Kirov Saga: Devil's Garden (Kirov Series) (15 page)

“You
have been sent from St. Petersburg?” The Mayor finally found his voice.

“I
came on my own accord,” Karpov knew that a lie here would be easily found out,
so he told the truth instead. “The Tsar has been somewhat preoccupied with the events
that have become a source of much unrest in the empire. The setbacks here have
not gone unnoticed, however, and they will take some doing to reverse. I am
here, very briefly, to tell you what will happen.”

“I
don’t understand,” said the Mayor. “I was told to receive the new Viceroy of
the Far East, yet we have had no confirmation from St. Petersburg on this
appointment.”

“Nor
will you. St. Petersburg is a mess of Bolsheviks, Mensheviks and the Okhrana
chasing both out of every church and Labor Party meeting they can find. The
unrest there has only just begun, gentlemen. It will get much worse. In the
meantime
we
are here, and there is much to be done. If you wish, please
notify St. Petersburg and inform them that I intend to repudiate the Portsmouth
Treaty settling the war of 1905.”

“You
intend what? Repudiate the treaty? Is this a directive from St. Petersburg?”

“It
is my directive. I am the sole authority in the Pacific region now, and I will
shortly demonstrate that in no uncertain terms. As you can see, gentlemen, that
is no ordinary ship.” The Captain pointed a stiff arm at his battlecruiser, his
eyes narrowing, yet alive with inner energy. “That is the most advanced and
powerful vessel Russia has ever deployed, and I am its commander. I intend to
use it to further the interests of the Russian Empire, and you will take note
of what I do with it in due course. You have had your chance here, and you have
lost your war. The recent disaster at Tsushima was the greatest humiliation
ever to be suffered by the Russian Navy. I intend to redress that.”

Both
men gave Karpov a look of complete amazement. “You intend to renew the war on
Japan?”

“I
do.”

Tomkin
cocked his head to one side, his tall hat tilting at a steep angle as he did
so, but remaining firmly attached to his head. “I strongly advise you to take
no action that will upset a hard negotiated peace here, Captain. You may do
more harm than good. If you have been sent here as a reinforcement for the
fleet, then we will arrange for you to meet with the commander of the cruiser
squadron and settle in. But there is no war here now, and we would certainly
like to keep it that way.”

“That
is a very narrow view, sir, and one that will end in more tragedy than you
could ever realize. Now… I have no desire to meet with the other ship captains.
They will not be operating with me. They are too slow and will just become a
nuisance. I can accomplish my aims with the ship I presently command.”

“With
a single warship? Why it hasn’t even any big guns to speak of.” The mayor squinted
at the ship. “Impressive size, but where are the guns?”

Karpov
raised an eyebrow, inclining his head to one side as if he were talking to
Sergeant Silenko, though he was really speaking to Rodenko through his wireless
jacket collar microphone. “Clear the aft deck. Show the good people of
Vladivostok a little lightning.”

The
Captain smiled at the Mayor. “I invite you to look over your shoulder, sir.”

The
Mayor gave him an odd look, then cast a wary glance behind him. But at that
moment there was a standard klaxon of warning and then something seemed to leap
up from the aft deck of the massive ship in the bay. It erupted with smoke and
yellow fire, streaking away as every head of the gathered throng gaped in awe
to see it lance out to the high hills behind the city and explode with a loud
report.

Karpov
smiled. “Naval rocketry, sir. A new development. I hope I have not upset
anyone’s breakfast. That was but the smallest of our missiles, and we have many
other weapons of war on this ship, cleverly hidden from your view as this one
was. In fact, we have enough weapons to destroy the entire Japanese Navy
without them even knowing what hit them. These rockets have an enormous range.”

The
look on the Mayor’s face was one of real shock and surprise.

“Time
for some changes, gentlemen,” said Karpov. “I do not expect you will believe
what I tell you now, but with that ship I will bring the whole of the Japanese
Navy under my heel, and stop their interference here in the Pacific so that
Russia may resume its rightful place as the Imperial master of these waters.
Once I deliver that news to you, perhaps you will see that I mean what I say
here. Until then, you would be wise to prepare administrative quarters for my
return. Tell St. Petersburg what I have said here, and you will soon hear news
about it. Good day, gentlemen.”

Day
8

“Each
diverse way, along the grisly rock,

Horn'd
demons I beheld, with lashes huge,

That
on their back unmercifully smote.

Ah!
how they made them bound at the first stripe!

None
for the second waited, nor the third.

Dante
Alighieri, The Inferno - Canto XVIII

Part V

Delphi

“I
am all that hath been, and is, and shall be; and my veil no mortal has hitherto
raised.”

—
Inscription
on the Shrine to Athena

Chapter
13

The
phone rang again that same evening—
the
phone. The one behind the movable bulkhead in Elena Fairchild’s private
stateroom. Captain MacRae was on the bridge of the
Argos Fire
supervising
the recovery of the Argonauts when Mack Morgan informed him that something big
was in the air. He appeared on the bridge, grim faced, and tugged MacRae into
the chartroom, closing the door behind them.

“Black
line is hot tonight, Gordon. I think things are about to get out of hand.”

“You
make it sound like we’ve been to a lawn party these last few days. You might
ask the crew of
Princess Irene
what they think of the situation.”

