Chapter 91 — A Medal and a Mutiny
In his past life, Andrei had never married. In this new world, not only was he married, but now found himself caring for a child—not even his own. And yet, he already understood the full challenge of parenting.
Ivan, stubborn as a mule, demanded everything on his terms. If he wanted food, he had to have it immediately, or else he'd wake in the middle of the night crying endlessly. Nothing could calm him—not stories, not comfort. Andrei had learned that keeping the boy satisfied during the day was the only way to preserve nighttime peace.
He had even begun to suspect that Irina, Ivan's mother, had sent the boy along simply to have a few quiet days at home.
Still, Ivan was generally well-behaved. He was just endlessly curious. Like now—his eyes fixed on the distant warship he had spotted from the windmill.
"Let's go. I'll show you, but I can't promise we can board," Andrei said.
"No need to worry about that," Ivan replied brightly, pulling something shiny from his coat pocket.
It was Andrei's own Gold Star medal.
"As long as we have your medal, we can go anywhere!" Ivan said with a grin.
Andrei nearly lost it. That medal wasn't just a decoration—it had been earned in blood, in battle, through fire and fury. And now this little gremlin was flashing it like a backstage pass.
"Ivan, come. Give me that medal," Andrei said, forcing calm into his voice. "I'll take you."
He glanced back. Ekaterina's cheeks were flushed from the cold. He couldn't ask her to walk any further.
"Ekaterina, go back and start preparing dinner for us," he said. "We'll be back in two hours, tops."
Besides, letting her bond with his mother over dinner was probably a good thing.
"Alright," she nodded. Then she turned to Ivan and added, "Be good for Uncle Andrei. If you're not, no bedtime story tonight."
Ivan's eyes widened. That threat always worked. He nodded reluctantly.
Andrei took his hand, and together they walked toward the shoreline.
The dock ahead was a rusted, abandoned structure—no ships usually moored there. The waters here were shallow and calm, part of the northeastern Gulf of Finland. During the Second World War, the defenders of besieged Leningrad had used this very spot for secret offloads under German bombardment.
A few dozen kilometers east lay Kotlin Island—home to the famed naval base at Kronstadt, guardian of the sea routes into Leningrad and base of the mighty Baltic Fleet.
Thankfully, Ivan hadn't seen that far. If he had, he'd be dragging Andrei there next.
They trudged down the frosty path to the pier. A man from the village followed at a distance, feigning disinterest. Another quiet KGB observer.
Meanwhile, aboard the moored warship—the Vigilance—Vice-Captain Saberlin was furious.
"Damn it, how did Vrsov escape?" he cursed.
Everything had gone smoothly—until now. Just hours away from his final destination, Saberlin had become complacent. He'd trusted Vrsov, who claimed to support the mutiny. But that had been a lie. The officer had vanished.
The lifeboats were all accounted for. Which meant Vrsov had jumped overboard—into frigid waters where death from hypothermia was all but guaranteed. Still, Saberlin wasn't willing to gamble.
Vrsov had been missing for hours. If he survived and reached land, it would only be a matter of time before Baltic Fleet Command was alerted. If that happened, they'd scramble naval aviation to intercept—and the Vigilance would never reach Leningrad.
No time to waste.
Saberlin ordered the ship to dock and finalize preparations. His speech would be broadcast soon—a revolutionary address meant to shake the Soviet Union to its core. The manifesto had been rewritten dozens of times. Even now, Saberlin was refining it at the microphone, ready to ignite his ideological firestorm.
Just then, a sailor entered the cabin.
"Captain! A Hero of the Soviet Union is here to visit the ship."
Saberlin blinked. A Hero? Out here?
Impossible. This was an abandoned dock near a remote village. The only smoke visible came from the distant chimney of a power station. And since when did power station engineers receive the Gold Star?
He was about to refuse—this was no time for guests. But then he paused. No one in the Soviet Union would dare impersonate a Hero of the Soviet Union. If caught, the KGB would execute them on the spot.
"Let them aboard," Saberlin said.
If the Hero supported the cause, excellent. If not, he could be detained. In either case, it would be better to handle it here than risk exposure elsewhere.
On the dock, a sailor called out, "Comrade Hero of the Soviet Union, you may come aboard!"
Andrei walked forward, Ivan bouncing at his side.
"We'll just take a quick tour and head out. If there are sensitive areas, just let us know—we won't intrude," Andrei said.
He had no idea that he had just stepped onto a mutinous vessel. A warship turned rogue.
It was easy to get aboard.
Getting off would be much harder.