[War] Russia: "Winter's End"

[Michael Downey]

"Winter's End"
President Leonid Nemerenko
Russian Federation
7 March 2013
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It was still winter in Russia but the temperature was rising slightly
every day. Spring would arrive in a month or two. To Leonid Nemerenko,
that seemed very fitting. A warm rebirth after a chilly freeze.

"Perhaps this time it will not be so badly bungled," Nemerenko said to
himself. Prime Minister Anton Koretsky gave Nemerenko a curious look
from the other side of the sitting room they now occupied. His
political ally had an odd habit of thinking aloud, which was
exceptionally strange in such a deceitful and secretive profession as
politics.

"What are you thinking about, Leonid?"

"This is a great country, Anton," said Nemerenko, turning away from
the window that gave him a perfect view of Red Square. "And when I was
a young man and saw the Soviet flag come down off the Kremlin for the
last time, I had thought that we would be entering a new era of
prosperity and reform."

"Which we did not," finished Koretsky.

"No, we didn't. Yeltsin, and that blasted mobster Putin, thoroughly
dashed our hopes for a quick recovery from the CCCP's collapse. Nearly
twenty years of limited growth and slow improvement."

"I would say that the last few haven't been so bad," came a husky
voice as the door to the room was pulled open by the security guard
outside. Of course the room was bugged, but it still made Nemerenko
curious as to how the Old Man had picked up the last moment of their
conversation.

"President Severov," said Nemerenko, offering his hand to the older
Russian. Severov accepted Nemerenko's hand in a firm handshake, though
the look in his eyes was not entirely friendly.

"President Nemerenko." There was something of an ironic tone in
Severov's voice. "I really wish I had your campaign managers when I
was running for president. It would have made things go so much
smother. Mostly." He patted his left shoulder.

"I think it's a testament to all your work over the past four years
that my presidential election went as it did. Putin was elected by
over 70% in his second term, and you by 80% in 2009. I was elected
with just 48% of the popular vote. I like to think that such a
politically contested race is a sign that the democratic process is
becoming stronger in Russia. Not to mention there were not any other
irregularities."

Namely, Nemerenko had not been shot by a sniper as Severov had. The
old man still did not have full use of his left arm.

"I will admit Leonid, you are not my choice for President," observed
Severov as he eased himself into a padded armchair. "I was almost
tempted to vote for the CPRF candidate. Or Socialist Party of Russia
or whatever they're calling themselves now."

"Again, that our own party decided for itself who to nominate as the
RDP candidate and did not simply bend to the will of their current
leader shows that, in part anyway, the party system is getting
stronger. Not that I'm implying-"

"Yes, yes." Severov gave a dismissive wave. "And what about you,
Anton? How did things go in the Assembly?"

"Two hundred and fifteen seats in the Duma, ninety senators on the
Federation Council," replied the PM.

"Not quite a majority, but a strong showing regardless. I hope you're
able to keep them all in line."

Severov's whole meaning was plainly evident to both Nemerenko. Though
they were both part of the Russian Democratic Party and Nemerenko had
even been a deputy minister in Severov's cabinet, Nemerenko had always
criticized Severov late in his administration for being too slow and
too passive with many reforms. Even though the MVD had tried to
assassinate him under Putin, Severov had done little to reform the
federal security ministry. There was a long list of macroeconomic
reforms Nemerenko had pleaded for, and of course the mafia was as
powerful as it was four years ago.

"I'm sure the Prime Minister is fully capable," replied Nemerenko.
What was Severov up to?

"Leonid, I know you and I have not often seen eye to eye," began
Severov. "And I must admit, if I had been given sole power to choose
the RDP candidate, it would not have been you. But you were chosen,
and you have been elected. My time in office is over, and my only
request is that you continue all that I have done to try and rebuild
Russia."
---

 Russia. Would that word ever mean anything again? Several hours
later, it was almost as if Nemerenko was haunted by a thousand past
whispers of doubt. Russia had spent over a full century in utter
turmoil. The incompetent reign of the tzars, then most brutal regime
in human history under Stalin, the repressive Soviet leaders that had
succeeded him, and finally the social and economic dilapidation that
had dogged the Federation under its first two presidents.

