NationStates Jolt Archive

Yakutsk, RDU

Ivan Mishin set behind his desk, the last military reports were lying on his desk.

The front seems fine, at least initially the Cots and their TOA allies should suffer complete annihilation by our initial missile attack. But when they bring more forces from the mainland and so the situation will get messy....Rothsky my old friend, how did we come to this? The last time I ruled this country the thought of sending my men against yours never even entered my mind, now its all that I think about. Maybe...maybe a diplomatic solution can be found....I know you are a reasonable man you value your people's lives just as much as I value the lives of my people. Can where still be friendship between our nations? Can we put our differences aside and join together in prosperity like we did so long ago? I have to try atleast, before I let this dog of war loose.

He picked up his phone. And dialed the number he knew by memory, Rothsky's home phone.

"This is Ivan Mishin, an old friend of Mr. Rothsky, please put him on the line he'll recognize my voice."

"One moment please," The soft, feminine voice of Prime Minister's personal secretary said before holding her hand over the reciever on the phone, looking through the open door into the Prime Minister's personal study where Thomas Rothsky, the venerable and world-famous Prime Minister of the Realm of Cotland, one of the mightiest nations in the world sat, working. Rothsky was aging now, and he had therefore allowed his assistants to help him in his work, lessening the workload for the sixty-three year old politician. In Cotland, the retirement age was at sixty-seven but with most professions having an option for their workers to retire at age sixty-two. Unfortunately for Rothsky, he had no such luck in having a written contract where his retirement age was set. However, he did have one card on his hand, and that was the upcoming election next September in which he didn't intend to run. Sixty-four was a good retirement age, especially for someone who had effectively ruled Cotland for the better part of thirty-five years. Now, as he sat reading over the latest intelligence reports from the Siberian Province, the soft voice of his personal secretary, a 1.72 meter tall, twenty-four year old slender woman with beautiful blonde hair, stunning green eyes and a security clearance equal to that of the Prime Minister himself interrupted him in the reading.

"Herr Statsminister?" [Prime Minister?]

"Ja Rebekka, hva er det?" [Yes Rebekka, what is it?]

"Det er en mannsperson på telefonen. Eldre tror jeg. Engelsk-talende med russisk aksent. Han sier at han heter Ivan Mishin og at De kjenner ham?" [There's a man on the phone. Elderly, I think. He speaks English with a Russian accent. He says his name is Ivan Mishin and that you know him?]

Rothsky's face went pale. Ivan Mishin? What the hell? The last time Rothsky had heard that name, apart from random comments from Russian diplomats during the many "skirmishes" the Cottish and Russian diplomats had been in over the years after the death of Mishin and the transformation of the Pushkan state from a trusted ally to a bitter enemy was immediately after his funeral. The man was dead. The man was dead, and therefore, the person claiming to be Ivan had to be an imposter. Rothsky considered for a moment to have Rebekka dismiss the man, but thought the better of it. It would be better if the man got berated by the Prime Minister himself. The elderly politician therefore got up from his comfortable chair and walked into the hallway, the reading glasses still on the tip of his nose. He took the phone from Rebekka and nodded a thank you, dismissing her before placing the phone to his head.

"This is Prime Minister Rothsky." Thomas said, wanting to hear the person on the other end start with his speech or proclamation or whatever before bursting his or her bubble. He was in for the surprise of a lifetime.

"Hello old friend, you might not believe this but this is me. I had no other choice but retire what seems like an eternity ago, but I am back because my people need me...Stepanov is my pawn he represents my will to the Assembly of Ministries. A lot has changed, the world is no longer the same...as we speak sons and daughters of both of our nations are preparing to fight to the death. It is a sad sight...perhaps however it is not too late to prevent their deaths, to tell you the truth when RDU has formed I was outraged at your nation's action more so even when my own people but...now that I think of it, I know you, I know the kind of man you are. Perhaps war is unnecessary, perhaps we can discuss a way to avoid it. Would you agree?"

