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

The Argentine flag continues to fly over Port Stanley.

In London, 10 Downing Street was shrouded in gloom, and the Conservative Party and Margaret Thatcher faced troubles far greater than defeat.

---

London, June 18.

The first to take to the streets were veterans' organizations and families of fallen soldiers—they carried photos of their loved ones smiling in military uniforms and held up signs as they marched down the street.

"Margaret, give me back my son's life!"

"Why should they die?" "The 253 sailors of HMS Sheffield didn't vote for you to send them to their deaths!"

By the afternoon, the crowds had spread from Whitehall to Trafalgar Square, Parliament Square, and outside Downing Street. It was no longer just military families—unemployed workers, miners, steelworkers—had arrived, and unions from Liverpool, Sheffield, and Birmingham had chartered buses to bring people to London, one busload at a time.

These people had their livelihoods destroyed by Thatcher's economic reforms over the past three years, their dignity stripped away by factory closures and shutdowns, and kept at bay by riot police shields. Now, the defeat in the Falklands War has given them an outlet to unleash all their pent-up anger!

"Thatcher step down!"

"Get the murderer out of Downing Street!" "Aren't three million unemployed enough? How many more people do you want to kill?"

The crowd's emotions reached a boiling point in the evening. Some began throwing bottles and stones at the Downing Street police cordon. Riot police raised their shields and formed a human wall, but the pressure from the crowd increased, and the metal fence made a harsh metallic scraping sound as it was pushed and shoved. Some more radical demonstrators climbed over the barricades and rushed towards Downing Street, clashing with the police.

Thatcher ordered the deployment of mounted police.

This is the most common scenario of the British government using mounted police against civilians on its own soil before the 1984 miners' strike—of course, the 1984 incident would not have happened in the same way in this timeline.

Police officers on tall horses pushed forward into the crowd, their hooves striking the asphalt with a rapid rhythm. The crowd was forced to retreat to the sides by the horses' charge, but some were pushed over, trampled, or kicked by the horses' hooves during the retreat.

A television camera captured an image that was later repeatedly published in newspapers around the world:

A middle-aged woman—later identified as the mother of a fallen sailor—was knocked to the ground by a mounted police horse. She was clutching a photograph of her son in his navy uniform, the young man in the photo smiling.

Bloodshed began to occur inevitably, with ambulance sirens blaring through the streets of London. The BBC's live broadcasts switched back and forth between mounted police charging into the crowd and civilians bleeding, and the whole of Britain and the world were watching.

---

Parliament held an emergency debate on June 19.

Labour leader Michael Foote launched a 40-minute tirade in the House of Commons in the most vehement tone he had never used in his decades-long parliamentary career. He called the Falklands War “a military adventure driven by arrogance and miscalculation,” the post-war repression “a second declaration of war by the Prime Minister against his own people,” and demanded that Thatcher resign immediately “for every young British man who died in the South Atlantic and every British citizen who bled in the streets of London!”

Most of the Conservative backbenchers sat silently in their seats, and no one stood up to defend Thatcher—this silence itself was the loudest verdict.

Several former Thatcher cabinet members even told reporters on television that "the Prime Minister should seriously consider her position."

In layman's terms, Thatcher needed to maintain her dignity, otherwise someone else would have to do it for her.

Buckingham Palace also issued a signal on the same day. The Queen conveyed a statement through her secretary: "Her Majesty the Queen is deeply concerned about the recent developments."

This is a rare move for the royal family to publicly express concern in the tradition of a constitutional monarchy, and it's tantamount to issuing a yellow card to the Prime Minister. Prince Andrew returned safely to Britain from HMS Invincible but refused to comment on the war in front of the media; his silence was interpreted as a silent rejection of Thatcher's policies by the royal family.

On June 22, Margaret Thatcher issued a brief statement at 10 Downing Street: "In light of the current situation, I have decided to resign as Prime Minister."

She mechanically read the statement, then walked through the black doors of 10 Downing Street. The doors closed behind her, shutting out the flashes and shouts of the reporters outside.

That afternoon, the Conservative Party hastily elected an interim leader internally—Foreign Secretary Pimm.

