Chapter 92 — The Storm That Wasn't
With Andrei's arrival, history had veered off its original course.
In the previous timeline, the Vigilance—the same Type 1135 "Haiyan"-class warship—had indeed been the stage of a dramatic mutiny, orchestrated by none other than its deputy captain, Saberlin. But that had taken place during an overhaul in Riga, the capital of the Latvian Soviet Socialist Republic.
On the night of November 8, 1976, at 19:00, Saberlin had lured the ship's commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Portuline, down into the engine room under false pretenses and locked him in with the help of loyal sailors. He then rallied the crew, declared his intention to sail the Vigilance to Kronstadt, and proclaim it sovereign territory—free from the corruption and bureaucracy of the Soviet elite.
That night, Captain Vrsov had escaped by diving into the icy Daugava River and reaching the submarine B-49, from where he radioed Riga Base Command. Unfortunately, no one believed him. It wasn't until Saberlin took the Vigilance to sea that Soviet command realized something had gone terribly wrong.
By dawn, the Kremlin was awake. Brezhnev gave the infamous order: "Sink it." The Soviet 15th Air Army scrambled bombers and attack aircraft—Yak-28s, Tu-16s, Su-24s. In the chaos, they mistakenly bombed a civilian vessel and a patrol ship.
Eventually, Saberlin's uprising collapsed. Thirty loyal sailors freed the imprisoned captain. After a brief and violent struggle, Saberlin was shot and subdued. The warship was reassigned to the Pacific Fleet, reclassified as a mere frigate, its name quietly erased from honor rolls.
But now—thanks to Andrei's unexpected intervention—that history was no longer certain.
After the top leadership decided to relocate the Vigilance to the Pacific Fleet, Saberlin's plans unfolded not in Riga, but quietly on the open Baltic Sea. The ship's absence went unnoticed. Its daily radio silence was chalked up to equipment failure—after all, it wasn't a submarine and didn't face the same operational urgency.
Vrsov, determined to defect and report the mutiny, hadn't dared risk jumping overboard in open sea. Only when the Vigilance came within 100 kilometers of Leningrad—and the coast was close—did he make his move.
Panicked, Saberlin halted the voyage. He decided to deliver his revolutionary broadcast from a remote pier—hoping to shock the nation from an unexpected corner.
But fate had other plans.
Two visitors—one small and bouncing with curiosity, the other a Hero of the Soviet Union—arrived at the worst possible time.
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"Andrei Vladimirovich Tolstoy?"
Andrei had just stepped aboard the Vigilance and was being led to a room near the bridge when a naval officer, courteous and respectful, reviewed his documents.
"You're the one who brought down the American reconnaissance plane in the Far East?" the officer asked, voice full of admiration.
"That's me," Andrei said, still unsure why the crew was docked at this abandoned pier. He gave a polite nod toward the officer and continued, "This is my nephew Ivan. He just wanted to see a warship. I hope it's not a bad time. By the way… why are you anchored out here? Isn't Kronstadt the nearest naval base?"
"Our gas turbines are malfunctioning," the officer replied smoothly. "We've been forced to wait here for repairs."
Saberlin's lie flowed effortlessly. At this stage, any excuse would do. What mattered was gauging the Hero's leanings—did he sympathize with the current system, or would he be open to "correcting" its flaws? A nationally recognized figure speaking out could make all the difference. If he wasn't cooperative, Saberlin could detain him until the broadcast was done.
But what Saberlin hadn't realized—what no one on the ship had realized—was who the little boy actually was.
If he had known that Ivan was the grandson of Yuri Andropov himself, head of the KGB… Saberlin would never have let them set foot on the deck.
Before Saberlin could probe further, Andrei brightened.
"A gas turbine failure?" he said. "Then this must be a Type 1135, right? The Haiyan class? That makes sense—they're powered by the М-7 COGAG system, right? Two М-8К turbines and two М-62s. Fantastic acceleration. Perfect for aggressive anti-submarine maneuvers."
Andrei paused, realizing how much he sounded like a naval officer.
"Sorry, I'm just… interested in naval tech. The Air Force doesn't give us toys like this."
Saberlin blinked. This was not a typical Hero of the Soviet Union. He seemed far too informed.
"We're the Vigilance," Saberlin replied.
Andrei froze.
That name. The Vigilance. The same warship from the history books—the one that was the heart of a scandal that nearly tore the Baltic Fleet apart. The mutiny that required Brezhnev's direct orders to crush. The warship that, after disgrace, was renamed and downgraded.
And it was November 8, 1976.
The same date.
Andrei's pulse quickened. He smiled thinly.
"Ivan," he said gently, "we're going home. Auntie is probably finishing dinner."
Saberlin raised a brow. "Leaving so soon? You've only just arrived."
Andrei nodded firmly, placing a hand on Ivan's shoulder.
"Yes. It's getting dark. And Ivan's bedtime story can't be missed."
Inwardly, Andrei's thoughts raced. Saberlin. He remembered it all. This man had locked up his commanding officer and tried to use the ship for his own ideological crusade. Some claimed he wanted to defect to Sweden. Others said he planned to sail to Leningrad and incite an uprising.
Whatever the case, this ship was dangerous. And Ivan's presence here was a massive liability.
If anything happened to the boy—Andropov's grandson—it wouldn't just be Andrei's reputation on the line. It could spark purges, demotions, disappearances. Ekaterina's ties to Irina weren't enough to shield him from the fallout.
He had to get off this ship. Now.