Rothsky didn't believe his own ears, despite the physician giving him a clean bill of health during the annual checkup last month. This was no prank call. It was the real thing. Ivan Mishin, back from the dead. After a few seconds of silence, Thomas spoke up, still perplexed by the news that Mishin was alive.

"I agree old friend. I agree. Forgive my hessitation in responding, but this is astonishing news indeed. I thought you were dead. Where are you now? Can we meet in person?"

"Yes, I understand. Right now I am in Yakutsk. We can meet in person here or I could perhaps fly to Oslo if you allow me. My physician will probably yell at me and shout something about my heart but for this special occasion I can tell him to go to hell."

"We shall meet in Oslo then, like we did back in the day. I shall make sure that your aircraft isn't impeeded in any way. We have much to discuss old friend," Rothsky said.

"Indeed we do...I can be in Oslo within four hours. It is great to be talking to you again, if current situation is resolved than I can atleast die knowing that my legacy has not been wiped out by those that came after me within my own lifetime. I will see you once I arrive. Goodbye."

Ivan hung up the phone.

Hmm...I will need a jet aircraft ready to go. Stepanov doesn't need to know anything about this right now, he would probably disapprove.

Ivan picked up the phone and pushed a button on the dial

"Yes, this is me, announce to the people that I am alive, don't ask any questions just do it."

He hung up the phone and picked it up again and pushed another button.

"Dictator in Charge speaking, I want a jet to be ready to set out for Oslo and I want it half an hour again. I will be at the airport in 10 minutes and it better be fueled and ready to take off."

He waited half a second for "Yes comrade Stepanov" to come from the other end and hung up. He had several people he could trust and one of them happened to be a driver for the Yakutsk Kremlin. Two minutes passed and he was rolling to the airport in a dark BMW.

[OOC: Let's skip ahead a bit...]

Thomas Rothsky was pacing the floor of the tastefully decorated living room in his expensive apartment in downtown Oslo, not even a spit away from the back of the Royal Palace. The apartment went with the job and was paid for by the State to serve as a home not far from the Storting, government offices and everything else that had to do with running the country, and would be difficult for Thomas to give up when he ended his job next September, if God wished it to be so. According to Rebekka, the flight to Cotland had gone off without a hitch, and the aircraft had been escorted by a pair of Cottish F-25 Typhoon fighters all the way from the moment the aircraft entered Cottish airspace until it landed at Rygge airbase where a military helicopter waited to bring the Russian into Oslo. Now, they just waited for the Mercedes that transported Mishin to arrive.

Finally, the outer door was opened by one of Rothskys security officers, allowing for Ivan Mishin to enter. What met him was a wide hallway painted in bright colors, with various pictures of a personal nature (familiy photos, pictures of the grandchildren, etc) on the walls and on the small table which held the telephone Rothsky had spoken in just over four hours ago. The security detail was replaced by Rebekka, who greeted Ivan in English and walked him a bit down the hallway and in through a set of double glass doors into the large living room.

The living room was tastefully decorated, with a pair of sofas with a coffee table sat in the far corner, with a pair of recliner chairs near the large glass windows that would reveal a pretty view of Oslo had it not been dark outside. A LCD-TV hung on the wall so it could be seen from the sofa group, but it was currently switched off. Near the wide arched entrance to the kitchen, a large dining table stood, capable of seating more than twelve people, comfortably. Yet, in the large room that was the living room, it had room for far more than twelve. Along the other wall, the electronics of the room was situated, with speakers discreetly placed around the room for that surround sound when watching the occational DVD. Currently, a CD was playing discreetly in the background, the female singer singing in Cottish about something. Around the room on the various bookcases and cabinets, family pictures and photos of the Rothskys meeting with celebrities and heads of states such as the King of Cotland, the Emperor of Layarteb, the Emperor of Rome and Ivan Mishin of Pushka, just to mention a few. The room was painted in a peachy color, with an oak floor with a few Persian carpets under the furniture groups. Various decorative pieces and lamps were placed throughout the room. In short, the room gave a feel of elegance while still maintaining that distinct Cottish feeling of being spartan.

