Free Web NovelUnlike Putin, who spoke calmly, my head was a storm.
Not an incomplete, developing nuclear program, but an actual Soviet-engineered nuclear warhead falling into Kim Jongil’s hands?
It was no different from handing dynamite to a child.
“...Are you certain of this?”
“I cannot be sure. But Foreign Intelligence’s coup plot was said to have the recovery of those missing warheads as its goal. If Kim Jongil were captured and the regime overturned, perhaps they hoped to recover the nukes through pro-Russian forces.”
“You’re saying something like that could happen without your approval?”
“Even during KGB days, not every operation was reported to the General Secretary. Had this succeeded without your involvement, it might have stayed hidden.”
My throat went dry. I filled the glass before me to the brim and downed it in one go.
The heat of the vodka seared down my throat, steadying me somewhat.
‘As expected, I cannot let Kim Jongil remain in power.’
I had already considered propping up Jang Songthaek to seize control. Now my resolve hardened.
Kim Jongil had to be removed.
“If this is true, then it’s serious.” freewёbnoνel.com
“It’s not certain. And even if he has one, whether he can use it is another matter. The moment he does, the world will point their fingers at him.”
“Kim Jongil is unpredictable. If such a man holds a usable nuclear weapon, who can say what madness he’ll attempt?” fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
And if America found out?
Forget Iraq—they would move to eliminate him immediately. And the fallout could easily strike South Korea.
“Does the United States know this?”
Putin shook his head.
“I doubt it. And they must not. If they did, they wouldn’t remain idle. If you’re thinking of telling them, don’t. Our friendship would be shattered.”
“Haha, of course not.”
He was right. The chances America knew were low. If they did, they would not sit still. But for me to hand over this information wasn’t wise either.
Weighing any benefit against my friendship with Putin, the latter was far heavier.
For now, I shelved thoughts of Kim Jongil and smoothly changed the subject.
“I heard you’re preparing to restart the war against the mafia. Why not eliminate Mogilevich first?”
“Mogilevich? Not yet. Embarrassing as it is, too many spies in the police and FSB still work for them. If I move the military or police openly, they’ll scatter and plunge Russia into chaos. I want the mafia gone, not Russia destabilized.”
At Putin’s cautious tone, I hid a smirk behind my glass.
“Even so, leaving them be must grate on you.”
“Of course. My ultimate goal is to strip them of the ability to flaunt power as they do now. I already intended to clean them up, but hearing they plotted against you sealed my decision. They know well of our friendship. For them to move against you is to insult me.”
Though his words were calm, anger flashed briefly across his face. Clearly, he was furious.
Smiling gently, I asked,
“Then what if you encouraged mafia infighting?”
“Mafia infighting?”
“Yes. Those who joined forces to strike me likely feared I would ally with Mogilevich. My friendship with you only deepened that fear.”
Intrigued, Putin gestured for me to continue.
“I intend to meet Usoyan and Ivankov, the ones who tried to kill me. Support them to take Mogilevich down, then let them absorb his faction.”
Putin tapped the table slowly, eyes closed, weighing it.
I sipped my vodka and waited silently.
Before long, he opened his eyes and asked gravely,
“Can those two defeat Mogilevich?”
“I will support them. You lose nothing, Putin. Just stand by. If police or FSB intervene, stop them—that’s all.”
“That is simple enough. But Moscow cannot become a battlefield.”
His concern was justified. I nodded.
“Once Mogilevich is gone, his underlings will scatter or be absorbed. That’s mafia nature. They crave his influence, not out of true loyalty.”
“Fine. I will look the other way.”
“Thank you.”
For Putin, it was hardly a bad deal. To reap benefits without lifting a hand—why refuse?
I beamed at him.
Then he asked suddenly,
“But why involve yourself in all this? It’s not as if you lack money.”
“You know well, don’t you? The underworld never disappears. Better to keep it under control.”
“That is true.”
The Putin I remembered had always done exactly that—keeping even friendly mafia groups alive, under his leash.
