The room fell silent. Yermolov paused, recovered his composure, and said, “What is this, a picnic? A social call? Do you have room on your chest for more medals?”
It was obvious that Yermolov was losing what little patience he had with his Defense Minister.
“I will say this again”, Yermolov repeated more calmly, but as authoritatively as ever. “Tomorrow, you, Mr. KGB Chief, will hand me a plan for your operatives’ activities inside the western European states.
From you, Marshal, I will receive a plan for a limited entry and takeover of the GDR, that is, East Germany. Do you understand me, Marshal? We are not taking Paris, Rome or London. We are taking Berlin!”
Yermolov stared intensely at Marshal Budarenko, trying to gauge if his message had been received.
“I will be more specific so as to avoid misunderstandings”, the General Secretary resumed. “We are aiming for the eastern part of Berlin, the eastern sector only, and even when we get there, we will keep a safe distance from the Berlin Wall.”
The General Secretary locked his eyes on both his Defense Minister and the KGB chief. “You two arrange a time with Svetlana to meet me tomorrow. This meeting is closed.”
As the General Secretary, followed by his two bodyguards, hurried out of the conference room and back to his office, he was greeted by Svetlana.
“Good morning, Gospodin Vladimir Petrovich Yermolov.”
“Good morning, Svetlana”, he replied, without slowing his pace. “By the way, regards from your uncle. I so enjoy meeting him, especially early in the morning before the day’s work begins.”
“Thank you, Sir”, Svetlana replied, struggling to hide a grin, as she was well versed in the General Secretary’s biting irony. They must have had another shouting match, she thought.
Chapter 2
The GRU soviet military intelligence base was situated in the midst of a dense forest, some twenty miles outside Moscow. It was a top secret location and very few even knew of its existence. Sergey Blutin, Marshal Budarenko’s loyal aide, had been waiting at the base for two hours, wondering why he had been summoned there with such great urgency. The room he was in, with its bare walls and basic functional furniture accentuating its gloomy starkness, looked like a simple, modest classroom. A low wooden platform and a desk stood at the front of the room near the doorway, with a green-painted blackboard hanging on the wall behind them. Three desks and several padded metal chairs occupied the center of the room.
Every few seconds, Sergey would glance at the five other men waiting with him. He assumed from their body language and reticence that, like him, they had just been pulled out of their regular places of work a short time earlier. He gazed out of a narrow window at the nearly empty parking lot. He understood that he had been summoned to discuss a very sensitive topic, but he struggled to understand the presence of what looked like a platoon of soldiers in battle gear and carrying assault rifles patrolling the building’s grounds. Are they protecting us from outsiders, or guarding us, he wondered. We are being watched, he concluded, like prisoners. What is going on here, and who are the other five people here, who are probably thinking the same thoughts.
The sound of incoming vehicles cut into his musings, and he returned to his seat at the desk. There was some talk outside before the door opened to usher in the Defense Minister himself. Marshal Budarenko, wearing green army fatigues, strode to the wooden platform and took his seat in front of his small, stunned audience, who stood at attention. The Marshal motioned for them to be seated before pulling a cigarette from a pack of Marlboros and lighting it. He took a deep drag and exhaled the smoke through his nostrils, as if starved for its aroma. He was savoring every moment.
“These Yanks sure know how to make good cigarettes”, he joked, trying to lighten the frosty, tense atmosphere in the room. It seemed futile, as his small team of military men sat motionless, seemingly frozen in terror before his intimidating presence.
Another man, wearing a light blue suit, entered the room, carrying a large brown leather case. He approached Budarenko, and, when the Marshal had unlocked the case, ceremoniously pulled out several large sealed manila envelopes and placed them carefully on the Marshal’s desk. The Minister of Defense’s eyes followed the blue-suited man as he briskly left the room and closed the door.
Marshal Budarenko had not yet finished his cigarette. He scanned the faces of the six silent and expressionless men seated before him, all awaiting a clue from him as to why they were gathered there.
“From now on, until further notice, you are to stay here in complete isolation and under close surveillance”, he finally declared, crushing the cigarette butt in a metal ashtray, never taking his eyes off the six men.
“You will work here, eat here and perhaps even manage to steal a few hours of sleep, also here”, he added.
“You are my personal, confidential team of thinkers. Each of you is considered a prodigy in his field. But if any one of you fails to deliver…”
He paused for a moment, raised his right arm, and swiftly sliced the air in a beheading motion. There was no need for further explanation.
“Am I clear? If any one of you fails, he will be replaced immediately with another, most talented man. Your replacements are ready — there is another team of six here on base, and any one of them can replace each and every one, or all of you, at a moment’s notice.”
His audience remained rigid with fright. The atmosphere was grim. Marshal Budarenko was most certainly living up to his reputation.
“Each of you will receive one of these sealed envelopes with an order personally signed by me. It is intended for anyone in the Soviet Union who can help you acquire anything you need to complete your mission, including arms, equipment and personnel. They are ordered to fulfill your request immediately, regardless of their rank or status or whether they are military or civilian. All possible means are at your disposal, including any transportation to any destination, by land, sea or air.
“And remember, you are not alone here. You will remain here 24 hours a day under surveillance. Your liaison officer with me is the civilian gentleman who entered this room a few minutes ago. You will direct any questions or requests to him.”
The six men remained silent. They still had no clue as to their mission, and none dared to ask. What was certain was that their lives were changing before their eyes.
“Sergey, we’ll start with you”, announced the marshal.
Sergey, who up until a few hours before had been working as a senior aide to the Minister, stood up. His soon-to-be colleagues did not yet know who he was.
“Yes, Mr. Minister”, he responded.
“You, Sergey, have an easy task, which you will complete before morning. You will prepare a detailed, comprehensive paper for me to submit to Comrade General Secretary. In this document, which I will personally present to Mr. General Secretary for his approval, you will detail and explain the methods of action and orders of battle sufficient to invade and seize control of the German Democratic Republic as swiftly as possible. You will leave no question unanswered. I want the order of battle to be as large as possible, much larger than we need just for this mission. I trust you will find justifications, such as the harsh winter and the mud that will slow the progress of our armored columns, as well as other possible reasons, so long as they seem rational and proportional. But that is not all. I also want you to prepare a Phase B plan for me, in which I want a full outline for deploying as many of our armored forces as possible as a reserve, at a reasonable distance from the border between the two German republics. These, even if stationed outside the GDR, should be able to cross into West Germany within 36 to 48 hours of receiving their orders. This reserve, or maybe even the main force, should be able to leverage the advantages gained by Phase A’s invading force and enter West Germany by surprise, thereby expanding and deepening our hold of the NATO territory that we will then occupy.