Operation “Stray Dog”. Chapter 5

“Power of Siberia” — Power of TikTok

11:50 EST (23:50 Beijing time). 2 hours 50 minutes before Zeynab’s call. Beijing. Zhongnanhai (Residence of PRC Leadership). Assembly Hall

The Assembly Hall smelled of expensive jasmine tea, lacquered wood, and a quiet, polite, yet deadly panic. A colossal digital map of the world spanned one entire wall. On it, China was vast, bright red, and pulsating; Taiwan was also red (though with light cross-hatching indicating “pending return”); and Russia was shaded in a pleasant beige color, referred to in secret party documents as “Zone of Prospective Resource Development” and colloquially as “Our Northern Warehouse.”

The Chairman (whose name was not spoken aloud, much like Voldemort’s, only with greater respect and a Party card) sat in a chair resembling a throne, watching the trajectory of the Korean missile. The red line on the map was behaving like a drunken snake.

“Comrade Li,” he addressed the intelligence chief without turning his head. “Tell me honestly, communist to communist. Is that our missile? Did we sell them the blueprints?”

“Not at all, Comrade Chairman!” Li bowed so low his nose nearly brushed the carpet. “We only sold them chips from Xiaomi vacuum cleaners and the fuselage of a decommissioned steam locomotive from the Cultural Revolution era. The technology itself… it is barbaric. Crude. Effective in its stupidity.”

“The Russians?”

“Likely. They love playing a double game. They sell us S-400s, and to the Koreans—blueprints for the Burevestnik, which doesn’t fly but terrifies the whole world with its theoretical possibility.”

“Why?”

“To create tension in the region and drive up oil prices. Or they simply mixed up the folders after a banquet celebrating the friendship of nations. Vodka is a terrible weapon, Comrade Chairman.”

The Chairman frowned. His face, usually as impenetrable as the Great Wall, twitched.

“Convey to Comrade Kim…” he paused, choosing words worthy of history. “Tell him that rice shipments are ceasing. And the elite Hennessy cognac, too. Let him drink his rocket fuel.”

At that moment, an aide with a tablet paled so drastically he began to blend in with his white shirt.

“Comrade Chairman! The missile has changed course! It passed over Mongolia and is now entering Russian airspace!”

“Let it,” the Chairman waved his hand. “Let the Russians deal with their own gifts. They have a large territory; there is plenty of room to crash.”

“But, sir… It is flying over Eastern Siberia. Directly over the ‘Power of Siberia’ gas pipeline. And over the taiga we leased for forty-nine years.”

Silence fell in the hall, broken only by the clink of a porcelain lid against a cup dropped by the Minister of Economy.

“Over Siberia?” The Chairman jumped up. “That is our gas! Our oil! Our timber! That is… that is a strike against the Chinese economy!”

“Precisely, sir. If it falls there, we lose trillions of yuan. And the lumber for IKEA. Where will we get ‘Ingolf’ chairs?”

“Call the Russians!” the Chairman screamed, losing his Confucian calm. “Urgent! Tell them to shoot it down!”

Intelligence Chief Li spread his hands guiltily.

“We tried, sir. But the Kremlin has an answering machine. They have declared operation ‘Carpet.’ They say there is a missile threat due to a Ukrainian drone attack on Moscow. All secure communications are cut so the enemy cannot pinpoint the bunker.”

“What the hell is ‘Carpet’?! Their Siberia is about to burn! Call on the reserve channel!”

“There is no reserve channel, sir. The red phone is silent. Satellites are jammed. Apparently, General Volkov did something in the north; contact with the Arctic is lost.”

“Then…” The Chairman thought for a second. His brain, accustomed to managing one and a half billion people, sought an unconventional solution. “Then use TikTok!”

“What?!” the generals dropped their notepads.

“TikTok!” repeated the Chairman. “It is the only thing they do not block, because their soldiers watch videos of dances and life hacks on how to open canned stew. Record an address! Urgent! Push it into the trends of the Russian segment! Hashtag #SaveOurForest! #ShootDownTheMissile! #RussiaChinaBrothers4Ever!”

“But, Comrade Chairman,” Li objected timidly. “If we use TikTok algorithms for special communications… The Americans will hear. They hold the controlling stake in the company now after that deal with Oracle! The servers are in Texas! The CIA will see!”

“Screw the CIA!” the Chairman barked. “Let them listen! We need our Siberian gas and timber more than we need secrecy! Besides, the Americans are busy with golf; the President has a tournament. Do it! And apply the cat filter! Russians love cats; it will increase reach and virality!”

Five minutes later, a strange video appeared in the feed of Lieutenant Sidorov in the air defense command bunker near Moscow (who was frankly bored while the brass were “in a meeting”).

A Chinese general in full dress uniform, but with digital cat ears and vibrating whiskers, furiously poked his finger at a map of Siberia to the tune of the viral track “My money don’t jiggle jiggle, it folds,” drew a missile in the air, and gestured the international sign for “Boom!” Below, a running ticker in broken Russian read: “BROTHER IVAN! SHOOT FLYING STICK! SAVE TREE! WILL GIVE MANY CLOTHES!”

Sidorov chuckled.

“Creative,” he thought. “Neural networks have gone completely bonkers.”

He liked the video. Wrote a comment: “LMAO author burns.” And swiped on. To watch a girl in a bikini fix the carburetor of a classic Mustang.

He didn’t bother waking the leadership. Not worth the trouble.

Chapter 6. Geopolitics with Pirozhki →
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