Kirov Saga Men of War

Chapter 31



Admiral Volsky’s eyes shone with new light now. He was no longer that old Admiral, sitting at the desk of another old admiral, and looking longingly at the retired hulk of Admiral Lazarev down in Abrek Bay. There the ship sat, the image of Kirov from without, but nothing more than a gutted, empty hulk within, powerless and forgotten. But not so for Kirov, he thought. There was power to take to the seas again, real authority to strive and contend and decide. And they also had Rod-25, a mysterious magic wand with power unlike anything the world had ever seen. They had discovered it unknowingly, blundering into a distant age and time to wage war on war itself. And though they fought there to preserve their own lives and fate, they had also unwittingly decided the lives and fate of many others. What they did before, they could do again.

The red telephone sounded an insistent tone on his desk. It was Talanov: “Excuse me sir, but I think you had better bring up your news feed.” It was the UN General Assembly this time. The Chinese ambassador was completing a lengthy speech and making a formal demand, and ultimatum, for the passage of a resolution in the Republic of China renouncing independence.

“They are asking Taiwan to surrender before the shooting has even started there,” said Karpov.

“Always a good move, but not one likely to produce any results,” said Volsky. “This is mere formality. Moscow informs me that they will move on Taiwan no later than midnight tomorrow. Their submarines are already deploying from the major bases at Sanya and Yulin on Hainan Island to form a picket line in the South China Sea, and their new aircraft carrier is preparing to move into those waters. There is activity all along the coast from Shanghai to Dailan, Guangzhou, Shantou, Beihai and even Hong Kong. Air units are being moved and the entire navy is ramping up for deployment. We must do the same. I am going to call Admiral Shi Lang and see if I can buy us a little more time. He may not have any choice in the matter, but at the very least I will know more of what to expect in the days ahead. We have less than forty-eight hours to decide what we must do with Kirov.”

“The ship is ready, sir. We can sail within that timeframe.”

Volsky considered, looking at Fedorov and seeing the concern on his face. They had three weapons now, time, blood and steel. The problem was that there was all too little of the first, even though eternity was within their grasp in Rod-25.

“Mister Fedorov,” he said at last. “If you have any last thoughts on this matter, then let me hear them. What do you propose?”

Fedorov looked at Karpov, then set his jaw. He explained that there were two possible ways to get Orlov—one by using the ship, and the other by simply following Markov’s ill fated route. “I understand that using the ship may be impossible at the moment, sir. So I’ll go, with your permission. I’ll go to the test-bed facility and follow Markov’s route. It moved him to September of 1942, right where we need to go to find Orlov. He thinks they were taking him to Bayil Prison in Baku. If so, he’ll be in one place for a good long time. We could try and find him there.”

“How will you get there?”

“The Trans-Siberian rail.”

“That’s a long way, and very dangerous.” Karpov pointed out the obvious. “Getting back out east to the coast here with Orlov would be even more dangerous. I assume that is your plan, yes? We’d still have to run the procedure aboard Kirov again to bring you home, Fedorov. Taking time out to excuse ourselves from World War Three will not be easy. Even if we could do such a thing, how will we know when you are ready for extraction? And suppose we do this and the ship ends up in 1944! You could be left at the coast for a very long time waiting for our helicopters to show up. In fact, you could be left there for a lifetime.”

“I’m afraid I must agree,” said Volsky. “It would seem complete madness to send Kirov off into the ether under these circumstances. That ship is the heart of the fleet now. We have Admiral Kuznetsov at sea just south of Beringa Island, our only existing aircraft carrier, and it is escorted by three old Krivak Class frigates. We’ll have to do better than that. On the other hand, we have the greatest weapon imaginable at our disposal if we dare to use it again, and if it has the slightest chance of preventing this war, then we must try. Have you thought about this, Fedorov? If it works as with Markov, and you vanish as he did, how will we know what has happened to you? How could we possibly come back for you?”

“I’ll let you know if I get back to the target date safely, sir.”

