Tide Of Fortune (Kirov Series Book 20) Read online

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “The kind I think you instigated once, Fedorov. Don’t think I wasn’t aware of your little Special Operation. No doubt you set Troyak loose with his Marines, and it was quite obvious what your intention was.”

  “I won’t argue the matter,” said Fedorov. “Yes, it was my intention to prevent you, or anyone else, from ever using that back stairway again. I wish I had never stopped there that night, because I’m responsible for this entire mess—everything—Sergei Kirov, Orenburg, all of it.”

  Even as he said that he recalled the long conversation he had with Director Kamenski and Admiral Volsky. The Director would not see the blame laid at Fedorov’s feet, and he said as much:

  “Remember,” Kamenski had told him. “It was Orlov who wrote that journal note that you discovered. Without that you would have never launched your mission to rescue him.”

  “I suppose Orlov would have had good reason to jump ship,” Admiral Volsky had put in. For that was the reason Fedorov had hatched his plan in the first place—to find Orlov. Yet Kamenski pushed the matter ever further back, to Karpov himself, the man before him here again.

  “He might have,” said Kamenski. “But not unless this Karpov here had hatched his little plot to take the ship. So you see, Fedorov, you want all the blame to begin with you, but nothing you did would have ever occurred if not for Karpov’s little rebellion, or Orlov’s strange letter. He is more than a little fish, I think. Karpov is a free radical, a wildcard, an unaccountable force in all of this history we’ve been writing and re-writing. Everything that has happened, except perhaps that first explosion on the Orel, can be laid at Karpov’s feet, so do not be greedy in taking all this on yourself, Fedorov. You were just reacting to events he had already set in motion.”

  “But if I had not spoken to Mironov—to Sergei Kirov—then Stalin might have lived and the nation would not be fragmented.”

  “Don’t think you killed Joseph Stalin now,” Kamenski had chided. “Sergei Kirov has already confessed to that crime, or so I was told. So you see, Fedorov, Kirov is not a puppet. Your whisper in his ear decided nothing. He used his own free will to do what he did. He made choices too, another free radical in the stew.”

  “But if I had not warned him as I did, he might have died as in our history.”

  “If, maybe, perhaps.” Kamenski held up his hands. “Nothing is certain, Fedorov. Things happen, and all this history we now find ourselves reading about in those books and newspapers is the result of millions of tiny choices and actions taken by people all over the world. Yes, we single out a few and claim they are the ones that matter, but I have not found that to be the case. We want certainty. We make big plans and hope things will all turn out well, but life seldom cooperates. Just when you think you have it all tied off and ready to slip into a drawer, the story continues. It resists resolution. It evolves to something new.”

  “But I must be responsible for the things I caused.”

  “Did you cause them? I wonder. This is where you make your mistake in thinking about all of this. The dots seem to be connected. You want to move from point A to point B and feel that one thing caused another, but it does not work like that. It’s human nature, I suppose. We want everything tidy, with a nice beginning, middle and end. Believe me, I was in the same distress you were in when I first found my history books were telling me lies. Things change, Mister Fedorov. Things begin from unseen causes. They spin off in unexpected directions. They end up places no one ever thinks they could go. Look at this ship and crew for the truth of that. You see, there are no happy endings in stories like this. Things just continue. They go on and on, just like this little adventure you have all found yourselves in these many months. This isn’t just your story, it’s everyone’s story, yours, mine, the whole world’s. Yes, you have your part to play, but there are other actors on the stage, and they speak for themselves.”

  And here was a man with a leading role to be sure, thought Fedorov. Yes, Kamenski had been correct. Karpov was a Prime Mover on all these events. He corrupted Orlov, caused his alienation, which sent him off on that helicopter… One dot seemed to lead to another, but he could never be certain the line of causality was that secure.

  “Why, Fedorov? What were you thinking when you hatched that little plot?”

