"Misha, do you want to go with me to attend the Olympic opening ceremony? China already sent over invitations in advance. I heard you received one too."
One day in early August, Wang Ye and his Godfather were chatting in that familiar office at the Kremlin.
Wang Ye smiled and shook his head. "It's enough if you go. I'd better stay behind. I have a lot on my plate these days, and according to the latest intelligence, there may be trouble somewhere soon. Moscow needs someone holding down the fort."
It sounded a little presumptuous, as though in Moscow, aside from his Godfather, there was only Wang Ye...
But his Godfather saw nothing wrong with it. Instead, he nodded in agreement. He also believed that if he went abroad, then if Moscow needed someone to take charge, Wang Ye was truly the only choice!
He would not trust anyone else...
It was not merely a matter of closeness. Wang Ye truly had the ability to keep things under control, and the heads of those important departments respected him as well.
Anyone else, even Medvedev or Gryzlov, did not carry Wang Ye's authority!
After hesitating for a moment, he asked tentatively, "Do you think... they really dare to make a move? I've received intelligence too, saying that they've begun mobilizing troops and are restless, but I don't think they would dare. If they really attack, they'll have to face our wrath!"
Wang Ye smiled faintly and said noncommittally, "Things like this are never clear-cut. Perhaps until the moment before they act, even they themselves may not be certain. But we're prepared. It would naturally be best if they do nothing. But if they really make a move, then the question is, Godfather—how will you respond?"
That was equivalent to kicking the