War

Victor held the list of weapons that General Secretary Yanayev had entrusted to him. The document was split into two parts, each densely packed with weapon types. At first glance, Victor noticed many of the weapons had long been phased out by frontline Soviet forces—obsolete stockpiles like SAM-7 anti-aircraft missiles, Beech surface-to-air systems, AKM rifles replaced by newer models, even old MiG-23 fighters and antiquated anti-aircraft artillery.

"General Secretary Yanayev, are you planning another round of armament modernization?" Victor asked, curious.

Yanayev smiled faintly but shook his head. Victor examined the two lists carefully and noticed their distinction: one list consisted primarily of outdated light weapons—rifles, mortars, and anti-personnel mines—perfect for guerrilla tactics. The other featured mostly obsolete heavy weapons, predominantly anti-aircraft systems. Victor guessed these were intended for two different recipients.

Yanayev suddenly asked, "What do you know about the current situation in Yugoslavia? I want your honest opinion."

Victor was momentarily taken aback—was Yanayev hinting at an arms deal in Yugoslavia? Despite last year's independence wars, the region was still relatively calm.

"The ten-day war between Slovenia and the Yugoslav government last June was just the start of Yugoslavia's unraveling," Victor replied carefully. "The main ethnic groups—Muslims, Serbs, and Croats—are deeply divided over Bosnia and Herzegovina's future. The Muslims want independence with a strong centralized state; the Croats want independence with a loose confederation; the Serbs, led by Milosevic, oppose all separation and threaten to defend their claim with 'iron and blood.'"

Victor continued, "Milosevic commands a fanatical nationalist following and, after Yugoslavia withdrew troops from Bosnia, left behind substantial military assets—heavy artillery, Soviet tanks, fighter jets. Without outside interference, the Bosnian Serbs hold a considerable advantage over the Croats and Muslims."

Yanayev nodded knowingly. "On March 3rd, the Bosnian Parliament will declare independence, despite Serbian opposition. Soon after, the European Community and the United States recognized Bosnia's sovereignty. The civil war has begun—Europe's largest local conflict since World War II."

Yanayev's disdain for Yugoslavia was clear. The country had long obstructed Soviet expansion into the Mediterranean. After Tito's death and NATO's withdrawal of support, the economy collapsed and hidden ethnic tensions erupted.

"Yes, Yugoslavia is a shaky ship in a storm, near its end," Yanayev said, putting down his pen. "The breakup is inevitable. Even Milosevic and Karadzic are mere pawns in this. Unlike the Soviet Union, which still holds nuclear power and global influence, Yugoslavia lacks political capital and must yield to NATO and UN pressure."

"So, these weapons are meant for Croatia and Serbia?" Victor ventured, piecing together Yanayev's strategy but cautious not to speak too openly.

"Exactly. The first list—light arms, mortars, and mines—will go to the Croatian forces, who must pay in U.S. dollars. If they refuse, tell their leaders we'll gladly 'donate' them to the Serbs instead," Yanayev said with a pointed emphasis.

"The second list is for the Serbian army," he continued. "The war will escalate soon, and Serbia will need sufficient firepower to crush the opposition. These older anti-aircraft weapons aren't state-of-the-art, but they'll provide some defense against NATO or UN air strikes. Better than nothing."

Victor nodded, aware of the escalating sanctions and military actions. Since May 1992, the UN Security Council had imposed sanctions, sent peacekeepers, and established no-fly zones. NATO enforced blockades and provided air protection for designated safe zones, but diplomatic efforts had so far failed.

Yanayev added, "The unrest in Serbia will spill over into neighboring Hungary and Romania, new bourgeois states overwhelmed by war refugees. The longer this conflict drags on, the more advantageous it is for us."

He looked Victor in the eye. "It doesn't matter if the Bosnian Serbs eventually lose. If Milosevic and Karadzic follow our lead, even a failed effort could result in a political settlement like the Korean ceasefire—a frozen conflict maintaining Soviet influence."

Victor frowned. "The North Korea–South Korea ceasefire agreement? I don't quite understand what you mean."

Yanayev leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "Before a formal ceasefire is signed, whoever holds more land at the negotiation table has greater leverage. Since the Serbs cannot realistically maintain the entire country intact, the best alternative is to control the majority of the territory. They must expel the Muslims and Croats from what they claim as Bosnian Serb land. While this won't fulfill the dream of a 'Greater Serbia,' it at least ensures they avoid total defeat and retain significant power."

He paused, then added quietly, "It's about compromise—maximizing what you can get rather than swallowing the whole cake, which is impossible now. After such devastation from war and Western sanctions, Serbia's options are limited. Turning to the Soviet Union for support may be the only viable path."

Victor hesitated. "Are we really going against the West? Would they allow us to intervene in Bosnia's fate? I doubt Western Europe would willingly share influence there."

Yanayev's gaze hardened. "Whether they allow it or not isn't decided by Western politicians or ourselves—it depends on the strength of your bargaining chips at the table. Sarajevo has been a powder keg since World War I. The region's deep ethnic tensions, suppressed hatred, and political conflicts are a fuse waiting to ignite—and once lit, could destabilize democracies far beyond."

He added with a hint of grim satisfaction, "Eastern Europe's social instability will hit those new bourgeois governments hard. The soil of communism has never fully disappeared here. When people see corruption and government failure, they take up arms against the ruling elite—just as they resisted communism before."

Yanayev's voice lowered, heavy with implication. "The Soviet Union still casts a long shadow over Eastern Europe. If I can manage the chaos in Yugoslavia properly, the displaced refugees—especially the *** refugees—will flood Western Europe like a nightmare."

He smirked. "No refugee will choose a communist country. Decades of Western propaganda have painted communism as godless and faithless. But Western Europe, with its welfare systems, is a magnet—both for those fleeing conflict and for those seeking better lives."

