- Jul 1, 2018
- 2,325
The dull throb of the antique wall clock in Vladimir Putin’s private office was the only sound breaking the pre-dawn silence. Heavy drapes blocked the first light of Moscow’s morning, casting the vast chamber into a cold half-darkness. The President was seated at his familiar oak desk, reading quietly through a sheaf of briefing summaries stamped in red: “STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL – SIBERIAN FEDERAL DISTRICT”.
His concentration broke as the double doors to the office swung open abruptly, a rare and serious violation of Kremlin protocol.
In stepped General Valery Gerasimov, accompanied by two stern-faced Federal Protective Service colonels and the Secretary of the Security Council. Their faces were grim.
"Mr. President," Gerasimov spoke without preamble, his voice low but urgent, "Olenegorsk Voronezh radar is tracking a formation of Swedish military aircraft, a Saab 340 AEW platform and two JAS 39 Gripens performing what appears to be a probing ELINT mission near the Norwegian-Finnish-Russian frontier. The Gripens are flying low, terrain masking, and the Saab is passively collecting signatures. They are deliberately testing our northern radar network."
Putin’s ice-cold gaze slowly rose from the papers.
“Where exactly?” he asked quietly.
"Lapland corridor. They're riding the line between Finland, Norway, and our sector, dangerously close to the border zone. Two Su-27 Flankers scrambled on immediate readiness from Amderma-2 Air Base with full combat load. Intercept vectors plotted. Six minutes to merge."
A faint flicker of irritation crossed the President's face.
“Why am I hearing this here? Take me below,” Putin ordered, rising smoothly from his chair.
Without hesitation, the two FSO colonels stepped forward, removing their holstered sidearms and began flanking the President on either side, speaking rapidly into their encrypted lapel radios. One of them, Colonel Lebedev, murmured into the headset.
“Black Bear is moving. Route One. Presidential Bunker. Security lock active.”
As Putin fastened the single button on his jacket, General Gerasimov fell in behind him, holding a tablet streaming the live radar feed from Olenegorsk.
"Swedish aircraft maintaining distance their so far," Gerasimov briefed as they briskly exited the office, black-shoed steps echoing in the marbled corridor. "But the ELINT pings suggest deep sensor sweeps against our air defense grid. They want to see how we react. This is a calibrated provocation."
Down the long corridor they went, flanked by FSO men with expressionless faces, their jackets bulging where their concealed pistols were no longer rested. Another FSO team swept ahead, clearing the way to the private presidential elevator shaft that led to the Situation Center.
A faint alarm light glowed above the lift door - “Crisis Transfer In Progress”.
The doors hissed open. Putin stepped inside with the FSO close at his shoulder. As the lift began to descend toward the Situation Center two levels below the Kremlin, Gerasimov leaned in closer.
"Amderma-2 reports that the Su-27s will be airborne soon, fully armed, radars hot. ROE authorization standing by. Olenegorsk tracks confirm all three Swedish airframes maintaining separation but Gripens are ducking terrain. They may breach the air buffer for seconds."
Putin’s face remained stone. His hand lightly gripped the steel rail.
“Let them try,” he muttered.
The elevator came to a soft halt. The doors slid open to the Presidential Command and Control Center, a cold, sterile complex humming with activity. Huge screens showed the glowing green arcs of the Voronezh radar feed over the Barents and Lapland regions displaying the Swedish aircraft as amber blips creeping along the edge of Russian airspace. The two Su-27 Flankers marked in hard military green raced up to meet them.
Senior generals, GRU liaisons, and air defense officers snapped to attention as the President entered, the FSO spreading out to secure the perimeter.
“Situation?” Putin demanded sharply as he moved to the central display console.
“Gripens and Saab AEW maintaining distance but clearly probing, Mr. President,” reported Air Defense Colonel Andreev. “Olenegorsk Voronezh picked up the AEW power signature the moment they lifted off from Luleå Air Base. Their ELINT sweeps have been continuous since they hit altitude. Passive mode, no active lock-ons, but clearly recording our low-band and high-band emissions.”
"And our Su-27s?"
"Armed. Ready. Four minutes to intercept zone. No orders to engage, yet."
Putin stood motionless, hands clasped behind his back as he stared at the screen.
“Stockholm wants to see how fast the bear wakes up. Let them watch. But make sure they understand, if they cross the line by a single kilometer... we respond.”
"Understood, Mr. President."
“Notify our embassy in Sweden. A formal protest will be filed. And prepare options, diplomatic... and otherwise. Quietly inform the Air Force and Northern Strategic Rocket Command to increase readiness to Level Two. No announcements. No leaks.”
As aides scattered to obey, the Situation Center’s tense atmosphere thickened. Across the screen, the glowing symbols of the Russian Su-27s closed the distance, weapons hot, radar locked, pilots waiting for orders.
Putin’s gaze did not waver.
“Let them come closer. Let them see what patience costs.”
