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

If this unrest forces the central government to reverse its decision and replace Corbyn with a local, it would send a signal to all the constituent republics of the Union: 'You can use street protests to overturn the central government's decisions.'

Today, Kazakhstan can use riots to oust a First Secretary they don't like; tomorrow, the Baltic states, Georgia, Ukraine, or any other place can use the same methods to resist the central government!

The central government's control over local areas has been weakening under the impact of open confrontation. If this sets a precedent for successful street protests, it will become extremely difficult for the central government to intervene in the affairs of any of the constituent republics in the future—and those ethnic separatist forces that have been lurking beneath the surface will regard this event as their first victory and a template for future actions.

Suppression would exacerbate ethnic conflicts and damage the Party's image among ethnic minorities, but indulgence would undermine the authority of the Party Central Committee and open the door to separatism.

Regardless of the reason, it is a bitter pill that the alliance has to swallow after the power of openness has been unleashed.

Chebrikov, if you have even a shred of loyalty to your mentor, to Comrade Andropov, please tell me your answer.

Chebrikov agreed almost without hesitation:

"Comrade Ivanov, I will immediately transfer personnel from the KGB Second Directorate to you."

Chebrikov did not give a direct answer to Slava's last question. He would give Gorbachev one last chance before choosing to bring the KGB into Slava's camp.

The chance for the Union to be revived is only once, and if Gorbachev cannot seize it, then he and the KGB will make choices that align with his beliefs.

He could not bear to see the cause he had dedicated his life to fall into ruin.

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.

Slava also went to see Ryzhkov. After listening to Slava's analysis, the Prime Minister decided to join the effort.

“Let’s go to Almaty together. Your position is not high enough, so your words may not carry much weight. As the Prime Minister, I still have a lot of power.”

Ryzhkov is the chairman of the Council of Ministers, and he has sufficient authority to intervene in an ongoing crisis.

“The people from Chebrikov are already waiting for us at the airport,” Slava said. “This operation by Moscow is strange. The KGB didn’t receive much information. If we try to de-escalate the situation, we’re likely to clash with people directly under Moscow’s control.”

Slava and Ryzhkov arrived in Almaty late on the 18th.

The plane landed at Almaty Airport. As soon as Slava stepped out of the cabin, he saw fully armed paratroopers deployed around the airport. Searchlight beams swept across the night sky, armored vehicles were parked at the edge of the tarmac, and soldiers were on high alert.

They are the 104th Guards Airborne Division.

Seeing this formation, Slava knew things were going badly. Deploying an airborne division at the airport meant that the central government was prepared for a large-scale military operation.

“The situation is worse than I thought,” Slava said to Ryzhkov. “We have to get into the city immediately.”

The two men, accompanied by KGB guards, immediately boarded the vehicle, and the convoy sped off toward downtown Almaty.

The winter nights in Almaty are bitterly cold; in December, the nighttime temperature had already dropped to minus twenty degrees Celsius. The city streets were deserted, save for the occasional passing military vehicle and patrolling soldiers.

The convoy drove towards the city center for about twenty minutes, and then on a main road leading out of the city, they encountered another convoy—a line of trucks heading out of the city center.

"Help! Help!"

The instant Slava's car and the truck passed each other, he saw the truck's cargo compartment through his car window.

The carriage was packed with people, all of them students.

Many students were covered in bruises, with obvious signs of beatings on their heads, faces, and bodies; some were even bleeding from their foreheads.

Many students had their outer coats stripped off, and many were barefoot, shivering in the open-top truck bed in the freezing night of minus twenty degrees Celsius. Some were crying, and some were too cold to speak.

The escorting officers were masked special agents. From their attire and demeanor, Slava could tell at a glance that they were not locals, but special forces airlifted from elsewhere.

Slava's mind went blank.

He instantly understood where these trucks were going and what they were going to do: stuff the arrested protesters into the trucks, transport them to the snowy plains thirty to fifty kilometers outside the city, take off their shoes and coats, and leave them to fend for themselves in the wilderness!

