Lions at Dawn (Kirov Series Book 28) Page 20

  “They aren’t here, sir,” said Harada. “As far as we’ve been able to discern, Kirov is the only ship that was displaced.”

  “Yes… Kirov is a problem if it really is here, and out to do what you say.”

  “It has to be stopped, sir,” said Fukada. “Takami couldn’t do it alone, but now we can. We can put that ship at the bottom of the sea where it belongs.”

  “Alright, the first thing to do now is get the rest of the Task Force up to speed. I’d better start with all the senior officers from each ship. We’ll convene a meeting here aboard Kaga, and it’s likely to be a little chaotic. I’ll want the two of you here for that as well. There’s a good deal to sort out here—a real nightmare. I don’t think I can make the decision on my own and impose it on these men and women. We’ll either stand together as one mind on this, or not. You can make your best case, Commander Fukada, but understand that this may come down to a vote.”

  “And if they decide not to intervene? What then?”

  “Good question. I’ll have to ask everyone to think on that, and if there is a no vote, it will have to come with some plausible course of action.”

  That meeting would become a five hour marathon, and the decision would take a day. A determination was made that it would have to be put to the crews as well, and not just rest with the senior officers. So that very hour, the blind men all gathered round the Elephant, and struggled to determine just what the damn thing was.

  Chapter 23

  The decision took another full day, and the shock of what had happened had not even really gone deeper than the skin on most of the crew. The one thing that caught their attention was the account of the attack on Truk that Fukada read to them, chapter and verse as he had it from Yamamoto. While the issue of whether they could intervene on behalf of Japan against the United States was not really decided, the vote to find, engage, and sink Kirov was unanimous. It was soon to set up what promised to be a most heated action at sea, a slice of the third world war grafted onto the hide of the second.

  The force that Admiral Kita would now command was well up to the task. Where Takami had only those eight Type-12 SSMs to throw at Kirov, now it would be fully replenished by the fleet tender and oiler, Omi. Takami’s sister ship, Atago, would double down that capability, and the two other DDGs, Kongo and Kirishima, each had 8 Extended Range Block II Harpoons. That brought the SSM count to 32 missiles, and then the escort destroyer Takao could throw in a pair of Type 90 SSMs, for a total of 34 SSMs in the launchers, with reloads aboard Omi.

  Fukada thought they now had Kirov beat in the SSM category, but he was wrong. The Russian ship still had 22 Moskit IIs left, nine more MOS-III Zircons, and five more P-900 cruise missiles, a total of 36 SSMs, or more than all five Japanese destroyers combined. And Kazan was out there as well, albeit unknown to the Japanese. Gromyko’s sub also had 16 Zircons, 16 more Kalibr 3M-54-K missiles, and another 8 of the longer range variant, the 3M-14-K. So the Russians could throw a total of 76 SSMs, clearly dominant in that category.

  Where it came to SAMs, however, the Japanese now enjoyed an advantage. They had 328 missiles in all their combined silos and launchers. Kirov still had 123 Klinok medium range missiles, 32 of the longer range S-400s, and 64 short range missiles on the Kashtan system, or a total of 219 missiles. That three to two advantage meant that the Japanese might be able to neutralize the Russian SSM advantage. They would be able to allocate more than four SAMs to every SSM the Russians could throw at them.

  But it would not merely be a question of surface ships firing missiles at one another. The new Kaga and Akagi were the real pair of jokers in this very long hand, and together they had eighteen F-35 strike fighters. They could carry the American AGM-154C JSOW, a standoff cruise weapon that could range out 70 kilometers. The range of the Lightning F-35’s could be added to that, over 2200 kilometers on internal fuel. Traditionally used in SEAD roles to suppress enemy air defense radars and missile sites, it could also be used against ships at sea, delivering a big 450kg warhead.

  The carriers were a real game changer now, but there were still three cards in Karpov’s hand that could trump anything the Japanese had, the special warheads. Those, and the inherent stealth of Kazan, were all factors that would weigh heavily on the Russian side. Yet it now remained to be seen whether Karpov could even convince Volsky and Gromyko to see his point of view on what they must do here, and that was another marathon discussion that was soon to be arranged.

