Heroes

Xie Liaosha instantly recognized the imposing figure before him as a Soviet Communist Party leader. Under Yanaev's commanding gaze, the usually arrogant Xie felt a rare pang of fear. His mouth opened, but no words came. Yanaev cut the silence, addressing General Gromov beside him:"General Gromov, remember what I said—I want no scum or parasites in our army. You know what comes next."

Gromov, eager to prove his loyalty, nodded sharply. Approaching Seryosha, he said coldly, "Comrade Seryosha, you know the drill. You're dismissed from your post, effective immediately, and suspended pending further investigation. Not even your immediate superior can protect you this time."

Gromov's emphasis on "immediate superior" was a deliberate jab at Commander-in-Chief Chernavin, hinting at factional tensions. Yet Yanaev remained unreadable, quietly filing the moment away.

Noticing Xie Liaosha frozen in place, Yanaev's patience snapped:"Step aside, comrade. Don't block a hero's path—you're not qualified."

Obediently, Gromov signaled the guards. They surged forward, seizing Seryosha's arm and dragging him away. In a desperate voice, Seryosha grabbed Gromov's sleeve:"You can't do this! I've bled for this navy! I want to see Commander Chernavin!"

Gromov shrugged off the grasp disdainfully. The guards hauled Seryosha down the corridor, his anguished wails echoing chillingly in the stark hallway.

Gromov excused himself, leaving Yanaev alone with Remus in the dim confinement room. The worn captain, eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights, glanced up and quipped wryly:"Have I been too restless? Or am I just seeing the General Secretary's ghost?"

Yanaev sighed, extending a hand to help him up."You read correctly, Comrade Remus. I am General Secretary Yanaev, here to retrieve you."

Remus waved off the gesture, lifting his head to meet Yanaev's gaze with fierce resolve:"I want to ask only one thing—have I done wrong defending my motherland's interests?"

The defiant dignity Remus had held even under Xie Liaosha's pressure now cracked into humiliation and sorrow.

"No," Yanaev said quietly. "Those who defend the motherland are never wrong."

Seeing Remus—once a potential Soviet hero, now broken in chains—Yanaev felt an unexpected pang of sympathy.

"That's good, that's good," Remus said softly. "Can I return to my post? I still want to guard our seas."

"Of course," Yanaev promised. "You will be reinstated and honored as a hero. Our nation's greatness doesn't come from its massive war machine but from unsung fighters like you. As long as you stand, our ideals remain alive."

Remus, silent for a long moment, finally smiled and reached out, grasping Yanaev's hand as he rose.

Watching Remus leave, Yanaev exhaled deeply. He glanced around the bleak cell and muttered,"This place suits only enemies of the Soviet Union. Heroes like you deserve applause, not obscurity."

Two hours later, a radiant Remus stood at the Severomorsk headquarters' award ceremony. On the podium, Yanaev pinned the Order of Alexander Nevsky on him—the highest commendation for his decisive actions in the Arctic Ocean crisis, where his command had severely damaged American vessels.

The applause was thunderous. It was the first major medal awarded to the Northern Fleet in a decade. Even Remus, usually composed, trembled with emotion as he accepted the honor.

No one would have guessed that the prisoner from just hours ago was now a celebrated Soviet hero.

"General Secretary Yanaev, I am deeply grateful," Remus stammered in his speech. "But I did nothing wrong. Every captain has a duty to strike any submarine invading our waters. Given the chance, I would act the same—no matter the cost, even if it meant confinement or early retirement. I regret nothing."

Yanaev was the first to rise and applaud. The crowd quickly followed, their cheers filling the hall.

When the applause died, Yanaev took the podium. His speech was measured but sincere—far beyond the usual hollow rhetoric:"Captain Remus handled the Arctic crisis with the courage our nation demands. His actions sent a clear message to the Americans—this is our sea, our territory is sacred and inviolable. Today, I announce a new code name for the K-246 Sierra-class submarine: Mayflower Hunter."

As soon as Yanayev uttered the new code name, an uproar erupted throughout the hall. No one had expected the General Secretary to choose such a provocative title. But Yanayev, with a quiet confidence, seemed to anticipate this reaction. Since The Hunt for Red October had premiered in the United States two years ago, he saw this crisis as an opportunity—to reclaim pride and send a clear message.

His voice softened, filled with a calm yet commanding eloquence:"Comrades, I have heard it said before: the greatness of a country does not rest on harsh words or resolute postures, but on whether it has heroes. A nation without heroes is a sorrowful nation; a nation that forgets its heroes is a shameful one. Do you know the true cost of a country's dignity? It is paid in the sacrifices of countless souls like Comrade Remus.

Why did the Soviet Union rise from the ashes of war to become a formidable power—feared and hated by the West? Because our soldiers, the mighty Red Army, never abandoned the motherland at its hour of greatest need."

Yanayev's own eyes glistened with emotion as he spoke, his gaze sweeping over the silent assembly. Then, with rising intensity, he continued:"When you shout slogans—'Everything for the Soviet Union,' 'For the Revolution,' 'For our Great Victory,' 'For the dignity of the motherland'—prove those words through deeds, like Comrade Remus. Not with empty chants or cowardly lip service."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle, before striking harder:"Some comrades' minds have become clouded and wayward. They enjoy the welfare earned by the people and the toil of their ancestors but shirk their duty to serve. Worse yet, they arrogantly wield so-called free thought to suppress those who truly fight for the motherland. Let me offer a clear warning: the Soviet people will never forgive those who betray them. Betrayal will be met with the harshest sanctions."

Though subtle, his words rang out as a direct challenge to Chernavin and other liberal officers within the navy—traitors would face unforgiving retribution.

"Remember this well, comrades: the motherland chooses those who are loyal, and she will remember those who dedicate themselves to her."

As Yanayev's last impassioned words echoed through the hall, the room burst into thunderous applause. Excited, angry, resentful, and defiant eyes all locked onto Yanayev, held captive by his unyielding presence long after the clapping ceased.