Kirov II: Cauldron Of Fire (Kirov Series) (45 page)

He paused, letting Nikolin catch up in his translation, but
could see Tovey’s frustration, and the confusion that must surely be plaguing
him. Yet he noted how the man composed himself, inclining his head and asking
another question.

“Was your ship built by the Soviet Union? And are you
telling me you are at sea without orders, and against the wishes of the Soviet
government? You are a renegade ship out of the Black Sea?”

“Admiral…You know very well that Soviet Russia could not
build a ship that can do what you have witnessed my vessel do in battle, at
least not today. We have just fought a long night engagement with two of your
battleships. What were they called Fedorov?”


Nelson
and
Rodney
, sir.”

Volsky nodded, repeating the names as best he could. “
Nelson
and
Rodney
. More a admirals. It was an unfortunate engagement, and one I
hope we do not have to repeat. It was our intention to outrun these ships and
avoid combat. At least that is what my young Captain here, who commanded that
action, tells me. But your ships fought well. I will express my regret to you
now for any loss of life, but to secure the safety of my own ship, this
engagement became an unfortunate necessity. Suppose I were to tell you that my
ship
was
built in Russia. Could you believe that? I do not think so.
What ship in Stalin’s navy could stand with your
Nelson
and
Rodney
and come away from that battle unscathed? No. The Soviet government does not
know that we even exist.”

“I see…” Tovey was silent for a moment, thinking. “These
weapons you deploy…They are certainly beyond our own means for the moment, unlike
anything we have ever seen. Oh, I must tell you that rocketry is as old as
gunpowder, but yet you seem to have perfected the art in a manner that is…
rather frightening, at least to the men who have faced your weapons, and died…”

“For that I am truly sorry. I will tell you that I, too,
have put men into the sea that I would rather see standing at their posts this
evening. What more can be said of that? I will weep for them in my own time.”

“Then
do
you serve a nation, Admiral? You are not
German as we first thought; not Italian, not French as you wished us to
believe. You clearly
are
Russian, but claim you bear no allegiance to
the Soviet Union, our ally in this war at the moment, as I hope you must know.”

“At the moment,” said Volsky, thinking he had said just a
little too much with that. “Admiral Tovey,” he settled his voice, intent on
forcing some new line in the discussion. “None of this matters, and there is no
point in discussing these details. We are here, you are there. This thin
boundary separates us, this line between the ocean and the sea at our feet, and
yet it is a gulf that may seem impossible for either of us to ever cross. Still
we must try to do so as best we can.”

Tovey considered that, his eyes narrowed under his thin
brows, lips taut. “I must tell you, Admiral, that I have brought my fleet here
to make an end of your ship, and to put it at the bottom of the sea if I can do
so. The oceans wide may appear to be the province of God, and God alone, but at
this moment, as I stand here now before you, they are in point of fact the
domain of the Royal Navy, and the British Empire that built it.”

“And there is a difference between us now,” said Volsky.
“For I will not lay claim to God’s great seas, nor did I bring my ship here to
quarrel with you or your nation. I will admit that there are officers aboard my
vessel who wished you no good once our battle was joined. Yet I do not sail
here to throw down a gauntlet before your British Empire, or to contest these
waters for any hope of gain. Your ships gave challenge. We defended ourselves.
Men have died on both sides, and I am seeking a way to end this nightmare and
go home. Yes, if you must know the truth, Admiral, I am simply trying to find
my way home again.”

“And yet you cannot even say where that is? Where in blazes
did you come from?”

Nikolin had a little difficulty translating that last line,
but knew enough to indicate that Admiral Tovey was expressing some anger. “He
wants to know where we have come from, and I believe he getting a little angry
about it, sir.”

“You might say: where the hell you’ve come from?” The Able
Seaman at Tovey’s side put in.