  “That should be obvious,” said Fedorov. “Ilanskiy is dangerous—you and I both know that.” Kamenski’s warning was still in his mind…

  “What would a man like Karpov, or Volkov do with the power that stairway represents?” Kamenski had been thinking out loud. “Would they go forward to escape this mad world? Yet what if they had grown all too comfortable running things here, then what? Would they go up those stairs and bring things back… Weapons? Technology? Or perhaps they might simply have a look at how things might turn out?”

  “Or worse,” Fedorov had said. “What if someone goes down those stairs, returning to 1908 to start this all over again? That stairway represents a very grave risk. It must not be discovered or ever used again by either of these men.”

  “You wanted to close that breach in time,” said Karpov. “Don’t you realize the power that now represents?”

  “Of course I do,” said Fedorov. “But, if you want the truth, I also thought I could get Volkov.”

  “Volkov? You wanted to get that little rat by the tail? Tell me.”

  “I thought we could get to him the moment he first appeared in the past, and then end this whole nightmare concerning Orenburg. It is clear what happened. He went looking for me on the Trans-Siberian Rail, only that was in 2021. I was on that rail, making my way west to find Orlov, but I was doing so in 1942. And yet… call it fate, or simply random chance, Volkov came to that very same railway inn I found at Ilanskiy. I suppose the place is too small for a man to visit and not eventually find that stairway. That is how we think Volkov got back to 1908.”

  “Correct,” said Karpov. “He told me as much when I met with him over that nasty business at Omsk. So you thought Troyak would collar him for you?”

  “That was in the plan,” said Fedorov. “But I lost my nerve, or rather thought twice about it all, and it may be a good thing that I did so.”

  “What do you mean?” Karpov was reaching into his jacket pocket for a cigarette, then waited, realizing they were in a very small room here.

  “I mean Paradox, and that is an experience we’ve both been through. I was waiting for word on that mission, unable to sleep, then I realized that if Troyak did get Volkov, and bring him back up those stairs, this entire world could change in that same instant. I mean… everything. What would happen to it all—the troops facing off along the Volga, all the history from 1908 until now that Volkov had a hand in? It could be catastrophic. Beyond that, there would be Troyak, probably not even knowing why he was there, because there would have been no reason for me to ever send him. Understand?”

  Karpov smiled. “Completely. Yes… I had the same thought. In fact. I’ve been on that stairway, Fedorov. The first time I went to Ilanskiy I took a little stroll, and you would not want to know what I saw. Remember our nice private war in 2021? It must have been well underway. I got to the top of those stairs and saw a mushroom cloud over Kansk, right were the Naval Arsenal should be. It scared the hell out of me, and I was back down those stairs as quick as my legs could move me. Yes, I thought I could get Volkov the very same way. I even threatened the man with exactly that outcome, which is probably why he’s launched yet another attack on Ilanskiy. No question about it, the place is perilous, but all power is dangerous, and this is absolute power, Fedorov, absolute.”

  “I thought I could have Troyak drag Volkov from 1908 to 1942, but then I realized that would be impossible. Volkov is already here.”

  “That he is,” said Karpov. “He might have been there, in 1908, just as you suspected, but then again, we both know he is here, right in the middle of WWII. And guess what, he is also back home, in 2021. I sent Tyrenkov up those stairs for
another reconnaissance. Strangely, he did not see what I saw there. In fact, he reached a point in time just as Volkov was arriving at Ilanskiy in his little search operation. I realized I could just send men up there and gun the man down…. Until the same thought you just related struck me like a brick. Suppose I do that. Then what happens here?”

  “Paradox,” said Fedorov. “It’s the absolute peril in all of this. It started eating the ship and crew, Karpov. Men went missing, torn in half, their memories lost, as if none of this ever happened. It was terrifying. Who knows what might have happened if I let Troyak go down there after Volkov. So I decided to just blow the damn stairway to hell and leave it be. That’s what Volsky wanted to do. He said sometimes you just have to close a door and walk away. So that was the order.”

  “Yes,” said Karpov. “I thought Volkov tried to demolish my precious little railway inn, until I went over the evidence. Then I realized it was you. Volsky would have never conceived such an operation. You’ve been my nemesis all along, Fedorov.”