  * * *

  “So you are up to the same old game here, yes Captain? That is what I will call you, for I do not recall ever promoting you to Admiral. Do you?” Volsky was clearly not happy. He eyed Karpov with that same serious face that he had always worn when dressing down an officer. His eyes were hard under those full grey brows, a man who was used to wielding authority and not shy about doing so when the circumstances required it. But Karpov did not even flinch. There was little more than a thin smile on the other man’s lips.

  They had all agreed to a truce by secure radio transmission, each side swearing on the Rodina that they would keep the peace until they had a chance to meet face to face and discuss their situation. Fedorov had been the peacemaker, convincing Volsky that they must at least meet to try and reach an understanding together. While Gromyko was not happy about revealing his position, a plan was worked out that would allow him to remain under cover.

  Fedorov chose a tiny atoll well east of Truk called Pingelap. It was 175 miles south southeast of Ponape and just under a thousand miles from Truk to the northwest. Uninhabited, it would serve as a quiet place to meet. Kazan could get in close, and then put Volsky and Gromyko ashore by boat. Karpov then agreed to keep Kirov well south, ceding control of the ship to Rodenko while he traveled with Fedorov aboard a KA-40 to the island. Thus neither Kirov or Kazan were anywhere near one another. The two vessels were separated by over 100 nautical miles of ocean.

  “Don’t think to lecture me here,” said Karpov. “Much has changed, and you are likely not aware of anything that has happened.”

  “Quite the contrary,” said Volsky. “I am aware of everything that has happened, at least anything that this old Admiral was a part of. Let me see… we last spoke to one another in Murmansk, where you produced that clever little letter from Sergei Kirov, which meant nothing, really. Yet it was a very nice trap you laid for Mister Fedorov and I, and all so you could get your hands on my ship.”

  “Let’s not tussle over that like a pair of hungry dogs with a bone,” said Karpov. “Possession is nine tenths of the law, and I control that ship at the moment. Yet this is quite interesting. How could you be here, knowing all that, when the man I spoke with in Murmansk was reported dead months ago?”

  “Yes….” Volsky’s eyes darkened. “I remember that as well. Believe me, it is a very strange thing to be standing here, and able to remember the moment of your own death. One would think he would have made it to either heaven or hell to have such a recollection, and it appears I am back in the same old hell we created here, and find the devil up to his same old tricks.”

  “Come now,” said Karpov. “You cannot lay the blame for all of this at my feet. It was your own doing as well… Or at least that of another Volsky I once knew. I suppose you know nothing of that, and can be forgiven.”

  “Not at all, I remember that man as well.” Volsky pointed to his thick grey hair. “You see, this old head of mind is quite full now. Within it are the layered recollections of all these men, just like Director Kamenski tried to tell me. It was that way with him, and so it is with me. Time has poured a lot of tea into my cup, perhaps more than I can drink, but I do my best.”

  “You mean you also recall our original mission? You remember the accident with Oran?”

  “Of course, and all that followed. And I seem to recall you making a pledge to me in the Mediterranean that you would never betray me, or our ship and crew again if I sent you back to the bridge to help Mister Fedorov. Then there was that other promise you made m
e after I entrusted you with command of the Red Banner Fleet in the Pacific when we finally got home. So much for your promises. I had to board Kazan and hound you all the way back to 1908 to try and get you to see reason and withdraw from this nightmare, and now here we are with that same question before us again, for that is what we must do.”

  Karpov had deliberately prodded the Admiral to see if he really did recall those events. He was still suspicious, for Fedorov could have told him these things secretly, so he asked one more question.

  “Well Admiral, do you also recall a little meeting you and I had in the brig aboard Kirov—in the Med?”

  “Of course,” said Volsky.

  “You offered me something there at the end, do you recall it?”

  “Offered you something?” Volsky thought for a moment, then smiled. “Vodka,” he said. “Just a little something to soothe raw tempers, on both sides.”