People will die in temperatures as low as minus twenty degrees Celsius!

"Stop the trucks!" Slava yelled. "Stop those trucks! Now!"

"Beep beep-"

The KGB faithfully carried out the order, and the special vehicle blocked the middle of the road, forcing the convoy of trucks to stop.

Slava and Ryzhkov got off the bus.

The atmosphere instantly became tense. KGB guards, armed to the teeth, got out of the truck, while the masked special agents escorting the truck, along with the accompanying MI6 guards, immediately went on high alert.

Two groups of armed personnel, both belonging to the state's security agencies, faced off on the streets in the dead of night at minus twenty degrees Celsius. Although their guns were not directly pointed at each other, everyone's hands were on their weapons.

Slava strode up to the first truck and sternly questioned the guards:

"Speak! Who the hell gave this order? Strip the students naked and throw them outside the city—who gave this order?!"

The special agent escorting the vehicle was stunned by the imposing presence of this short man who had suddenly appeared and whose background was unknown. He looked at Slava, then at Ryzhkov, whose expression was ashen, and at the menacing group of KGB agents, clearly not understanding the situation.

At this moment, the KGB officer accompanying Slava's convoy came over. He was the deputy director of the KGB's Second Directorate.

"This...this..." He knew very well that he had not given the KGB the order to launch an attack, so who gave the order to these special agents?

“I’m asking you,” Slava stared at him, “who gave the order to this truck, to strip the students naked and throw them into the snowy plains outside the city?”

The deputy director looked bewildered; he was clearly not entirely clear about the command chain of this specific operation—because the entire operation bypassed the KGB system and was directly commanded from Moscow through the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

The Ministry of Internal Affairs and the KGB were two different departments. The Ministry of Internal Affairs, formerly known as the People's Commissariat for Internal Affairs (NKVD), was responsible for domestic public order and security, similar to a regular police department, while the KGB was responsible for national security, intelligence, and counter-espionage.

"I... Comrade Ivanov, I'm sorry, I didn't know. This operation appears to be carried out by the Ministry of Internal Affairs and the Moscow working group..."

“Contact Chairman Chebrikov immediately,” Slava’s voice left no room for argument, “and tell him what’s happening on the ground!”

The deputy director saluted Slava and Ryzhkov and immediately went to make a phone call.

The masked agents, seeing a KGB officer cowering before an unknown short man and a tall man with a stern face, immediately realized that these two men were no ordinary people. However, they were still unwilling to give up their "escort mission," and some began climbing onto the truck in an attempt to drive it away.

Ryzhkov erupted at that moment. He lunged forward, blocking the truck, his face dark with rage, and roared at the masked special agents:

"I am Nikolai Ivanovich Ryzhkov, Chairman of the Council of Ministers of the USSR! Anyone who dares to drive this car away, have the guts to kill me, the Prime Minister, right here and now! Otherwise, get out of here! You bastards! Traitors!"

The masked Secret Service agents were stunned. They could brandish batons at the students, but they dared not lay a hand on the Prime Minister.

After a few seconds of standoff, the special agents got off the truck one by one and stepped aside.

Slava had no time to deal with the special agents. He turned and walked to the truck bed, to the students who had been stripped of their outer clothing, were barefoot, and shivering in the cold night.

He took off his coat, climbed onto the truck, and draped it over a student whose lips were turning purple from the cold.

The students in the carriage were sobbing. These young people, who had been beaten, humiliated, and thrown onto trucks to be transported to the snowy plains outside the city, could no longer hold back their tears when they saw that someone had finally come to rescue them.

Most of them didn't know Slava and Ryzhkov; they only knew that a few high-ranking officials had stopped the truck and pulled them back from the brink of death.

But several young men in the carriage recognized Slava because he was too short.

A short man standing at 1.6 meters tall who stands out conspicuously among a group of tall Russian officials and secret agents must be Ivanov!

