Chapter 27
They were angry, and yet at the same time they were happy. The crowds that surged around us were a veritable flux of emotions ranging from extreme anger to almost giddiness about the things going on around them. Certainly it was far more emotion than we had ever seen before from the normally stoic Muscovites.
So far, everything was going pretty much as we had expected. Senior members of the Soviet leadership had arrested Mikhail Gorbachev and declared an emergency across the nation. Boris Yeltsin was leading popular protests here in
Of course there were differences.
Those differences included our presence among the senior staff advising Boris Yeltsin. Say what you will about the man, and historians have always had plenty to say about him, but Boris Yeltsin understood opportunity, politics, and the feelings of the average Russian citizen. He knew that no matter what happened, from this point on his political nemesis Mikhail Gorbachev was ruined as a leader.
The Russian people didn't follow weak leaders. They admired strength, dedication, and would often overlook political ideology if the leaders were strong enough. Because of the coup, Mikhail Gorbachev would never be viewed as a strong leader. Boris Yeltsin, by standing up to the coup plotters, was granted an aura of strength that resonated with the general public, and they were listening to his calls for meaningful reforms.
Davey, our friends, and I made only a few contributions to the events of those days. In the five minutes the two of us had alone with him in the first day of the coup, he listened to our passionate speech about dealing with corruption. We spent three of those five minutes doing our best to convince him corruption was a big enough problem that it must be dealt with quickly once the coup was ended.
"Do you have plans on how to do this?" He asked us with a shrewd look when we were done.
"Da." Davey said firmly. We were seated in Yeltsin's office and had brought briefcases with us. My lover took a large folder out of his briefcase and put it on the Russian President's desk. Yeltsin frowned before picking up the file that was five inches thick, and leafed through the first set of handwritten pages barely skimming over the text.
"You have detailed plans." He said simply as he shut the file and handed it back to Davey who took it quickly. It was a good thing Yeltsin had not looked past the first fifteen handwritten pages, because most of the rest was just filler, used to make it look thicker. We had counted on his disinterest in details and the thickness was really meant to just impress him. "Give me a one-page paper with talking points."
"Will these do?" Davey asked, pulling another piece of paper out of his briefcase and handing it to the President. Yeltsin looked over the handwritten paper quickly and then nodded.
"You come prepared." He stated gruffly.
"We believe this is a very important issue." I said firmly and he nodded again.
"Many of my closest advisors will not be happy with this." He stated.
"In the interest of moving forward into a new era, it might be good to offer a general amnesty for past wrongs." Davey suggested with a shrug.
"Include Black Marketers and others in the amnesty." I added. "We can use their skills. They are able to move goods past the borders, under the noses of security while we cannot move goods from farms or factories to the markets on the legal roads."
"You two will organize this." He said firmly, giving us everything we had hoped for, and more. "I will see you outside."
"Thank you, Mr. President." Davey said as we stood and left the room.
The other contribution that we made came on the day Boris Yeltsin stood on the tank in
In the last timeline, our children had never really understood the concept of the
It was about more than just nuclear weapons being pointed at each other, and global games of brinkmanship. For as long as there had been countries and governments, such games were played. The dangers of the Soviet era were about more than just geopolitics. It represented a philosophy, an outlook on life that was antithetical to all the principles most Americans held dear.
At its core, communism eliminated the ability to make a better life for yourself through your choices and actions. Yes, you were allowed some choices, but it regulated your choices, and your rewards for excellence. It eliminated the rewards inimical in doing a job to the best of your abilities. Whether you were a doctor, a factory worker, or a farm worker, it left you in the same situation. What motivation was there for a person to excel in their field?
Further, it required a strict adherence to the communist philosophy. Those who dissented, or believed otherwise where shunted aside, and not given the opportunities of others who at least mouthed loyalty to the communist party. That was one reason for the inherit corruption that existed in the Soviet government.
"This is absolutely amazing." Todd whispered in English as we watched Yeltsin berate the troops for supporting the corrupt coup plotters. Around us the crowd surged again, and I smiled at Davey, wanting to hold his hand, but knowing better than to make such a public display of affection. His smile told me everything I needed to know, although when it turned into a frown, I began to grow worried until I noticed he was looking over my shoulder.
"What is it?" I asked in English and he shook his head, his eyes scanning the buildings behind me. When he turned, I was surprised by his actions and started to turn and look in the direction he'd been looking, but was distracted by him running towards the tank. Davey leaped into the air, tackling Yeltsin and pulling him to the ground. For a wild moment, I thought he'd gone crazy, but I'd caught the flash of something hitting the tank, and heard the grunt from
"Sniper!" Davey yelled in Russian as he covered Yeltsin's body with his own while the President's security people swarmed the two of them. Sean was trying to hold up the much taller Brandon, and Todd, Trevor and I rushed over to them.
Davey had seen the flash of a scoped rifle in the buildings behind us, figured out there was a sniper there, and acted, figuring the target was Boris Yeltsin. The bullet had ricochet off the tank, and hit
Around us, the crowd went wild as they realized someone had just tried to shoot Yeltsin. What had been a relatively peaceful demonstration turned into a full-scale riot, and the soldiers as well as the policemen who had been standing by were suddenly fighting for their lives against the angry civilians. Somewhere another shot rang out, and then another.
"We've got to get out of here." I said as we were jostled by the crowd that was swaying in every direction. Trevor nodded, picking Brandon up and putting him into a fireman's carry as the rest of us tried to clear a path. Yeltsin, and Davey, were already being hustled out of the area by security people loyal to Yeltsin, and we were left to fend for ourselves.
It took nearly two hours to reach a hospital, and only my government identification got
A ring of militia had cordoned off the hospital, just as they were doing with important locations throughout the city. All the television and radio stations were silent, and I was wondering what had gone wrong when a black car was admitted past the security ring. Several uniformed KGB officers got out, and I knew instinctively they were here for me.
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