Beslan Incident 1

The Beslan incident was orchestrated by Khattab and Basayev, with their loyal deputy, Colonel Madasyev, leading the operation. The 37 militants involved were staunch believers in a radical Islamic ideology. Their attack was meticulously planned and deliberately timed to coincide with the celebration of the anti-Islamic war victory.

News of the incident spread across the Soviet Union faster than the victory parade itself. Leaders of the countries participating in the parade issued statements at the Kremlin, condemning the terrorist attack on innocent children. They decried it as an atrocity "against humanity and peace." Even UN Secretary-General Boutros Boutros-Ghali appealed to the Chechen militants to remain calm, urging them not to harm innocent children.

Only the Western world maintained its usual silence. In truth, those with guilty consciences knew exactly where the Chechen militants' weapons and explosives came from. When the CIA director saw the heartbreaking images of grieving parents on television, he nodded slightly—believing that previous support for the militants was finally yielding the results he desired.

Because the day was the anniversary of the anti-fascist war victory, the terrorists did not seize more than a thousand hostages as they had in history, but just over 300 people. Unlike before, this time the extremists refrained from indiscriminate slaughter. Their goal was political: to force the release of Dudayev, imprisoned in Vorkuta political prison and awaiting execution.

Kalashnikov barrels were pointed at the children, as militants clad in black masks patrolled the corridors with deadly vigilance. They planted booby traps and anti-personnel mines at key points, prepared to detonate them if the Soviet forces attempted to storm the building.

Armored vehicles from the Ministry of Internal Affairs surrounded the school completely. Armed soldiers established a cordon several hundred meters away, separating onlookers from the distraught parents. This order came directly from Yanayev in Moscow, commanding the Interior Ministry troops in the Caucasus to mobilize every possible resource to maintain order. Tragically, some of that year's casualties stemmed from desperate parents who arrived armed and opened fire in chaos, disregarding all orders.

The transparency of the situation enabled extremist sympathizers in the crowd to warn their comrades inside, undermining the special forces' plans for a surprise assault.

The Caucasian people were known for their toughness, and many Soviet soldiers were from the region. Some parents were former Alpha, Signal Flag, or Blue Hat special forces, or Afghan war veterans. In combat skill, these parents were no less formidable than the militants inside. Yet on-site commanders doubted the disorganized, undisciplined crowd could best a heavily armed group.

To avoid interference from bureaucrats out of touch with the reality on the ground, Yanayev handed full responsibility for the crisis to the military. The original Beslan tragedy had been worsened by poorly informed officials, whose decisions led to Alpha prematurely detonating explosives and causing mass casualties in the stadium.

Among the parents by the cordon, many held Kalashnikovs, Makarov pistols, or even Mosin-Nagant rifles with scopes. They shouted, demanding to join the fight to save their children.

Vladimir Putin was the supreme commander at the scene. When Yanayev was absent, Putin coordinated military actions and advised commanders based on his KGB experience. Yanayev himself was unafraid of public attention, but his presence intimidated extremists. The order to annihilate Chechen militants had come from him—the stern, silent man whose gaze chilled his enemies.

But if a female suicide bomber or outside accomplice lurked in the crowd, Yanayev's position was vulnerable. Putin was the perfect figure to manage the volatile scene—a shadowy operative few knew was deeply involved in planning the hunt for militants.

"Parents, please calm down. I understand your pain," Putin said, facing the armed crowd. He spoke gently, seeking to ease their fury. Without his intervention, special forces might have faced fierce battles with these seasoned fighters before even reaching the school.

But even Putin was soon surrounded by nearly a hundred desperate parents treating him as their on-site commander. Though soldiers were present, they couldn't hold back the pushing and shouting.

"My daughter is only six! Let me go save her!" one parent screamed.

"My child, too! I was going to pick him up for dinner!" cried another, tears streaming down red-rimmed eyes.

"It's my son's birthday today. If anything happens to him, I swear I won't let you leave! You stopped me from saving him!" an enraged father threatened, pointing a gun at Putin's head.

Soldiers lunged forward to stop him—but Putin held up a hand.

"I know how you feel," he said softly, stepping closer and pressing his forehead against the barrel. "But your panic won't help. Do you know how many tripwire mines and grenades are planted inside? How many explosives lie in wait? You don't. Charging in now would be a death sentence—for you and the children."

"You may be brave enough to die, but what about those kids? If a firefight breaks out, it will be a massacre. If you think you can do better than the army, then shoot me first and cross over my body. But I will never let innocent children perish because of your recklessness."

Putin's boldness stunned the crowd. The gun was lowered, the angry tension replaced with hesitant silence. Many parents began to put their weapons down, including the one who had threatened him moments earlier.

"I'm sorry for pointing the gun at you, comrade," he said, ashamed.

"It's alright. I understand," Putin replied, patting his shoulder. Then, addressing everyone, he added, "We promise to do everything in our power to protect the children. Please hand your weapons over to the Ministry of Internal Affairs. I worry that an accidental discharge could trigger the militants to start shooting—then there would be no saving anyone."

The parents reluctantly complied. Putin's calm yet firm words had turned their desperation into cautious hope. The crisis of armed civilians could still be averted—if only for now.

"Please be patient. We will resolve this properly and explain everything afterward," Putin assured them.

As the crowd dispersed, one parent stepped forward with a trembling voice. "Commander, please let me fight. I swear, no one will hurt my son."

"Don't worry. The Soviets will not leave a single terrorist alive. Every last one will be executed," Putin said, his tone steely, showing the resolve of a future Kremlin power broker.