The Last Call The World Heard
Nothing would ever be the same.
Mikhael Kurpov violently pounded the desk in front of him.
“You’ll do what?!?” He shouted with indignation in his tone.
“In 37 years since I’ve known you, you’d never talked to me like that!” “Have you lost your mind??”
On the other side of the line, Raymond Gomez-Carrillo, the president of the US, reiterated what Mikhael perceived as the threat.
He can’t stop the NATO alliance from invading Crimea.
“Mikhael, you need to listen to me. Poland is ashes, the Finns are terrified they’re next” “What am I supposed to do?” “I can’t contain my people after the latest developments; put yourself in my shoes!”
“Don’t blame Poland on me! Just don’t!” “Whose idiotic idea was to turn on 3 nuclear plants in a war zone?” “Did they think that was a great deterrent?” Mikhael continued.
And he added, “Lithuania and Belarus went after one another, and you allowed that to happen, cause you thought that way you can put the blame on me and finish us by association,” “But as it turns out, you forgot that small detail, didn’t you?”
“You had nuclear reactors all around that area.” “Don’t you dare threaten me!”
Gomez-Carrillo knew NATO miscalculated and made a terrible decision but he couldn’t admit it. Not without losing face with everyone listening to the conversation.
The one that most likely would decide the fate of planet Earth.
“It’s not too late to negotiate,” “Why lose it all if the damage is done, Mikhael?” “Shouldn’t we think ahead and salvage what we still can?”
“How!? It’s so easy for you to say, but NATO's incendiary bombs have been falling on Moscow for 10 days now!! You have taken out my Baltic fleet of nuclear subs just hours ago, and you want to “negotiate”??”
“Yes,” Yes, I do” “We do”. We have to stop this madness!” “Now! — before it’s too late.”
“Ok. Blow up YOUR subs, then maybe we can talk a truce.”
And he hung up.
There’s no denying Europe is burning. Every able body is being mobilized. The trains stopped running for the general population; only heavy armament, artillery pieces, and plane parts were on board 24/7.
Poland blew up to such a degree that now nuclear winds are spreading radiation toward the West, not Russia.
But the damage was immense. 60–75 % of the Polish population is lethally contaminated or severely radioactive.
Germany is in total chaos. Only the few ones that enjoy having bunkers on their property are trying to stay alive. There’s no way to stop the incoming radiation. Hordes of people are running around trying to buy anything non-perishable and bottled water is the biggest luxury.
No European country is untouched by the situation and since the banking system has all but collapsed, trading for goods is the only other option. Guns, ammunition, tobacco, and alcohol are the biggest commodities after edibles and water. Nothing else has any value.
Nothing.
The red phone rings in the oval office.
It’s the Russian High Command asking military questions. The conversation between them and the US Secretary of State lasted 1:22 seconds.
The Russians hung up first.
There’s a no-fly zone worldwide, so everyone in govt is on Zoom or Skype to communicate in non-secure, hardly confidential semi-encrypted lines.
Top Secret dialogue was all conducted through the NSA.
That’s exactly where the president is, talking to the State Department, the DoD, and the Pentagon. All at once.
Surprisingly enough, there’s no panic among the American public. As far as they’re concerned, this is mostly a European problem. The TV channels also help with the disinformation of those distorted beliefs. Calm needed to remain as long as possible, so the streets wouldn’t close and the military had unimpeded access to the roads.
In Moscow, the phone rings in the huge bunker where the high command, including Mikhael Kurpov, have the tech needed to exercise the necessary call to arms or whatever else was appropriate at the time.
“Hello,”…
Gomez-Carrillo replies, “Hello, Mikhael. You have to believe me when I tell you it is not the US bombing Moscow, it’s not!” “My people are convinced it is a Franco-British black op.”
“I don’t give a flying duck!” Shouts Mikhael. “They are NATO, you are NATO!” “Where does that leave us?”
“We are addressing the situation and I can personally guarantee you….”
“Mikhael yells and pounds on the table again: “Nothing! Nothing you can tell me is a guarantee of anything!” “You have started WWIII, first by throwing Ukraine under the bus, and now you’ve done the same to Europe and you want to give me your word and guarantee, to what? For what!?”
“We will repay you for every single sub we sank, Mikhael, and the consequences it may have caused.”
“Money…” Mikhael retorts. “You think you can fix everything with money.”
“Please, allow my indiscretion, if you would…. But, ‘what’ money!?!
“You’re almost in default, 32 Trillion in debt!” “Your international credit was just downgraded. What money??”
“Do you have…rubles?”
Everyone was making an effort not to laugh, but truly, that was pretty comical. Mikhael had a point and more.
He was right.
“Mr President. The Russian ruble from the new Bric currency is the only thing that will have value, paper-money wise. Bric money will be the only valuable currency in circulation. Once you manage to fix somewhat what you so easily destroyed.”
“The Africans and the Saudis are coming on board too. Are you gonna bomb them as well, Mr President?” He said with the most thinly-veiled sarcasm possible in his tone.
“Anything to save the world, Mikhael. What else can I say? No more war. No more bloodshed, no more bombs, Mikhael. I mean it. Enough, please!”
“It’s enough…” his voice cracked and his energy drained.
The air was getting heavy with drama, suspense, and supercharged emotion.
At that very moment, a gunshot was heard coming from the Russian side.
Later on, an official statement by the Russian High Command confirmed that Mikhael Kurpov, the president of the Russian Federation was assassinated in the bunker by a lone gunman. A top general of the Russian Army who immediately hung up the phone and ended the call with the American president.
It’s well-written as always; and the subject matter... equally panic-stirring.
It’s plausible. God help us, if we DO go to war like this! Your imagination is dead-on. If you add some isolation in the USA, though surely, we won’t fall for that again... who knows what we’ll be told to do this next time(!)
Everyone is telling me they will make the shots available again. I yell back, “(they) better not (make inoculations) happen in September! I’ll be in the crowd not flying!”