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Book One World War Three 1946

Book One World War Three 1946
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Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Stalin Sacrifices a Pawn

Get in here you fool. Where is Vasily.

He just stepped out to relieve himself Excellency. My name is…

Shut up and get Beria on the line.

Yes Excellency I will try but I do not know the number...wait I found it here. It is ringing…still ringing… still..


Of of … course sir. Comrade Stalin to speak to Comrade Beria…Yes comrade he is standing right hhhere…please comrade (I beg you)…here Excellency.

Stalin snatches the phone from the stammering aide.

Beria clear the room I want to talk to you alone…I do not have all the patience I once had Lavrentiy… Contact the British. You will make arrangements to transfer all the British prisoners onto captured freighters and send them to Atlee and Churchill. I don’t care about the details Lavrushen'ka just complete the task…why are you still talking…I said now Beria…you really don’t want this conversation to continue. Make this very public. I want the world to see how well you have taken care of our guests and you have taken care of them haven't you Laventiy? For your sake I am glad to hear that.

Stalin hangs up and turns on the hapless secretary…

You were supposed to leave the room. His words are dripping with malice. Now get me Molotov…hurry before I make you a eunuch.


Molotov contact the British. We are sending all of their prisoners to them. They are doing us no good but eating our food. Tell Atlee that it is a gift… a token to show our sincerity for our former allies…you will know how to say it. We want them thinking about our proposal. We are using the carrot and the stick and will drive a wedge between the English and the Yankees. If it does not work all we’ve lost is a few more mouths to feed. Yes, yes Beria has assured me that they were well taken care of as have the American prisoners. No just the British for now.

Stalin hangs up the phone and walks slowly back to his desk. The aide can see he is deep in thought and tries to slink out of the room. A creaking board seals his fate. Stalin slowly turns and eyes his prey with all the humanity of a shark. The hapless man urinates in his pants. He has no future.