"It's Ivanov! It's Comrade Velikoslav Ivanovich Ivanov!" a young man shouted to the others in the carriage in Kazakh. "It's Ivanov, the one who helped the locals in Ukraine!"

Shouts in Kazakh echoed through the carriage, and a faint hope began to appear on those faces that had been filled with terror.

Slava looked at the students—young people with tear stains and blood on their faces, barefoot and shivering in the truck, the oldest of them no more than twenty years old, no different from the kids on the university campus in the world he had traveled to before!

They were beaten like this simply because they refused to accept an outsider who couldn't even speak their language ruling their homeland, and then they went out into the streets. They were stripped naked and were about to be thrown into the snowfield to die!

Anger surged within him.

He climbed into the carriage and walked up to a girl who was still crying. The girl was probably only eighteen or nineteen years old. She was huddled in a corner of the carriage, barefoot, wearing only a thin sweater, and her whole body was shivering from the cold. The tears on her face were almost freezing in the air.

Slava gently hugged her, transferring his body heat to her, and patted her back softly with one hand, as if comforting a frightened child.

In that truck bed, which was twenty degrees below zero and filled with cries and bloodstains, the students sobbed and wailed, and Slava himself couldn't help but shed tears.

“I’m sorry, child,” he choked out, gently patting the girl’s back as he whispered, “I’m late…we’re late…I’m so sorry…”

The girl cried even harder in his arms, releasing her pent-up grievances.

Ryzhkov, his face grim, went from truck to truck rescuing people. He directed his entourage to unload all the students from the trucks, and then began searching for warm clothing.

He took off his overcoat, and one by one, the KGB officers and officials accompanying him took off their coats and cotton-padded jackets and draped them over the shivering students.

In the dead of night, at minus twenty degrees Celsius, a group of high-ranking officials from the Alliance and KGB took off their clothes and draped them over the suppressed students, and more and more students began to cry.

Like someone suddenly finding their anchor in the darkest night, they surged towards Slava. Several KGB officers tried to stop the emotionally charged students, but they couldn't.

The students surrounded Slava; some tried to touch him, some spoke in a mix of Russian and Kazakh, and some simply stood beside him and cried.

Slava stood among the students, surrounded by their scarred yet rekindled faces, looking at each one as she silently made a mental note of this night.

He recorded how the League treated its youngest children, and what would rekindle in the eyes of the people when a leader was willing to take off his coat.

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.

About half an hour later, the KGB deputy director who had gone to make the call returned with his men.

He strode up to Slava and reported in a low voice:

"Comrade Ivanov—I have reported the situation to my superiors. This operation was directly commanded by the Central Committee in Moscow, completely bypassing the KGB system. Chairman Chebrikov is on his way to the Kremlin—he has authorized the KGB to stop this excessive action and will raise the issue at the Central Committee level."

This operation was codenamed "Blizzard," and its commander-in-chief was the Soviet Deputy Minister of Internal Affairs, an Armenian who was deliberately chosen to ensure he was not influenced by local sentiments.

Tactical command was provided by the Internal Troops of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, with intelligence support from the Fifth Directorate of the KGB; local coordination was also handled by the Minister of Internal Affairs of Kazakhstan, but their actual power had been undermined by a working group sent by Moscow.

The vast majority of the troops deployed for the suppression came from outside the Republic.

Special forces airlifted from Moscow, Leningrad, Novosibirsk, Dnipropetrovsk, and other locations, along with the 498th Internal Troops Regiment of the Ministry of Internal Affairs and the 104th Airborne Guards Division transferred from western Russia.

There were also so-called armed "volunteer workers' corps," non-Kazakh workers mobilized from Almaty factories, mainly Russians and Ukrainians, who were given iron bars, rubber batons, chains, and cables.

None of the more than 1 people involved in the crackdown were Kazakhs, a deliberate design by Moscow to avoid psychological barriers between its own soldiers and Kazakh protesters.

