“First we’re going to cut it off; then we’re going to kill it.”
General Lieutenant Anton Voshchanka, flying in a Mil-8D assault/transport helicopter configured as a flying command center and communications aircraft, saw plumes of smoke rising from Chernyakhovsk Air Base in central Kalinin. After ordering his pilot to descend and get closer for a better look — they were at four thousand meters altitude, near the maximum service ceiling of the heavily laden Mil-8 helicopter, to avoid sporadic ground fire from Russian infantry — he saw tanks on the airfield itself beginning to take up what appeared to be defensive positions around the air base’s perimeter. There was no mistaking the identification of those tanks — old, slow T-60s of his Thirty-first Armored Brigade, punching through what was very determined resistance by front-line Russian T-72 and T-80 main battle tanks. “Status of the operation against Chernyakhovsk?” he asked his executive officer.
The executive officer relayed the question to the radio technicians. “Very good, sir,” came the reply. “The Thirty-first reports that it holds the CIS command post, radar facility, and flight line. Several skirmishes still being reported, including the bomb-storage area and armory building. Several aircraft escaped, but our forces are in control of the airfield.”
“Casualties?”
“Light to moderate was the last report from Colonel Shklovski,” the exec replied. “He’ll have a detailed report for you, but he reports his unit is fully combat-ready and taking up defensive positions.”
“Very good,” Voshchanka replied. Speed and shock were key elements in this operation; by the time the Russians had realized what was happening, his forces were on top of them. Since Voshchanka hadn’t ordered a slaughter of Russian soldiers, resistance was useless. “I don’t want a bloodbath, and I don’t want to lose those munitions if possible. Tell Colonel Shklovski to isolate those areas and take a surrender. We’ll need those weapons.” The executive officer passed on the order. “Report on the status of Seventh Division in Kaliningrad?”
“Not yet contained, sir,” the executive officer replied, referring to his notes transcribed from radio messages constantly being received. “General Gurvich and Twentieth Amphibious Brigade control the headquarters building of the Russian fleet and have surrounded the base, and Thirty-third Armored Brigade controls Proveren Naval Air Base. Our aircraft attacked and heavily damaged one warship trying to leave port. The others are staying at dockside, except three that were repositioned, per your orders, to block the deep-water canal across Kaliningrad Bay. Most vessels examined report only one-third to one-half manned. Most soldiers and sailors are reportedly staying in their barracks or off-base and trying to decide what to do. This allows our forces more freedom to get in position. We control one television station and four radio stations in Kaliningrad. The city appears to be taking a wait-and-see attitude.”
Voshchanka nodded — that wait-and-see attitude had come about after a very stiff price was paid. The commanders of Kaliningrad Naval Base and Proveren Naval Air Base, the two main Russian military bases in Kalinin oblast, had each accepted bribes totaling almost a quarter of a million American dollars to stay out of the conflict. One reason why the air base at Chernyakhovsk was aflame was that there was no more bribe money to be paid to that base’s commander, and he resisted.
But it was money well spent.
One of the keys to his successful occupation of Kalinin oblast and Lithuania was the reaction from the Baltic city of Kaliningrad itself, the largest and strategically most important city in the Kalinin oblast and certainly the most important in this entire operation. With a population of over four hundred thousand in the city itself and nearly seven hundred thousand in the western half of the territory, including a great number of wealthy businessmen and retired politicians and military members, it was necessary to not threaten the civilian population while “subduing” the many military bases and installations in the area. Fortunately, because of the Byelorussian military presence on behalf of the Commonwealth, there were almost as many loyal Byelorussian soldiers in Kaliningrad as there were Russian soldiers and sailors. Voshchanka’s troops also found a good number of Commonwealth soldiers and officers from many other republics that agreed with the reasons for doing away with the Commonwealth’s influence.
His military takeover was beginning to turn into something of a revolution.
The work he was doing here in Kalinin oblast was not designed as a sweeping military victory: Voshchanka, despite General Gabovich’s assurances of cooperation and assistance, harbored no illusions about the power of the Russian Republic. They would not think fondly of having Kaliningrad invaded and occupied. But it was necessary to put the Russians in Kalinin in a “clinch,” tie them up, and take strategic pieces of ground so he would have very strong foundations to stand on when negotiations began. Russia and the Commonwealth of Independent States had no money and no stomach for battle; Belarus had nothing to lose.
Voshchanka would win in Kalinin if he could take important strides without looking like a mad butcher.
But Lithuania was different.
It was necessary to occupy cities and towns, gobble up territory, and establish firm roots as fast as possible. The world would not stay stunned forever — eventually they would act, and they may vote to try to expel Byelorussian forces from Lithuania. Voshchanka had to move swiftly to consolidate his gains, and then prove that any attempt to try to kick him out of Lithuania would do more harm to Lithuania and to the surrounding republics than to Belarus …
… and part of that threat was his arsenal of SS-21 Scarab missiles now being dispersed throughout northern Belarus. Those small, road-mobile nuclear missiles were the keys to his success. The three nuclear-tipped missiles delivered to Voshchanka were deployed under heavy guard at a secret launch base in northern Belarus, and the others were being dispersed throughout the countryside. But while dispersing them to various launch sites was important, maintaining radio contact with each one of them was even more important.
“I need a report on the SS-21 deployment immediately,” Voshchanka ordered. It was risky using the radios to contact his headquarters about such a secret topic, but the pace of his deployment and what he would eventually order the Byelorussian president, Pavel Svetlov, to tell the world, all hinged on the successful deployment of those weapons. “Use the scrambled data link when we are within range.”
“That will not be for almost an hour, sir, until we are closer to Lida Naval Base,” the executive officer said. “The data link is not secure this far out.”
“Very well,” Voshchanka said. “But hay’, that report ready as soon as we arrive.” The faster he got those Scarab missile launchers safely tucked away, he thought, the faster this invasion could be completed.
“Lida Naval Approach, this is flight seven-one-one flight of two, forty kilometers southwest, one thousand meters, heading zero-niner-zero- correction, zero-niner-five. Over.” The young Belarus pilot who made the position report brushed an irritating drop of sweat out from under the hard rubber of his oxygen mask. The day’s security procedures dictated that all heading reports on initial call-up be given in odd numbers-he had almost forgotten that. There were about a dozen surface-to-air missile batteries along the Lithuanian-Belarus border that would let him know immediately if he made a mistake like that again.