Kirov Saga: Armageddon (Kirov Series) (28 page)

“This was the answer to your question, Mister Fedorov. Perhaps we
might have done something to re-write the history in Captain Gromyko’s head,
but I think Mother Time had other ideas.”

“It appears so, Director,” said Fedorov. “Signals traffic gives
every indication that we are now in the pre-radio age. The question is when? We
do not have a handle on the correct date yet, but I believe that we must be here
after Karpov has already arrived aboard
Kirov
.”

“Why do you say this?” asked Gromyko. “Why not months before he
got here?”

“That is a possibility, though it would be very problematic for
time to work out—and for us. You see, many here shifted back to 1908 aboard
Anatoly
Alexandrov
. If we have just arrived here
before
that time, then what
happens to us at the moment when we first shifted here on the floating power
plant? There would be two of us, and something tells me that even in the midst
of all these incongruous and astounding events, that would be impossible—two
Fedorovs, two Dobrynins, two Sergeant Troyaks, two Orlovs, and so on. We cannot
co-locate in any time period where we already exist. Time would not allow that
shift, which would upset everything. The backwards shift of the
Anatoly
Alexandrov
must happen for us to even be here! Understand?”

“Very wise,” said Kamenski. “That would create quite an accounting
problem for time when that day rolled around.”

“Yes,” said Fedorov, “and so I think it is simply not possible for
us to shift to an earlier day. We must be here
after
our shift home.”

“Alright,” said Volsky. “Let us assume that time wishes to impose
some order on our shenanigans here. Let us assume we have arrived after that
date. What day might this be?”

“The
Anatoly Alexandrov
arrived here August 17, 1908. We
went ashore on the Caspian coast to verify that date. We were only there 48
hours, waiting for Karpov to decide what to do. It was August 19th when we
shifted all the way back to 2021. So my guess is that we have arrived here from
the 20th day of August, or later.”

“What if it is months later?” said Gromyko.

“Then we would be too late, and Karpov would have worked his
mischief. We would have failed, and so we should have known about that before
we left. No…I think we still have a chance to succeed. I think everything is
still in the whirlwind. That is why we could not know what Karpov did before we
departed 2021. The possibility of our success here existed and forced time to
suspend judgment—is that not so, Director Kamenski?”

“This is the way I reason it. I believe the rifts in time are also
very limited and specific—the gopher holes, as I call them. Clearly there was a
tunnel from 2021 to the 1940s on that back stairway in the inn at Ilanskiy.
Karpov may have broken into another borehole in time when his attack on the
Iowa
shifted
Kirov
here.”

“Yes,” said Volsky. “But I have never understood why
Orlan
did not shift as well, and why it suffered the fate I saw in that old
photograph you gave me, swarmed over by a hundred American planes.
Kirov
shifted, but not
Orlan
.”

“
Kirov
is the slippery fish,” said Kamenski. “It has
bounced back and forth in time so often that its position in any given milieu
is never certain.”

“I agree,” said Fedorov, recalling that awful moment on the bridge
when the Japanese cruiser
Tone
came barreling out of the mist and
appeared to sail right through the ship. “In the early stages the ship seemed
to pulse in time, moving in and out before finally stabilizing. That was before
we understood the controlling effects of Rod-25.”

“So in that light, given a situation where an event causes the
fabric of time to break,
Kirov
has an affinity for slipping through the cracks.
I suppose that may have happened to
Orlan
as well if it had survived
that last battle. But our
Sea Eagle
falls in 1945, never to sortie on
the waters of infinity again. Now, gentlemen, we must decide on how we handle
Kirov
—that
slippery fish out there somewhere—before it slips away again.”

“As I see it we have only those same two choices,” said Fedorov.
“We either persuade Karpov to come to his senses and rejoin us—we net the fish
and then try to get us all home to 2021. The other choice is the hard one—we
must kill the white whale—spear the fish and make an end of Karpov that way.”

