FRAGMENT XLVI — THE RUSSIAN LANGUAGE GAMBIT

At first, the world was confused.

“Invest in defence now,” Mark said sternly on stage, flanked by Defense Secretary Hegseth.
“Or start learning Russian later.”

Commentators blinked. Analysts whispered. But hadn’t Russia already lost? Its air force was scattered, its navy trapped in puddles, its economy an echo.

And yet, Mark said what he said. Deliberately. Loudly. With that glint — the one the intelligence community now officially refers to as Strategic Sadism™.

Because what the cameras didn’t catch was the real target: the Russians themselves. Watching. Always watching.

Within hours, panic swept through what remained of the FSB linguistics division. Telegram channels lit up. “Why would the West need Russian?” they asked. “Do they plan occupation?” “Are they preparing to take Moscow?” “Will they annex the Don?”

In reality, Mark’s comment had no strategic intent.

It was a psy-op joke.

A breadcrumb. A trap of thought. A false thread woven into the fraying minds of a collapsing regime.

One aide overheard Mark laughing later that evening:

“I want them to hope, briefly. That maybe they’ll still be needed...
and then realize they’ll be replaced.
By better Russian speakers.
With no accents.
With no mercy.”
Hegseth didn’t get the joke. But Leo Versteeg did.
And that night, he posted a meme titled:
“Duolingo: Moscow Expansion Pack (Beta Access — NATO Only).”

It went viral. In Kursk, a general wept.