The President held up his hand for silence and turned to look over the War Room below, the only sign of his anger the whiteness of his knuckles as his hands gripped the wooden balustrade.

Calmed, he turned. “The next time I hear about this pilot you will report his death. Whether in the air or in his bed, I don’t care which, or how. See to it.” He glared at his generals, not expecting a reply. “With regard to our infantry losses, I suppose that was foreseeable. These Latvians are no better than German peasants and never learn when they are beaten. Make sure it’s kept quiet and ensure the bodies are returned to their families in the usual way. That will keep the mothers of the soldiers off my back . . . And, if you want to keep your post,” he pointed at the Defense Minister, who blushed with embarrassment, “you’ll be sure of all your facts before you next open your mouth.”

Komarov knew exactly what the President was referring to. Just as during the Soviet fighting in Afghanistan, after the invasion of Ukraine, the bodies of soldiers killed in action had been returned to their families with no ceremony; in cheap plywood coffins dumped outside their apartments in the middle of the night to avoid any adverse publicity. The families were told to put up and shut up or face the consequences. Not for Russia the mawkish, morale-sapping practice of western countries: the Fallen returning with ceremony in flag-draped coffins and reported on by TV crews.

During this ill-tempered exchange Filatov had held back, but was now almost hopping from one foot to another, like a child desperate to interrupt a conversation. Finally, judging that the worst of the President’s temper was dissipated, he summoned up the courage and burst out, “Excuse me, Vladimir Vladimirovitch. Forgive me for interrupting, but I failed to give you a key detail about the damage done to the opposition.”

The President, who had turned about to walk to the War Room, stopped suddenly. “Tell me more, General,” he asked, his voice like ice.

“The other news just in is that two Su-25 Scorpions sank two NATO ships in Riga Harbor, tied up alongside,” Filatov announced, not sure whether to smile at the good news or keep his face grave, in case the President was not happy with this unexpected development. “The aircraft had orders to sink Latvian Navy ships, but initial battle-damage reports indicate that they were British and German.”