June 14, 2020

  The White House, Oval Office, Washington D.C.

  15:52 Washington D.C. Time | 22:52 Moscow Time

  President Derral had just finished reviewing the latest press communiqué from Foreign Minister Melnikov. It would have been an excellent piece of reporting, were one to overlook the manipulated data. Intelligence from scientific satellites indicated that Russian civilian and military vessels had almost entirely retreated to their home ports, justifying the move as "extensive maintenance" in preparation for Navy Day. To Derral, it was transparently nothing more than a media ploy designed to pacify public opinion.

  As Beijing's aggression became increasingly overt, their former allies had vanished from the front lines, and Washington saw the reality with startling clarity: Russia had completed the withdrawal of its entire garrison from Syria. They had left the bases at Latakia and Tartus hollowed out, save for a handful of UAVs and long-range radars recording every movement of the Global Jihadist Kingdom and local militias. The "Navy Day maintenance" ruse was now merely a thin external shroud; in truth, Russia had shifted its entire weight toward the Far East and the Arctic.

  President Derral knit his brows, staring at the electronic map on his screen. The markers over the Middle East signaled an imminent explosion of instability, while the Far East showed that Russia had concentrated its full naval, air, and long-range defense capabilities there. The carrier Kuznetsov was deployed in the Barents Sea, while early warning radars and S-400/S-500 systems were pushed to maximum activation along the Far Eastern and Arctic coastlines.

  An aide entered the room, his voice low: "Mr. President, Russia's completed withdrawal from the Middle East means they've liberated the resources necessary to fortify their Far Eastern defenses. Any move by China will now face a direct response from the Russian Navy and Air Force."

  Derral exhaled a long sigh, resting his chin in his hand. Deep in thought, he replayed the news clip; it was an obvious justification for the escalating tensions with Beijing. He remained uncertain as to how the new Russian President would handle the situation. Where was Russia's fate headed? That was the question most speculated upon, analyzed, and debated within Congress since the so-called Great Rift first appeared.

  To his eyes, it was a natural disaster of the most extreme order in human history. The rate of subsidence, both on the mainland and beneath the seabed, was incredibly rapid. Yet, that old fox Andrei Vostrikov had remained eerily calm, continuing the process of transferring power to his successor. He seemed indifferent to the reality that earthquakes were ravaging Russia's entire border. As of now, although high-intensity tremors had ceased, the disaster remained one that even Russia did not fully comprehend.

  He understood that conventional assessments of Russia were now virtually useless. For years, Washington had relied on intelligence data, military capability analysis, and evaluations rooted in traditional strategy. But now, Russia was no longer playing by the old rules. Every move was subtly veiled—even gestures that appeared mundane harbored immense power.

  He turned to another monitor displaying the Asia-Pacific map, dotted with radar signals and fleet positions. The Kuznetsov in the Barents was no longer a festive icon, but a spearhead of strategic deployment. The S-400 and S-500 air defense systems on the Far Eastern coast seemed poised to turn any incursion into a failure at the very first stage.

  "So, in your opinion..." Derral said, his voice heavy. "What is the true situation? Is Beijing capable of challenging them?"

  The aide shook his head. "No, Mr. President. Russia has calculated every scenario. They don't need to engage in direct combat if they don't wish to; they only need to deploy their forces appropriately to let China know that any reckless move will be met with immediate consequences. More importantly, this is long-term preparation. The Far East is now the strategic axis—not just a defense, but a springboard to reshape the global board."

  Derral fell silent, his eyes boring into the screen. The strings of digits, satellite imagery, and strategic arrows seemed to tell a story that no one outside of Russia could fully grasp.

  He realized that if a conflict broke out, it would no longer be a local or regional affair. This was a grand game of chess where Russia had moved several steps ahead, and Washington had only just realized it was playing defense.

  A minute passed, and then Derral spoke, his voice weighted: "Prepare the scenarios. There is no margin for error. If Russia wants to teach us a lesson in global power-playing, we must know how to read every move, every sign, every intent. And... never underestimate them, not even once."

  The aide nodded and withdrew to give Derral his privacy. The President remained submerged in his own thoughts regarding the state of the world.