But everyone knew this was just a transitional phase, and a snap election was inevitable. Sure enough, the Labour Party won an overwhelming majority in the mid-July general election, and Michael Ford became the new Prime Minister.

Britain entered a long period of internal digestion. The new government had to simultaneously deal with the aftermath of the Falklands War, adjust its economic reform path, and repair a society torn apart by war and repression. Under these circumstances, Britain's participation within the NATO framework declined significantly—they simply couldn't spare the resources.

History took a turn here. Reagan lost one of his staunchest allies in Europe, and the Labour government would take a more moderate stance on nuclear disarmament and Soviet policy, while the deployment of Pershing II missiles in Europe would face greater resistance.

As for what Britain will do, only God knows.

---

Meanwhile, in the Middle East, another war is rewriting another chapter of history.

On June 6, the Israel Defense Forces launched a large-scale military operation in southern Lebanon, with tens of thousands of Israeli soldiers, supported by armored units and the air force, crossing the Lebanese border and advancing northward. The nominal objective of this war was to eliminate the PLO's armed forces in southern Lebanon, but Israeli Defense Minister Sharon's true ambitions went far beyond that—he wanted to reshape the entire political landscape of Lebanon.

For Moscow, the significance of this war extends beyond Middle Eastern geopolitics itself. The Syrian army's deployment of numerous Soviet-made air defense missile systems in the Bekaa Valley, including SA-6 and SA-2/3 mixed air defense positions, represents the largest-scale combat test of Soviet air defense technology outside the region.

On June 9, the Israeli Air Force launched a textbook strike against Syrian air defense missile sites in the Bekaa Valley.

The Israelis first used drones to fly into the range of Syrian air defense missiles to lure the radar into activating, and then used anti-radiation missiles to strike back along the radar beams and destroy the radar station. Immediately afterwards, fighter squadrons, under the cover of electronic warfare aircraft, carried out precision bombing of the air defense positions that had lost their sight.

The entire operation took less than two hours and destroyed 17 of Syria's 19 air defense missile batteries in the Bekaa Valley. At the same time, it shot down about 30 Syrian MiG-21 and MiG-23 fighter jets in the air battle, while the Israeli Air Force suffered zero losses.

The part about no damage.

When the news reached Moscow, the entire military fell silent. Their air defense missiles were like paper in the face of Israeli electronic warfare and drone tactics; the Soviet Air Force's mainstay MiG-21s and MiG-23s were shot down without even managing to exchange a single blow with Israel's F-15s and F-16s!

The Soviet Ministry of Defense convened an emergency meeting, at which Slava's report submitted during the Western 81 exercise last year was brought up again.

The real drama is about to begin within the Ministry of National Defense.

Chapter 23: The Signal of the Soviet Union's Thawing

At this moment, a pall of gloom hung over the Soviet Ministry of Defense. Both conservatives and reformers felt as if a dark future was weighing heavily on their chests.

The Falklands were far from the Soviet Union, and while the fates of Britain and Argentina were crucial to the grand strategy of the Cold War, they weren't a direct concern for the Soviet Union. But the Bekaa Valley was different—those anti-aircraft missile sites that the Israeli Air Force had so easily dismantled were all loaded with Soviet-made missiles!

SA-6, SA-2, and SA-3, their designations and models were exactly the same as those deployed on the Soviet Union's western border facing NATO. In less than two hours, seventeen of the nineteen anti-aircraft missile batteries were destroyed, and thirty MiG fighters were shot down, while the Israeli Air Force suffered zero losses—

"Alright, comrades, the new battle report is out. Today, our planes were shot down by the Israeli Air Force by more than twenty. Now the Syrian side has successfully achieved a kill ratio of 1 to 72." Chief of the General Staff Ogarkov pushed open the door and came in with a copy of the latest battle report.

The conference room was filled with the musty smell of sweat mixed with the stale odor emanating from the old carpet. Around the long conference table, a group of generals gathered—representatives from the General Staff, the Air Defense Force, the Air Force, the Army, and the Military Industry Commission were all present, their gloomy faces no different from the carpet itself.

After all, if Israel can use drones and electronic warfare to tear through Syria's air defense network, can NATO use the same method to tear through the Soviet Union's? If the MiG-21 and MiG-23 can't even achieve a kill ratio against the F-15 and F-16, what will the Soviet Air Force use to compete for air superiority in Central Europe?

