The Los Angeles incident sent shockwaves around the world. It was a massive riot erupting on American soil—the most severe since the nation's founding, far surpassing even the New York draft riots. Globally, people mourned the tragedy. Even the Soviet Foreign Ministry issued a formal condemnation of the violent mobs.
Yet, government statements were often superficial. Meanwhile, newspapers controlled by Soviet propaganda spun a very different narrative, universally questioning U.S. actions:"Why is the death toll so low in such a massive riot? Is the government hiding the truth?""Why are guns being pointed at innocent civilians? What drove them to resist tyranny with arms?""This is a land where the seeds of evil blossom. Under Washington's iron grip, Americans see no future or hope."
And, of course, the classic Soviet refrain: "It's a systemic problem." Though American elites weren't fooled, this propaganda easily deceived the naïve, especially as some American outlets eager for chaos reprinted these claims.
This was the Soviet Union's propaganda strategy: mirror the U.S.'s own self-criticisms back onto it, claiming the moral high ground. But the Soviet propaganda machine had become rigid and bureaucratic, allowing American countermeasures to infiltrate and counterattack.
Meanwhile, the riots raged on. After days of brutal fighting, the U.S. military and police had suffered nearly 100 casualties but finally regained control over most of Los Angeles. Black residents were forcibly removed from their homes, loaded into vehicles, and taken to makeshift detention camps. There, they were interrogated and vetted before allowed back into the city.
Stripped of their base, the rioters retreated block by block until they were holed up in their headquarters building. There, their leader ordered residents seized and held hostage in a single room, while the entrances were rigged with mines and bomb traps. This was their last stand, an attempt to force the government into negotiations.
But any hope for compromise was shattered by President Mario's resolute speech. Upon receiving the rioters' demands, he declared:"The U.S. government will never negotiate with terrorists or rioters. We will eliminate all anarchists who threaten federal authority. You will be punished as you deserve."
His fiery televised address was cut off from the building, so the hostages remained unaware. But the black militants trapped inside heard none of it.
At the Kremlin, Yanayev said nothing aloud, but secretly sneered: "You backed Chechen militants and caused Beslan. Didn't expect such swift payback." Still, America was the 'land of freedom.' Even if more than 30 hostages were at risk, the U.S. chose to free the building quickly—a disregard for life that the 'dictatorial' Soviet Union could not match.
After three days of stalemate, Commander Swart approved a violent breach. The plan: storm the building simultaneously from top and bottom, seize critical points quickly to trap rioters, then clear each floor systematically—forcing the terrorists to the rooftop for final annihilation. The hostages' safety was secondary; too many had already died, and continued unrest threatened the city's stability.
Under orders from the mayor and police chief, Swart's team began their assault. Carefully disabling mine tripwires, they stealthily entered the building, silencing patrols on the first floor with suppressed weapons. After securing the bodies, they advanced cautiously to the 21st floor—a daunting task.
Meanwhile, a second team was airlifted by helicopter to the roof. As they breached the top floor, a sudden volley of sharp Kalashnikov fire erupted. Mayor Tom Bradley, monitoring via radio, turned pale. Beside him, Brian's grim expression confirmed what they feared—their political careers were at risk.
The firefight was fierce. The black militants, armed with weapons bought from Los Angeles drug cartels—including grenade launchers—put up stubborn resistance. Swart's assault team was prepared; some carried M203 grenade launchers to counter the rioters' firepower.
Following the initial breach, Swart's backup force pressed forward, using superior numbers and tactics to push the militants to the last floor and prepare for the final assault.
The plan worked. Though casualties mounted, the SWAT teams gained control of most floors, confident of victory. Even if some hostages suffered, it was preferable to endless chaos.
After three hours of brutal combat, the black militants were either killed or surrendered. Only one room, holding the hostages, remained intact. The assault team carefully placed explosives on the door handle, and after securing the perimeter, detonated the charges.
The door blew open. As the police entered, they froze in horror. More than 30 hostages were bound to chairs, their bodies wired with remote-controlled bombs. Around their necks hung signs mocking the government:"We died for freedom and justice."Signed, "Jock."
Nearby, a white man hurried past with hands in his pockets. Nobody noticed him—everyone's attention was on the building. He whistled softly and pressed a red button on a hidden remote.
Who said the leader of the black riots in Los Angeles had to be black? Or even American?
A faint, chilling smile touched the man's lips.
Then, the building exploded in a blinding inferno, erupting into a deafening roar.