  Damn it. Could Moscow not have taken more decisive action? Why, of all the ways to handle the media, did they choose such a high-risk path? Especially given the current economic climate?

  According to the analysis of American strategic planners, Russia's GDP was projected to contract by as much as five percent over the next two years. With a current GDP of approximately $5 trillion, that represented a nominal loss of $250 billion, not counting the ripple effects on trade, investment, and production capacity. Yet, even with these figures laid out, Derral felt a nagging sense of unease.

  Russia had weathered far worse depressions and survived—even emerged militarily stronger. This rendered pure economic forecasting meaningless if considered alongside their strategic redeployment of power.

  He recalled the CIA report from that morning: Russia's gold reserves were at record highs, while the volume of trade conducted in their national currency was increasing at an unprecedented rate. It meant they had prepared to sever their dependence on the USD, even accepting the sacrifice of a portion of international trade in exchange for autonomy.

  What worried Derral most was that Moscow did not seem to view economic decline as a weakness; on the contrary, they were leveraging it as a political shield, cultivating a "besieged" mentality to bolster internal unity. And for a people so accustomed to hardship, the price of economic recession was perhaps nothing compared to their long-term objectives.

  He swiveled his chair to look out the Oval Office window, his gaze distant. Early summer winds blew outside, but in the Pacific and the Arctic, the air was thickening. Russia had abandoned the Middle East—where the U.S. had once hoped to lure them into a strategic quagmire—and was now erecting a massive fortress in the Far East.

  Derral pressed a hand to his forehead, remembering another issue. It concerned Russia's economy again, which was currently unpredictable in any direction other than Moscow executing a script of national self-reliance.

  It had begun after the oil pipelines to Europe and China were severed by the Great Rift. Russia had pivoted to maritime transport, but total output was less than a fifth of the original volume Europe desired. This further deepened the profound contradictions that had been exploding since 2017.

  Regarding trade, it had been declining rapidly since early 2019. But instead of panicking or rushing into salvage agreements with the West as they had in the 1990s, Moscow had simply cut away the remaining ties. The Russian government carried out a series of measures that, on the surface, looked like self-isolation, but were in fact a transition to a completely closed economy—reminiscent of the Soviet Union at its peak, but modernized with 21st-century technology and management models.

  The linchpin of this plan was the "National Supply Chain." The Russian Ministry of Industry and Trade, alongside the Ministry of Economic Development, had re-established key sectors based on the principle of "zero dependence on components and materials outside the EAEU and CSTO." Mining, metallurgy, chemical, and defense industry projects were all upgraded to meet domestic demand before export was even considered. Agricultural and food processing networks were partially nationalized to ensure supply and stabilize prices, cutting off the risk of an economic attack through food.

  Under the plans of NEDRI, combined with AI systems analyzing demographic, production, and consumption data for targeted long-term planning, they were able to adjust the allocation of state resources almost instantaneously during fluctuations. In Western eyes, this was a return to a "command economy," but in Russia, it was propagandized as "New Century Autonomous Economics."

  Allies in the EAEU (Eurasian Economic Union) and CSTO (Collective Security Treaty Organization) became a ring of satellites, providing raw materials and receiving technology and weaponry from Russia. This not only created a closed market large enough to offset the trade lost with the U.S. and EU but also cemented these countries' political dependence on Moscow. Kazakhstan, Armenia, Belarus, and Kyrgyzstan became specialized production hubs, serving as "satellite factories" for Russian industry.

  Meanwhile, the masterstroke against China was not found in weaponry or overt diplomacy, but in severing the strategic links Beijing needed to sustain growth. Russia proactively withdrew from long-term energy projects with China, instead diverting all oil and gas into domestic reserves and intra-bloc sales. As Russian energy supplies dwindled, China was forced to increase purchases from the Middle East and Africa, lengthening their logistics lines and making them vulnerable to conflict and piracy.

  This policy enjoyed fierce support from the Russian public. After the string of crises from the "Great Economic Catastrophe of 2008" to the American Civil War of 2015–2019, the "Besieged Russia" psyche had become the bedrock of national spirit. State media maximized the imagery of "Fortress Russia" standing firm against the global storm, transforming economic hardship into a symbol of national strength and discipline.