“What? How will you do that, Fedorov? I don’t think there’s a secure telephone line anywhere in old Vladivostok to the year 2021.”

“No, but there are secure locations here in Vladivostok that go back centuries. I happen to own one that will come in very handy.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The old Naval Storage Depot, sir. Cellar number five. It still has old storage bins dating back to WWII, some even earlier. My father was a navy man, and so was my grandfather. He had one of the bins there, and it passed to my father and then to me. I just went to check it yesterday. It’s still there, completely untouched for decades. My grandfather’s old uniform is tucked away in a steamer trunk, and I’ll slip a note into the breast pocket.” He held up an old, weathered key, smiling.

“Nobody has bothered them at all these years,” he said. “Just have a man waiting there with this key, and as soon as we vanish he can open the bin. My letter should be right there waiting for him. I got the idea that we could do this when I found Orlov’s letter.”

“Astounding,” said Volsky.

“So you’ll know if I’ve made it back safely. Then I’ll head for Kizlyar via the Trans-Siberian rail.”

“That’s a huge distance,” said Karpov. “What if you don’t make it back safely? Look what happened to Markov! You said he was shot dead by military police on the quay within minutes of his arrival there.”

“That won’t happen to me, Captain.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because Sergeant Troyak will be with me.” He folded his arms.

“Troyak?” Karpov raised his eyebrows. “You’ve spoken to him about this?”

“He volunteered this afternoon, and two of his best Marines will round out the team. In fact he showed me comm-link devices you can use to track us on extraction. They use them for special operations.”

“You told him everything? He and his men know the risks?”

“And they also know what’s at stake.”

Volsky smiled. “Well, well, well… Yes, if you take Troyak back we will definitely get your letter, and I think you will get to Kizlyar as well. I have little doubt of that. But make no mistake, Fedorov. This is still going to be dangerous. Troyak and his men are among the best in the fleet, but they are men nonetheless, not robots. A bullet will kill them, and you, easily enough.”

“I understand, sir. It’s the risk we’ll have to take.”

“I admire your courage in this, but I must tell you that Kirov may not be able to come back for you.”

Fedorov knew this was the one weak link in his plan. Kirov might soon find itself in battle, and there was no guarantee that the ship would survive or ever find a way to extricate itself and use Rod-25 to return for them. But he had a plan.

“There’s another way, sir. Kirov is not the only ship with nuclear reactors. The Anatoly Alexandrov is in the Caspian Sea at this very moment and it operates two KLT-40B naval propulsion reactors—the exact same power rating as Kirov.”

“Anatoly Alexandrov?” Karpov raised an eyebrow in surprise. “That’s just a floating nuclear power facility. It was delivered via the rail quay at Kaspiysk to Gazprom for use in its Kashagan superfield offshore drilling operation. But I don’t even think it is crewed at the moment.” Karpov knew much about the operation as he had been a former executive in Gazprom before coming to the navy.

“Precisely, sir. It’s fully functional, but not yet scheduled for operations—and with no crew on site it is just perfect for what I have planned. All we would have to do is send Dobrynin and a few engineers with a security team from the ship. It’s anchored about ten kilometers off Kaspiysk harbor, and that is only about 120 kilometers south of Kizlyar! We can fly Rod-25 to Uytash airfield at Kaspiysk tonight. We have a coast guard base there, hovercraft, helos, the entire 77th Guard Naval Marine force at our disposal. If the Admiral orders it, we could easily commandeer the Anatoly Alexandrov, secretly install Rod-25, and it would shift the entire facility back. It displaces only 21,500 tons, which is less than Kirov. Perhaps we could move one of the new assault landing ships at Kaspiysk. I believe the Lt. Rimskiy is stationed there. It can range out to 1000 kilometers, requires only a small six man crew, and can transport 140 tons—a fast hovercraft, a helicopter, or even tanks! If you moved it tight on the Alexandrov, I think those reactors will shift it back as well. That would give our Marines a fast mobile platform for the extraction mission, and a few surprises inside in case we run into trouble. You can signal your arrival by radio and home in on us. We can meet you anywhere on the Caspian coast!”

