In The Kremlin

Source

Президент¹ Maksim Vladimirovich Ryzhov stepped out into the cool night air, his bodyguards were nearby, close enough to protect him, far enough away to give him a sense of privacy. He took a deep breath, he could almost taste the coming autumn, followed by the winter.

As a Russian, he wasn't supposed to be bothered by winter, but he was, greatly. He had been a young lieutenant in the First Russo-Ukraine War. Many historians say that ended when Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, but as a Russian, he saw 2014 to 2026 as one war. The second one, which ended not so long ago, found him as a junior member of the Duma². His stance against that war is what really launched his political career.

His empty left sleeve had given him a certain credibility when talking about war on the floor of the Duma.

He had been leading a much reduced company of armor during the "final" drive on Kiev³, mostly T-72s and a single T-80 (his own vehicle). It was during the worst blizzard that area had seen in decades. The Ukrainians had been falling back fast, Ryzhov was driving his men forward when he realized it was a trap.

A heavy barrage of artillery had forced them to button up, then the barrage ceased, and they came up out of their hatches. The snow had stopped, then a swarm of Ukrainian drones had torn them to pieces. He had awakened in a ditch beside his destroyed vehicle. A thin coating of snow covered him. He awakened to a man applying a torniquet to his left arm, which was hanging by a flap of skin and a single tendon.

After the man had injected him with a spirette of morphine, he had thanked him, in Russian. The man, before running off, had answered him in Ukrainian. It was only then that Ryzhov had seen the blue and yellow armband.

On cold nights, which tonight was, his missing arm still bothered him. He thought it ironic that a Ukrainian drone had taken his arm, but a Ukrainian medic had saved his life. He lit a cigarette.

"Gospodin Prezident, those things will kill you." One of his bodyguards, Timofey Yermolayevich Chekudayev, always a cheeky bastard, admonished him.

"If the Ukrainians couldn't kill me, Tima, I doubt one of these things will."

The guards all chuckled, except for Krivkov. Jaromir Zakharovich Krivkov never smiled, he took his job very seriously. He had been in the Kremlin on the day Ryzhov's predecessor had been cut down by a member of the duty regiment. Krikov had killed that man and six others before the officers of both units settled things down. Krikov had been badly wounded in the affair.

Ryzhov stubbed his cigarette on the heel of his boot, he always wore military-style boots, and tossed the butt in the nearest receptacle. "Come on boys, let's go back inside."

The meeting came to an end after a dicussion of what actions Russia should take regarding the apparent outbreak of hostilities between China and India. There was much talk of supporting China, though one of the businessmen on the Council had asked a very telling question ...

"The Chinese buy nothing of ours, the Indians are a very good customer, they pay cash."

Shouting had broken out, one woman had actually said something about "socialist solidarity with our Chinese brothers and sisters." Which had caused Marshal of the Russian Federation Ilarion Igorevich Ivchenko to stand up, slam his not insubstantial fist on the table, and bellow at the room.

"There is no 'socialist solidarity' with those bastards. Remember the Embargo of '33? We might have had a complete victory in the west but for those thieving bastards!"

Ryzhov tapped the table with the gavel he kept nearby. "Enough. Russia will, and should, remain neutral. The Americans are staying clear and ..."

"There are four American attack boats in the Indian Ocean ..."

"Sit down, Admiral. There are six Russian attack boats off the coast of Japan, does that mean we are planning on attacking there? No!"

Ryzhov had slammed his open hand down on the table, which made everyone jump.

"We. Are. Not. Repeat. Not. getting involved in this. Is that clear?"

When everyone had left the room, he turned to Chekudayev, "Tima, I think Delegate Nastasya Yegorovna Masmekhova needs a vacation. See to it, would you?"

"Of course, Gospodin Prezident."

The message went out to the United States very late, in essence it said, "The Russian Federation has no interest in the events in the Indian Ocean. - Ryzhov"

¹ President

² The Russian Parliament

³ I continue to use the spelling I grew up with. As I am neither Russian or Ukrainian, who cares?