Defense Minister Ustinov sat at one end of the table, with several documents spread out in front of him. One was a battle situation analysis report in the Bekaa Valley, and the other was an internal summary of last year's Western 81 exercise—it was unclear who had dug this document out of the archives again, and specifically turned to the appendix pages about the 117th Independent Battalion of the Blue Army.

Slava was not present. His rank was far too low to attend such a meeting. But Andropov was present—as a soon-to-be alternate member of the Politburo to be transferred to the Central Secretariat, he was qualified to attend discussions on major military decisions made by the Ministry of Defense.

Moreover, Andropov met with Slava the day before the meeting, read his brief memorandum about the Bekaa Valley twice, and then memorized the core ideas of the memorandum—these ideas would appear in the discussion at the meeting in Andropov's own words, and no one would know that those words originally came from the mouth of a KGB civilian who did not even have the rank of second lieutenant.

The first to break the silence was Air Force Deputy Commander-in-Chief General Yefimov, who essentially said that the electronic warfare tactics used by the Israelis "exceeded our expectations," that the Syrian operators were seriously undertrained, and that the Soviet-made air defense systems themselves remained reliable under normal operating conditions.

The conservatives' classic death throes: it's not a problem of equipment, it's that the Syrians are too incompetent.

Ogarkov countered: "The decisive advantage on the future battlefield will no longer come from firepower density or armor thickness, but from the difference in the speed of information acquisition and decision-making response."

Ten months ago! Ten months ago, we already saw the rudiments of informationized warfare in our own exercises. A battalion using five terminals and two rudimentary drones made a tank division spend almost an extra day on the southern flank. Ten months later, what the Israelis are doing in the Bekaa Valley is essentially the same thing—only they're doing it more thoroughly, more sophisticatedly, and more lethally!

Stop being so stubborn! Information technology reform is urgently needed and must begin immediately!

Everyone in the conference room heard it clearly, including Ustinov, who was sitting at the other end of the table.

“And the problem isn’t that the Syrians aren’t well-trained,” Ogarkov continued. “The problem is that our entire air defense system—from radar early warning to command and communications to fire coordination—is still stuck in the mindset of countering traditional air strikes.”

The Israelis used drones to lure our radar into activation, then fired anti-radiation missiles back along the radar beam—the whole process took less than fifteen minutes. Our air defense system had no contingency plans for this tactic, no countermeasures, and wasn't even aware of what was happening before the attack—because our information processing speed couldn't keep up with the pace of their actions.

“Excuse me, Comrade Chief of the General Staff,” a deputy director of the Military-Industrial Committee interjected. He never found out the man’s last name, Slava, but he knew that he was a staunch supporter of Ustinov.

“What you’ve said may make sense from a technical point of view, but what is the solution? We can’t replace the entire military’s air defense system in the short term, nor can we build drones like Israel’s overnight. The urgent task is to improve the performance of existing equipment—accelerate the deployment of the S-300 system, increase production of MiG-29s and Su-27s, and promote the construction of large-deck aircraft carriers—these are the things that are tangible and visible.”

Ogarkov's lips twitched.

“Yes, I understand. The S-300 is good, the MiG-29 and Su-27 are good, and the aircraft carrier is good,” he said, his tone calmer than before. “But if we put all our resources into building better shields and faster warhorses, instead of thinking about how to enable these shields and warhorses to share information, coordinate operations, and respond in real time—then we will repeat the Syrians’ mistakes in the next Bekaa Valley. The only difference is that this time it will be us, not Syria, that gets attacked.”

The temperature in the conference room seemed to rise a few degrees. A lieutenant general from the Air Defense Force was clearly dissatisfied with the phrase "repeating the same mistakes." He opened his mouth as if to refute something, but was pulled back to his seat by someone next to him.

The army representative's expression was basically one of indifference. The Bekaa Valley offensive was a blow to the air defense system and the air force, and the exchange of casualties between the Syrian T-72s and the Israeli Merkava tanks was quite good. The fact that the T-72s could still take down the Merkava tanks even after losing air superiority proves that the tanks are still capable.