“Amazing,” said Volsky. “You have the whole mission planned!” He sat with that for a moment, thinking, and realizing that as wild as the operation seemed, they had to try.

“Very well…It’s decided. You have your mission, Fedorov, but why not launch it from the Alexandrov? Why risk the long journey east from here?”

“It will take time to set things up in the Caspian, Admiral”

“Yes, perhaps several days, even a week.”

“But I can leave tonight from here. Yes, it makes for a long, hard journey in 1942, but if I don’t act immediately the situation could change here with these recent developments. A week from now who knows what we will be facing? We should act immediately, sir. This way I can verify the day of our arrival with a letter as planned. We know the approximate time we might displace to from the Engineering Center, but not so with the Alexandrov.”

“Suppose you appear in September of 1942 as with Markov, but the Alexandrov shifts to a different date, perhaps in 1943 or 1944? Or not at all?”

“These are the risks we will have to accept, Admiral. If the relief force shifts late, then we wait for you. If you never come…Well, I will write you a long letter about us.” Fedorov smiled, but it was clear that he knew all too well that this might be the last night he would ever see the world he had been born to, or at least the semblance of that world, changed as it was, a chameleon of time and fate.

“Very well,” said Volsky heavily. “Go to the test bed facility and call me on a secure line when you are ready. On my command have Dobrynin run the procedure. I will issue orders immediately and Dobrynin can then lead a team with one or two engineers and a Marine detachment from the ship. They’ll be on a plane for the Caspian region tonight. Admiral Kamilov is an old friend—he commands the Caspian Flotilla and I can arrange for everything Dobrynin will need when they get there. The remainder of the Ship’s marine detachment will go with him as well. The whole thing will be a top secret operation, and make that stick.”

“Thank you sir!”

“Don’t thank me yet, Fedorov. We may never see you again.”

“We’ll win through, sir. I can feel it.”

“I believe you…and may God go with you, but what if this mission fails, and you are trapped there in the past?”

“I’ve considered that, sir, and I have a solution.”

“What solution? What will you do?”

“We will have to end our lives…. It sounds terrible, but it would be the only way.”

Neither man said anything. Volsky rubbed his brow, then spoke softly, a sadness in his voice. “Orlov heard the siren’s song, and now we follow. We jump right overboard even though we see the bleached skulls on the shore. But the end of that song is too often death. Let us hope you and the others do not have to pay that price.”

He looked down to the harbor, saw the Admiral Lazarev again, breathing deeply. “This leaves the ship free to do what we must in the here and now.” He turned to face Karpov.

“As for you, Captain, you are going to lead the Red Banner Pacific Fleet out tonight. Weather conditions have been worsening and it looks like we will have a storm on our hands. It will keep prying eyes in space from following our deployment. I’ve recalled Admiral Golovko and Orlan, a couple of new ships to keep Kirov company. You’ll also have the cruiser Varyag, four Udaloy class destroyers and our best attack submarine in escort, the Kazan. The rest of our submarines have already deployed in a wide arc east of Japan.”

He reached for a map to show Karpov his plan. “We will use the storm front for cover. Your mission will be to rendezvous with the Admiral Kuznetsov, add those four ships to your flotilla, and then we thump our chest. There won’t be another surface action group within a thousand miles with the firepower you have at your disposal, and you’ll have carrier based air power and anything else we can give you from our airfields. You will be the most formidable force at sea, so while Fedorov is on his way to the history books, you will take Kirov and lead the fleet north of Hokkaido to the Kuriles. You are acting Task Group Commander. Understood?”

“Very well, sir.” Karpov sat taller, the pride in his eyes evident.

“You are to conduct operations intended to make a show of force, but not to provoke or engage our adversaries. If you find the flotilla under direct and immediate threat, then you will take appropriate offensive and defensive measures utilizing conventional weapons only. I repeat. No use of tactical nuclear weapons is authorized. You will have them, but you must not use them unless you receive a direct order to do so. Is that clear?”

