Moscow Machination

Anna Petrova flipped through the usual suspects. Like a team of synchronized swimmers the western news networks broke the story within micro seconds of one another: Washington was all set to lift sanctions against Iran and Cuba.

Anna Petrova had been expecting something along these lines. In fact Sergey before his little ‘vacation’ to Vorkuta had predicted an inclusion of Venezuela and North Korea to create an uber unholy quadrifecta… so darn predictable. But what the west wasn’t going to predict was her Project Catie.

“Madam a Mr. Pyotr Primakov from SVR-SB is here to see you.”

“Bring him in,” said the President. She had promoted a drone to replace Sergey as there was going to be very little work for the Foreign Ministry in the immediate future. Russia was being sent out into the cold, yet again. But this would be the last time.

On the operational side she needed someone to oversee Project Catie’s execution — the nuts and bolts — as per the retro-Nazi’s specifications. Eleven months into her presidency, she still couldn’t get straight answers from the FSB and SVR. The agencies still yearned for her gator chasing predecessor. Factoring in American spies, it was going to be hard to execute Catie, without some outsider-insider help.

After the loss of Sergey, she had drawn up requirements for this new position: The person had to believe in Russia and had to be sort of an outsider… someone ignorant of Moscow tendencies.

While rifling through binders full of men, a familiar face had caught her attention. It was Primakov, the guy who had planned that train incident in Guangdong. The Japanese and Germans had been pleased with the outcome. In fact, when the Cuban news broke, the German chancellor had texted, ‘Vee got ur back’ and the Japanese emperor had DMed an ‘IOU’.

Primakov shuffled in uncomfortably and took the seat across the President. He really felt out of place. With no interpreter to bridge the power gap, he smiled awkwardly at the President.

“Would you like something to drink? Some Starbucks? Supposedly that’s what the American President drinks.”

“Yes Madam. Thank you.”

“Two tall Americanos,” Anna notified her secretary.

“Madam, I am yearning for the day when the espresso mafia will add a Tall Russian.”

The President smiled. She had found her man.

“Pyotr, as you may or may not know, we have lost a friend today.” Primakov wondered if this was about Sergey Luzkhov’s trip to the Vorkuta Gulag. Moscow’s inner rings were in a tizzy.

“Case in point,” President Petrova nodded at the TV, where a senile Castro was saluting the American flag. “Look at him. God… he disgusts me…”

The secretary knocked and came in with two steaming cups of fine Americano.

“So the reason you are here is because of Project Catie.”

Primakov nodded and took out his notebook. He liked to pretend to take notes in the presence of superiors.

President Petrova continued, “Recently I have discovered an uber-secret, ultra-insane Stalin era project, which how shall I put it… has been tragically forgotten…”

Primakov agreed, “Tons of cool projects were flushed down the drain, Madam… especially in the 90s.”

“Well, this isn’t from the 90s, it’s from the 40s… 1945 to be exact.”

“Whoa that’s insane Madam.” Primakov wondered if he should temper his fake enthusiasm. Secret Projects… please.

“Project Katie, is essentially an ICBM that looks like a regular airliner. So we are going to tell the world that we are reviving the Tupolev program, specifically the Tupolev — 420. You see where I am going?”

Primakov realized where the President was going, “Oh yes. We make a show as though we are building a real airliner but we are actually producing a large number of ICBMs…”

The President nodded.

“… The west will disparage it and maybe even crash it into an Indonesian volcano. And we will build a handful of real prototypes for the world to pee on, but then we build hundreds of the deadly ICBMs and add them to our Aeroflot fleet.”

The President breathed easy. “Go on…”

“Oh… so when the time comes, we will send in scheduled flights to wherever we want… Vancouver, Miami, etc.”

“Good. But there is one major flaw…”

“Yes, we haven’t built an airliner in three decades and nobody is going to believe us when we come up with one in just a year.”

“Yes. Precisely. So how do we circumvent that…?”

“Simple. We revive an older jet… the Tupolev, Tu-144 to be exact. It still looks very cool. Plus it’s a supersonic aircraft. Given the Kremlin’s backing, I bet our factories in Komsomolsk can churn one out in six months.”

“Perfect. Any further questions?”

Primakov was on a roll. He was conversing with the second most powerful person in the world. “Madam, this is a good idea. But I really don’t see how this is of strategic significance. Or as the Americans say, a game changer. You said this was a Stalin era project right?”

“Mhhmm,” nodded Anna Petrova.