The Let's Play Archive

KGB aka Conspiracy

by red mammoth, Xander77

Part 72: FINALE

Update 33

A run-down part of town. The kind of place that makes you look over your shoulder quite often. A run-down door in a run-down neighborhood.

A run-down screw on a run-down knob on a run-down door........

Greenberg's holding his shoulder and looks to be in some pain.

: Well, if it ain't ace KGB captain Maxim Rukov!

(This is verbatim the conversation you might have with the hotel room phone. The weirdest bug.)

: If he wakes up, it won't be in this world! I'm not planning to hang around here much longer with this busted arm. I'm out of action for a day or two. My gun made a lot of noise, so I'll give the militia 10 minutes maximum to get there (sic). If you have questions, make it fast!

: What happened here?

: I broke in to check this hole out. Then Yakuchev here came in very sneakily and jumped me. I was lucky to be able to get my gun out and shoot the bastard!

: What brought you here?

: Did you find anything before this character arrived?

: Nothing special. I'm just trying to learn what I can about Paymat.

: When your country collapses into anarchy, who knows how many blackshirts will crawl out of the woodwork! You're in for some big problems, Rukov. I'm interested in the the international contacts these crazies might have. The world's going to be a dangerous place, believe me.

: What are you going to do next?

: I was counting on Yakuchev for a lead.

: Tough. Looks like you've been struck out.

: He might also have been responsible for the death of my parents - and you denied me my vengeance!

: That's rough, buddy.

: Do the Rogov institute or Protopopov mean anything to you?

: Not a thing.

: Tsibulenko?

: Does "the martyr's fate" ring any bells?

: Not for me.

: "Beyond the illusion there is falsehood". Head that one before?

: Should I have? Sounds like the kind of poetry I wrote when I was a moody kid.

: Do you know of a place called "The Motherland"?

: "Memory's bible" or "The book of death". Familiar?

: What is this garbage, Rukov? Memory's Bible?
Oh my god, Memory's bible! Pamyat means "memory", right? And what book would ultra-nationalist fascist anti-semitics consider their bible?

With some difficulty Greenberg pulls a fat book from beneath his jacket, and hands it to you. Its title is "Mein Kampf".

: Adolf Hitler's deranged Nazi philosophy! This book has been translated into Russian. It's full of notes pointing out how Hitler's solutions could be applied to Russia today! Whoever told you that stuff about "Memory's bible" was pointing at Pamyat!

Greenberg frowns... then frowns some more... then...

: I got it! That "Motherland" thing? This fell out of Mein Kampf when I opened it!

The American hands you a bookmark. It carries an advertisement to an art-gallery called "The Motherland" on Great Patriotic War street.

: Okay Rukov, I'm out of here. Maybe I'll see you around. I'm not inviting you to come with me because I have to see someone you're not supposed to know about.

We examine the apartment:

A depressing place to live. Not very clean. The fridge is empty, the bed is unmade. Yakuchev is dead, permanently. You search him, but you find nothing of interest.

Judging from Galushkin's apparent age, the photograph was taken some 10 years ago.

Right. Keep in mind the other half of a photograph we found some time ago. Time to head to-

Yeah. There.

A pleasant street. You can see some paintings through the window.

: Yes, his work is in the unsullied tradition of our cultural heritage, which survived throughout the godless years of communism!

: Please do. I'll be closing the gallery in a few minutes.

As the western client moves into another part of the gallery, the manageress turns to you.

: I was told you can help me.

: Help you with what?

: I'm looking for Yakuchev.

: Who are you? What do you want with Yakuchev?

: I'm KGB. Here's my I.D.

: I see. Well, I can't help you, captain. I don't believe I even know this Yakuchev. Is he an artist?

: I think you do know him. Where's Protopopov?

Her face an inexpressive mask, the manageress goes back to her desk.

Mmm, heretical. Maks can't stand to look at these pictures any more.

: You admire our religious art?

She turns away and, with a brief glance at her watch, sets about admiring the rest of the artwork as fast as she can.

: What about-

A minute later...

The western client calls from the back of the gallery...

The manageress, smiling bravely, goes off to answer the question.

Maks takes the opportunity to hide in the closet.

Maks slips out, turns off the lights, and explores rest of the gallery.

Meanwhile, the letter opener is nice and lengthy. All I can say about this puzzle is that you only have so many objects to interact with (unless you get fixated on the paintings).