  Derral understood that if this script succeeded, Russia would not only be immune to sanctions and trade wars but would possess a closed yet efficient economic model—something even the former Soviet Union had never achieved. And most importantly: they would have the resources to sustain a long-term counterweight to the world's new number-one superpower—China.

  From Washington's perspective, this was no longer a "post-Soviet Russia," but a Soviet Union 2.0. However, instead of rotting from within, it was nourished by technology, regional markets, and a unity forged through crisis. Such an opponent could persist for decades, while the U.S. and EU were still nursing their own wounds.

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  At that moment, Derral was unsure if the U.S. still had time to change the board. But he was certain of one thing: Moscow was ready for a long war; not one fought on a battlefield, but in every heartbeat of the economy and every political decision.

  Although satellites cannot see what is happening on Russia's Far Eastern border, one thing is certain: Right now, China is retaliating for what Russia has done to them. It isn't just soft or hard measures anymore; it has become a violent response aimed directly at all of Russia's intentions...

  Derral thought so, even if the speculation lacked a completely solid foundation. But China's mobilization of more than twelve mechanized divisions from the interior to the Manchurian border in just two weeks was too clear a signal. The Changchun–Harbin–Heihe rail lines were thick with trains carrying military hardware, including long-range self-propelled artillery, heavy tanks, and tactical missile systems. Satellite signals showed new radar sites appearing along the Amur, accompanied by fortified structures like bunkers and ammunition depots.

  But what made Derral frown most was the activity in the Yellow Sea and the Sea of Japan. Not one, but three carrier strike groups—the Liaoning, Shandong, and Fujian—were conducting simultaneous drills under the guise of "protecting national transport lines." Yet Washington understood perfectly well that this was a display of naval power aimed at Russian waters.

  On the U.S. Navy radar screens, the blips representing Chinese warships moved like a massive swarm of ants. AIS signals were being deactivated en masse, leaving only blurred images from optical satellites, and even civilian cargo ships began gathering in escorted formations—exactly like wartime. This was not only unusual; it showed Beijing was preparing for a sustained state of confrontation.

  Derral gripped the arms of his chair. He knew full well: those three carrier strike groups were more than just a threat. They were political tools, a ticket for China to step into a naval game that Russia wanted to monopolize in the Far East. If Moscow allowed them to plant their flag on the transport lines in the Sea of Japan, the "Fortress Russia" plan would develop a fatal flaw.

  Reports from the 7th Fleet indicated that KJ-600 early warning aircraft and J-15 fighters had appeared repeatedly east of Sakhalin Island. One step across the maritime demarcation line would be a test of Russia's reaction. And if Russia fired first, China would immediately use it as a pretext to unleash a total strike—not just military, but economic and diplomatic as well.

  Derral recalled a CIA analysis from two days prior: Beijing understood that, technically, the Russian Navy in the Pacific was still outnumbered. But Russia possessed superior coastal defense systems, particularly with the presence of Bastion clusters, S-500s, and a subsea sonar network that the U.S. only partially understood. This forced China to choose a more sophisticated strategy of attrition—not attacking the fortress head-on, but seeking to force the opponent to sortie continuously until exhausted.

  So what could compel Russia to proactively deploy troops?

  It was a question that seemed difficult, yet could be solved by something else. But it was extremely risky, and Derral found it hard to confirm if China had utilized it recently. There were reports of a Russian international exclusion zone being attacked by terrorists.

  "Strange..." Derral sat bolt upright, leafing through reports on his desk. They spoke of a force that had attacked the Zabaykalsky and Amur regions.

  CIA reports disguised as freelance journalism again asserted that this was a Chinese strategy to force Russia to "attack" first to provide a pretext. However, once again, this was an incredibly risky strategy, and the result would lead to the kind of total war that every strategist was trying to avoid...

  "Does Moscow know what the hell they're doing?"