“I
know, this business has been crazy, but every indication is that it’s going to
get worse, and fast. The Russians are arming all their ballistic missile bastions—everything
from Yedrovo in the far north to Svobodnyy in the far east. The SS-18 silos at
Imeni Gastelllo and Uzhur are going hot tonight, and those are the big boys.
They call that missile “Satan,” and for good reason. Damn thing has ten
warheads and a real heavy throw weight. All their mobile stuff has been
dispersing to sites in the Siberian taiga, or so the line reads. I saw some
pretty frightening satellite image feeds. This bodes ill, Captain.”

“You
think they mean to let all that fly, Mack?”

“If
this war heats up any further that looks to be the next act in the play. But
there’s more! The Chinese popped one off the US West coast—EMP burst at high
altitude.”

“EMP?”

“It
had the desired effect. Most of the west coast is dark, though parts of Seattle
made it through alright.”

“Lord
almighty, that was one hell of a stupid thing to do. Now the Americans will
have to retaliate.”

“The
Chinese say this was for those missile attacks the B-2s flew against their
satellite launching sites.”

“And
those raids were for the Chinese attack on the US satellite in space. Tick-tock,
Mack. What happens next?”

“That’s
why this information on the Russians is so hot. It looks like they think the US
will have to let one fly, and they’re heating up the whole strategic triad.
They’ve already got the boomers deployed, and the bombers are taking off
tonight for fail-safe orbits. This thing is teetering on the edge of a razor
now. One more provocation could set it all off like a powder keg.”

“A
whole lot worse than that, Mack.”

“And
there’s one other thing. Her majesty has received another telephone call.”

MacRae
frowned, knowing just what Morgan meant now. “That damn red phone behind the
bulkhead?”

“Right-O.
I was in to brief her on the Bosporus transit, and we were interrupted. She
dismissed me rather abruptly and retired to her office. You know what that
means.”

“Well
what
does
is mean, Mack? She won’t speak a word about that phone, and
I’ve had the guff to question her directly on it. You’re the intelligence
officer here. Hell, you’re standing here telling me what the Russians are doing
with their ballistic missiles and we don’t even know half of what goes on right
here under our feet!”

“Aye,
it’s been a mystery, and she’s kept it close. If I had a mind I might try to
trace those signals, but I doubt that her ladyship would be very happy about
that if she ever found out what I was up to.”

“That
I can understand. Alright, you’re off the hook. I expect she’ll be wanting the
two of us in her office soon enough. Every time that damn phone rings we end up
making a major course change. God only knows what it will be this time. We lost
an X-3 the last time out.”

“Ryan
made it back to Baku. He’ll be in with the last of the Argonauts from BP
headquarters where they left the men before they went off on that cockamamie
mission. He should land in half an hour.”

“Good
enough. I’ll see that he gets a pint or two for that, and no blaming him for
the loss of that helo. They ran into a Russian missile defense battery at the
Kaspiysk Naval base—S-400s.”

“A
nasty beast, that one. He was lucky to make it out of there in one piece. I
certainly hope her ladyship doesn’t have any more pretensions about engaging
the Russians. We’ll have our hands full seeing those two big ladies out there
through the Straits. I hope to God the price of the oil made this whole odyssey
worth it. We lost some good men.”

MacRae
was silent for a moment, letting that settle between them. They always knew the
day would come when they would lose men for oil. The world had been buying oil
with blood for decades. National policy rotated about the rigs and platforms
sucking the earth and squeezing the shale for every last drop they could find.
Fairchild had made it safely to the eastern entrance of the Bosporus with two
million barrels, and it would pay for many things with spot prices up near $300
a barrel now. It would buy them new ships and helicopters easily enough, but
would it pay for the lives of those men?

“You’ve
arranged the transit?” MacRae said quietly.

“Aye,
we’ve priority access for a night move through the main channel, and with any
luck we’ll be in the Aegean by tomorrow morning.”

“I
don’t suppose it will matter much if this news about the missiles gets any
worse.” MacRae folded his brawny arms, and there came a quiet knock on the
door. Morgan opened it and Mister Dean was there, a message in his eyes.

“Excuse
me, Captain. Miss Fairchild would like—”

“Just
as I said, Mack. We’ve been summoned.”

“Yes,
sir. But the message was only for the Captain.”

“Only
for the Captain?” Mack Morgan screwed up his face, pretending to be offended.
Then he smiled. “Something tells me you’ve got on the good side of that woman,
Gordie.”

“Which
side would that be, Mack? Are you telling me you’ve seen them both?”

The
two men smiled and MacRae was through the narrow door and headed for the hatch.
“You have the con, Mister Dean.”

“Aye,
sir. Captain off the bridge.”

* * *

“Delphi?”
MacRae scratched his head with that
one. “Well, I’d have to look at a chart but it’s a little over 400 miles.”

“How
soon can we get there?”

“The
tankers have the lane tonight for a transit of the straits, so I’d say—”

“No
Gordon. How soon can
we
get there. I’ll just need a small party.”

“Without
the tankers?” He gave her a sidelong look, trying to discern what was going on
here. “Suppose you tell me what you have in mind, Madame.”

“She
smiled at him, knowing he had deliberately assumed his formal Captain’s role to
cover the fact that her request was unwelcome. She knew the man all too well by
now.

“You’re
going to ask me about the red phone next, aren’t you.”

“The
thought had crossed my mind.”

“Well,
yes there was another call. Things are happening—more than I can fully explain
right now, but we haven’t got the time I had hoped to buy with this mission. I
suppose it was foolish to think we’d get through this in one piece.”

“You’re
still brooding over
Princess Royal
and
Princess Irene
.”