No one exploited them in governance more effectively than Putin.
“Their power will weaken. That’s when you extend your hand. They’ll become loyal hounds.”
After a pause, Putin chuckled with satisfaction and raised his glass.
“A drink, then.”
Our glasses clinked, and we continued drinking.
“Medvedev told me—you advised him to support America’s plan for war in Iraq.”
So Medvedev had already reported everything we discussed.
“Yes.”
“Why should we?”
“Unlike Afghanistan, Iraq offers no real justification.”
“True. Afghanistan we watched in silence—its justification was undeniable.”
The Twin Towers, even the Pentagon—such wounds to America’s pride.
“And now, America prepares to invade Iraq. Two wars in succession bring them political strain.”
“Exactly. Why this sudden obsession with Iraq? Even if we oppose, they’ll invade regardless.”
Putin knew well America would go forward with or without Russia.
“Perhaps they simply wish to show their strength. Afghanistan ended too quickly to demonstrate anything.”
“They shouldn’t underestimate Afghanistan. We know firsthand how costly it was. Some even say the Soviet collapse began there.”
Whether or not that was true, I could not say it to his face. Instead, I smiled faintly.
“Would America be any different? They’re drunk on victory and blind to consequence.”
I had saved Ahmad Shah Massoud, but Afghanistan was unlike other nations—it was tribes loyal to leaders, not to a country.
Even Massoud, uniting tribes against the Taliban, would be unpredictable if he gained power.
“So, tell me—why should I vote in favor of America’s Iraq invasion?”
Putin’s eyes still narrowed with doubt.
I set my glass down.
“When war begins, the Middle East will collapse into chaos. Oil prices will soar, and that means vast profit for Russia.”
“True. But politics isn’t driven by money alone. Russians want strength first. Economy comes after.”
Indeed. After the collapse, Russia was poorer than even in Tsarist days. Those who lived it bore lasting scars.
“Agreed. But the Iraq invasion is inevitable. Better to extract something for support than to oppose and gain nothing.”
“Extract something?”
“Yes. Unlike Russia, China fears America’s gaze and will likely abstain. The other permanent members—America, Britain, France—won’t ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ veto. China abstains. The ten rotating members—Colombia, Ireland, Mauritius, Norway, Singapore, Bulgaria, Cameroon, Guinea, Mexico, Syria—America will already have nine in its pocket. Only Russia remains.”
In the UN Security Council, five permanent members and ten rotating ones decide. A resolution requires nine votes, with no permanent member veto.
Which was why vetoes were routine, making resolutions rare.
“Bush himself called me. I refused outright.”
“Is that so?”
If Bush had personally called, the pressure must be great.
“He asked me not to veto. If support was impossible, then at least abstain.”
Abstention was as good as support. Putin’s displeasure showed clearly.
“Putin, all America wants is justification. The war itself they’ll fight with their allies.”
America wouldn’t ask Russia for troops or weapons—just legitimacy.
“And the Iraq war won’t harm Russia. First, fighting in both Afghanistan and Iraq will sap America’s focus from East Asia, letting Russia expand influence.”
At this, Putin tilted his head but did not refute.
“Continue.”
“Second—the weakening of American power. Two wars will drain manpower and resources. This is opportunity, Putin.”
America underestimated Russia’s resilience. By turning its gaze to the Middle East, it gave Russia room to recover militarily and economically.
“Even without our support, that will still happen.”
“True. But why not take what can be gained?”
“And what, specifically, do I gain?”
“Anything Putin demands. Bush needs Russia’s support that much.”
Having already refused once, Russia’s bargaining position was strong.
Putin swirled his glass in thought, silent for a while.
At last he spoke.
“...And what do you gain?”
“Let me handle the negotiations with America. I’ll bring Russia the greatest possible benefit.”
“You know what I want?”
“The complete subjugation of Chechnya, yes? For that you’ll need international recognition.”
At my answer, Putin’s lips curved in a small smile.
