the UN, we keep the Ukrainians out,” Waring said. “We stop a blood-bath, we reduce the risk of a general war between Ukraine and Russia, and we stop Kiev from seizing military assets in the Black Sea that could further destabilize the region. I’m not sure I understand your objection, Admiral Scott.”
“And think of the opportunity we have here,” Heideman said. “An historic opportunity! Since the end of World War II, we’ve been looking for a way to make the UN a strong voice for world peace, and this could be just what we need to do it. The picture of a Red officer surrendering to the United Nations, not to any one country but to the world itself, that would be a symbol that would count.”