Volsky nodded his understanding. “For the third time, I
cannot answer that,” he said. “For both our sakes. You will not know what I
mean just yet, but perhaps you will in time.” Then he spied the high promontory
of the fortress wall on the hillside above them, and noted the gun casements
that had been built for shore batteries at the foot of the walls. “Look there,”
he pointed. “My young officer Fedorov here tells me those walls were built by
the Moors in the twelfth century. And below them there are casements and gun
positions to be manned by men guarding these waters today. Years ago the Caliph
of Morocco was master of these straits. Today it is your ships and guns who
guard the way. And what if you were to sail here in your flagship one day,
Admiral, and find those gun casements missing, seeing only the walls of that
castle in their place? What if you were to meet the Moorish swordsmen and
archers there, and they boldly told you that all you could see, on every
quarter, was the domain of Abdul Ar Rahman?” Volsky glanced at Fedorov, a quiet
smile on his lips, then continued.

“Things change, Admiral Tovey. Things change. I cannot
answer your questions any more than you could explain your existence to the men
who built that fortress. I can only say this: If you wish to try and put my
ship at the bottom of the sea, then I must prevent you from doing so. Yes, your
Royal Navy is here, and no doubt with all your finest ships, but they will not
be enough, Admiral. They will not be enough. I must tell you that I did not
wish to see the destruction that occurred when last we met at sea. There was
great disagreement among my senior officers as to what should be done, and how
much force should be used. Unfortunately, I was indisposed when it came to
battle, and my ship was under the command of another officer, with another mind
as to how the matter should have been dealt with. And yet, while I am reluctant
to act in that same manner, I must tell you that I have the power to do so—that
my ship has the power to sail on though these narrow straits, and find the open
sea by force of arms if necessary, and you have not seen even a small measure
of what we are truly capable of doing in battle.”

Tovey frowned, a grave expression on his face, but Volsky
continued, his tone changing now, more human, and with no hint of bravado in
his voice. “There,” he said. “We have both thumped our chests like a pair of old
fools, and now we must decide what happens next. We can decide as Admirals in a
sea of war, or we can decide as men, eye to eye, and face to face, and find
another solution. We can use our warships to settle the matter, or our
intelligence, and perhaps a little more. There was a great Russian writer who
put it this way: ‘It takes something more than intelligence to act
intelligently.’ We must find what that is, you and I, or I’m afraid a great
many more men will pay the price of our stupidity.”

Tovey took that in, considering. Yes, it made all the sense
in the world now to find a way to settle this amicably, and without more loss
of life, or ships for that matter. If he fought here, as he had hastened south
with so much might to do, what would be left of his fleet at battle’s end, even
if he did prevail? Yet how could he allow a ship with such power to sail out
into the Atlantic where the life blood of the Empire now moved in big fat
convoys, guarded by ships of war—convoys like the one they had just risked so
much to fight through to Malta. If he let this ship pass it could pose the
gravest threat to those sea lanes. The outcome of the entire war effort could
depend on their security. He had this mysterious ship before him now, and
wondered if he would ever have such an opportunity again. He cleared his voice
and spoke his mind.

“I am charged with the security of these sea lanes, sir.
Surely you must understand that.”

“Well, Admiral, it has come to the eleventh hour, and
fearing what might happen if we let the time slip by to midnight without reason
having a seat at the table, let me make a proposal. I seek an armistice in our
private little war within a war here. You are busy enough with the Germans and
Italians. Yes? So I ask you to leave my ship alone now and grant us safe
passage through these straits and to give us the open sea you claim to rule.
You may wish to know my intentions, and I will tell you that I have no hostile
aim, nor do I wish to engage in any further combat, or even
contact
with
your navy or that of any other nation. As to the security of your convoys, I
must leave that to you, but I will give you my pledge that my ship will not
fire on any merchant vessel we encounter, on any side in this war. We will give
them a wide berth and do no harm. This is my word to you.” He paused briefly,
allowing Nikolin to catch up, and noting Tovey’s facial expressions to read his
response.