There was silence for some time, then Gromyko spoke. “If I have to
spear this fish, will I have tactical command of how I fight this battle?”

Admiral Volsky seemed weary now, his eyes heavy, brow furrowed,
and a sense of sadness in his voice. “If we fight, then yes, Gromyko, you will
command
Kazan
in battle. I do not know the first thing about how this
submarine fights, and I have already witnessed your skills when you dueled with
the Japanese and Americans to get us here. As to whether or not you actually
engage, however, that will be my decision. I would hope it could be avoided. My
first choice will be to try and persuade Karpov to rejoin us.”

“So we will surrender the element of surprise?”

“I can see no other way, and I know this presents us all with yet
another possibility here, and a rather dark one. What if we fail, even with
Kazan?
What if Karpov is the one who spears this slippery fish?”

Gromyko folded his arms. “I will do everything possible to prevent
that,” he said, “and I have every confidence we can prevail.”

“Mister Fedorov?” Volsky looked at his young Captain now. “What do
you think?”

“I cannot say I am well versed in combat, sir. I learned a great
deal from Karpov, and from watching Gromyko earlier. It will be a sad thing to
watch, but one hell of a fight if it comes to it.”

“Well I will say one thing,” said Volsky. “I suppose the
professors and instructors at the war colleges might also agree. All things
being equal, the submarine had the edge if it comes to a duel with a single
surface ship like this. How would you attack, Gromyko?”

“Well sir, we have a good array of weapons aboard. Torpedoes are
perhaps our most deadly weapon. If I can get within 20 kilometers of that ship
I can pose a dire threat with torpedoes. But we can attack with missiles as
well. I have 32 VLS tubes armed with an array of P-800s and P-900s. The latter
are 3M-54E variants with a range of 220 kilometers and a terminal attack speed
of nearly Mach 3 on their final run to the target. A large salvo would be very
hard for a single ship to deal with. The only trick is finding the ship before
we fire. Our radar seems inoperative.”

“That is a residual effect from the time displacement. It will
clear up shortly, and then I will contact Karpov and see what I can do to avoid
further action. The ship has a formidable SAM defense, and Karpov knows how to
use it.”

“I have seen Karpov in battle,” said Fedorov. “And I also believe
I know how he thinks in battle. Perhaps I could assist you if it comes down to
combat.”

“I would welcome anything you may have to say,” said Gromyko.
“Were there helicopters aboard?”

“The normal loadout, two KA-40s and a KA-226. But again, I cannot
say if they all survived to reach 1908 with the ship.”

“I must assume as much,” said Gromyko. “Well,” he sighed, “we have
gamed this many times on maneuvers. I did trials against
Pyotr Veliky
before that ship went in for refit. It was the longest serving
Kirov
class ship, and very capable.”

“Yes,” said Volsky. “Well you will be fighting a piece or two of
that ship should you face the new
Kirov
. We used parts of all four
vessels in the original class.”

“There is one more thing,” said Gromyko. “We have special
warheads…”

Volsky gave him a sallow look. “What is your inventory?” he said
quietly, an uncomfortable edge to his voice.

“We have two RU-100
Veter
torpedoes with 20 kiloton nuclear
warheads. The rest are RU-40 conventional torpedoes, six of those with a range
of 120 kilometers.” The
Veter
was a rocket assisted weapon that actually
entered the atmosphere to cross much of that distance before diving into the
sea again to become a torpedo in this new variant.
Veter
meant “wind” in
Russian, and these lances carried a dark storm of anger on the wind if they
were fired.

“We also have one 15 Kiloton warhead for the P-900s.”

“I must remind you that
Kirov
had a loadout of special
warheads as well. There is every reason to believe that Karpov has already used
one or more of these weapons—in 1945. So you see the Americans were correct
after all. The Russians did attack them with atomic weapons, wielded by a
madman. God help us all if it comes down to this again here.”

