Soviet Union 1991

As for Yanayev himself, if one day a group of people around him jumped out and told you that they wanted to restore the interests of the bureaucratic group during the Brezhnev period and enjoy the privileged class, and he could not take action to rectify it, and if he interfered, he would question the other party, are you speaking from the standpoint of the party or the standpoint of the people, then the general secretary’s first reaction would definitely be, bring my Kalashnikov, I want to clean up these traitors for Comrade Lenin and the motherland!

The privileged class is definitely not the achievement of socialist construction emphasized by Comrade Lenin at the beginning. How could Comrade Lenin, who has been committed to eliminating the exploiting class all his life, let these dead souls stand up again.

In the Ministry of Defense building, Deputy Minister Balaklov sat in his office, holding a cup of black coffee in his hand, his eyes fixed on the bustling downtown streets outside the window. The phone on the table rang every half an hour, and the Dzerzhinsky Division loyal to Vladimir cooperated with the tank troops to advance in the direction of the White House.

When the tanks advanced on the road, the citizens of Moscow cast horrified eyes. They whispered and hurriedly avoided the advancing steel troops. These tanks reminded them of the bloody events of the year.

The scene in 1991 reappeared today. The steel tanks were the lingering nightmare of the bloody coup.

Now, they are back.

In order to protect the entire red republic, the cold wind could not stop the steel tracks from moving forward. The sturdy steel turrets aimed at the streets at the end of the road, and the flag on the top floor of the White House building was looming in the sight of the observer.

"Poor Lukyanov, you don't know what happened at all..."

Balaklov looked at the pedestrians on Abbaskaya Square through the glass. This undercurrent political struggle would break the calm in the form of tank invasion. Perhaps Lukyanov was still confidently hiding in the White House ready to deal with Vladimir, but he didn't know that the 125mm artillery had already aimed at his head.

That was the last trump card of the entire Moscow.

Balaklov closed the book with a snap and looked up. The light made him squint his long and narrow eyes. He waited calmly until the phone rang again.

Ring, ring, ring

Balaaklov answered the phone. The voice on the other end was the commander of the Dzerzhinsky Division. Comrade Yazov, who graduated from the Frunze Academy, was the commander-in-chief of this operation.

Yazov, who had not personally commanded a military operation for a long time, seemed eager to try. The Slavs' cold blood of war boiled again. He missed Beslan, missed the Chechen War, and missed the revenge of the Camellia Incident, but he could not miss this grand ceremony to send off his old friend.

Tonight, Comrade Yazov, the first minister of the Ministry of Defense, will join the hunt.

In the BMP3 infantry fighting vehicle, the violent sound of the engine forced Yazov to cover his right ear and increase the volume to communicate with Balaklov. He shouted at the top of his lungs, almost screaming, "We are on the way to the White House now. The infantry fighting vehicles of the Dzerzhinsky Division are ready to surround the White House! Then the tank armored division is also ready to reach the destination and launch the final surprise attack!"

Exciting good news.

The voice on the phone was intermittent, and there was noisy noise interfering with the communication, but Balaklov still had to explain everything to the old and strong Yazov.

"Received, Comrade Yazov, now the Taman Division has entered to surround the White House, and Lukyanov can't escape!"

The Taman Division commanded by Balaklov is turning the White House into a prison that is impenetrable. He can even imagine the hemispherical turrets on the tracked armored vehicles rotating neatly, aiming at the windows of the high-rise buildings of the White House, and the nervous eyes hiding behind them - this is a cordial greeting from the Kremlin.

Yazov didn't hear it clearly, and was still shouting to ask Balaklov if he heard it clearly, so he could only repeat what he said before.

"I got it!"

Baraklov waved his hand. He couldn't wait to see what the expressions of the opponents hiding in the White House were like.

The Minister of Defense was interrupted by the driver of the BMP infantry fighting vehicle. He turned around and said to Comrade Yazov in the infantry cabin, "Minister of Defense, I'm sorry to bother you. The White House is in front. No matter what happens, please stay in the car and don't come out."

"What a joke, how can I command the attack if I don't go out?"

Yazov knocked on the steel hatch very dissatisfiedly and said, "Young man, I'm not here to visit. I am the front-line commander of this attack. There is no reason to hide behind."

"Sniper." The soldier said with difficulty, "We are afraid that they have deployed snipers. When you appear in Abbaskaya Square, they will give you a fatal blow. Only in the infantry cabin are you the safest. Our mission is to protect you from any harm."

T72 tanks and BMP infantry fighting vehicles surrounded the White House. The soldiers hid behind the tanks, lurking carefully, and did not dare to look up. They were afraid that snipers were lurking behind the invisible glass, looking for their prey in the eyepiece.

The steel helmets quietly poking out from the armored plates, and some figures running with small steps, were all targets for them to pull the trigger. Not to mention Comrade Yazov, the owner of the Ministry of Defense building, who would be shot into a corpse riddled with holes the moment he stood outside, which was a horrible sight.

In the square, one T72 tank after another formed a ring of steel, surrounding the Ministry of National Defense building in the center. The turrets extend in a uniform direction, and the tank crew in the cockpit can see through the periscope that armed soldiers walking back and forth in the hall on the ground floor of the White House are looking for bunkers.

They are still making their final resistance, and they are also the last concern for Yazov's attack, because once the final battle is carried out, casualties are bound to occur. The operational plan to siege the White House is being watched by embassies of other countries. Yazov hopes to resolve the matter peacefully and reduce casualties. After all, it was an internal struggle within the Soviet Union, and it was not convenient to put it on the stage.

Minister Yazov waved his hand and was very disdainful of the soldiers' worries, "Sniper? Do you think Lukyanov really dares to show his face? If I die, he will not benefit at all. Then he will not be sent to Siberia, but Go straight to the gallows Lukyanov is at a disadvantage. He does not dare to take excessive actions rashly. The difference between politicians and soldiers is that the former will find ways to protect their own interests. It is really difficult for them to give up some of their interests to preserve the core. ”

"but……"

The captain wanted to say something else, but was interrupted by Yazov. He waved his hand, his expression unwavering in the dimly lit cockpit, "Okay, there is no but, I will be responsible for the safety of my life. Your main task is not to protect me, but to capture the White House and arrest all the armed personnel involved in the war."

After saying that, he ignored it, grabbed the olive green SSH68 steel helmet, put it on his head, knocked on the hatch with his fist, ordered the soldiers to open the door, and shouted at the top of his voice, "Let me out, I will teach Lu Kyan personally That useless guy Nov, what does it mean to be crushed by absolute strength!"

The hatch was opened, and Yazov emerged from the dark infantry compartment. He looked at the armored troops stationed in the square continuously. He held on to the cold handrails and looked up at the White House in front of him. He didn't know who was sitting inside. Are you watching all this like him?

Azov is ready for the final battle.

Salute all political opponents with artillery fire.

"Happy hunting."

"The First Hunter" Yazov pressed the edge of the helmet, looked at the frightened prey in the White House, and said with a smile.