Ustinov remained silent throughout, observing the situation and weighing the pros and cons. He neither sided with Ogarkov nor with the military-industrial complex, waiting until both sides had revealed their cards before making the final decision.

Ustinov also knew that informatization was the future trend, but he did not intend to take the risk for it during his term.

After all, how many more years can a 74-year-old defense minister wait? What he needs to do is ensure that the interests of the military-industrial complex are not harmed before he retires, and that tanks that need to be built continue to be built and aircraft carriers that need to be constructed continue to be constructed—as for reforms like information technology that require ten or twenty years to take effect, he can leave that to the next administration to worry about.

This is one of the most typical ailments of the Soviet system: the belief in the wisdom of posterity.

Without the leader expressing his opinion, the meeting lasted for more than three hours and naturally did not reach any substantial conclusions. It only passed a vaguely worded meeting summary, which suggested that, while maintaining the existing equipment construction plan, research and exploration of information warfare theory should be strengthened.

When Ogarkov came out of the meeting room, he looked very unhappy. After exchanging a few words with Kuznetsov, who was waiting outside, he strode away, his leather shoes making a rapid, rhythmic sound on the ground.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The meeting minutes eventually ended up on Brezhnev's desk.

Under normal circumstances, it would most likely be stuffed into a folder by Brezhnev's secretary and never be opened again—the president is now so busy reading the daily Politburo documents that how could a mere internal meeting summary of the Ministry of Defense possibly attract his attention?

However, Andropov, through some channel that Slava still doesn't know, ensured that the document was placed on top of the stack of documents Brezhnev needed to sign that day, along with a brief explanation that framed the issue in a way that was easiest for Brezhnev to read: "Whether or not military reformers should be allowed to conduct research on information warfare theory."

It wasn't that King Xunzong was asked to make a decision to invest money in reforming the system; it was simply a question of whether a group of generals could study the topic on paper. This is the political wisdom cultivated within the bureaucratic system.

Brezhnev, whose energy was waning, signed the document, his wording as ambiguous as ever: "Agreed to the study, pay attention to the direction."

Damn it, who knows if "paying attention to the direction" meant making sure their research didn't go astray or that they were careful about their political direction to avoid causing trouble, but all Ogarkov needed were those two words—"agreement."

With these two words, he could legitimately establish an informationized warfare research group within the General Staff, gather a group of technical experts, and begin systematically reviewing all the technical lessons learned from the Western Exercise 81 to the Bekaa Valley air battle, and formulate a theoretical framework for the Soviet Army's informationization transformation. This was still a long way from actual troop reorganization and equipment replacement, but at least the door had been opened a crack.

Upon learning of the results, Slava said, "Going from not allowing discussion to allowing research may seem like a small step, but it is a small revolution in this system."

Director Nian scoffed and spat a sunflower seed shell into the trash can: "Revolution? You're too optimistic. It's like a doctor saying, 'I allow you to check whether this tumor is benign or malignant'—checking is one thing, whether or not surgery is needed is another."

"Well, at least we know it's malignant, anyway, this doctor's life won't last long."

He knew that Comrade Brezhnev did not have much time left. In the original history, in November 1982, Comrade Brezhnev met his mentor, trembling and unsteady.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Meanwhile, several other major events are scheduled on Moscow's political agenda that cannot be ignored by anyone.

First was the exercise that was later known as the "seven-hour nuclear war."

On June 18, the same day that mounted police charged into demonstrators in the streets of London, the Soviet Strategic Rocket Forces, Navy, and Air Force, under the command of Ustinov, conducted a seven-hour full-scale nuclear war simulation exercise.

From the simulated launch of intercontinental ballistic missiles to the underwater salvo of submarine-launched ballistic missiles and the penetration routes of strategic bombers, the entire Soviet nuclear strike force went through the entire process in seven hours—if this were not an exercise but a real war, about one-third of the world's population would have died in those seven hours.

The timing of this exercise is intriguing. Following the disastrous defeat in the Bekaa Valley, it seemed as if the Soviet military was sending a message to the world: While we may lag behind in the information warfare aspect of conventional weapons, we remain invincible in the ultimate dimension of power. You can use drones and electronic warfare to destroy our air defenses, but we have over ten thousand nuclear warheads, enough to wipe you and us off the planet!