“All I wish is to find a nice peaceful island somewhere out
of the stream of this war and consider how I can get my men and ship home
again. To put this formally, I ask you now for safe passage in exchange for a
pledge of armistice and neutrality. It would be my intention to get as far away
from your war as my ship can possibly take me. Yes, I know it is a world war,
and that may prove difficult, but there must be some island out there where I
can get some sleep and find some peace and quiet to think. And if I never see
another man die at sea, particularly as a result of my commands, then I will be
a happier man for it. So that is my offer. That is all I desire, Admiral.” He
nodded his head. “And perhaps a nice bowl of borscht and a bottle of good vodka
once in a while.” He smiled, seeing his last remark well taken by Tovey.

Then the British Admiral’s eyes hardened for a moment.
Tovey clasped his hands behind his back, thinking as he gazed up at the tawny
sundrenched walls of the Moorish fortifications. This Captain Nemo had said a
good bit with that business about the castle, he realized. Perhaps he said more
than he might have wished.

His eyes seemed to see far now, as if he were suddenly
aware of distant events, a future time unseen, when this war was long over…when
the British Empire itself was long gone, and when other men might walk the
rocky shores of this island with no thought of conflict and war in their minds.
Was that ever possible? He knew what the Admiralty would advise him here—what
they would in fact order him to do. Somerville had faced it at Mers-el Kebir
when he had asked the French fleet to join the Empire, and that failing, to
scuttle their ships. They refused, of course, even as he himself would in the
same situation. Yes, pride goeth before the fall, but pride could be as much a
virtue as a vice, and he had little doubt that this Admiral before him would be
found a proud and willful man if put to the test.

The man wanted to find an island, he thought, a mysterious
island where he could rest and think. Well, we moved heaven and earth to put
Napoleon on one. Here he is looking to make a graceful bow and drop anchor on
his own St. Helena. The man’s earnest desire to avoid further conflict was both
obvious and admirable. Might he consider another proposal? It was worth the offer,
and he spoke his mind.

“Admiral, I am inclined to believe you when you state your
wish to avoid further hostilities. You have asked me to consider the question
of armistice. May I ask you if you would consider the question of alliance?
Might we two become friends instead of the witless enemies we have been up
until now?”

Volsky smiled, as he had thought long and hard about this
possible meeting, and knew this question would inevitably arise. The matter was
coming to a head, and he knew his response now would be critical. He looked
Tovey squarely in the eye. “If you had lightning in a bottle, would you pour it
in your friend’s glass, or your enemies?” He smiled. “I think to make either
choice would end up killing them both. No, Admiral. I cannot join your war. We
fought only because we had to—fought Italians ships and German planes, and you
British as well. For a long time I think you believed we were a German ship.
And the Italians and Germans may now think we are British. But if it is all the
same to you, I think we would be most unwise to take any side in this war. We
have done enough harm as it stands.”

“I see,” said Tovey, not surprised by the answer. The
question was now starkly before him. There would be no alliance, but would
there be war or peace with this man and his mysterious and terrible ship of
war? With four battleships at hand Tovey still believed he had the means to
prevail if it came to further conflict, but he was under no illusion that the
task would be easy, or that he would even live to see it to a successful
completion. He was going to lose ships and men if he fought now, that much was
certain. Then an idea came to him. He knew it might cost his command, and even
his rank and position in the Royal Navy itself, but somehow neither of those
things seem to weigh in the balance.

“We faced this same dilemma with the French fleet, on more
than one occasion,” he began. “Now they are sitting comfortably at Toulon,
though we did have word that the
Strasbourg
had been heading this way.”
He gave Volsky a knowing smile. “That said, might you consider sailing to a
neutral country, under Royal Navy escort, and accept internment for the
duration of the war?”

Again, this was not unexpected, but Volsky shook his head,
smiling. “Admiral, do you think this ship would be left in peace under such
circumstances? In what port, on any shore, could we drop anchor without fear
that there would be men who would be very, very curious about us, men who would
want to ask the same questions that remain in your mind? No. Such questions
must remain unanswered, and it would be better if they were never asked. We
must have freedom of movement to assure ourselves that this would be the case.”

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