Eagle, I don't want to form an alliance anymore.

She stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the street through the fogged-up glass. A long queue had formed again in front of the state-owned store downstairs—it was seven o'clock in the evening, and the store was still open. Rumor had it that a batch of imported sausages had arrived today, and half the neighborhood was out lining up. The queue stretched from the store entrance all the way to the tram stop on the street corner.

“But look at those people,” Director Nian said, “they’re lining up to buy sausages. If this country can let them buy sausages without lining up, the regime’s legitimacy is half there. But if it means making ten fewer missiles to let them buy sausages—the decision-makers won’t agree to that, because without those ten missiles, they’re afraid NATO tanks will be at the gates of Moscow tomorrow.”

"What a stupid vicious cycle. Why don't we learn from Gorbachev and just use shock therapy to blow him up?"

"Then the free world can pop champagne a few years earlier, bro."

I need to take a day off for a business trip.

As the title suggests, my advisor arranged for me to make an urgent trip to the neighboring campus this morning. I just took the high-speed train back to our campus. I'll finish this tomorrow.

Will they win in Chapter 13?

In the following weeks, Rislava visited several more military industrial enterprises, from tank factories to aircraft engine factories to various parts factories. The situation was similar in each one: the military production lines were operating well, while the civilian production lines were like stepchildren—having targets but no quality, having output but no sales channels.

He met many people in these factories—workshop directors, chief engineers, and technical section chiefs—some of whom were almost openly dissatisfied with the status quo, although the majority of them were indifferent and gave up.

Many of them are not only excellent technicians, but also people with ideas. A few senior personnel know that the alliance's military industrial system is falling behind the times, and some people in the military also know that the Americans have taken the lead in information technology and precision guidance. They know that if reforms are not carried out, big problems will arise sooner or later.

Among these people, a significant number mentioned the same name: Ogarkov.

Marshal Nikolai Vasilyevich Ogarkov, Chief of the General Staff, was a reformist general in the Allied military and an advocate of the theory of military technological revolution. He argued that the Soviet Army must shift from a traditional warfare model that relied on the number of tanks to a modern warfare model centered on information technology. To this end, his differences with Defense Minister Ustinov were almost an open secret.

Of course, they hadn't completely broken ties yet; he wasn't ousted until 1982 because of the Afghan issue.

“It’s impossible for you to meet Marshal Ogarkov, but you can join some of his project teams and work on it slowly.” Vorobyov once asked him on the phone—this lieutenant colonel, whom he had met in Iraq, had become Slava’s most important contact in military circles.

"Tsk...it's taking too long..." Time is exactly what Slava needs right now.

“Look on the bright side, at least September is the right time,” Vorobyov said. “Marshal Ogarkov will be in charge of the Western 81 exercise. All the generals in the army will be there, and you will be able to reach him more easily there than anywhere else.”

"Could you help me get into his project team? As for me... Comrade Yuri Vladimirovich will definitely approve it, and he's also interested in contacting you." Slava thought for a moment; Andropov would definitely support him.

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone.

"I'll think of something," Vorobyov said before hanging up.

One evening a week later, Slava stood at the window of his apartment, watching the Moscow summer sun, which seemed reluctant to set, bathe the Khrushchev Building across the street in a golden-red hue.

Children were playing football in the yard downstairs, and someone was hanging bed sheets to dry on the balcony. An old woman came out of the state-run store carrying a net bag containing two bottles of milk and a loaf of black bread.

An ordinary life, an ordinary evening in the suburbs of Moscow.

His experiences over the past year have peeled back the layers of his understanding of this country, revealing deeper problems with each layer. Corruption is the surface, technological backwardness is the symptom, and now the root cause has been uncovered in this self-enclosed system built around military needs, incapable of self-correction. What will happen next?

Now, what limits him from taking further action is no longer his will and determination, but power.

He needs power, time, supporters, and a clear alternative!

Andropov has power—or will soon have power. Time? His kidney disease won't wait. Supporters? Military reformers might be a breakthrough. Alternatives? Still in his mind, vaguely conceived.

