---
In hindsight, many believed that only a statesman like Andropov—one with courage, competence, and a deep understanding of ordinary people—could have saved the Soviet Union. Though reformers like Gorbachev were hailed by some as visionaries, history proved otherwise. Their policies ultimately led to the disintegration of the USSR.
Unfortunately, history gave Andropov too little time. By the time he rose to leadership, his health was already deteriorating. His term as General Secretary was marked by illness, and he was rarely able to work as needed.
But in 1976, that was still in the future. For now, Andropov was in good health. The real problem was that Brezhnev still sat at the top. Brezhnev, while stable, was widely considered mediocre. He had been chosen precisely because he posed no threat to others—no Stalin-like figure. And once in power, Brezhnev cemented his rule with policies that preserved the privileges of the ruling elite. His proposal of lifelong appointments for officials had quietly entrenched corruption.
The seeds of decline were sown during Brezhnev's time. The Soviet Union would not collapse until the 1990s, but the rot had begun decades earlier.
"Andre, what are you thinking about?" asked a fellow honoree as they exited the Kremlin.
Andrei shook his head quickly. "Nothing. Just that after receiving this title, I need to return to my post and keep doing my duty for the country."
His steps felt heavier than before. He recalled the time on the train, when men from the KGB discreetly watched over him. Back then, he thought it was because he was now a national hero. But now, he realized the protection wasn't for him—it was for Ekaterina.
She wasn't just anyone. Though not Andropov's biological daughter, she was like family. She was the godmother of Andropov's grandson, Ivan, and the closest friend of his daughter, Irina. That kind of connection was both personal and powerful.
What Andrei didn't yet know was that Ekaterina's true background went deeper still—something carefully concealed.
He'd already been with her before they married. The fact that Andropov, the head of the KGB, hadn't intervened meant he must have known—and allowed it. That dinner at Irina's house now felt like walking into the lion's den. Andrei even remembered openly criticizing Soviet bureaucracy that night, unaware he was saying it in front of one of the most powerful men in the country. In hindsight, he'd been braver—or more reckless—than he realized.
Meanwhile, Andropov, walking through the halls of the Kremlin, had his own thoughts. The country might have looked stable on the surface, but discontent simmered beneath. He had seen it firsthand during the Hungarian crisis in 1956. It was the people who ultimately decided a nation's fate.
Still, those matters were bigger than even his current role as KGB Chairman could fix. That morning, he'd left his residence to report to the KGB headquarters due to worrying developments in the East.
When he entered the office, he found Brezhnev in his chair, eyes closed in a moment of rest.
"Comrade General Secretary," Andropov began, "there's been increased activity in our eastern skies."
"Yuri, the Americans again?" Brezhnev asked wearily.
Andropov nodded. "The Blackbird reconnaissance aircraft have been launching daily missions from Okinawa. They're probing our Far East defenses. We believe the Americans are planning something."
The provocations had escalated. At altitudes above 30,000 meters, the SR-71s were untouchable by Soviet air defenses. The tension wasn't new. It had all begun with Andrei's interception of the EP-3. That had rattled the Americans. When they tried to orchestrate a defection through Belenko, Andrei shot him down. Then, when they attempted to salvage the MiG-25 wreck, Andrei once again disrupted their plans.
Both sides had come dangerously close to open conflict. If not for restraint on both ends, war might have already erupted.
Andrei's contributions had been critical. That was why Andropov had approved of him marrying Karina. More importantly, after speaking with him personally, Andropov had seen in Andrei not just courage, but rare clarity. He wanted to bring Andrei closer, perhaps even under his command. But doing so would be politically sensitive. It might give critics ammunition to accuse him of favoritism.
Still, in Andropov's eyes, Andrei was already part of the family—and a man worth investing in.
"What about our air defenses?" Brezhnev asked suddenly.
"They've tried," Andropov replied. "But the Blackbirds are too fast. So far, none have been shot down."
"Unacceptable." Brezhnev slapped the table. "Order the Far East Military Region to bring one down—no matter what it takes. Whatever games the Americans are playing, end them."
———
That night, back in his residence, Andrei confronted Ekaterina.
"You really kept me in the dark," he said, trying to mask the frustration in his voice.
"Are you angry?" she asked quietly. "I didn't mean to deceive you. I just... I was afraid. I thought if you knew, you might feel pressured, or worse, pull away. Andre, I didn't want to lose you."
Her eyes were filled with emotion, soft and vulnerable.
"No, I'm not angry," Andrei sighed. "Just… surprised. Today, at the Kremlin, I saw Irina's father—little Ivan's grandfather. And now I realize… he's the Chairman of the KGB. That moment hit me hard. Everything just went blank."
He looked away, unsure what to feel. The weight of responsibility had suddenly grown tenfold.
Ekaterina walked up to him and gently touched his arm. "You've done nothing wrong," she said softly. "No one can control where they come from—or who they fall in love with."
Andrei looked into her eyes, seeing the quiet strength behind them. He nodded. "I just hope I'm ready for everything that comes with it."
Outside, Moscow's skyline stretched under a pale moon, silent witness to the quiet storm building in the East.
---