  “And you mine. The only problem in that is that the whole damn world is between us, and we had better watch what we do.”

  “Agreed,” said Karpov. “Frankly, I’m not sure what I could accomplish if I ever did decide to use that stairway again, or tried to send a man like Tyrenkov there in my place. You didn’t think Troyak could fetch Volkov to a place he already existed? Well, that was the same dilemma I faced when the ship was fated to arrive here again. As you can see, Time has a few things under her skirts we may not have seen. Here I stand, and yet, at this very same moment, my other self exists here as well, right there at Ilanskiy. This time it’s Volkov coming for that stairway. He knows what it means for him if I cast fate to the wind and go after him. By God… I hope my younger self prevails tonight. Now I’m standing in your shoes. You worried what I might do with the power that place represents, and justifiably so, because you’ve seen me wield absolute power when necessary. In like manner, I stand here petrified to think what Volkov would do if he and his men get to that inn.”

  “We should hear something soon,” said Fedorov. “This may sound strange, but have faith in yourself.”

  Karpov smiled. “I’ll beat that bastard,” he said defiantly. “My Brother will stop him at Ilanskiy, and then I’ll get busy with the rest of the job, as soon as I settle affairs with the Japanese. “I’ll see him burn if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “At least we understand one another,” said Fedorov.

  “We do,” said Karpov, “because we share the same fear, at least in one respect. But there is still a difference between us. You thought at first that you could undo all Volkov’s mischief, reset the clock as it were. Behind that was your wish to preserve the old history, but to do that you had to use that absolute power to smash and obliterate everything you see around us now—this entire world as it is presently ordered. You couldn’t do that, and so your fall back was to try and stop anyone else from ever trying to do so as well.”

  “Yes, and then lo and behold, someone rebuilds that stairway!”

  “Someone does,” Karpov smiled. “And now Volkov is desperate to close that door. But my fear is just a little different. You see, I’ve worked very hard to get where I am now. I’ve fought my battles and my demons both, and I daresay I’ve even defied time itself to be standing here now. I could have ordered Tyrenkov to finish Volkov off, but then I realized I would be undoing everything I’ve built here. It wasn’t the world I was afraid of losing, it was my world. That may sound self-centered, but there it is. Everything would change, and I was afraid that my place in that world would also change—who can say how? Somehow the thought of watching a great wave roll over my sand castle here was not as gratifying as all the time and effort I put into building it. You see? I wasn’t afraid of losing the world we’re standing in now—I was afraid of losing control over it. That’s my bailiwick and bane all rolled into one.”

  Fedorov did not quite know how to take that. On the one hand he might have expected Karpov to think that way, on the other, it did little to assuage the fear in his own chest. Just how far would Karpov go to preserve this world—to preserve his desire to control it? And how far would he take that desire now that he was here aboard Kirov again, aboard the most powerful ship in the world? First he wanted to take Volsky’s place, and now he is his own self appointed Admiral, and head of the Free Siberian State. How far would it go?

  “Karpov,” he said quietly. “That stairway is dangerous. It should be destroyed. Don’t you see that?”

  “It is not any more dangerous than a high cliff, Fedorov. It’s just a place like that, where you have to watch your step. Ilanskiy is not dangerous….. But I am. Volkov isn’t trying to destroy that railway inn tonight. He’s trying to destroy me, so he can preserve his little world, and all the control he thinks he has over it. You see, we are somewhat the same, but with only one difference.”

  “What is that?” asked Fedorov.

  “I’m going to win, and he’s going to lose. That’s no idle boast. Because it isn’t about Fate and Time any longer, nor does the will of God have anything to do with it. My will decides the matter now, and that is the way it will be.”

  Fedorov did not know quite what to make of that. “And after you’ve won?” he said.

  Karpov said nothing more, but Fedorov thought he saw something in his eyes that he did not quite expect. It wasn’t the gleam of satisfaction, or the pride of triumph. It was sadness, a quiet lonesome feeling that seemed to fall over the man like a shroud draped on his rounded shoulders.