But at least one thing is certain: the Western 81 exercise a few months from now will be a crucial juncture.

Director Nian came over from the kitchen with two cups of tea and handed him one.

“Vorobyov’s on the phone, my brother, your opportunity has arrived.”

Slava quickly moved to the phone: "This is Velikoslav Ivanovich Ivanov. How's the matter going?"

Vorobyov's voice was low, as if he were making a secret call in his office: "I showed the part of your report about the outdated communication system to my superiors."

"Who did you show it to?"

“A deputy chief of the General Staff Operations Department, surnamed Kuznetsov—don’t be alarmed, he’s not the bureaucrat type; he’s technically inclined, he used to teach at the Signal Corps Academy. After reading your report, he asked me a question, guess what?”

"I bet he wants to see me!" Slava's smile was even harder to suppress than AK's.

"Congratulations on guessing right, Velikoslav! Remember to buy me a drink later!"

"Don't worry, don't worry, I got a few bottles of strong liquor from Dongdong Rome. We're like brothers, so I'll make sure you're satisfied, haha!"

Slava's heart was beating faster than usual. If the landline phone hadn't been so far away, he really wanted to share his joy with Director Nian.

That's the General Staff, the brain of the Allied Armed Forces! The fact that someone at that level was interested in his report meant that things were going in the direction Andropov wanted, but it also meant that he was about to enter a battlefield far more complex than Uzbekistan or Baghdad—the power game in Moscow.

"By the way, the project team started a while ago. It's about improving the communication system on the front lines in Afghanistan. The General Staff and several military research institutes are working on it together. The problems you mentioned in your report—command delays, one-way information flow, lack of real-time situational awareness—people are dying every day in Afghanistan because of these trivial matters. Kuznetsov took your report to his superiors, and they just happened to have this project and needed to find a few people with ideas from outside to join."

"The KGB's General Staff accepted it so readily?"

Vorobyov chuckled on the other end of the phone: "The KGB and the General Staff already have a lot of cooperation in electronic warfare and signals intelligence. There are plenty of joint working groups like this. You can come in as a KGB technical advisor, which is perfectly legitimate."

He lowered his voice and added, "And Kuznetsov is Marshal Ogarkov's man."

P.S.: This Kuznetsov is not Nikolai Gerasimovich Kuznetsov, the naval veteran who passed away in 1974.

---

Andropov's reaction upon hearing the news from the General Staff was, in the words of Director Nian, that the old fox had finally gotten his prey delivered to his doorstep.

He wasn't willing to let the protagonist join the group alone; he wanted to extend his reach into the military, which naturally required a lot more work.

So he first submitted an application for a joint working group to the Ministry of Defense through the KGB's official channels, ostensibly to "strengthen technical cooperation between our ministry and the General Staff in the field of electronic warfare," thus giving Slava a legitimate pass into the General Staff system.

In mid-May, the joint working group was formally established. The group leader was Major General Kuznetsov of the General Staff Operations Department, and the members included several engineers from the Main Directorate of Signals, technical experts from two military research institutes, an associate professor from the Frunze Military Academy, and Slava—whose title was Special Advisor to the Technical Bureau of the State Security Committee.

Slava didn't even bother to remember the project's name; everyone just called it the communications project.

The first joint working meeting was held in a conference room on the second basement floor of the General Staff building. The conference room was small, without windows, with fluorescent lights humming overhead, and a map of the alliance and a topographical map of Afghanistan hanging on the wall.

Kuznetsov sat at one end of the table and spent about half an hour introducing the background and objectives of the project: the command and communication problems on the front lines in Afghanistan had seriously affected combat efficiency, and the General Staff needed a system that could still achieve real-time two-way communication between units at the company level and above in complex terrain conditions such as mountains and deserts.

"In short, I'm not asking you to build new equipment," Kuznetsov, a short general in his fifties, spoke very quickly, frequently drawing diagrams on paper with a pencil, crumpling them up and throwing them away before drawing another one, leaving a pile of crumpled paper scattered on the table.