As the letter opener plunges into the martyr's body, you hear a click from the nearby painting, which slides noiselessly to one side.

As long as we're here, did anyone take note of the date the game takes place on? I wonder if it's relevant?

No reaction.

Two familiar figures enter the cell. Savinkov is pointing a pistol at you.

: I might have guessed we'd find you here, Rukov. Your tendency to disobey orders has led you into deep trouble this time. The seated comrade is a certain Protopopov. Tomorrow he will appear on television.

: Perhaps we could be brief, comrade?

: Very well. As you may have gathered, Rukov, the video cassettes were no more than a cover, bait for the corrupt Kusnetsov. Your role was to distract him, and provide enough proof for us to have him executed. Protopopov was the real object of our little exercise. Comrade Volvov and I are both frankly surprised by your abilities. Comrade Galushkin assured us you would be easily controlled. He was obviously mistaken.

: Rukov has been lucky, that's all. Have you finished, comrade?

: After killing you, I shall find him and discover exactly who he is working for. By the way, I must tell you that switching the contents of the briefcases was a stupid joke.

Savinkov's gun points unerringly at your face.

: Quite tasteless, rea-

Savinkov's gun drops to the floor, followed by its dead owner. Volvov's smoking gun now points at you!

: I could of course have eliminated Cut-throat before Savinkov interrogated him, but if I'd been too late, then our dead comrade here would have discovered I was Cut-throat's controller! Listen carefully, Rukov. You have done well. Your activities have managed to panic Savinkov into coming to me. I infiltrated Savinkov and Galushkin's organization some time ago, and I thought I'd succeeded in dissuading them from carrying out this New Birth plan with Protopopov. Clearly, their masters ordered them to go ahead without me.

: When Galushkin learned that Yakuchev had kidnapped Protopopov, he put a bullet through his own head. He was probably convinced his plan was about to backfire. Savinkov turned to me. The question is, what shall we do next?

: Protopopov must be questioned, comrade major.

: Normally I'd agree with you. But think about the situation.

: Poor Protopopov represents an enormous menace to the country. Our duty is unfortunately to kill him. Luckily, he is unaware anything that's happening.

: Why don't you shoot him?

: Because I need to know you have the guts for dirty work. Do your job!

: Protopopov won't even know what's happening. Duty is sometimes unpleasant, Rukov, but it is your duty to obey!

Yes, their entrance is just that sudden.

: Put down that gun, major. We don't want any accidents.

: Uncle Vanya! I need an explanation.

: I shall explain all this fully a little later. Comrade Volvov has been working for me for some time. He infiltrated the gang of hardliners. Unfortunately, his position didn't allow for much fieldwork, so I arranged for your transfer to Department P. You have done well! Your father would be proud of you.

: You should not have exposed yourself, comrade. Now your identity will be known. My own position is compromised.

: So I began to feel concern for my nephew's life...

: So much the better. I'd have been obliged to eliminate you anyway. I was forced to kill Galushkin. He was an incompetent bumbler, and he was in my way. I tried to talk him out of the Protopopov idea, but he went ahead with it anyway. Then Yakuchev of all people kidnapped Protopopov, and Galushkin naturally fell to pieces.

: And now you intend to kill us all.

: You were a fool to come here unarmed!

: I suggest we come to a reasonable agreement, since you cannot hope to escape.

: This is an old trick, comrade. We both know there are no armed men outside. There can be no agreement. You must all die, along with Protopopv. He has become useless, and a liability to my friends.

: You're a fool, old man. The forces I represent cannot be stopped.

: We shall see if you and your friends can wrest power from the forces of progress!

: I'm afraid you won't be alive to see anything, you cripple!

Volvov aims casually at Vanya's head...

Maks quickly scoops up Savinkov's pistol.

Volvov recovers his own gun...

: Too late! Our communist heroes have already arrested the president... Tomorrow they'll announce his resignation... for health reasons. Gorbachev's finished... Aah...

As Volvov dies, Protopopov suddenly begins to speak.

: Comrades! It is with a heavy heart that I speak to you.

: I can no longer assume the functions of my office, and I must resign.

: Only through communism can we hope to survive!

: expect full cooperation and understanding from all citizens. The time has come to root out antisocial elements and enemies of the state! Death to imperialist warmongers!

And that's the end of that. Join us next time, for a final update that will hopefully clarify any remaining questions.