If there are two countries bordering the Soviet Union that both hate and fear it, they are Turkey and Poland. Poland, once forced into the Soviet orbit, became the vanguard of anti-Soviet and anti-communist movements after regaining independence in 1989. Originally, Lech Walesa, as Poland's president, sought to emphasize Poland's role as a major Central European power and pushed for friendly ties between Germany and Russia. But since the Soviet Union never fractured, and to prevent another Red Revolution, Walesa fully aligned with the Western camp. As a loyal NATO dog, Poland was even more zealous than the United States in opposing the Soviet Union.
To this end, Poland accepted the CIA's establishment of an intelligence base inside its borders to support anti-Soviet factions in the Baltic states. In the so-called "Revenge Camp," nationalist extremists from Latvia, Lithuania, Ukraine, and Estonia trained in the rugged Podlaskie Province, near the Lithuanian border, preparing to infiltrate and destabilize Lithuania.
Terry Shepard, a member of the U.S. Green Hat Special Forces, was deployed to the CIA base in Poland to instruct these insurgents. They learned to wield Kalashnikov rifles, coordinate tactics, and conduct guerrilla warfare against the Soviet army. Positioned just 20 kilometers from the Soviet border, the base was ideal for infiltration and quick retreats.
Of course, the Americans denied direct involvement in regime overthrow; they merely supported rebel agents to harass the Soviet Union long-term. As a CIA dagger, Terry had cultivated opposition forces across communist nations—from Vietnam to Eastern Europe, from Soviet republic borders to China and southwest regions. Their American instructors didn't care whether their pupils fought righteous armies or innocent civilians—only that U.S. interests were served. They willingly trained executioners if it benefited the country.
Just now, Terry had received orders from Intelligence: the troops were ready to infiltrate the three Baltic countries and spark an independence crisis like Yugoslavia. But Terry opposed the plan, warning his soldiers weren't prepared and fearing they'd perform as poorly as the Tibetan thugs.
The Intelligence Bureau, however, would not heed an instructor's concerns. Soon, these Baltic insurgents were loaded onto trucks bound for Lithuania via secret routes, while ships filled with armed soldiers prepared to land on Baltic beaches, all poised to overthrow regimes.
A strange unease gnawed at Terry, as if unseen eyes were watching. He looked up at the moonless night sky, and his anxiety deepened amid the oppressive darkness. He tried to convince himself that after this mission, he would finally get a long vacation back in the States.
Meanwhile, at a military base in Lithuania, an A-50 airborne early warning aircraft took off, tasked with monitoring the rebel training ground. The GRU special forces had tracked the base for days, sending constant intelligence back to headquarters.
Today, the KGB's Foreign Intelligence Service decided to close the trap and wipe the base off the map. Putin handed the bold operation plan to Yanayev. This time, special forces wouldn't conduct a covert raid—after all, a 300–400-strong force couldn't be tackled by a small team.
Putin's plan stunned even Air Force Commander Shaposhnikov. It boiled down to one word: accidental bombing.
"You mean use cruise missiles to bomb the base, then claim it was a mistake?" Yanayev's heart raced, feeling the razor's edge beneath his feet.
"Yes. The bombing must occur just as the militants cross the Lithuanian border. That's the only way to make it believable. A group of unknown militants enters Lithuania from Poland, clashes with Soviet border guards, then the Air Force launches fighter jets who mistakenly bomb a target several kilometers off, causing the 'accidental' strike."
"Captured militants will confess they were trained in Poland and sent to carry out sabotage. All will be arrested."
Putin even scripted the aftermath. The Deputy Minister of Internal Affairs perfected the narrative. Even if the Soviet Union 'accidentally' bombed Polish territory, the confessions of the infiltrators would force Poland to swallow the bitter pill. They could choose to retaliate or become enemies of the Soviet Union—but the USSR would remain justified and militarily dominant.
As the A-50 shadowed the militants' movement, the Soviet Air Force scrambled Su-27 fighters towards the Poland-Lithuania border.
The militants, marching blindly through the night, had no clue what awaited them. These fanatics believed their plan flawless and expected to reach Vilnius soon. But little did they know—they were just cannon fodder for the CIA, pawns in a dangerous game. In the end, Director Gates and Vytautas were simply exploiting each other.
The trucks appeared clearly on the Su-27 fighter's cockpit screen. The flight crew had already locked onto the convoy, waiting for the final order from Air Force command. The incendiary bombs loaded on the missile racks were ready to unleash destruction at a moment's notice. With a single command, everyone on that screen would be reduced to ashes.
"Polar Bear One is ready. Requesting authorization to engage," the pilot reported to headquarters. Because this operation was a joint effort between the Ministry of Internal Affairs and the military border defense, Putin had no authority to give orders—and such a mission wasn't fitting for his position anyway.
"Authorization granted. Attack," came the terse, decisive command. The seven trucks rolling through the night had yet to realize the danger closing in.
Once authorized, the pilot released the incendiary bomb. The black-and-white night vision showed only the stark white shapes of the trucks cutting through the darkness.
The armed man riding shotgun leaned out the window, catching the distant whistling sound growing louder and sharper. Suddenly, bright fireballs erupted, lighting up the night sky. The incendiary bombs exploded, scattering flammable liquid and engulfing the convoy in a blazing inferno. Even the driver, watching the action on the grayscale display, could feel the violent impact of the blast.
As the trucks turned into burning tombs, Ministry of Internal Affairs troops waiting nearby began to close in. They weren't there to rescue anyone or douse the flames—they were there to prevent the armed men from escaping the inferno. Their mission: to watch these hated rebels burn, especially those who somehow survived the blast. Trapped in the searing napalm, the survivors clawed at their own flesh, desperate to relieve the unbearable pain.
One figure, barely recognizable through the flames, tried to break free. But just as he stepped forward, an officer drew his pistol, stepped up, and fired a single shot to the head. Then, with a brutal kick, he shoved the body back into the fire.
"God will forgive your sins. We're just here to send you to Him," the officer muttered, lighting a cigarette and savoring the agonized wails rising from the burning wreckage.
This was a warning from the Soviet army to militants across the border: defy us, and this is your fate. The enemies of the Soviet Union would perish in flames, leaving nothing behind.