Yanayev's plan was ruthless but clear: flood Western Europe with refugees displaced by war—ignited and fueled by Soviet-supplied arms—to create political chaos. The 'white left' activists who champion open borders and humanitarianism would be overwhelmed, their ideals clashing with the harsh realities.

It was still a challenge to move such a conspicuous shipment of weapons from Ukraine through Hungary or Romania, but as Victor said, no government official in any country turns down a profitable deal. If they did, it only meant your bargaining chips weren't high enough. After a hefty bribe to the leader of the garrison troops at the Romanian border, Victor's convoy crossed without issue.

Before parting ways, the general—once a staunch communist official turned opportunistic warlord—clapped Victor on the shoulder. "If you have any troubles in Romania, come find me. I'll get you out, no questions asked."

Victor smiled faintly but said nothing. In the arms trade, some promises are best kept unspoken. Success meant navigating the loyalties of many, and the leader of a small country could be a priceless ally or a deadly enemy.

The convoy soon crossed into Serbia. The sky hung heavy with gray clouds, mirroring the volatile political climate. The streets seemed drained of life, the usual buzz replaced by a tense, hurried silence. A few figures darted across the roads, faces anxious, eyes searching the gloom.

Victor pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and inhaled deeply. The cold air bit at his lungs as he exhaled slowly. When his guards asked why the city looked so desolate, Victor replied, "After Tito's death, and when Gorbachev took over in our country, the Soviet Union's reforms opened markets. The West thought Yugoslavia was no longer strategically important."

He glanced around before continuing, "Yugoslavia was non-aligned, trading with the European Community and the U.S. Reagan's administration even produced reports aimed at toppling the Communist Party here and pushing Eastern Europe back into capitalism—a policy of peaceful evolution."

Victor's tone grew darker. "But Yugoslavia's problems only worsened. The 1973 oil crisis and Western trade barriers stalled its growth. To cope, they turned to the IMF for loans—loans that came with conditions. Market liberalization became mandatory. By 1981, their foreign debt had ballooned to nearly two billion dollars. Unemployment soared, especially in the south, while the north's richer regions begrudged subsidizing their poorer neighbors. Economic crisis fanned ethnic tensions, pushing the country closer to war."

He crushed his cigarette underfoot, eyes narrowing at the distant skyline. "It's a war fueled by money and desperation. Ethnic separatism grows stronger, and with it, the activity of arms dealers like me. I wouldn't be surprised if there's a Kalashnikov for every hundred thousand people here."

As the convoy rested, Victor turned to his guards. "Enough talking. Get ready. We leave soon."

Night had fallen by the time they reached Belgrade. The arms shipment couldn't come with them to the capital; it was stashed at a secure location. Milosevic had already spoken privately with Yanaev, and the Serbian leader was grateful for Moscow's timely assistance. Former socialist comrades, indeed. Victor sneered inwardly—what socialist ally was Milosevic, a right-wing nationalist?

To Victor, the Soviet Union was no longer a selfless socialist big brother but an imperialist power cultivating regional watchdogs to check NATO's eastward push.

Milosevic welcomed Victor into his villa—a meeting hidden from public eyes. When the Serbian president saw the Soviet arms list, he nearly jumped out of his chair, trembling with excitement.

"Three T-54 tanks, ten Beech missiles, thirteen SAM missiles, 23mm anti-aircraft guns, and a MiG-23 fighter!" Milosevic whispered fervently. "These are exactly what we need. And your price—so cheap. With the Soviet Union's support, we will crush the Croats. Serbia will finally restore the Greater Serbia of the medieval Dušan Empire. The Serbian nation is brave and destined to lead this empire."

Victor's voice cut through the fervor coldly. "This isn't support. It's arms sales. And this—" he tapped the list "—is just a small deal from Yanaev. Bigger deals await the Serbian army."

Milosevic's eyes sparkled. "What big deal?"

Victor leaned forward. "General Secretary Yanaev instructed me to tell you this: you must accept United Nations mediation in the coming conflict. Without agreeing to that, further negotiations will be impossible."

Milosevic's face darkened as he absorbed Victor's words, the weight of the grim reality settling in. His eyes flickered with a mixture of defiance and calculation. After a long pause, he spoke slowly, voice low but resolute.

"So, you are saying the West will use every means—sanctions, bombings, even ground troops—to crush us if we don't yield. Yet, if we escalate, turning Europe into a battlefield, the Soviet Union maintains plausible deniability, preserving its image while we bear the consequences."

He clenched his fists, then met Victor's gaze squarely. "And if we accept your offer, become your pawn to extend Soviet influence into the Mediterranean, what becomes of Serbia's sovereignty? Will we be a sovereign state or just another Soviet satellite, another piece on their geopolitical chessboard?"

Victor shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Sovereignty is always relative in politics, Mr. Milosevic. The price of survival is always compromise. You will have weapons, political backing, and a seat at the table. Refuse, and your enemies will be armed by others—Croats or Muslims—and you will be left isolated."

Milosevic sighed heavily, then leaned back, the weight of decision pressing down on him. "If we refuse, we face annihilation or prolonged war with no allies. If we accept... we may lose much more than land."

Victor nodded gravely. "Yes. But this is the world as it is. War is a game of power, influence, and survival. The Soviet Union doesn't care who wins or loses—only that the West is weakened and that Soviet influence spreads. Serbia's fate is intertwined with that struggle."

The room fell silent, thick with tension. Finally, Milosevic looked away, voice softer but firm: "Very well. We will consider your proposal. But know this: Serbia will never be a puppet without strings. If we become your pawn, it will be on our terms."

Victor smiled thinly, "Terms can be negotiated. The important thing is to keep playing the game."