B00DSDUWIQ EBOK (3 page)

“The
Japanese?” Halsey felt like a boxer kept constantly off balance by a good stiff
jab from his opponent. Each time he began to settle into some understanding of what
Fraser was telling him, the story leapt ahead in some startling new direction.

“The
Japanese. They ran across it very soon after it disappeared off St. Helena,” said
Fraser. “It happened during your Operation Watchtower.”

“That
was on my beat,” said Halsey. “I was in nominal command of that operation, but the
truth is I was down for the count with a skin ailment that put me in the hospital
for months. I didn’t get back in the saddle until October of…well that was
1942, Admiral. TF.16 was hit in late 1941 just before we got into this mess.”

“Quite
so,” said Fraser. “There was a considerable time lapse before we found this ship
again in the Med.”

“A
year? I find that hard to swallow. How could a ship with that kind of attitude remain
undetected for a whole goddamned year?”

“We
don’t know, but as we learned this Russian Admiral claimed he wanted nothing more
to do with our war, we concluded that the ship must have dropped anchor somewhere
in the South Atlantic or Indian Ocean, well away from sea lanes in some
isolated area. We’re not sure how it managed to slip into the Med undetected,
but we do get some very foggy nights off Gibraltar, and this vessel has seemed
a bit of a phantom at times. Well, to make matters short, it eventually turned
up on the coast of Australia and ran into the Japanese.”

Fraser
wasn’t telling Halsey the entire story now—that the ship was spotted off Australia
not two days after it vanished at St Helena, a journey of thousands of miles
that it could not possibly have sailed in that brief time. That had been the
one salient clue that had led Bletchley Park, and a very select group of men,
to some very startling conclusions about this ship and its true origins. That
information might extend the bounds of credulity just a wee bit too far in this
conversation, and he felt himself lucky enough to have dragged this bull out of
the pen and into the field with what he had already revealed.

Halsey
rolled his eyes, thinking. “Yes…we did hear that there was some kind of engagement
in the Coral Sea, right smack dab in the middle of our operations against
Guadalcanal. Yet I never got any report on the matter. None of our ships were
involved.”

“
Geronimo
was the culprit. It gave the Japanese hell this time. They paid a very high price
when they tangled with this ship. In fact, that may have worked to your favor.
It seems at least two Japanese fleet carriers were involved in action with this
ship, and therefore unable to reinforce the Japanese counterattack against your
Guadalcanal landings. It also left a Jap battleship stranded like a beached
whale on a coral reef, and after that it locked horns with Yamamoto himself on
the
Yamato
.”

“Yamato?
We didn’t even know the Japanese had that
ship until very late in the war!”

“Yes,
well British intelligence is very good, Admiral. We knew about it, but as it was
laid up for extensive repairs there was no need to pass that on until the ship
re-entered service.”

Halsey
took that in for a moment, the conclusion obvious from what Fraser had said. “This
ship—this
Geronimo
as you call it, it fought with
Yamato
and got
the better of it?”

“That’s
putting it mildly, Admiral Halsey. It beat the
Yamato
to a flaming wreck.
The Japs managed to get it back to the home islands and it was in dry dock for
two years before your Ziggy Sprague made the acquaintance again in that battle
off Samar. Does the word dangerous say enough about this ship now, or must I
look for another word?”

“A
Russian ship beat
Yamato…”
Halsey shook his head
.
“That’s hard to
believe.”

“I’ll
agree with that, but we have the intelligence. I can see that you receive a copy
of the file if you wish. The fact is, Admiral, this is no ordinary ship. As I
said earlier, it’s fast, it has advanced weaponry—naval rocketry in fact—and it
can strike from a great distance, even beyond the range of those big sixteen inch
guns out there. It looks like a battleship if you ever lay eyes on the damn thing,
as I did one black night. There wasn’t a gun on it bigger than a QF five
incher, but it could pound a ship like
Yamato
to near scrap. Needless to
say, this is an extraordinary vessel, and so are the men that built and crew
this ship.”

“There
are no extraordinary men,” said Halsey, “just extraordinary circumstances that ordinary
men are forced to deal with.”