“We are aware of the problems with the existing R-123 and R-130 series radios, but it is impossible to replace them in the short term – there is no budget or production capacity. What we need is a transitional solution: can we improve communication efficiency by networking, relaying, and encryption based on the existing equipment?”

The other members began reporting on the current state of technology in their respective fields, while Slava listened attentively, taking copious notes. These individuals were actually quite skilled; some even possessed expertise in communications engineering that he greatly admired—the problem was never a lack of talent within the alliance, but rather that talent was trapped in a system that prevented them from fully utilizing their abilities.

When it was Slava's turn to speak, he didn't go into too much technical detail, since he wasn't a professional himself, so he drew a diagram on the blackboard.

The diagram is simple. The top part shows the traditional Soviet command and communication structure—a tree-like hierarchical diagram, from army group to division to regiment to battalion to company, with information flowing downwards and orders being transmitted from top to bottom. Next to this tree, he drew another diagram: a network structure where each node is connected to other nodes, allowing information to be directly transmitted between any two nodes.

“This is our current system on the left,” he said, pointing to the tree diagram. “This is a simplified model of the C3I architecture that the Americans are working on. The difference lies in the way information flows. In our system, information flows from top to bottom. Lower-level units don’t know what neighboring units are doing, and higher-level units don’t know the real-time situation on the front lines—every piece of information has to climb the entire tree before it reaches the person who needs it. But in the network structure, a battalion commander can directly see the location and status of his two flank units without having to go through the regimental headquarters.”

He put down the chalk and dusted off his hands.

"I know that with the current equipment, it is impossible for us to build a complete mesh communication system in the short term. But we can do one thing—graft local horizontal communication capabilities onto the existing hierarchical structure. For example, we can add a simple data sharing terminal at the battalion level, so that several adjacent battalions can directly exchange position and situation information without going through the regimental headquarters. This does not require replacing the radios with new ones, but only adding a relay node and a simple data protocol."

There was a silence in the meeting room for about five seconds. Kuznetsov didn't speak, but he stopped spinning the pencil in his hand—Slava later learned that when Kuznetsov's pencil stopped spinning, it meant he was listening attentively.

“Continue.” Kuznetsov nodded.

Slava spoke at length over the next half hour, some of which he “borrowed” from later military theories, some of which were his actual observations on the front lines in Iraq, and some of which were his own ideas.

He certainly didn't dare to speak too far ahead of his time—if a Soviet technical advisor from 1981 were to spout off things like "data link," "battlefield internet," or "distributed command and control," the scene would be more like a mental evaluation than a meeting—so he packaged all the concepts as improved versions of existing technologies, using only concepts that were understandable in this era.

Even so, what he said was still at least ten years ahead of any plan that most of the people present had ever heard, and even the formation of the US military's information system was validated during the Gulf War.

After the meeting, Kuznetsov kept him behind alone.

"Your ideas are very close to the direction that Nikolai Vasilyevich has been pushing forward. Have you met him?"

The fact that Marshal Ogarkov's name was mentioned right off the bat suggests that Kuznetsov is no ordinary man either; he's probably in Ogarkov's inner circle as well.

"not yet."

“Hmm.” Kuznetsov pushed the completed diagram in front of Slava—the diagram was a draft of the command and communication architecture for the Western 81 exercise, which had many similarities to the mesh structure that Slava had just drawn on the blackboard. “The September exercise will be personally commanded by Marshal Ogarkov. He wants to try some new things in the exercise.”

He drew a circle on the drawing with a pencil at a certain spot.

"We need a unit to act as our adversary—the Blue Army—to simulate NATO tactics. Marshal Ogarkov's point is that this Blue Army cannot fight according to our traditional thinking; it must truly embody the characteristics of NATO operations—informatization, high mobility, and precision strikes. Your assistant contacted us through your department's channels a couple of days ago, saying that you are interested in forming such a unit."