  Karpov nodded. That was something Fedorov would have no knowledge of, and if Volsky ever told him about the meeting, it seemed unlikely that he would have conveyed that little detail. So Volsky was telling the truth. His head was filled with the memories of both the Admirals he knew… and there was also a third man in there, from another Meridian where the strange figure of Kamenski had emerged with this plan to purge the continuum of all contamination.

  “Alright,” said Karpov. “We have business to discuss.”

  “Fedorov tells me you have agreed that we must move the ship forward to our own time.”

  “Yes, I agreed,” said Karpov, “but to which time? Which world—the one where the man who offered me that drink once lived, the one you came from before we met at Murmansk, or the one you were in before Kamenski arranged this little scheme?”

  “A good question,” said Fedorov.

  “Remember what I said earlier aboard Kirov? How can we move forward to places where we might already exist?” That had been one of Karpov’s most convincing arguments earlier, and Fedorov still remembered how he had laid out his thinking.

  ‘If we do this—shift forward—where in God’s name do you think we’ll end up? Did Kamenski talk about that?... Which 2021—from which meridian? Will we arrive back where we first started? Will we reach the future we may be building now on this altered meridian? Was that where Gromyko shifted in from with Volsky? Did you hear what he said? Volsky has a third layer of memories in that old head of his. He said he was just sitting at his desk at Red Banner Fleet headquarters when in walked Kamenski. How could he be doing that, when we both know he was supposed to be aboard Kirov? That means that timeline was not the original one we came from. It was a third world.’

  ‘So let’s explore this further. Was Kirov in that world along with Volsky? Kazan was. Were you there? Zolkin? The rest of the crew? Is there another version of me there... If I’m already there, what would happen if two more versions of myself try to shift to that world? Don’t you see? We can’t simply shift off to that future. Time won’t allow it. I’m all for rounding up all the other loose ends, but before we do anything more, we’ll have to all huddle and figure this out. There are too many unanswered questions.’

  Too many unanswered questions indeed.

  “I don’t think we can answer that,” said Fedorov. “It’s not something we can control. We’ll just have to leave it to Mother Time.”

  “Yes, yes… the busy Mother Time,” said Karpov. “Won’t this create a very difficult problem for her—another Paradox?”

  “Time will do everything possible to prevent that.”

  “And perhaps everything impossible as well,” said Karpov. “Forgive me if I view that journey with some trepidation. Who knows what might happen to us? Don’t you realize that every time we shift, we place ourselves in the clutches of that woman? Time will be getting very annoyed with our meddling by now. Yes, we’ve broken her meridian into all these different possible futures, and if we do try to shift forward again, which hotel will she check us into? Believe me, we may not like the accommodations.”

  “I thought you agreed that we would do this—move forward to the time where we belong.” Volsky had a suspicious look on his face.

  “Yes, I agreed,” said Karpov. “I merely point out the difficulties—things we must consider. Unlike you, Admiral, my head holds only one set of memories—from the original meridian when we had that accident with Orel. My brother self has all the recollections from his world, and who knows if there is yet a third version of me in the world you just came from with Kamenski. Frankly, I don’t think I can go there. Time has no room reserved for me there.”

  “But you may get back to the time line where you originated,” said Fedorov. “You don’t exist there after you took Kirov out to sea and vanished in the Pacific, so that is a safe haven, with no possibility of paradox occurring.”

  “You believe Time is going to put all the shoes back in the correct box? Forgive me if I have my doubts about this.”

  “It’s all she could do,” said Fedorov. “Each of us will get to a place where it is possible for us to manifest, and then that is the world where we must live out the rest of our lives.”

  “That may be well and good for you,” said Karpov. “The Admiral can go back to his desk, and you, Captain Gromyko, can go back to your war in 2021. Who knows what she will do with you, Fedorov. Your head holds the memories of two lives, so it will have to be one of those. If you end up back on the original timeline, you and I might travel there together. As for my brother, he will have to take a separate train. We can’t share any of those possible futures together.”