  Derral sighed, his eyes dropping to the desk where satellite maps were piled high and thick analysis reports from Military Intelligence and the CIA lay before him. Every snippet of news, every radar signal told a different story, but the aggregate formed a picture of immense risk, where any misstep could turn into a catastrophe.

  "It's not just military..." Derral whispered to himself. "This is a psychological, economic, and information game—all at once."

  He revisited the documents on the recent attacks in Zabaykalsky and Amur. The reports agreed that these were not the actions of a mere local insurgent group. Technical signatures, the scale of the attack, and the target selection pointed to external intervention... and only China had the capability and the motive to organize such a sophisticated campaign.

  A quiet fear crept into Derral's mind: if Moscow were provoked, how would they react? Would Russia accept the risk of total war, or continue to play the defensive game while maintaining the initiative? He understood that, for Russia, every action was calculated down to the smallest detail; but even with those sophisticated moves, they might not be able to predict their opponent's reaction.

  "And there's no telling how the Chinese side will handle the situation. I wonder if Li Huhai can do anything..."

  A part of Derral's mind hoped that Li Huhai, one of the few Chinese leaders with a pragmatic mindset, would find a way to pull the brakes on the downward-spiraling war machine. But he also understood that power in Beijing was no longer absolutely concentrated in one individual. The interior was split into multiple factions, each with its own agenda. The hawks in the Central Military Commission wanted to "strike first" to force a Russian concession in the Far East, while the economic faction feared war would collapse the entire supply chain upon which China depended.

  The latest intelligence brief on Derral's desk showed that in recent closed-door meetings, the hawks were gaining the upper hand. Editorials in the People's Daily had begun to shift their tone, moving from "protecting national interests" to "crushing the threat from the North before it can grow." This sent a chill down his spine, as this kind of rhetoric was usually the prelude to a large-scale military campaign.

  A classified report from Tokyo just sent to the White House confirmed that the Japanese Self-Defense Forces had detected at least four Chinese nuclear strategic submarines leaving the Sanya base, moving submerged northward through the Tsushima Strait. This move was extremely unusual, as it meant Beijing was willing to put even its nuclear deterrent on the front lines—not just to intimidate Russia, but to warn the U.S. and its allies not to intervene.

  Derral stood up, walking to the massive wall map where small flags marked the positions of Russian and Chinese units. He knew very well that if the two sides opened fire, the U.S. would be dragged into a dilemma: intervening meant direct confrontation with Russia and China simultaneously; not intervening meant the total loss of influence in the Asia-Pacific.

  And then, in the silence of the Oval Office, he realized the worst of it: neither Moscow nor Beijing were seeking to avoid a collision anymore. They were testing each other, every day, every hour, to find the ultimate limit.

  Derral slowly returned to his desk and picked up the emergency phone, his voice dry:

  "Call the National Security Council... right now. We are about to have to pick a side in a war that no one wanted, but everyone has prepared for..."

  No sooner had he finished speaking than a man burst into the room as if he were being pursued. It was a trusted aide specializing in Russia–China tensions. He was panting, stooping with a hand on his thigh, sweat pouring down his face as he held a laptop.

  "Calm down. What's happened..."

  "President. Something urgent, very urgent..." Before he could finish, he slammed the laptop onto the coffee table and opened a website. A breaking news report in Chinese was broadcasting some information. Although Derral wasn't fluent, he could catch parts of the basic content.

  "What is this?"

  "About four hours ago, numerous Chinese news outlets simultaneously reported that a massive attack occurred in the Russia–China border area, near the city of Kaptsegaitui in the Zabaykalsky region..."

  Derral stared intently at the laptop screen, trying to grasp every detail of the unfolding broadcast. The aide, still breathless, quickly activated auto-translation software to shift the audio to English. The Chinese news anchor's voice rang out, cold and sharp, as if reading a declaration of war:

  "...At approximately 23:37 Beijing time, a large-scale attack occurred in the Zabaykalsky border region of Russia. A large Russian force at the battalion level attacked across our border, near a village here, causing severe damage to Chinese civilian and military facilities. The Beijing government has strongly condemned this action, viewing it as a blatant violation of border agreements and an unacceptable act of war provocation. The Central Military Commission has ordered the armed forces to be placed on the highest state of alert. We call upon the international community to condemn Russia's actions and demand that Moscow immediately withdraw its troops, pay compensation, and take responsibility for this act."