At this time, special forces were dividing the square into several sections and clearing them one by one. Volunteer teams were beating the arrested with sticks and chains, and fire hoses spraying water at minus 20 degrees Celsius caused frostbite to many people.

Trucks were used to drive away protesters, stuffing them into trucks and transporting them to the snowfields 50 kilometers outside Almaty, where their shoes and coats were removed and they were left to walk back to the city!

PS: Many people froze to death or went missing in the wilderness. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, KGB members who witnessed the events estimated that at least 160 people froze to death in the wilderness.

After half an hour of reassurance, the students' emotions had stabilized considerably. The rescued students, dressed in various coats and cotton-padded clothes taken from officials and KGB agents, were still shaken, but their despair had subsided.

Slava walked among the students, raised his voice, and said calmly but firmly:

"Students, I am Ivanov, Director of the State Economic and Information Technology Committee. I am now going to the city center square—your classmates are still there. I assure you:"

I will seek justice for the Kazakhs; all the atrocities committed in this operation will be investigated!

He paused for a moment, looking at these young faces.

"But I urge you to remain calm. Let's stop the bloodshed; too much blood has already been shed tonight!"

I hope that those of you who are willing to believe me will come back to the square with me—to persuade the students who are still there to go home.

"I have heard your demands, and the central government will take them seriously. But please stop using your lives to fight back. If this continues, more people will be injured and more people will die. I swear to you, justice and fairness will surely come!"

“I ask you to believe me,” Slava bowed to all the students.

One by one, the students nodded.

So, in the dead of night when the temperature was minus twenty degrees Celsius, Slava and Ryzhkov led the group of students, who had just been rescued from the brink of death, back to the central square of Almaty.

The situation in the square remained chaotic.

A standoff and clash occurred between the KGB reinforcements and the armed repressive forces on the square—the NKVD's internal security forces, special forces, and armed workers' units. The two groups of law enforcement agencies were on the verge of conflict, caught in the middle between the protesters and the students who had been scattered and forced to flee by the crackdown.

The students Slava brought back began to play a role. They went into the square and shouted to the students who were still protesting, telling them that Ivanov had arrived, that senior central officials had intervened and stopped the violent crackdown, and that if things continued like this, more people would die.

The persuasion proceeded slowly amidst the chaos.

After a night of chaos, confrontation, persuasion, and guidance, the crowd in the square began to gradually disperse as dawn approached. Some students went home after being persuaded by their companions, but more than four thousand people remained in the square—either because their demands had not yet been met, or because they were unwilling to leave, or simply because they were too angry and sad to calm down.

Ryzhkov directed local officials to provide the students who remained in the square with cotton-padded clothes and food, and also mobilized medical resources to ensure their well-being.

At least, within the area that Slava and Ryzhkov can control, there will be no more atrocities like trucks driving people away from the square, and no more students will be beaten to death or freeze to death.

As dawn broke, Slava stood at the edge of the square, watching the young people who were still in the cold, wearing cotton-padded clothes and drinking hot soup.

He knew the situation on the ground had stabilized for the time being; the most brutal crackdown had been halted, and the most dangerous bloodshed had been averted. But he also knew the real problem wasn't in Almaty's square—it was in Moscow.

Why did this riot happen? Why was the crackdown so brutal? What role did Nazarbayev play behind the scenes? What responsibility should the central decision-making circle, which bypasses all conventional procedures, bear for all of this?

He had to return to Moscow.

He must fight for fairness and justice!

If Gorbachev were only targeting him personally, he could endure it; he was open-minded and resilient, able to patiently wait until the final victory.

But now he is no longer alone. Countless people's hopes, beliefs, and ideals are placed on him. He is no longer moving forward alone; he can now represent a significant portion of this great alliance.

Let's do this for the people, Slava, charge!

Chapter 63 Summoning Loyal Officers (Part 1)

Midnight on the 18th, at the Kremlin.

Gorbachev is in a terrible predicament.