  “He’ll get to his world, the one he came from, and you’ll get to the original meridian,” said Fedorov, trying to put this issue to rest.

  “Perhaps, but I’ve already seen that world. I told you I went up the stairway at Ilanskiy and it wasn’t very pleasant. Someone dropped a nuke on Kansk, so I get a nice little hell if I do this, a demotion from Admiral and head of the Free Siberian State, to a lowly Captain in the midst of World War Three.”

  “It’s either that or we get to the dirty business here,” said Gromyko. He had been silent all this time, but became increasingly annoyed with Karpov’s freewheeling attitude.

  Karpov gave him a long look. “Do you really want to lock horns with me, Captain?” He leaned heavily on that last word, letting the other man know that he saw himself as something much more than a Captain by rank, and a cut well above Gromyko’s pay grade.

  Gromyko remained cool, calmly folding his arms. “I could ask you the same question?”

  “Look,” Fedorov intervened. “This gets us nowhere. Whatever we do, we have to reach an accord here. There are other fish to fry. We’ve got Ivan Volkov to deal with, and we’ve also got Orlov at large somewhere, so this may take some time. Orlov is likely to reappear and I think that must be at Ilanskiy, but we can’t know when. He might have shifted into 1944, or 1945. We have no way of knowing, nor can we go to those times to look for him.”

  “Good,” said Karpov. “No wild bear hunt for Orlov this time. I agree that he will probably appear at Ilanskiy, and I’ve already set the watch for him there. That’s all we can do. As for Volkov, we will have to take stronger measures. I may agree to move forward, but I do not think Volkov will.”

  “Then we will have to persuade him,” said Volsky, “and you, Mister Karpov, can be a most persuasive man. We both know that Kirov has special warheads. Kazan has them too. So we can be very persuasive.”

  “My, Admiral, you’ve certainly changed colors concerning the nuclear option. What do you suggest, that we nuke Orenburg? I’ve considered that, but its nearly 2000 miles from the Arabian Sea, and over 1500 from the Persian Gulf. We would have to be in the Black Sea to do so. That’s under a thousand miles range, and even then I’d have to make the delivery with one of the KA-40s… Unless of course Gromyko has something with better range than my P-900s. Who knows, we might get lucky and catch Volkov at home.”

  “Perhaps the threat alone would be sufficient,” said Vol
sky.

  “If we make such a threat,” said Fedorov. “Then Volkov would probably abandon that city, and then we’d never find him.”

  “Oh, I’ll find him,” said Karpov. “My man Tyrenkov is very clever. His network will turn up the location of a man like Volkov easily enough. He’s a head of state, and trying to run a war with his good friend Adolf Hitler. We’d find him.”

  “And then just nuke the location? He’s not stupid. You know he would move as far north on his territory as possible to get out of range of any sea based attack. Besides, we’d kill a whole lot of other people if we do that, and who can say if those lives might matter a great deal to the future?”

  “Don’t get squeamish on us now, Fedorov,” said Karpov.

  “That’s not my being squeamish. It’s just common sense. We’ve already done terrible damage here. Perhaps it’s irreparable. Shouldn’t we try something a little less traumatic? If it’s true what you say, and Tyrenkov can locate Volkov, then a good sniper might be the best way to proceed. Let’s use a needle to stitch away this problem, not a hammer.”

  “I suppose you have a point there,” said Volsky. “Very well, but will we give this man an opportunity to come along of his own accord?”

  “Volkov?” Karpov laughed at that. “No, I think he is too rooted here to give up his Orenburg Federation.”

  “I see,” said Volsky. “And are you ready to give up your Free Siberian State?”

  Karpov gave him a narrow eyed stare.

  Chapter 24

  Admiral Kita looked over the results for some time. The vote was in from every ship, and there were two questions on the ballot. The first was answered with an almost unanimous vote in the affirmative—shall we use this task force to find and destroy the Russian ship Kirov? There was no question that the crew wanted that resolved, and they were ready for the battle that decision might bring. It was what they had trained for, and what they would be doing now if Kirov were at large in their own time to threaten Japan’s interests.