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

Subsequently, various transportation hubs were blocked, with the three major airports of Sheremetyevo, Vnukovo, and Domodedovo prohibited from all aircraft take-off and landing. Moscow's main railway station was taken over, and the main bridges over the Moscow River were guarded by the military.

The entire city is now under lockdown, and no one can freely enter or leave.

The army completed martial law in just over an hour, while the Moscow residents, awakened by the roar of tank engines, could only cautiously peek outside through the curtains. Some tried to turn on the television and radio, but the television screens were filled with static, and the radio only played music.

If even Swan Lake is closed to visitors, then this must be a serious matter.

Some fearless, bloodthirsty spectators tried to go out and find out what was going on, but were immediately locked back in by the KGB outside the door.

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.

TASS, 3:10 a.m.

An armored personnel carrier drove toward TASS headquarters in a torrential downpour, its cargo compartment filled with KGB agents.

They weren't locals from Moscow; they were all transferred here by the director.

Over the past few years, Nian had used her network to plant a group of KGB agents loyal to moderate reformers in Eastern Europe. On the eve of the coup, Nian secretly transferred these people she trusted most back to Moscow—

In such a critical operation, what she needed was an absolutely reliable and loyal force, not local personnel whose stance might waver.

The leader of the group was a KGB major wearing a raincoat—Vladimir Putin.

This KGB major, who had once been sent to Dresden, had grown into a capable operations commander. At this moment, Putin, wearing a raincoat and carrying a pistol, sat in the back of an armored personnel carrier, with a vehicle full of fully armed KGB agents behind him.

An infantry fighting vehicle followed behind the armored personnel carrier.

"Who goes there? Stop! Stop!" *Bang!*

The convoy arrived at the gates of TASS. The guards tried to close the gates to stop them, but when they saw the turrets of the infantry fighting vehicles slowly turning in the rainy night, they immediately raised their hands in surrender.

"What the hell—" "Put down the camera! Right now!" "Ugh!"

“I’m British! I have a press pass, you can’t—” “Fuck you!”

Inside the building, some uninformed foreign journalists tried to capture this sensational scene. The KGB didn't care about press freedom or human rights; the secret agents kicked the red-haired British journalist to his knees and confiscated his camera.

Faced with heavily armed KGB agents, the bruised and battered journalist chose to have his neck twisted to the right or his arm twisted behind his back, and was handcuffed and locked in a small room at TASS.

Putin stepped off the armored personnel carrier, pistol in hand. It was raining heavily; large raindrops pelted his raincoat and his face.

He raised his wrist, glanced at his watch, and checked the time.

"It's time."

Through the dense rain, he glanced at the Soviet flag fluttering in the wind and rain atop the TASS building.

The red flag fluttered violently in the storm, as if it might be torn apart at any moment, yet it stubbornly continued to fly high.

Putin withdrew his gaze and, with his agents and soldiers behind him, stormed into TASS.

"Bang!" Two special agents used breaching guns to break the lock on the door, and Putin strode into the building.

Agents and soldiers followed closely behind, their footsteps echoing through the lobby of TASS. The staff on duty were stunned by the sudden appearance of these heavily armed intruders.

"You—" "Citizens, please remain calm!"

Putin's voice rang out in the hall:

"All exits are now sealed off! For the next forty-eight hours, this building is off-limits to all entry and exit. Anyone wishing to leave a room must report to me."

As for food and water, you don't need to worry.

After the order was given, the soldiers quickly dispersed and occupied every entrance and exit of TASS. Two soldiers were left to guard the door of each room the column passed.

Putin, accompanied by several agents, headed straight for the office of the TASS news agency director.

The TASS director was awakened by a late-night phone call and the ensuing chaos. When he rushed to his office, the infantry fighting vehicle had already rolled onto the steps in the yard. He was so frightened that he was at a loss for what to do.

He was so frightened that he stood there stunned for several minutes until the footsteps of a group of fully armed men approached in the corridor before he came to his senses.

Putin walked into his office and took off the hood of his raincoat.

Rainwater slid down his face as he took a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his raincoat.

The paper bore a series of signatures: Second Secretary Ligachev, Defense Minister Sokolov, Chief of the General Staff Ogarkov, KGB Chairman Chebrikov, Head of State Gromyko...