  Derral felt the blood in his veins run cold. He turned to the aide, his voice low but taut with tension: "Is this real, or just a propaganda ploy?"

  The aide shook his head, sweat still beading on his forehead: "Mr. President, we don't have independent confirmation from intelligence sources yet. But satellite imagery from the Kaptsegaitui area before the signal was lost shows signs of a major assault; fires, explosions, infrastructure destruction, and the presence of mechanized units. However, the strange thing is... there are no clear signs of a battalion-sized Russian force crossing the border. This could be a staged event, or a misunderstanding exaggerated to create a pretext."

  Derral knit his brows, his hands gripping the chair. He knew that if this were true, the situation had spun out of control. But if it were a ploy by Beijing, they were playing an incredibly dangerous hand, pushing the world to the brink of war. He issued an order immediately: "Activate the hotlines with Moscow and Beijing. I want to speak directly to both sides. At the same time, demand that the CIA and NSA analyze all satellite data, electronic signals, and communications from the region over the past 24 hours. I need to know exactly what is happening, and who is behind it."

  The aide nodded and hurried from the room to execute the order. Derral turned back to the laptop screen, where the Chinese broadcast continued to loop with images of smoke and ruin at the border. He realized that whatever the truth, this incident had fundamentally changed the landscape. If Russia had actually attacked, it was a reckless move beyond expectation. If China had staged it, they were ready for total confrontation, regardless of the cost.

  While waiting for the connection to Moscow and Beijing, Derral opened another report on his desk—a classified document from the Department of Defense analyzing Russian and Chinese military capabilities in a Far Eastern war scenario. The report emphasized that while Russia had the advantage in coastal defense and advanced weaponry, China was superior in numbers and the ability to sustain a war of attrition. If conflict broke out, Russia could hold out for several months with a defensive strategy, but China could leverage its vast resources to prolong the war, forcing Moscow to exhaust its resources and eventually collapse.

  Even more concerning was the role of the U.S. in this situation. The report warned that any American intervention, whether supporting Russia or China, would trigger a chain reaction from allies and adversaries alike. Japan and South Korea would be forced to pick a side, while Europe—already struggling with an energy crisis after Russia cut supplies—would fall into a state of total paralysis.

  Derral tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, trying to rearrange the pieces in his mind. He knew time was running out. A war between Russia and China would be more than a regional disaster; it could drag the entire world to the edge of a global conflict. And America, whether it wanted to or not, could not remain on the sidelines.

  Just then, the emergency phone on the desk rang. A liaison officer from the Pentagon reported: "Mr. President, we've just received a signal from Moscow. They completely deny the border attack allegations and assert that this is a Chinese fabrication. They say they are ready to provide radar and satellite data to prove no Russian units crossed the border. However, they also warn that any military action from China will be met with a 'total and uncompromising' response."

  "Beijing is refusing the hotline, Mr. President. Instead, they've just issued an official statement via Xinhua, demanding Russia withdraw its troops within 8 hours, or face 'appropriate military action'."

  The threat caused the air in the Oval Office to thicken. Derral understood that in the next 48 hours, every decision he made would shape not only the future of America, but the world order itself. He ordered: "Assemble the National Security Council immediately. I want every scenario, from negotiations to military intervention, on the table within two hours. And... contact Tokyo, Seoul, and Brussels. We need our allies ready for anything."

  As the liaison officer left, Derral turned back to the map on the wall. The small flags representing the military units of Russia and China seemed to be moving—not on the ground, but in an invisible chess game where each side held a lethal card. He wondered:

  Is there any way to stop this war machine before it's too late...?

  In a moment of stillness, a thought flashed through Derral's mind: "If both Russia and China are playing a grand game of deception, then the one behind this border attack might not be either of them. But... if not them, then who?"

  The question hung suspended, unanswered, while the clock on Derral's desk continued to tick away the seconds, drawing the world closer to an inevitable storm.