Slava silently credited Director Nian for his contribution. While he was buried in technical solutions within the project team, Director Nian was working on another front—using KGB channels to contact people in the General Staff, gradually pushing forward the idea of ​​"building an informationized blue force in the Western 81 exercise." The two lines were advancing simultaneously, one through technology and the other through relationships, and finally they converged with Kuznetsov.

“We do have this idea,” Slava nodded. “Some of the project team’s achievements—the prototype of the data sharing terminal and the horizontal communication protocol—would be more convincing than any paper assessment if they could be tested in actual combat exercises.”

“The idea is good,” Kuznetsov said, putting his pencil back into his breast pocket. His expression became complicated, the kind of composure a pragmatic soldier has before delivering bad news.

“But Moscow is not just the General Staff, Ivanov.”

------

The events of the next two months allowed Slava to witness once again the struggles within the core of the alliance's power structure.

The initial Blue Force plan was a brigade—a large force of approximately 6,000 personnel, equipped with a number of armored vehicles and electronic equipment, with technical support provided by the project team, playing the role of a NATO advance force in the exercise. This plan was drafted by Kuznetsov, supported by Ogarkov, and was entirely reasonable from a military perspective.

But things started to go wrong after the plan was submitted to the Ministry of Defense. The first person to object was a henchman in the Ministry of Defense’s General Office, a close associate of Minister Ustinov. He suggested reducing the size of the Blue Force to a reinforced battalion, arguing that “the exercise budget has already been finalized, and adding more Blue Force personnel would lead to budget overruns.”

Slava initially thought this was just normal bureaucratic wrangling—every system has these middle-level managers whose job is to create speed bumps between top-down decisions and bottom-up execution. But Director Nian quickly helped him figure out the real situation.

"Bullshit budget issue! Let me put it this way, budget issues only exist at the grassroots level. In the power center, the budget is just a number they fill in with a pen. It's essentially a political issue."

That night in the apartment, while peeling an apple, Director Nian said, "Ustinov and his gang weren't against the Blue Army itself; they were against Andropov interfering in the military through the KGB. KGB people appearing in the General Staff's working group, and they even want to set up an informationized force to participate in the largest exercise in the entire army? Put yourself in Ustinov's position and think about what they're trying to do."

"But this is clearly Ogarkov's idea, how could he possibly suppress Lao O?"

"Ogarkov is indeed the Chief of the General Staff, but above him is the Minister of Defense. The differences between Ustinov and Ogarkov on military reform are an open secret—Ustinov is the spokesperson for the military-industrial complex; he made his fortune by manufacturing tanks and missiles. Would he agree to this?"

The guide cut the peeled apple in half and handed one half to Slava.

"And then there's Chernenko—although he himself doesn't know much about the military, he knows that Andropov is in contact with military reformers. He has his own friends in the Politburo, and through these people he puts pressure on the Ministry of Defense to prevent Andropov from overstepping his bounds."

Grishin was also stirring things up, and Romanov wasn't idle either—in short, everyone who could potentially become the next General Secretary was closely watching Andropov's every move.

Slava took a bite of the apple and squinted at the sourness—no apple in the Moscow state store was anything but sour.

"So the Blue Army was reduced to a battalion because this battalion's organization wouldn't cause any major trouble—a few hundred people wouldn't even make a ripple in a large-scale exercise involving hundreds of thousands of people. This way, Ogarkov's face was saved, and Andropov's position in the military wasn't truly secured. All interests were taken care of, and everyone was happy."

“Where’s the Happy Bull Demon?” Director Nian threw the apple core into the trash can. “What can a battalion demonstrate? Damn it, I spent over a month running around pulling strings, and they changed it like this with just one sentence! Damn it—the plans we designed require at least a regiment to truly work—horizontal data sharing, multi-node collaboration, electronic warfare support, these things simply can’t be implemented within the framework of a battalion!”

“So we have to find a way to maximize the effect within the framework of a battalion,” Slava said, knowing the workload of Director Nian. He washed his hands, gave Director Nian a hug, and dried his wet hands on her back.