The signatures of the top leaders of the Soviet party, government, military and police systems are prominently displayed; it would have been even better if Gorbachev had signed it!

Putin pulled the paper out of his inner pocket, carefully unfolded it, and placed it on his desk for the TASS news agency director to see:

"My unit has taken over TASS on orders from the Supreme Politburo of the CPSU Central Committee. The CPSU Central Committee will issue a resolution in a few hours, and you will receive new instructions."

For the next forty-eight hours, you may only work in this office.

You have the right to call to confirm the message—but you must complete your communication within my sight.

The TASS director's face turned even paler.

"I...I...I...I...please check..."

His hand trembled as he reached for the telephone on the table, his fingers shaking violently. He tried to dial a number—the one he instinctively felt was the most reliable for "verifying the situation" and "seeking help"—the phone number for Gorbachev's office.

Putin suddenly spoke up:

"Comrade, you'd better think again about who you're going to call."

His hand was already on the holster at his waist.

The TASS chief now understood what was going on. He swallowed hard and looked at the KGB officer, who was soaking wet and had a cold look in his eyes.

The one who can confirm the situation now is not Gorbachev, but the man in front of us and the power represented by the string of signatures behind him.

He put down the phone: "I...I will obey any order from the Central Committee of the CPSU."

His voice was trembling with sobs, and his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

Putin nodded and said nothing more.

Outside the window, the rain continued to pour down, pounding against the windows of the TASS building. The red flag on the rooftop still fluttered in the storm.

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 operation continues.

By the latter half of the morning, all the key locations in Moscow had fallen into the control of moderate reformers. Gorbachev was still on his flight back to Moscow, but the city he was about to land in was no longer the city he had left.

At 5:30 a.m., before dawn, Gromyko, in his capacity as Chairman of the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet, convened an emergency Politburo meeting.

The meeting was held in the Kremlin, and the attendees were all the core members of the moderate reformists, as well as the centrists who had no choice but to accept reality after communications were cut off and key personnel were taken into custody.

The meeting adopted the prepared resolution, which had been left blank in key positions. The wording was classic Soviet style: vague yet unequivocal.

"Due to health reasons, Comrade Mikhail Sergeyevich Gorbachev is temporarily unable to perform his duties as General Secretary..."

The plenary session of the Central Committee will be held soon...

Now, all that's needed is for Gorbachev to land so that the final blow of the program can be delivered.

The army has completed its mission. Under the authorization of Defense Minister Sokolov and Chief of the General Staff Ogarkov, most of the Moscow garrison troops have withdrawn from Moscow, leaving only elite troops at key locations and important public places.

This is to maintain order; if anyone tries to organize opposition activities, the army and the KGB will immediately crush their plot!

At 6 a.m., the curfew on the streets ended, and citizens were able to move around "basically freely".

-

Seven o'clock in the morning.

The rain in Moscow gradually subsided at dawn. A faint glimmer of light appeared in the leaden sky, and the torrential downpour that had blotted out the sun last night finally showed signs of stopping.

Millions of Moscow residents woke up this Saturday morning and, as usual, turned on their televisions and radios to watch or listen to the morning news.

But this morning's programming was different from usual; the usual news broadcasts did not appear on the television screen.

Instead, the classic ballet "Swan Lake" was performed.

The elegant and soothing melodies of Tchaikovsky flowed from countless television sets and radios in homes. Actors danced gracefully on the screen, the music melodious and tranquil, as if it were just an ordinary cultural program suitable for a weekend morning.

Now everyone knows the big one is coming.

In the days following the deaths of Brezhnev, Andropov, and Chernenko, television stations used "Swan Lake" to fill the void during the power transition.

After the dance music played for a while, it gradually faded out. Then the TASS news broadcast came on—spoken by the few borrowed announcers, in the steady and solemn tone characteristic of Soviet official media.

The announcement was brief and vague:

"TASS is authorized to announce that, given that Comrade Mikhail Sergeyevich Gorbachev is temporarily unable to perform his duties as General Secretary of the CPSU Central Committee due to health reasons, in accordance with the decision of the Politburo of the CPSU Central Committee, a plenary session of the Central Committee will be held in the near future to discuss matters concerning the leadership of the Party and the State."

During this period, all work of the Party and the State proceeded normally, and social order remained stable...