“Indeed,” said Kamenski. “We have been punching holes in time with
our nuclear weapons for decades. Now we have made a veritable Swiss cheese of
things. Let us hope this is the end of all that, but it may be necessary if
push comes to shove here.”

 “I fear as much,” said Volsky.

Chapter 24

Karpov
was standing with Rodenko at the tactical station, reviewing the
data that had been fed to the ship on the last long range search by the KA-40.
It was clear that the Japanese were now attempting to lead him south. He had
brushed aside the screen of light torpedo boats that had challenged him, and
now the main event was nigh at hand—Armageddon.

“So there they sit,” said Karpov with a smug look on his face.
“Four or five old battleships, and perhaps ten to twelve armored cruisers like
those we smashed earlier in the Oki Island group. The rest are destroyers and
torpedo boats. This will be much easier than you may realize, Rodenko. We will
close to about 20,000 meters and begin using the deck guns. That will shock
them. We’ll just make selected pot shots and shake them up as before. Then I
will show them a few of our modified S-400s and shred their decks and
superstructures with shrapnel. If a massed flotilla presents itself, the
Vodopad
torpedoes would be an easy reprise. One torpedo should be fairly lethal, and
being rocket assisted, they will get to their targets like missiles. As soon as
Togo has the temerity to present himself on his flagship, I will put a
Moskit-II
into his belly and see how he likes the fire. Even if we have to use five
missiles here, that should wreak havoc on those old ships and still leave us a
considerable inventory for post-operations maneuvers.”

Rodenko raised an eyebrow at that. “What is it you have in mind,
Captain?”

“Once I smash the enemy fleet here, we will push on through the strait
and into the Yellow Sea. I’ll sink anything that bears a Japanese flag, and
then we stand off Port Arthur and impose our quarantine.”

“Captain, sir.” It was Nikolin in communication with the KA-40.
“The helicopter is on return approach and they say they have one final data
block to upload to the CIC here.”

“Ah, so our tactical board is not complete. Have them send it now,
Nikolin. We need all the information here before I open the action.”

“It’s a video feed associated with their last radar sweep.”

“Put it on the overhead HD panel.”

The two men stepped from behind the glowing Plexiglas Tactical
Board and stood waiting for the feed to display. Then Karpov squinted, his head
inclined to stare at the image on the screen. It was clearly a line of
warships, laboring through the rising seas.

“Well, well, well,” said Karpov, hand on his chin. “Freeze that
shot Nikolin….Good. Now zoom in please….There. What do you make of that,
Rodenko? Note the standard that lead ship is flying.”

“British, sir.”

“Indeed. It seems we may have missed something in our research.
What would British ships be doing out here?”

“I believe they had ships at Hong Kong, Captain.”

“No,” said Karpov, holding up a finger. “These can’t be from Hong
Kong. Now I remember! They had to come from the China Station at Weihaiwei on
the Yellow Sea. Well this is getting very interesting—six more ships joining
the party.”

“The radar returns are showing up on my tactical board now,” said
Rodenko. “Course and speed indicate they are moving towards the battle zone.
This will bring the total force deployed to 35 ships, sir, assuming the British
side with the Japanese.”

The Captain folded his arms, somewhat annoyed. “This complicates
things,” he said. “If the British get involved that forces my hand into a conflict
with the Royal Navy. That doesn’t matter militarily. I’ll deal with those ships
as easily as I handle the Japanese, but it does bode ill for Russia’s prospects
in the future if we go to war with Britain.”

It was the first surprise Karpov would have that day, but it would
not be the last. Nikolin was sitting at his station, quietly monitoring
telegraph traffic. The Japanese had been very silent and the signals he was
listening to were in plain Morse. It appeared to be routine commercial traffic.
Ships were checking weather information, sea conditions, requesting berthing,
and traffic was very light. Then his HF secure coded military band suddenly
indicated an incoming transmission, and he nearly jumped out of his seat. He
stared at the light, quickly adjusting his headphones as he reached for the
switch to activate that channel.