The beginning.

From the Story Arc: The march of time.

Next Story in the Arc: Seeds of the modern world. by Uncle Joe. (Tuesday, December 26, 2006)

(posted Tuesday, December 26, 2006)

Part 1. The beginning.

July, 14th 1941. Moscow, U.S.S.R.

(Three weeks after the beginning of Operation Barbarossa.)

The cool of the hallway outside Stalin's apartments in the heart of the Kremlin gave a false security on a oppressively hot summer day and the reality for one Vyacheslav Molotov was grim, the agreement he had forged with the imbecile Ribbentrop was broken, and not by the Red Army. He had known it was a bad idea, but Joseph had his eyes fixed on Poland, and the resources within it's borders. Now they would be fortunate to hold the Motherland west of the Urals if the advancing German juggernaut was not stopped soon. Outside the door to Stalin's office Molotov spied Lavrenti Beria, Stalin's beast waiting the call of his master, like the good dog he was. Molotov had nothing against the head of the N.K.V.D. personally, he just did not trust the man to have the best interests of the party in mind. And to a master of politics like Molotov, that was inexcusable.

"Has he come out yet?" Asked Molotov.

"Nyet comrade, nothing since she came to.....consult the premiere."

The look of disgust was plain on Beria's face, and Molotov suspected that the attention given to the mysterious woman from the east cut the lackey deep. If not creative Beria was loyal.

"We should never have let her back into the country, she is a loathsome creature, a product of the old order, the whore of the Tsar!" spat the head of the secret police.

"And the undying teacher of Rasputin, daughter of BaybaYaga if we are to believe the old peasant stories." Smiled Molotov

"Bah!" Beria turned away and began to pace back and forth. As head of the N.K.V.D. Beria held a great deal of power and influence, but not as much as Molotov, and as such could not just demand the time of the Premier. Molotov was not restricted by such formalities, and besides he was not just the Soviet Foreign Minister, he was also Stalin's friend. Entering the office Molotov found Stalin seated at his desk, his head in his hands, looking blankly at a map of the Union covering the desk and half buried under reports and requests from the now shrinking front.

Looking up Stalin regarded his protege, the premiers eyes were tired, and angry. Vyacheslav Molotov did not become the foreign minister by being foolish, and antagonizing Stalin when he was in one of his moods was a sure fire way to collect an ounce of lead in your skull.

"You have come here to tell me you were right.....comrade Molotov." The leader of the Union finally said after a long wait.

The question was full of veiled malice, but unconcerned Molotov spoke his mind.

"Joseph, you made a mistake nothing more. Now we have been shown the true face of the Nazi's. You have a decision to make now, you can brood over what has happened and loose the motherland, or you can rally the people to this cause and repel the invader from our lands."

The glare that Stalin gave his understudy was long and flat, than the leader of the Union sighed and looked out the window over looking red square.

"I have error ed friend. badly.....there are no competent generals for the army.....we have lost most of the super powered citizens and solders......all to secure my position........and for what? To loose the Soviet state to Hitler?"

"That is not true back Zhukov and his forces from the east."

"And offer Siberia to Japan? Nyet."

"Japan will not risk our anger again comrade, they have enough problems trying to bring China under there control."

"Mao is a cleaver and ruthless are sure Japan will not Invade the east?"

"I have it on the best of authority that Japan and America will be in conflict by the end of the year comrade premier."

Stalin raised his eyebrow's at that statement.

"I see, and are the Americans aware of this?"

"How can they not be, they are forcing the Japanese into that position with there embargo's. But that is not why I am here."

Molotov placed a file in front of Stalin and waited for him to finish reading.

"Can this be true?"

"Dr. Razmonatof believes it can be done, and he has the support of our scientific community, we need to do this Joseph....
we can't expect comrades Hammer, Sickle, and Pravda to be everywhere....we need more hero's if only to encourage the people to fight."

Molotov waited quietly as Stalin thought it over.

"Call Zhukov back. Tell him to bring his men, it will take time to muster them and bring them west."

"And what of Dr. Razmonatof's project?"

The silence was deafening to Molotov as Stalin mulled his decision over and over. Final the leader of the Soviet State looked at his friend and uttered two words.

"Do it."