Despite his criticism of Severov before he himself was in office,
Nemerenko had to admit the old man was probably one of the most
effective leaders in the past two centuries. The de facto dictatorship
Putin had established was pulled down, the government was moderately
less corrupt, the economy was somewhat back on track and the military
was slowly putting itself back together.

However a monumental task still lay before Nemerenko. The provincial
governments suffered varying levels of corruption, mafia organizations
that made Al-Qaeda look like a Boy Scout troop ran rampant in many
major cities, Chechnya was still in a state of low-level rebellion,
and the Federation still had to overcome several different
institutional stumbling blocks before the economy could begin to grow
again.

His train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the door followed
by the door itself opening a few moments later.

"Mr. Kalugin is here to see you, sir," said his secretary.

"Thank you Mischa, send him in."

The young woman vanished from view and a burley man with graying hair
entered into the office. He shut the door behind him without being
asked, a very common habit people who lived under the Soviet system
picked up as second nature.

"Mr. President," said Kalugin. Without invitation, he sat down in one
of the chairs in front of Nemerenko's desk. "I must admit, I am not
happy to see you behind that desk."

"You are not the only one, Vlad."

Kalugin smiled dryly. In the old days, whelps like Nemerenko were the
types the KGB's Second Chief Directorate, the body Kalugin had worked
for once upon a time, let cool in a gulag for a while before being
regulated to digging ditches or operating garbage trucks for the rest
of their lives.

"Still bitter over being dismissed as head of the SVR? Still blaming
me for convincing Severov to do it?" asked a bemused Nemerenko. "You
killed fifteen innocent Chechens to get one man. Your lucky Severov
gave you amnesty and covered the whole affair up. I would have sent
you to a nice little cell in Siberia."

"What's stopping you now?"

Nemerenko grimaced. He hated himself for what he had to do next.

"You are a ruthless man, Vlad. Remorseless, calculating, brutal at
times. But you are also intelligent and cunning. And most important,
not in someone's pocket. Which is why I want you to come work for my
government."

Of all the things that Nemerenko could have said, Kalugin was
certainly not expecting that. Visible shock melted through his usual
mask of neutrality.

"There are other capable men."

"None as capable as you, I'm sorry to say. You're a veteran agent of
the KGB and the SVR, and know every clandestine organ of the state
inside and out. Our security services need to be cleaned up if this
country is going to move any further ahead. I want you to be the new
head of the MVD."

Head of the Ministry of Internal Affairs was equivalent to being head
of the KGB during the days of the USSR; possibly the most powerful man
in the Federation after the President and PM.

"Do not think that I am in any way grooming you as a confidant or
successor," warned Nemerenko a second later. "I will be watching you
very carefully, and any repeats of what happened two years ago will
not be tolerated."

Kalugin thought about it. Nemerenko must have been very serious to
recruit a man he had dismissed as Russia's spymaster to be the new
head of domestic security. That or desperate. Perhaps a little of
both.

"I accept, of course," said Kalugin after another moment of pause.
"What will the Prime Minister say? As I recall, he fought with Severov
over my dismissal as much as you did."

"Anton is aware of what is going on," replied the President. "And
while he is not pleased with my choice of Internal Minister, he has
agreed to go along with it. That's all for the moment. The first
general meeting of the Cabinet will be tomorrow morning. I trust you
know the proper location."

"I do," said Kalugin, rising. "Thank you again, Mr. President."

Nemerenko said nothing as Kalugin exited. So many risks, but the goal
was worth it. Russia had to become a great nation again in the face of
a world that was as chaotic and dangerous as it was during the Cold
War. And if certain prices had to be paid, then so be it.