Rothsky stood by the window, looking out onto the balcony and the Cottish capital city beyond the balcony when Rebekka said in her soft voice, in English so the guest could understand as well, "Prime Minister, mister Ivan Mishin to see you."

Rothsky turned and faced the man he had thought dead for all these years, and saw that while Ivan had aged significantly, it was indeed Ivan. Smiling, Thomas walked over to Ivan and shook his hand, saying, "My old friend. It is good to see you again," Before indicating for Mishin to follow him over to the sofa group where two gold-rimmed china cups and a large china pot filled with the finest Colombian coffee stood on a silver tray along with sugar and cream for the coffee and a small plate with biscuts.

OOC: This is Ivan Mishin as he is now:

http://gfx.dagbladet.no/nyheter/2004/09/21/kalashnikov_sak.jpg

IC:

Ivan waited for Rothsky to sit down after which he set down himself taking off his winter coat and putting it on his chair, revealing a grey suit with only two medals hanging from it, his most prized possessions. A medal for preserving peace which was given to him by his people right before his death and a medal for bravery which he received fighting as a soldier back in the days of his youth.Those two seemed to be the only ones worth wearing to him, they were given to him not by his subordinates in an attempt to find a spot on his ass they haven't kissed yet he earned them for something he accomplished.

"Heh, you haven't changed a bit my friend and I was the one in retirement or the past 20 years."

He smiled showing off the many wrinkles all over his face.

"Let me start by apologizing to you my friend. You are probably wondering as to why I have been gone all these years."

He took a deep breath.


"Well....simply put I was tired of it, I was tired of the endless struggle that was going on within the communist party at the time. Everyone wanted to take me down, to be boss, nobody wanted to do anything good for the people. Finally I was approached by Alexandr Chorni, he was a cruel man, an evil man. I found out recently that before he joined the communist party he was a mob leader in Prestovsk and sold weapons to many of our enemies even the Neo-Nazis that have eventually rebelled under his orders. He was a twisted man. He came to my office one day and he told me that I had two choices to either leave or watch as he kills off my family one by one and if that didn't work he would start a civil war. He told me he had many supporters within the party. I could have had him dead right when and there, but then another one would take his place and another one. I was getting old, I couldn't bear it any longer so I gave in. If I simply resigned I would still pose a threat to him because people like us we can't disattach ourselves from our nations' troubles completely, where will always be people who would support us and ask us for help if trouble came. So I staged my own death, to protect myself, to protect my family. I understand now that I was selfish, I should have stayed, I shouldn't have allowed my dreams for my country vanish in the hands of a madman. Eventually Chorni was shot after staging a civil war in an attempt to become no more or less the Emperor. He died a traitor killed by a simple soldier's gun. When democracy came and I thought that things would get better, they didn't but by that time I was already too fond of my quiet life of a farmer to come back. Once again I failed my people. However now that our native lands were taken from us I had no choice but to show up. I ask you in remembrance of our old friendship to give our lands back to us in exchange for the new ones we obtained. I am old, soon I will be dead, I want to be buried on the land I was born on....I want to be remembered as a bringer of peace not war and suffering."

Rothsky smiled at his friend as he poured coffee to Ivan, listening to the explanation as to why he had staged his own death, and the request the old man had to make.

"You know Ivan, had this come from any other man, I would have refused it outright due to the recent tensions between our countries. However, I know you. Unless you've changed dramatically these past twenty years, you're an honorable man who holds his word." Thomas said in starting, then paused for a moment, thinking about how to formulate his next words.

"From as far as I've understood, the Russian 'motherland' is the territories on the Russian mainland that currently comprise the Siberian Province. We've got millions of Cots there, citizens who have made a life for themselves there. Still, I believe we could reach an agreement, one old friend to another. I believe that I could persuade His Majesty, the rest of the Cabinet and the Storting to agree to handing over the territories if we recieve some territories which are comparable. I would think that we could settle with exchanging the territories for Yakutia and Chukotka or Yakutia and Madagan."

