Soviet Union 1991

First update

The Kremlin was surprisingly brightly lit today. A row of huge gilded chandeliers hung from the ceiling of the white marble hall on the second floor, and exquisite reliefs were carved on the walls on both sides. This is the majestic St. George Hall, which is now full of people chatting and laughing. They gathered here for the same reason. The treaty between the United States and the Soviet Union on the destruction of weapons of mass destruction.

The people standing on the white marble floor of the Kremlin at this time also had complicated expressions. These people included politicians from the high walls of this exquisite building, generals from the military camps mixed with gunpowder and the cold smell of steel, and the reporters who rushed over from the West in dusty weather, looking for their prey with sharp eyes, political prey that can be reported in newspapers or news.

Of course, at the banquet, there were also hunters like these Western reporters. They were hidden, gloomy conspirators, spies and counterintelligence intelligence personnel of the KGB. These people are different from the Kremlin security guards holding short Kalashnikovs, who only stand on the walls around the Grand Kremlin Palace and watch the surrounding situation with suspicious eyes.

They are as inconspicuous as the waiters who walk back and forth with shining silver plates and high-end crystal glasses filled with Romanov royal champagne and Kremlin brand vodka. These KGB spies patrol the room, listening to a word, perhaps a conversation that is too low or a word that does not match the atmosphere of the night.

The quartet string orchestra plays passionate classical music in the corner. Maybe no one will listen seriously, but this is a special program of foreign diplomatic receptions. Without it, a diplomatic occasion becomes a little incomplete. The intricate marble floor patterns of St. George Hall were covered with leather shoes and high heels worn by more than a hundred people. Each person was talking half the time. In order to hear each other talking, people had to raise their voices to overwhelm the music. Spies used the noise and concealed identities to carry out activities. Becoming ghosts at the banquet.

These Western diplomats and Kremlin politicians were waiting for the real owner of the palace to arrive, although a month ago, the countries they were loyal to were still in a cold war confrontation because of the Arabian Sea incident. In the end, the United States gave in and chose to reconcile the crisis.

Then, the Soviet Union also issued a treaty on the limitation of large-scale chemical weapons. Politicians from both the United States and the Soviet Union almost gathered in the palace of the Kremlin to discuss this matter. Spies who were also well versed in "Kremlinology" also gathered here. They were able to collect their own intelligence through the demeanor and conversation of those Soviet officials.

General Hammer's adjutant Charles obviously belonged to another category of people, and he was not the only CIA agent who appeared in the Kremlin. Although he appeared here as a member of the biological and chemical weapons negotiation team, and was responsible for tracking some weapons of mass destruction that might be lost in the Soviet Union. After all, two months ago, the "national technical detection tools", which implied spy satellites and communication means, tracked a truck departing from a Soviet republic with suspicious behavior.

He stared at everyone with a sharp gaze. They all looked so suspicious at this time, including Defense Minister Comrade Yazov, who was talking to the officials around him, Foreign Minister Shevardnadze, and even Shepilov from the Soviet Chemical Industry Department.

Suspicious, everyone looked so suspicious. They all seemed to be conspirators involved in an unspeakable plan.

Of course, Charles listed Minister Shepilov of the Chemical Industry Department as the first on the list of possible breakthroughs. If someone from the Chemical Industry Department said that he was only responsible for Russia's oil production and had no involvement in chemical weapons of mass destruction, it would be as ridiculous as an official from the White House claiming that his hands were clean. At least in the case of the loss of Soman gas in 1983, the Soviet spy target targeted by the CIA, one of his identities was the technical director of the chemical industry department.

As he said this, he slowly tasted a sip of champagne, and then pretended to be nonchalant and walked around those Slavic beauties with jewels, elegant temperament and noble temperament. Their perfume made Charles rub his nose involuntarily, like a wolf with a keen sense of smell resisting the interference around him. Leather shoes stepped carefully on the marble slab, silently.

Charles moved in front of Shepilov, although the other party tried his best to show his spirit. But his tiredness could still be seen from his drooping eyelids. Charles said in fluent spoken language, "Hello, Minister Shepilov. I am the negotiating team of the US Treaty on Weapons of Mass Destruction. You can call me Charles."

As soon as he heard the identity of the American, Shepilov became alert instantly. Of course he knew that there were several pairs of eyes nearby secretly watching their conversation, and they might even record everything in a notebook and present it to the top KGB officials, those terrible devils who could decide his life and death.

"Let's talk about it at the negotiation table, Mr. Charles. The negotiations haven't started yet, and we don't have anything to talk about." Shepilov unceremoniously ordered him to leave. He was Pugo's man in the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and the real KGB manager was the deputy minister of the Ministry of Chemical Industry, who was specifically responsible for the production of hazardous chemicals. They were like separate managers who did not infringe on each other. The personnel power of the Central Organization Department was in the hands of Yanayev, which could be said to be a model of checks and balances.

Shepilov didn't want to get involved in these messy affairs, although the position of deputy minister could directly contact those senior figures and there was more room for promotion. But they always knew some secrets that they shouldn't know. If things were exposed one day, these people might be pushed out as scapegoats.

Shepilov still wanted to continue to climb up. He didn't want to die in the position of the chemical industry department, or be defeated by political opponents in the position of minister.

"I've said too much, Comrade Shepilov." Charles nodded, and he pretended to chat with Shepilov about these buildings intentionally or unintentionally.

"I think it's much better for a country to spend tax money on such artistic sculptures and build bright and beautiful great buildings than to make chemical weapons that take countless lives at any time, right? It's a pity that as long as the conspiracy of politicians exists, we have to continue to clean up the mess for a certain balance of power."

"You said too much tonight, Mr. Charles. It's not always a good choice to reveal too much to someone you don't know. Of course, I also hope that a consensus can be reached on the treaty to destroy weapons of mass destruction tonight." Shepilov clinked glasses with Charles and said, "Excuse me for leaving."

Shepilov's reply was flawless, even if the KGB asked him to write a detailed material report, it would be impeccable. The reason he left was because he saw the real owner of the palace talking and laughing with the "guest" from the United States, slowly walking towards the direction of St. George's Hall.

Charles saw Yanaev, chuckled and moved closer. He wanted to see the real appearance of the Kremlin master from a close distance. Also acting with him were agents with different tasks around him. Their goal was to bring their Kremlin learning to the extreme in such occasions.

Outside the door of the Grand Kremlin Palace, a soft red carpet started from the door, laid towards each step, and continued to the door of the black car. The red carpet was like a scale, carrying and balancing everyone's high position and power. The person who came out of the car was Yanaev, who was still in high spirits in his fifties. He was smiling and waving to the reporters on both sides. For a moment, the flash of the spotlight was brighter than the crystal lamp in the Georgia Hall.

"General Secretary Yanaev, you finally showed up." Charles put his hands in his pockets and smiled and talked to himself. (To be continued.)