“I understand, sir.”

“Other than that, you have complete discretion as to how to employ your force to achieve our ends. Deter the enemy, and if he will not be deterred, then oppose him, but realize every missile you fire may be the one that sets off this war in earnest. Then the ICBMs fly. Remember, Karpov, if a nuclear warhead is your only tactical option, then your battle has already been lost, and the fleet with it. I believe you, of all men now walking this earth, know the hard truth of that. In fact, you are the only man in this world now who has ever ordered the use of a nuclear weapon in anger. Let us hope that first time was the last.”

Karpov nodded, his eyes serious, realizing what the Admiral meant all too well. “Rely on me, sir. I will not let you down.”

“I will rely on you both, as I did before when I could not stand on these old legs and was stuck there with Zolkin in the sick bay. The world is on your shoulders now, gentlemen, not just the fate of the ship. God go with you both.”



* * *



That night Fedorov met with Sergeant Kandemir Troyak and two Marine volunteers, Corporals Bukin, and Zykov. The four men moved slowly down the long corridor in the Primorskiy Engineering Center, with Engineer Dobrynin following behind. When they reached the sealed test bed facility, Dobrynin indicated a spot across the room where four chairs waited in a zone he thought would be closer to the effect produced by the reactor.

“I still have no idea why this happens, Fedorov. Are you sure you want to try this again?”

“We’re determined, Dobrynin. Let’s get started. When we finish you will need all the time left to you to get Rod-25 back aboard Kirov.”

“Very well, I’ll initiate the procedure, and then move to the data center. I can use those panels to monitor the reaction, and I think they are far removed from any possible effects.” He turned and pointed above the door. “I had a technician place a camera there, and I’ll be watching you throughout the procedure. Those chairs are securely bolted to the floor, so you are the only free objects in the room—you and your equipment.”

Dobrynin shook their hands, and then the telecom panel on the wall sounded with a quiet tone. It was Admiral Volsky wishing them well, and thanking each man for their service.

“Don’t forget to retrieve my letter, sir,” said Fedorov. “It’s very important. I will note the time we arrive and the time you can hope to expect us at Vanino on the coast.”

“Are you sure it will remain undisturbed all those years?”

“I have every confidence in that, sir”

“Very well…Ride the Dragon’s back, Fedorov. We will do everything possible to come to your aid. You may begin, Chief Dobrynin.”

Dobrynin left to initiate the procedure, and then the wait began. The first hour seemed to pass with agonizing slowness. The implacable Kandemir Troyak seemed completely unbothered, quietly checking his equipment. He had spent many long hours waiting like this, in cold helicopters chopping through the black night for hours to a secret mission point. This was no different. The other two men were equally cool, checking arms, ammunition reserve, supply packs, comm-link system, and other things Fedorov had never seen.

For his part Fedorov had a small map tube and compass for navigation, along with other documents he had prepared. His pack carried high energy food sap pouches and other food stores. He went into town the day before and bought up any old rubles he could find released before 1942. They also had small ingots of gold and silver to give them a little more buying power. Their clothing was warm, packs remarkably light, as they had determined to live as much off the land itself as possible.

Another long hour passed, and Rod-25 was in retraction mode. Dobrynin’s voice reassured them that all was well, and then they heard it. A distant sound, undulating, shifting in tempo and pitch as Dobrynin’s voice faded into a garbled wash. The sound increased, seeming more urgent as the volume amplified. The siren song of time was calling to them, beckoning, tugging at their minds with an insistent quality that seemed almost seductive. The light in the room fluttered. The men stood and Fedorov looked down at the chairs, which seemed to suddenly fade in and out—there, not there, and then they were gone.

Dobrynin looked up at his monitor with a shocked expression. Where there had once been four chairs and four men quietly waiting on them in the room, there were now three empty chairs and one man standing by the fourth with an astonished look on his face!