“Well
I’m afraid that we have exactly that on our hands here—extraordinary circumstances—very
extraordinary. The only question now is how do a pair of ordinary blokes like
us deal with the matter?”

“We
deal with it the same way we dealt with the Japanese, Admiral. We put more steel
and fire in the sky and on the sea than the Russians could possibly imagine. I
don’t care how good this ship of theirs is, or even how they managed to build
it for that matter. Old Uncle Joe Stalin may have been holding some cards close
to his chest, or he may have even stacked the deck. None of that matters. No
matter how big and tough they build them, ships sink. You just ask the Japs
what they know about that. They floated a couple of real monsters in
Yamato
and
Musashi
, and we put both of them at the bottom of the sea. Now, I’ve
got Sprague’s TF.38.3 up there looking for this ship. In fact he’s probably got
planes in the air at this moment.”

“Planes
in the air?” Fraser had a worried look on his face now. “They’re going up after
Geronimo?
Admiral, you must recall them, at once!”

“Recall
them? What for? The Russians asked for it. Now they’ll take a few lumps and we’ll
finish all this hubbub over Hokkaido once and for all.”

“It’s
not the Russians I’m worried about, Admiral. It’s
your
planes. Get them out
of there—before it’s too late!”

Chapter 3

The
planes were forming up over Sprague’s fast
carrier group, mostly off
Ticonderoga
and
Wasp
. The “Big T” was sending
18
Hellcats
, 24
Helldivers,
and 12
Avengers
, 54 planes in
all, with 30 in reserve. These were joined by 15
Helldivers
and an equal
number of
Avengers
off CV
Wasp
from Air Group 86. They were
escorted by another 24
Corsairs,
the
F4U-4 model, to bring the
total formation to 108 planes. It was only about 40% of his total air wing, but
Sprague deemed this more than sufficient for a show of force, and the planes
were already on their way. If need be he could throw another 60 aircraft up off
Ticonderoga
and
Wasp
, and then he still held another 90 planes
split between the two smaller carriers in his group,
Bataan
and
Monterey
.
Both these ships were converted light cruisers that had become the
Independence
class carrier that played such a vital role alongside their bigger
Essex
class fast fleet carriers.

Chuck
Malkasian was on his way to his duty shift in the
Wasp’s
engine room that
morning as a water tender. He was passing a couple of seamen putting the final
touches on the carrier’s “scorecard” for its effort thus far in the war. It was
mounted on the forward bulkhead, of the hangar deck level, just behind the
forecastle, and laid out the tally. CV
Wasp
had destroyed 14 enemy planes
in the air with her own gunfire, and her air groups had taken down another 230.
They also caught 405 on the ground and put them out of action, a total of 649
planes.

“Let’s
hope they get one more,” said Malkasian. “650 is a nice round number.”

“Ain’t
nothin’ flying for the Japs these days,” said one man as he dabbed paint on a kill
flag symbol. “They get many more and we’ll have to find more space on this bulkhead.”
Beneath the air flag toll there were score marks for 114 ships sunk, and
another 234 ships damaged, a fairly impressive tally. The tonnage of bombs and
rockets dropped and fired was also compiled. It was ample evidence that the carrier
was the preeminent weapon of war in the world, a template that would hold true
for decades to come.

“You’re
going to have to repaint all those numbers if things get hot today, and save room
for more ships too,” said Malkasian. “Only paint the next three red. Scuttlebutt
says we’re going after the damn Russians now.”

“The
Russians? What are they getting into it for?”

“Beats
me, but our boys will finish the job.”

Seaman
James Long scratched his head. “I got room here for two more ships, and that’s it.
Someone tell the flyboys to lay off the Russkies and let Big T handle them. Then
they can spend another hour revising
their
scorecard.”

“Right,”
said Malkasian. Then he was off to the engine room, expecting another dull day at
sea keeping the big turbines cool.

