Lost Count

Ranking

The Red Line was seen as something unchanging and concentrated in its efforts to expand. The need to spread Communism was a part of its being. Yet now, everything was changing and being brought down around everyone's ears. Leonid had gotten rid of all of the members of the Politburo, firing them all and demanding a re-election in the hands of the people. No one refused, the thought was too tempting.

Leonid had already swayed the hearts of many, filled their heads with his hopes for change and true equality.

The stations of the Line were to choose one member as a representative. Each representative would speak for the station and its needs whenever there was a council meeting. Leonid stayed on a while longer as the grand leader, unwilling to turn over his power to those that weren't trustworthy. Once each member of the new Politburo had been chosen, he met with each one personally and either approved or disapproved of the choice.

Most were approved.

Once the new Politburo was elected, Leonid gracefully and politely handed his power to the hands of the people and the council. While the boy wasn't the sole leader of the Party anymore, he still had a good amount of say as to what would be happening. He was kept on as an ambassador and advisor of sorts, as his travels gave him experience with those at other stations. He would be a good representative of the new Red Line. Even Pavel was starting to believe Leonid had some aspect of an idea, and a possibility to succeed. He had made it this far; it was much more than Pavel had ever expected from the young boy.

He might start to actually respect him if Leonid kept at it.

The station of Revolution Square became a hub, more bustling and busy than ever before. People were able to travel there safely, something that was rare and not often seen before now.

That was where Pavel was currently at. He had been called in by his superiors to meet with Leonid once again. They didn't meet often, but whenever they did Pavel was sent on a personal mission by the young man. Ever since he had sworn himself to the then-aspiring leader, he found himself mainly doing reconnaissance on the surface or short meetings with the Hanseatic League. No battles with the Nazis, not even confrontations on the surface. He hadn't fired his gun in a long time; it had been even longer since he'd been in a fight.

The last fight he'd been in was the one at Red Square. Where Artyom had defeated, then spared him.

Artyom...

Artyom just wouldn't leave Pavel's mind. Thoughts of the other man tended to pop up at the most inopportune moments; there could be one thing to set them off. Someone with a slightly similar build, the scratch of a pencil on paper, even the gentle scrape of boots sometimes sent memories racing through Pavel's head. Memories of his old friend as they traveled together.

Artyom's eyes as they shone with silent laughter, the little tilt of his shoulder when he was unsure. The single-minded drive he had when a goal was visible. His hair, messy and dark; it would always stick up at odd angles when he removed his helmet or gas mask. A quirk of the mouth whenever Pavel told a stupid joke. Every feature, every little detail about Artyom was fresh in his mind, even though it had been months since he last saw the other man. He'd probably never even see him again.

Pavel gritted his teeth as he walked and clenched his fists by his sides. None of that mattered anymore. Artyom was gone. Either dead or on the complete other side of the Metro, never to be seen again by Pavel. There was nothing that could be done now. He needed to be focused on the meeting with Leonid, not running off into dreamland! The door was close now, and he hurried over to it in order to distract himself. Pavel rapped his knuckles against the door with three sharp knocks.