The Soviet Union's military power reached its historical peak in that year.

Brezhnev himself could hardly concentrate on anything for more than half an hour at this point, but the situation in the Middle East was one of the few topics that could still stimulate his increasingly dulled senses.

Perhaps it was because the Soviet Union had invested countless resources and prestige in the Middle East over decades, or perhaps it was simply because the images of burning buildings and fleeing crowds in the battle reports sent back from Beirut were striking enough.

In late June, he wrote to Reagan through diplomatic channels, warning the United States not to send troops to Lebanon and not to get further involved in the military conflict in the Middle East.

Reagan's response was equally straightforward. He stated that the United States did not intend to seek a military presence in Lebanon but reserved all options for protecting U.S. interests and the security of its allies.

The rivalry between the two superpowers in the Middle East is far from over; it's just that both sides are currently preoccupied with their own troubles.

Moscow is busy digesting the lessons of the Bekaa Valley and dealing with reform debates within the military, while Washington is grappling with the situation of its British allies after the Falklands War and Israel's increasingly unruly military adventures.

Everyone has their own mess to clean up.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

After entering July, things began to develop in a direction that Slava had never anticipated.

That evening, after Andropov finished talking with them about the situation in Eastern Europe and the latest developments in the Middle East in his apartment, he suddenly mentioned: "Recently, there have been some very interesting signals coming from the east."

"East?" Director Nian asked. "Japan?"

"A little further west."

Oh, it's Old Zhong.

Andropov pulled a briefing from the pile of documents on the coffee table and handed it to Slava. The briefing was titled "An Assessment of Recent Changes in Chinese Policy Signals Towards the Soviet Union."

Chinese leaders recently issued internal instructions requiring relevant departments to "take action to convey a message of improved relations to the Soviet Union." Specific channels and methods are still under study, but the direction is clear—Beijing hopes to ease tensions with Moscow.

Sino-Soviet relations began to deteriorate in the early 1960s. Over the two decades from Khrushchev to Brezhnev, the rift between the two superpowers deepened, culminating in an armed conflict at Zhenbao Island in 1969. By the early 1980s, both sides had deployed hundreds of thousands of troops along their borders, creating a three-sided encirclement of China by Soviet forces stationed along the Sino-Soviet border and in Mongolia, as well as its naval base at Cam Ranh Bay in Vietnam. In response to Soviet pressure, China established diplomatic relations with the United States in 1979 and fought a war with Vietnam.

But by the summer of 1982, both sides had a motivation to change course: the Soviet Union needed to reduce the strategic pressure it faced—countering threats from three directions—NATO, China, and Afghanistan—was too much for any empire; China, under Deng Xiaoping's leadership, focused its efforts on economic development, and a stable northern border was in China's core interest.

"What do you think?" Andropov asked, looking at him.

"I prefer to look at things realistically. The alliance does need a good rest now. If we can put aside some of our ideological differences, we might be able to give up Vietnam and even withdraw some of our troops from Mongolia to relieve the pressure. You know, Lao Zhong's size and market are much larger than theirs."

"The key is that the US is also trying to win over Zhong. If we can restore normal relations with Zhong, we might be able to get some things on the NATO sanctions list through him," Slava said.

Andropov looked him in the eye for about five seconds, during which time Rislava was unsure if he had said something wrong.

“China is a remarkable country,” Andropov concluded. “Deng was one of the most pragmatic politicians I have ever met, but his reforms were too dangerous for us; they challenged the superiority of our system.”

President An was ultimately unwilling to admit that there was a problem with the alliance's system, as if he could bring the alliance back to life by whitewashing the situation.

He stood up and walked to the window.

"You can't have your cake and eat it too; you can only choose between wealth and peace—but if we continue to do nothing, we'll get neither," Director Nian said cautiously after a pause.

Andropov took a deep breath. After more than a year of getting along, not only had Slava and the young guide been teaching him, but he had also been influenced by them.

“You’re right. Sino-Soviet relations are one of the most important things I need to deal with next,” he said. “If we can improve relations with Beijing and reduce military pressure in the Far East, the resources and energy saved can be used where they are needed more—technological catch-up and countering NATO.”