102 meters below the Tiraspol Kremlin
It wasn’t everyday that both the President and the Prime Minister of the Democratic People’s Republic of the United Socialist States of Pridnestrovia were together in the same room. This was for the purposes of the continuity of government, since the Prime Minister was supposed to be next in the line of succession upon the death or incapacitation of the President. In fact, that was how Durag Nikovgorodiev ascended to the presidency of Pridnestrovia, as he was the sitting Prime Minister when the previous President at the time, Stepan Stepanovich Stepanenko, passed away in his sleep. But on this very rare occasion, it was decided that having both the President and the Prime Minister in the same location was worth the potential risk of losing them both in a potential nuclear attack on the capital. The presence of both of them was needed anyway because of the protocol that they needed to follow for what was to come next.
President Durag Kirilovich Nikovgorodiev and Prime Minister Raisa Innokentiyevna Fedorenko were inside a room labeled Secured Area Alfa-156, which was part of a complex network of bunkers and tunnels underneath the Kremlin in Tiraspol meant to shelter and protect the central government in the event of a nuclear war between Pridnestrovia and its enemies. In recent years however, the bunkers had been used more as secure command centers with a reduced risk of enemy interference. Nikovgorodiev and Fedorenko were in Alfa-156 alongside selected members of the General Staff of the Pridnestrovian Republic, as well as the National Security Committee. They were there to watch the progress of what was by now the third mission to capture the rogue Ceroatian warlord Edwin Chudovsky. The commander-in-chief had trusted first the 50th Motor Rifle Division and then the Pridnestrovian Airborne Forces to capture Chudovsky, but after the warlord had slipped through their fingers twice already, when Nikovgorodiev approved a third operation to nab Chudovsky, he insisted that he and Prime Minister Fedorenko be kept up to date on the entire operation, from insertion into enemy territory to the conclusion, successful or otherwise, of the operation.
There was a massive screen on the far wall of the bunker, and at the moment it was showing the face of Major General Yaroslav Mikhailovich Yevin, commander of both the 50th Motor Rifles and the Pridnestrovian Intervention Forces in Ceroat. Yevin had been giving status updates on the campaign in both the Northwestern and Southern Provinces when he was interrupted by an aide who handed him a message. Yevin read the message, and then he looked back up at Nikovgorodiev. “Sir, this message just came in from the collector team,” Yevin told the President. “It says that half of the team has already been captured, and that the other half is in danger of suffering the same fate.” Yevin paused for a moment before he was able to speak again. “The team is requesting Option Antioch.”
“Goddamn it,” Nikovgorodiev muttered, and then he leaned back and closed his eyes as he rubbed his face. He then opened his eyes once again and asked, “Is there anything more on the message, General?”
“Negative, Comrade President,” Yevin shook his head. “That was all they told us.”
“That Chudovsky fellow really is a slippery son of a bitch,” Nikovgorodiev muttered again.
“Sir, we need a decision now,” Yevin said. “Time is of the essence. Do you approve of the use of Option Antioch or not?”
Nikovgorodiev went silent for a moment as he thought about the decision and its potential consequences, and then eventually he nodded. “Yes, I approve,” he said. And then, for the record, he repeated, “The Comrade President approves the use of Option Antioch.”
“The Comrade Prime Minister concurs with the Comrade President,” Fedorenko added. “The Comrade Prime Minister approves the use of Option Antioch as well.”
“Affirmative, sir,” Yevin nodded. “Option Antioch is going ahead.”
“May God have mercy on us all,” Fedorenko muttered. She, like everyone else in Alfa-156, knew what Option Antioch was, and what its use could entail not only for the collector team in enemy territory, but also for the entirety of the Ceroatian and Pridnestrovian offensive in the south of the country.
Pridnestrovian submarine K-312
250 nautical miles south of Ceroat
“Incoming message from Tiraspol, Captain,” the communications officer on duty said to Captain First Rank Tanya Nikitovna Kalinina, who then accepted the sheet of paper that the officer handed to her. Kalinina took out the pair of glasses hanging out of the front left pocket of her overalls to read the message printed on it. It was shorter than usual from other messages usually sent by Tiraspol to its fleet of nuclear-powered submarines, but nevertheless it was perhaps one of the most important messages that Kalinina had received in her entire naval career.
TO: COMMANDER, SUBMARINE K-312
FROM: NAVHQ TIRASPOL
OPTION ANTIOCH HAS BEEN EXERCISED BY COLD REFUGE COLLECTORS. K-312 IS ORDERED TO EXECUTE OPTION ANTIOCH ACCORDING TO NAVDIR 6.12.1.
WE SERVE THE PRIDNESTROVIAN REPUBLIC.