"Yakutia and Magadan for our motherland is very acceptable. My people will be happy to return to their old homes, to their old lands. Where are a few in the government who will oppose this, but one good thing about being a dictator is that I don't have to ask them."

He smiled.

"Alright than...oh almost forgot, haven't asked you this question for almost two decades. How have your children been these past 20 years?"

Thomas smiled when Ivan confirmed that the RDU was willing to go a peaceful way to reclaim the Pushkan 'motherland', and he smiled even more when Ivan asked him of his children.

"Well, Magnus, my oldest, do you remember him? He's in the Navy actually, aboard a battleship in the North Atlantic. He's chosen the route of the career officer, and I am very proud of him. My daughter Lise is attending the University of Bergen, studying to be a doctor. I'm very proud of both of them. How about your children and family Ivan? I've tried to look for their names, but I haven't been able to see them mentioned anywhere for the past two decades."

"Well Kiril, my oldest son is a nuclear physicist does something that has to do with mass production of medical isotopes. A bit too complicated for me. My younger son Vladimir he is in the army, just been promoted recently to the rank of Polkovnik (Colonel), I had nothing to do with it so I am proud of him. My wife...passed away a few years ago. Not much else has happened, I've been trying to live a low profile, quite life."

He got out his cellphone.

"I guess we can start bettering our relations right now. I got 8 million people on the border I think I am gonna tell them to go home."

He dialed the number.

"Yes, Ivan Mishin speaking, yes, good, so it has been made public. Tell the ministry of defense that I want our forces to return to their bases. Yes, you heard me, do it."

"Indeed," Rothsky said, and listened to Mishin order his troops to stand down. As he was done, Thomas took out his own cellphone and speed-dialed the Defense Minister.

"John, det er Thomas. Reduser beredskapen til grensesoldatene i Sibir til BERSTAT-4. Russerne gjør det samme." [John, it's Thomas. Reduce the readiness of the Siberian troops on the border to BERSTAT-4. The Russians are doing the same.]

The Defense Minister protested, but after a quick and quiet exchange of Cottish words, he eventually agreed to do it, but only after having been promised an explanation later as to the reason. With the troops ordered to stand down, Thomas faced his guest once more.

"Then that's been taken care of. Our troops should be on their way from the border within a few hours, save for the border guards naturally. Speaking of those. With the exchange of territories, would it be possible for us to have a demilitarized zone along the border? Shall we say that within twenty-five kilometers on either side of the border is off-limits to the military unless they've been given special permission and the other party has been informed in advance of the movement? Would the RDU agree to this?"

"It seems reasonable enough. Yes we would agree. Perhaps once all is done with and my nation has returned to democracy, which is what is going to happen now that the threat of war is over, perhaps we should have an embassy exchange between our two countries. Would you agree to that?"

"We would agree to an embassy exchange," Rothsky said, "Like you said, when you've returned to democracy. I hope that the relationship between our two nations can return to as it was twenty years ago, although it will be difficult to change the sentiments of the people over the past twenty years. Still, I'll do my utmost. More coffee?"

"No thank you, I believe we have discussed everything of importance my friend, I must be going. Where is a lot of work that has to be done, a lot of work. I will speak to you again, for now goodbye."

He extended his hand in a handshake.

Rothsky stood and accepted the handshake, nodding to his old friend and followed him to the door where the security personnel waited. As Mishin was about to leave, Rothsky said, "I wish you a safe journey back to Russia, and that we were able to solve this issue without bloodshed. Until next time old friend."

With that, Ivan left and Rothsky waited until the car had left for the airport until he returned to his study and called the King. He had some explanation to do.

[OOC: So that's it, or shall we do the actual change of land in this RP as well?]

OOC: Eh...sure why not, lets RP the exchange if you want

Seven weeks later
The news of the transfer of territories had initially been met with shock by the cabinet, the Storting, the military and the population in general, but after the idea got to sink in, it was generally thought that it might be for the better. The prospects of war again wasn't something people liked, and if war could be avoided, then it was for the better. Of course, the people living in the territories that up until recently were the Siberian Province were unhappy with having to leave, but the promise of vast lands to settle in Yakutia and Madagan and the $50,000 the Government gave to anyone who agreed to move voluntarily helped significantly. The military forces also started preparing to move, and it was quite a feat to be able to move nearly six hundred thousand military personnel and all their equipment. What could not be removed was destroyed beyond any repair where it stood.

