AK 239: The Enemy Is Already Here

“Russia and China have become the world’s leading buyers of gold to weaken the world’s dependence on the almighty U.S. dollar. A new Cold War has already erupted in the financial sector. And like China’s President, Ji Xixping, stated: ‘The world’s economy is at a critical juncture.’”

This alone would not have worried me but there are other worrisome events taking place:

Several government ministries have now blocked over one million Russian web pages and invited Chinese experts to show them how to block even more.

More worrisome: Journalism had become a very dangerous business in my country.

Scores of journalists had been jailed.

A worse fate had befallen six dissidents: Murder.

One was a friend of mine.

It was safer these days to be a common criminal than it was to be a dissident or an opposition journalist.

And the siloviki had the common criminals on their side too. With illegal drugs, alcohol and cigarettes and much more.

In addition, I’ve noticed dozens of hardened, underground bunkers being built in or near important government buildings and homes.

In fact, I recently rode on the underground subway that goes from President Mironovich’s house outside Moscow to a leadership command center, completely underground.

These hardened sites are for one purpose and one purpose only:

Preparation for a first strike nuclear war on the West!

So there I was, on my couch, watching my favorite TV show starring: Olga Kasparov.

She is a friend and a very, very cautious journalist interviewing the President of Russia.

More courageous journalists had openly nicknamed the president: Ivan the Terrible, Ivan the Terminator, or just Crazy Ivan.

The President, in his humility, preferred: Ivan the Great!

So I have a nice tall glass of Russian Standard Platinum vodka watching our president on the TV say:

“The Americans try to blame Russia for everything wrong with the world. We Russians have a word for this: Russophobia.”

“For example, Guccifer 2.0 has hacked U.S. Democratic Party emails and state election boards.”

“Americans claim Guccifer is Russian intelligence services.”

“However, our intelligence services tell me: These are disgruntled people in the CIA and in American intelligence agencies who don’t like or trust their own corrupt bosses. Russia is blamed for all this American hacking but Edward Snowden has proven the American government has been illegally surveilling millions of their own citizens. Russia would never interfere in the internal affairs of other countries.”

“However, I will stand up to the arrogant American leadership that’s not trusted by their own CIA. We love the American people but I shall never allow our seas to become a pond for NATO or the American military in which they can freely play. We shall help our friends like the Syrians and the Iranians. And we shall build up our defensive forces in our territory, especially on The Crimean Peninsula.” said Crazy Ivan confidently.

I practically spit my expensive Russian vodka clear across the room!

“Our territory?”

“The Crimean Peninsula?”

I understood exactly what Crazy Ivan was saying:

First, this would rally ordinary Russians to an increasingly dictatorial president, claiming to stop Western aggression while he moves further and further into “our territory.”

Ukraine!

Second, it was to misdirect attention away from Russia and my Severstal.

And it worked!

While a brand new class of Borei sub, the Knyaz Vladimir, would pretend she was on sea trials tooling around the Barents Sea, for photo ops, I dove TK-20 deep, deeper, silent and in the opposite direction.

As I did, I put on a pair of old iPod headphones and hit play: ‘A Mad Russian’s Christmas’ by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra.[1]

How appropriate, just seven days ’til Christmas!

Merry Christmas, Mrs. Vasili, I thought as I commanded,

“Caterpillar drives to full speed.”

“Aye, captain. Caterpillar drives to full speed.”

We would soon be under Arctic ice heading directly to Alaska!

And then it hit me:

Oh God no!

Palmer Glacier — Mount Hood, Oregon

My Diary

^{Seven Days ’til Christmas}

^{G.P.S . Elevation:  8,324’}

It was clear but brisk, really brisk: Twenty-four degrees Fahrenheit brisk. But it was that kind of rare December night perfect for climbing the highest mountain in Oregon:

Mt. Hood (11,249’).

The, rare, clear moonlit night reflecting on the white snow made the night-climb easy and beautiful.

I’m kind of a big guy: Six feet four inches.

Some say handsome.

“My, my! You look like a chiseled Greek god, JD!” But that’s Nadene in my office and she wears glasses.

My name is John Denning, but I prefer JD.

I’ve hiked to the top of Hood twice before but today would be different: Today, I would never make it.

I’ve never made excuses for stupid behavior, like the fools who attempted to climb this mountain in the winter without proper equipment, but I always figured,

I’ve got personal issues too.