PRESIDENT DURAG KIRILOVICH NIKOVGORODIEV SENDS
PRIME MINISTER RAISA INNOKENTIYEVNA FEDORENKO CONCURS
MAJOR GENERAL YAROSLAV MIKHAILOVICH YEVIN CONCURS
ENDS
“Jesus Christ,” Kalinina muttered once she finished reading the message. The details of Option Antioch had only been transmitted to her a few days ago, once she and her submarine had entered its operational patrol pattern 250 nautical miles off the coast of Ceroat. The submarine K-312 was a Project Raketa-class nuclear missile submarine normally armed with 16 Masubukin Ma-9 submarine-launched ballistic missiles, with each missile carrying a warhead with a load of eleven multiple reentry vehicles, but for the purposes of their mission, those missiles had been removed and replaced with the older Ma-3 missile, propelled by liquid fuel and carrying only a single nuclear warhead as opposed to the solid fuel-propelled Ma-9. Also, instead of the normal complement of 16 missiles, the K-312 only carried 15 missiles because of an incident back in 2017 wherein a fuel leak in silo number eight almost caused the sinking of the submarine and the loss of all hands. Kalinina was also the captain of the K-312 that fateful day, and it was through her desperate but determined leadership that disaster was mostly averted, but the result of it was that silo eight had been rendered useless, and instead of being loaded with a missile, silo eight had been loaded with a dummy weight to give the submarine balance in both surface and submerged operations. Now, it seemed, K-312 was about to find itself in the pages of history once again.
“Starpom and zampolit, meet me at the weapons console,” Kalinina said via the intra-submarine communication system, dubbed the “kashtan” due to the mouthpieces’ resemblance to the chestnut. The starpom was the executive officer of the submarine, in this case Captain Second Rank Natalya Aleksandrova Tudenko, and the zampolit was the political officer, in this case Captain Third Rank Lyudmila Yakovlevna Kazirova. Even though Pridnestrovia had long ago dropped any pretense that they were still a communist country under a communist regime, a few things dating back to those days still remained, and one of those was the position of zampolit in the Pridnestrovian Navy. Political education and indoctrination of their crews was no longer as important and relevant to the modern Pridnestrovian Navy, but the zampolitiy remained in their positions mostly because of bureaucratic inertia and because there were not many other places that they could be put. Instead, it was decided that zampolits were to be retrained on more relevant aspects of naval warfare, and now they functioned as additional engineers, weapons or communications officers depending on their training as well as remaining the “third-in-command” of their respective vessels.
Tudenko and Kazirova met Kalinina at the weapons station as ordered, and then Kalinina handed them the message from Tiraspol. Tudenko read it first, and then she handed it to Kazirova. Kazirova waited until she had handed the message back to Kalinina before speaking. “I’m sure that they have their reasons for thinking that Option Antioch is the best possible course of action now, Captain,” Kazirova said.
“I know, Lyudmila,” Kalinina nodded. “But that doesn’t make it any easier at all. Missile keys, please,” she added, and the three of them took out the missile launch keys hanging from their necks. “Yasila, present your key as well,” Kalinina ordered the missile officer, Captain Lieutenant Yasila Markovna Vroyeva, who took out her own launch key. “All keys confirmed and present,” Vroyeva stated.
“Take us to missile launch depth!” Kalinina ordered.
“Missile depth, aye, captain.” Those standing inside the submarine grabbed the nearest available handhold to keep themselves steady as the K-312 descended deeper into the water in preparation for launching its missiles, or in this case, just one missile. Once the submarine was level in the water once again, the four officers then inserted their keys into the proper slots, and Kalinina said, “Turn on my signal. Three, two, one, turn!” The four officers turned their keys, and the missile launch panel lit up. Vroyeva immediately took a seat in front of the panel and called out, “Missiles are standing by and ready for launch!”
“Select single fire mode,” Kalinina ordered. “We will fire only one missile from silo seven.” She then read off the target coordinates, which Vroyeva put into the console. “Set for high altitude detonation.”
“Confirm that we are firing one missile at these coordinates with missile set for high altitude detonation,” Vroyev repeated, and then she rattled off the coordinates to make sure that the correct one had been entered into the missile’s guidance system. As she read off the coordinates though, she recognized where the target was. “Captain, that’s right above the Southern Province frontline!” she cried out, “Or at least it’s very near to it!”
“I know, Yasila,” Kalinina said simply. Vroyeva then turned to Tudenko and Kazirova, who simply nodded their agreement as well. “If you have any problems launching the missile, I can take your place and do it,” Kalinina offered.
“No, Captain,” Vroyeva shook her head. “The missiles are the missile officer’s responsibility. I should be the one to fire them.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Launch the missile!”
“Starpom concurs, Yasila,” Tudenko said. “Zampolit concurs too,” Kazirova added.
Vroyeva nodded her head and took a deep breath, and then she flipped over the plastic cover over the missile launch button. Her hand hovered over the button as she hesitated for a moment, and then Vroyeva called out, “Launching missile seven!” and she pressed the button.
The lid covering silo number seven opened up, allowing seawater to flood the tube. A compressed air ram then pushed the Ma-3 missile out of the silo and into the sea with enough force to make the whole body of the missile breach the surface. An altimeter then detected that the missile was out of the water, and this activated the missile’s propulsion system, shooting the Ma-3 higher up into the sky towards its target.
“Missile launch confirmed,” the sonar officer called out. “She’s away.”
“Take us to periscope depth!” Kalinina ordered. “Raise the radio mast and send a message to Tiraspol. Tell them to order our forces out of the south as soon as possible.” Then to herself, Kalinina muttered, “I hope you guys aren’t still there when that EMP comes.”
EURA 1 - 2 PRIDNESTROVIA
TOMLINSON (10') FOKIN (32')
KAPRIYANOV (76')