As they got ready to settle in in Yakutia and Madagan, the combat engineers secretly visited every military complex used and/or created by the Cottish military in the old territories and carried out General Order 57. When a Cottish military facility was to be abandoned and was expected to be taken over by a foreign force that wasn't allied with the Realm, precautions would be taken to ensure that the facility didn't fall into enemy hands. Therefore, the bunker complexes were essensially booby-trapped to ensure their collapse when someone tried to enter them. Litterarily tens of thousands of tons of explosives, including but not limited to C4, TNT and primer cord was used, and all of it connected to detonators which would be triggered when someone tried to enter the complex. Triple redundancy was placed at each site, ensuring detonation. Passing through the sealed outer doors would be sufficient to trigger the motion sensors which would start the explosion which would completely destroy the complex while causing minimal harm to the people at the entrances. As an additional precaution, the explosive charges had been left with timers as well which would detonate if the complex hadn't been entered within one month after the official handover date. In short, it would allow the Cots to retain the secrets they might have left behind in the bunker complex and completely destroy them while still leaving the Russians without a single casualty. Naturally, the nature of General Order 57 ensured that it would remain a complete secret.

Most of the work of General Order 57 had been carried out during the initial weeks after the word on the transfer had been released, and most of the troops, equipment and civilians had already been transfered into the new territories, and likewise with the Russians. The Cottish mines along the border had also been retrieved for future use elsewhere. For now, only a small symbolical force of one Cottish tank battalion, the 957th, stood near the border between Irkutsk and Yakutia on the Irkutsk side, ready to move into Yakutia. On the other side, a similiarly sized Russian force stood in Yakutia, ready to move into Irkutsk. The fourty-eight M51A2 Sabertooth main battle tanks, twenty-three M60 Spectre fighting vehicles and the twelve trucks of the 957th Panserbataljon were organized in formation at the town square of the small town where the official hand-over ceremony would be carried out, the 419 soldiers that made up the battalion standing in front of their vehicles at parade rest.

Prime Minister Rothsky was present in the town and supposed to sign the official papers which made Irkutsk, Evenkia, Taymyria, Ust-Orda and Krasnoyarsk officially part of the Russian Dictatorial Union, and Yakutia and Madagan officially part of the Realm of Cotland, and after that, he was to drive with the last of the Cottish troops into Yakutia. The entire event was televised in the Realm, and it marked an interesting end of what was arguably the shortest lifespan of a Cottish province.

[OOC: I hope that was okay with you Pushka, doing the actions of the transfer of things. Let's just sign the treaty and the motherland will be back in Pushkan hands. Oh, and whatever is in red writing is considered Secret IC until you try to enter the bunkers.]

OOC: Yeah I got that, question, why don't you just blow up the bunkers before you leave?

IC:

RDU armed forces transportation battalions were hard at work moving the whole gigantic military to Chukotka from where they would be transported to newly reclaimed motherland by sea. Every immobile military installation was stripped of all of its hardware and the rest was imploded to preserve RDU military secrets. Same has been done to civilian nuclear powerplants and to cultivation platforms. The rail-road networks were left alone. Millions of Pushkans were ready to reclaim their homes on their native lands as Ivan Mishin was driven in a black BMW to the signing ceremony. Igor Stepanov was with him as well as two soldiers from the 1st Gvardia dressed in their parade uniforms with their ceremonial Shashkas (russian/cossack swords) hanging from their belts.

The Cottish soldiers all presented arms as the Russian dignitaries arrived, and inside, Thomas Rothsky waited with several aides, secretaries and a whole bunch of media people who were going to broadcast the transfer of territories.