There were no details or explanations, no specific information to help people determine what had happened, only the euphemism that had been used countless times and was known to everyone—"health reasons."

Many people wanted to go to the Party Committee office building to ask the cadres what had happened, but as of now, the army has not withdrawn from these key facilities. On the road, a convoy is heading towards the Kremlin, escorted by infantry fighting vehicles.

"Let me out! You dictators, traitors to the Party! Spy! Traitors! Let me out!!"

Inside the car, Yeltsin was roaring and pounding on the window, trying to appeal to the people, trying to call on the Moscow City Committee to mobilize the People's Guard, hoping that someone could save him from his predicament.

What he didn't know was that officials of all ranks in the Moscow City Committee had already been sent to dark rooms by the KGB while they were asleep. Anyway, it was the weekend, the offices were closed, and it wouldn't disturb the lives of the citizens.

"Mikhail! Help me!!!" Yeltsin's shouts were drowned out by the roar of the tanks.

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.

At that moment, Gorbachev, on the plane, seemed to have a premonition.

"Comrade Yeltsin?" He scratched the back of his head.

Chapter 66 I'm here for a meeting, what do you want?

With the end of the official announcement in the early morning, Yegor Kuzmich Ligachev appeared in the public eye in place of Gorbachev.

The official statement from TASS was that "Comrade Mikhail Sergeyevich Gorbachev is temporarily unable to perform his duties as General Secretary due to health reasons."

Under the chairmanship of the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet and a vote by the Politburo, head of state Gromyko was appointed acting general secretary to preside over the party's day-to-day work.

The fact that the General Secretary is temporarily unable to perform his duties due to illness, and that the Second Secretary is acting on his behalf, is perfectly reasonable within the framework of the Party Constitution. No one mentioned the tanks that drove into Moscow in the rain last night, no one mentioned the severed communication lines or the residences that were "heavily guarded."

Outside of Moscow, the public perceived this as simply a normal transfer of power due to the leader's health issues.

But the core members of the moderate reformists know that the real test is only just beginning.

Controlling Moscow is only the first step. What truly determines the success or failure of this operation is the subsequent legitimization—

They must transform this power transfer, which was completed overnight, into a legitimate outcome that is formally recognized at the highest level of the Party's authority!

They have less than 24 hours left. If they cannot convene an emergency plenary session of the Central Committee and pass a formal resolution within that time, the operation will be reinterpreted as an illegal coup.

Time is their most precious resource right now.

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.

10:00 AM.

Ligachev, in his capacity as acting General Secretary, convened an emergency plenary session of the Central Committee.

The Central Committee, a body of several hundred members with the highest authority in the Party Constitution, was present in full force. All members, whether they liked it or not, had to give a formal collective endorsement of this power transition.

But before the plenary session can make a final decision, the moderate reformers need one more thing—

A statement signed by Gorbachev himself, requesting to temporarily step down due to illness.

When Khrushchev was ousted from power, the transfer of power appeared dignified and legal precisely because of his signed statement requesting retirement due to age and health reasons.

We don't say the Politburo forced him out; we say he requested to leave on his own.

But will Gorbachev sign? What if he absolutely refuses to sign?

No problem, the meticulous KGB Chairman Chebrikov has already prepared a contingency plan.

Last night, Gorbachev's personal physician was taken into custody. If Gorbachev refuses to sign, the KGB can produce his personal physician's diagnosis stating that "the General Secretary is unable to perform his signing duties due to health reasons."

If Gorbachev refuses to sign in his own handwriting, then it can only mean that the General Secretary is so ill that he cannot even sign. As for the specific illness that is so serious...

Suffering from acute heavy metal poisoning? Falling after suddenly wanting to clean a window? Eating the same smoked fish as Chernenko?

Well, let's go by Russian tradition; he probably had a stroke.

Having suffered a stroke, Gorbachev was unlikely to be able to move around normally outside, as that would not be within the capabilities of a stroke patient. Coincidentally, many mental hospitals were built in the Soviet Union during Andropov's rule, and Gorbachev would likely spend the rest of his life in a hospital ward.

If the soft approach doesn't work, try the hard one.

Regardless of whether it's done through force or soft power, the outcome of this matter is already predetermined.

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.

At this time, Gorbachev's plane was already approaching Moscow.