  Chapter 20

  So Kirov turned away, leaving Akagi to limp on to Truk. As for Nagumo, his sword had been shattered, and now he would return home with only three operational fleet carriers from the six he was entrusted. It was only then, in a meeting with Yamamoto at Tokyo, that he learned of the demands being made by the Siberians.

  “You mean to say we were attacked by a Siberian warship? This is outrageous!”

  “You heard the rumors last year when I did,” said Yamamoto, “and I trust you have also read the intelligence reports. We believe this is the same ship that has confounded the Germans in the Atlantic—the one that also sank their aircraft carrier. It has a rocket weapon of great range and accuracy.”

  “I have seen it with my own eyes,” said Nagumo, “but I would not have believed it possible had that not been the case. Reading reports and listening to rumors is one thing, watching that weapon strike our ships quite another. I can understand why the lower ranks now whisper of Raiju and Mizuchi. The weapon is deadly, and terribly accurate. It must be piloted to strike us with such unfailing accuracy, and its speed was beyond belief. The gunners could not even take aim before it danced away, with maneuvers that would be impossible for any plane we have. Akagi was lucky that none of her planes were armed and fueled when the first attack came in. Hiryu was not so fortunate. It was just beginning launch operations.”

  “And yet you brought the rest of your forces home safely.”

  “Only by turning and running south,” said Nagumo with the shame obvious in his voice. “Masuda Shogo and Fuchida wanted me to strike, and I did so, even with daylight fading. Something tells me that it was fortunate our planes did not find the enemy that day. I have also read the reports concerning the smaller rocket weapons used against aircraft. We lost three planes in that manner during our initial search, and then more from the strike wave. The only caveat we have is that when the enemy uses these weapons, the contrails in the sky lead us directly to the firing ship. In this case, darkness frustrated our search effort, and I ordered Fuchida to bring the planes home. Now the men speak of ghosts and demons. We were humbled by a ship we could not even sight, let alone attack. Yet somehow, they knew exactly where we were—exactly. It was a most difficult time. When I turned south, and at high speed, no man on the bridge said anything, but I could feel what they all felt. We were running.”

  “Every good commander must know how and when to make a skillful
retreat,” said Yamamoto, trying to give his fighting Admiral back some face. “I would have done the same in your situation, in fact, had the matter been before me, I would have ordered it. We may have lost the Flying Dragon, but you brought home three fleet carriers in good shape, and two others will be repaired. It is high time we extend that flight deck all the way to Akagi’s bow. I will order her home from Truk to Hashirajima. Kaga as well. Both of those old ladies can use a good refit. In fact, the work on Akagi was already scheduled right after this operation, so things are not as bad as they seem. In the meantime, Tosa will be assigned to Carrier Division 2 in place of Hiryu.”

  “You are too kind, Admiral. I bear the full responsibility for the losses we have suffered. The presence of those enemy battleships and carriers at sea should have been discovered, but we were too single-mindedly focused on Pearl Harbor.”

  “One must always expect the unexpected,” said Yamamoto. “In this case, who could have expected the Siberians to intervene as they did? They had no navy to speak of.”

  “What about the demands they have made?”

  “What about them?” Yamamoto folded his hands. “Neither Tojo nor the Emperor is about to simply hand them back all the territories we have been sitting on for thirty years. So it is war, with Siberia and the United States. We knew this would be the likely outcome of our attack. In this event, Urajio is now more important than ever. The Army has made it their primary port for supporting the Kwangtung Group. The Siberians used the element of surprise to attack us as they did. We know the advantage of that, but there is little else they can do on land. Yet one thing was disturbing about the action off Hawaii. We have learned the Siberians radioed a warning to the Americans, giving them the exact position of the Kido Butai on the morning of December 7th. This was most likely how the Americans were able to move their carriers and some of those battleships out of the harbor and operate against you.”

  “If that was the case,” said Nagumo, “then why were they so ill prepared when our first strike wave came in?”