“Everyone can perform magic tricks. Although we are given a battalion, there is no rule that this battalion must be organized in the traditional way. We can redefine the organization, equipment, and tactics of this battalion—as long as the final effect makes Ogarkov feel that this is worth promoting, one battalion is enough.”

PS: I'm reminded of the legendary achievements of a Ukrainian Star Force company in the NATO exercises earlier this year. How did those European flying crews become like this? I'm so angry and cold.

------

One day in late June, Slava was stopped by a major in a corridor on the third floor of the General Staff building.

“Velikoslav Ivanovich Ivanov?” The major checked the list and photos in his hand. “Please come with me, the Marshal wants to see you.”

Slava followed him through several security gates and up two floors, finally stopping in front of a small but tastefully furnished office. The major knocked, opened the door a crack, whispered a few words, and then stepped aside to let Slava in.

There are two people in the office.

He recognized the man sitting behind the table—Kuznetsov, his project leader. He didn't recognize the man standing by the window, but he knew immediately who he was.

The man was very tall and upright, wearing a general's uniform but without any medals. If Brezhnev were here, he would have had an obsessive-compulsive disorder attack and died of a heart attack on the spot.

His hair was gray, his face was angular, his nose was high, and his eyes were deep-set. He looked older than his actual age. That was Nikolai Vasilyevich Ogarkov.

"Is this the person who wrote that report?" Ogarkov glanced at Slava.

"Yes, Comrade Marshal," Kuznetsov said.

“Young,” Ogarkov’s gaze lingered on Slava for two or three seconds, and he frowned slightly after seeing Slava’s height and build of 1.65 meters. “A KGB man.”

"Yes, Comrade Marshal!" This time, Slava answered himself, and gave a salute.

Ogarkov didn't dwell on the topic. He walked to the table, pulled out a few pages from a stack of documents—Slava recognized them as the Blue Force operational concept plan he had written for the project team—turned to one page, and pointed to a passage on it with his finger.

"Here, you wrote—'The decisive advantage on the future battlefield will no longer come from firepower density or armor thickness, but from the speed difference in information acquisition and decision-making. A force that can detect targets faster, transmit intelligence faster, and make decisions faster than its opponent may achieve a decisive victory in local battles, even if it is inferior in manpower and firepower.'"

He looked up at Slava.

How long did you stay in Iraq?

"About three weeks, Comrade Marshal."

“Three weeks, sure.” Ogarkov put the few pages of paper back on the table, walked to the large-scale military map on the wall, stood with his hands behind his back, and said, “You can write something like this in three weeks! I’ve been pushing for a military technology revolution in the General Staff for five years, and I’ve written countless reports and memoranda, but I’ve always been suppressed by those people!”

He paused.

“I’ve looked at your Blue Team plan—the idea is good, but the scale has been cut too small. A battalion’s organization can only do so much.”

"I know, Comrade Marshal, but under the current conditions—"

“Conditions are created by people!” Ogarkov interrupted him. “The conditions I’m giving you won’t be more than a battalion—politically, it’s impossible—but how this battalion is used, organized, and fought is up to me! Not those office workers in the Ministry of Defense’s General Office!”

He walked up to Slava and stood in front of him. The two were so close that Slava could smell the camphor and faint tobacco scent on his uniform.

"I'm transferring you from the project team to my exercise command. You'll be responsible for designing the Blue Force's operational concept, working with several of my staff officers to develop the Blue Force's organizational structure, communication architecture, tactical procedures—everything related to information warfare, understand?"

“But my rank—” Slava was not refusing, but it was almost unthinkable in the tradition of the Soviet army for a KGB civilian officer without rank to guide the operational plans of a battalion.

Ogarkov glanced at him, his lips twitching slightly. Then he returned to his desk, sat down, and took a document from his drawer, handing it to Slava—it was a transfer order, already signed and stamped.

"You don't need to worry about that. Report to Leningrad tomorrow, and my people will arrange your specific work. The equipment for the exercise troops is at another base, so you may have to travel between the two."