Battlefield Taiwan

Valentine’s Day Massacre

Ambassador Duncan Rice understood why the Ukrainian government did not want to set up a government in exile in a neighboring country, but as his driver turned down another detoured road, he wished they would. Despite a lot of the ground fighting in Ukraine having subsided for the winter, the Russians had still made a concerted effort to hit the city with random cruise missiles and the occasional mortar attack. They especially liked to target the major road and rail networks, which made moving around the city rather challenging.

“I think Prime Minister Groysman feels like he is being a true leader by keeping his government in one of the last major strongholds left under his control,” thought Duncan as they neared the hotel that was acting as the PM’s primary government center. Looking out the window at the damage the city had sustained over the last five months of war, Duncan felt angry that his warnings had not been heeded regarding Russia.

As they approached the overhang entrance of the hotel, a guard stepped forward and opened Ambassador Rice’s door. Duncan unfastened his seat belt and then got out of the vehicle; he was already running late for his meeting, and he hated to be late.

“Too many road detours,” he grumbled to himself.

Duncan had flown in from Washington the night before and would be flying back to Washington tomorrow, once he had a chance to speak with the various parties he had arranged meet with. For the past four months, Duncan had been working with a small group of diplomats and security experts at the State Department and the National Security Council to try and bring an end to the war. Once it had become clear the Russians were not going to surrender and the President had made the decision that regime change was the only acceptable outcome, his task had changed dramatically. Now Ambassador Rice’s primary task was working with prodemocratic and anti-Petrov groups within Russia and Ukraine.

After a quick check by security, Ambassador Duncan was led into a room where Prime Minister Groysman waited for him. The PM stood and extended a hand and a warm smile. “It is good to see you, Duncan. I miss the frequent talks we used to have before all this craziness started. Can I get you a cup of coffee?” he inquired.

Smiling at the thought of some hot java, Rice nodded. Once they both had their drinks, they sat down in a pair of comfortable chairs with a coffee table between them.

“I wanted to ask you how things are going here in Ukraine — how are the people holding up?” Duncan inquired. He had been the ambassador to Ukraine, so he still felt something for the country and its people.

“Honestly, it has been hard,” Groysman admitted. “Many people have friends and loved ones trapped on the wrong side of the battle lines. Many more have lost loved ones from the fighting as well, especially in the major cities. While the entire country has not been turned into trench warfare, it is still too dangerous for people to try and drive between the two warring parties. Life has been difficult but thanks to the generosity of the American people, at least we have natural gas and food to get us through the winter.”

The two men talked for another hour before Duncan brought up the name Alexei Kasyanov. “What do you know about Alexei, if anything?”

Groysman smiled ever so slightly at the mention. “I know he is probably the one person that Petrov would fear most if he could run for political office. Since Petrov has postponed the election until the war has ended, I would suspect Alexei will try to run. I also suspect that Petrov will do what he can to have him disqualified through the courts,” the PM replied before taking another sip of his coffee. He noticed he had run out and signaled for one of his guards to have some more brought in, along with some sandwiches.

“So, in other words, you like him,” Duncan said coyly.

“You guys are going to go for regime change in Russia, aren’t you? That’s why you haven’t tried to attack yet?” Groysman probed.

Holding up his hands in mock surrender, Rice responded, “I can neither confirm nor deny that Washington will seek regime change after we win this war. What I am at liberty to say is that our forces will resume offensive operations once they are ready.”

There was a knock at the door. One of the security guards opened it slightly, checking to see that it was in fact the food and coffee they had ordered. As the guard brought the rolling table with the food on it to them, they continued their conversation.

“I still cannot believe Petrov invaded the Nordic countries,” Groysman commented. “Attacking the Baltic states was no surprise, but invading Norway and Finland… can you tell me if you guys are going to stop them from taking Lithuania or wait until they reach the Polish border?”

The guard who brought the rolling table placed it between them and then left the room. Prime Minister Groysman smiled at the aroma of fresh coffee wafting around them. He reached over and grabbed the coffeepot to pour them each a fresh cup.

As the PM lifted his hand, Duncan noticed a small wire had been attached to the bottom of the ornate coffeepot. Duncan immediately shouted, “Stop!” but it was too late.

A loud thunderous boom sounded, and a fireball expanded outward, killing everyone in hotel the room before they even knew what had happened.

Across the street, a man wearing a hotel uniform stripped his jacket off and changed out of his pants and into a neatly pressed suit. He proceeded to put his new pants, shirt, and jacket on when he heard the loud rumble of the explosion. He paused for a second, smiling at his handiwork.

He had spent the better part of four months infiltrating the security of the hotel to get to this moment. The fact that the PM was meeting with a US ambassador only made the moment of their death that much more satisfying. After changing into his new outfit, the man who had designed the bomb inside the rolling table cart hailed a cab that would take him to the train station. He was on his way to his next target — London.

The weather report said that the D.C. area was supposed to get close to twelve inches of snow today, prompting all nonessential government operations to close for the day. The President was lost in a moment of tranquility as he watched the snow outside his window blanket the city; it was so calm and serene.

This peace was rudely interrupted when the phone on his desk rang. Turning his chair around to look at the phone, he saw that the call was coming from the Secretary of State. Then, his Chief of Staff walked into the room and immediately turned on the TV.

With the phone still ringing, Retired General Liam Greeson asserted, “Mr. President, there’s been an explosion in Ukraine. It’s bad.”

The image of a hotel with multiple fires bursting through blown-out windows filled the entire screen.

Picking up the phone, Gates answered in a matter-of-fact tone, “This is the President.”

“Mr. President, I just received word that Ambassador Duncan Rice was meeting with Prime Minister Groysman when a bomb was detonated, killing them both. We still don’t have any word on what type of bomb was used, or how it got into the room they were meeting in, but we do know it was not a result of Russian artillery, rockets, or air strikes. It was an inside job,” Johnson said.

Suddenly saddened by realization that Ambassador Rice had perished, the President softly replied, “Thank you for letting me know. If you can, I would like to call Ambassador Rice’s wife later today. He was a voice of reason in these troubled times, and I am going to greatly miss his expertise and friendship,” Gates said.

They spoke for a few more moments before the President concluded his call.

As he watched the TV images of the hotel, it was clear it was a fairly large bomb that had gone off — more than enough to kill everyone in the room and those next to it.

A reporter narrated, “Reports are that twelve people were killed and another 37 injured during the blast. Still no information yet on the cause of the blast that killed the Prime Minister and an American diplomat, but it is suspected that Russian intelligence may have been involved.”

“Turn it off, please,” Gates instructed. “We’ve seen enough. Keep an eye on the situation and let me know if anything major is discovered. Otherwise, I’m heading up to the residence. I want some time alone to think.”

The President stood up. It was clear the death of Ambassador Rice had shaken him. The two had become close, even good friends, over the last four months. Duncan had met with the Director of the CIA, JP, on multiple occasions and had been a real help in determining who could potentially replace President Petrov. It had been Duncan’s idea for how to reshape not just Russia, but China as well.

“I can’t believe he’s dead,” Gates thought in despair. “I was going to make him the provisional administrator for Russia to work with the new government once the war was over. This is a terrible loss.”

He climbed the stairs to the residence. He needed some time alone and to be with his family.