It was all a quite simple affair really. The two leaders would meet, sit down at a table, sign two copies of the treaty each (one for each country), and shake hands. It was a formality, but an important one at that. The treaty had been agreed upon by both the Cots and the Russians, and included in addition to the transfer of territories the establishment of a demilitarized zone along the mutual land border of the two countries running twenty-five kilometers into each's territory, calling for a total width of the DMZ for 50 kilometers.

Inside, Thomas Rothsky got up when Ivan Mishin and his entourage entered the small town hall, and greeted him when he arrived.

"Ivan, it is good to see you again. I believe there are some papers waiting for our signatures. After you." He said, smiling as he motioned for the Russian leader to walk first.

"Of course, of course."

He put his signature on the paper and handed the pen to Rothsky.

Rothsky accepted the pen and then quickly signed the two pieces of paper on the table, handing the pen back to Mishin as an aide returned the two pieces of expensive paper to their leather folders and handed one to Mishin and one to Rothsky. With that, Rothsky extended his hand to Mishin and smiled to the cameras.

Ivan responded with a smile and a handshake.

"Peace and prosperity for both our nations so that our children will live in a world that is better when ours."

He said loudly in English so the reporters could hear him.

"Indeed," Thomas replied, still smiling to the cameras. "I for one am glad to be able to prove that there is another way than conflict in resolving our strifes, and I am glad that President Mishin was brave enough to take the initiative to this treaty, despite the long era of distrust between our two peoples. I hope from the bottom of my heart that this treaty will help to bridge the gap between our two nations, which were once close friends, and to start things anew between the Realm of Cotland and the RDU. This treaty is the first step, but hopefully not the last."

With that short statement, Rothsky shook Mishins hand once again before indicating that they should go outside. It was time for Rothsky to leave this land soon.

Ivan followed Rothsky outside as the whole crowd followed.

"Alright old friend, have a safe trip home."

"And to you old friend. We shall talk again soon. Good bye." Rothsky said before exiting the building, joining the soldiers. After getting into the vehicle he was going to drive in, the nearly one hundred military vehicles started their engines and got moving, cruising at a relaxing fifty kilometers per hour. The journey wasn't long, with the border being only five kilometers away. The formation of military vehicles was followed all the way from the town hall to the border, with the troops watching the territory they had been prepared to die for now being Russian territory once again. It had been an honorable way of dodging the threat of war, and now they were going to enter a new territory to protect and defend. By 12:54 PM on the 19th of January, 2007, the last of the Cottish troops had vacated Irkutsk, thus ending an era.

The new Siberian Province would be the territories of Yakutia and Madagan as well as the islands of Severnaya Zemlya, New Siberian Islands and Wrangel Island, and have a total population of 36 million Cottish citizens, a number that was expected to rise significantly over the next few years, and roughly one and a half million Cottish and one million allied troops defending it. Already, five trillion dollars had been put aside to help upgrade the new province, the funds having been taken from the reserve funds the Realm had in the Bank of Saint Lazare. In addition, each Russian citizen remaining in Yakutia and Madagan after the Russian withdrawal was complete were given a sum of $25,000 and a free plane ticket to Irkutsk by the Cottish government if they agreed to move voluntarily. They were informed of the offer, and also informed of the alternative, which was forceful deportation to Irkutsk. The vast majority accepted the offer, but a few stubborn people didn't. They would be deported within a few months.

The Russians had left Yakutia and Madagan in a shambles, with little remaining in terms of power plants and agricultural installations. That would have to be solved, and the engineers at Cottish Nuclear Energies, Inc (CNE) were commissioned to establish a number of civilian nuclear power plants in Yakutia and Madagan, and to improve and upgrade the electrical distribution system which the Russians had left pretty much intact to Cottish standards. In addition, a lot more roads would be created, and more infrastructure would be established in preperations for businesses to establish themselves in the new province. In addition, a lot of military facilities would be upgraded and constructed, and the redeployment of the Extreme Arctic Warfare Training Center would be carried out. In short, there was a lot to be done, but war was no longer a constant threat.

OOC: About those three islands....can I buy them from you by any chance? As in with money.

[OOC: Maybe. At a later date. Not now.]