Wasp
, (CV-18) was a short hulled
Essex
unlike
her companion
Ticonderoga
, the first of the long hulled carriers in that
class. The flight deck had been busy that morning as the planes were spotted
and launched, but the air crews were feeling light hearted. There had only been
fifty-four planes to arm and spot and the air crews were accustomed to running
out the whole ship’s compliment of nearly a hundred planes, so the work seemed
light that day.

Originally
slated to be named the
Oriskany,
the
Wasp
was, of course, renamed
in honor of the venerable CV-7, sunk just before the war in the Atlantic off Iceland.
There was another plaque near the scorecard on the bulkhead that read:
“Dedicated
to the men of CV-7, who never got their chance.”
The men of CV-18 were
going to get their chance today, and more than they imagined.

Gunner’s
Mate 3rd Class Alfred J. Lewis was also going to get his chance as he reported for
duty that morning. He was a “Plank Holder,” on the ship with an official certificate
to prove it, #408. He displayed it proudly above his bunk below decks where it
read: “To all sailors of the sea and aviators of the sky wherever ye may
be—Greetings! Know ye by these presents that: Alfred James Lewis, Gunner’s Mate
Third Class, was a member of the original crew which commissioned the USS
Wasp
and is therefore entitled to all the rights and privileges of a Plank Holder on
said ship, including a clear and unencumbered title to one plank in the flight
deck.” It was signed by C.A.F. “Ziggy” Sprague, right next to the buxom mermaid
in the corner and the two fish giving her ample chest a wide eyed appraisal.
Silhouettes of all three plane types adorned the certificate, and the image of
the
Wasp
herself was drawn at the top.

AJ,
as the rest of the crew called him, was also known as “Lucky Lewis” for his skill
at cards. He had already staked out his claim to a plank on the carrier’s flight
deck, a place he often liked to sit with his buddy “Ski” Kotoski, right up near
the bow. Now he was settling in behind a quad 40mm and looking into the clear
skies up ahead.

It
was finally over, he thought, or very nearly so. If it were really over then why
would he be sitting behind these four steel barrels? If it were really over he’s
be out on his plank on the bow taking in the sun and sea with Ski. The Emperor
had thrown in the towel and made his announcement, but there were many who
would refuse the order to surrender in Japan. At that very moment dissident Japanese
airmen were flying over Tokyo and dropping leaflets urging revolt and a
continuation of the war. Their actions prompted officers loyal to the Emperor to
order all Japanese warplanes disarmed and drained of their fuel, but some slipped
away, the last of the Kamikazes led by Admiral Ukagi.

“You
figure this thing is ever really going to end?” AJ asked his buddy.

“Everything
ends, Lucky,” said Ski. “Don’t worry. The day will come when you’ll miss your time
on this ship.”

“Well
I’m taking that plank with me when I go,” said Lewis.

“Who
says they’ll retire the ship as soon as we make port, AJ?”

“Well
if they don’t I’ll leave it here on lend-lease, but nobody scraps this baby without
checking with me first. I get my plank, one way or another.”

* * *

Karpov
was staring at the big Plexiglas display
illuminated in luminescent green, blue, and red to indicate the position of all
surface traffic in the vicinity.

“I
knew they would push things,” he said to Rodenko, his acting
Starpom
. “That’s
a sizable task group heading our way.”

“What’s
the plan, sir? Are you thinking to engage or avoid conflict here?”

Karpov
thought for a moment, then took a deep breath. “If we’re going to start changing
things it may as well begin here.”

“We
could just as easily sail due east if you need more time to consider the situation,
sir.”

“Yes,
we could sail east, but that won’t stop what you just reported Rodenko, will it?
Those are planes in the air, and heading our way. Every time I turn around someone
is flying an air strike my way. I just beat off the best the US had on CVN
Washington
.
Now these little men want to pick a bone with me. What does our SAM inventory
look like?”

“We
used half our S-400s and a good number of other missiles in that last defensive
action before the Demon blew its top. That leaves us with 100 medium range missiles
on the
Klinok
system, but only 32 long range S-400s. Close in
Kashtan
system fired 12 missiles, leaving us with 52 there. That means we have exactly 184
SAMs of all types for this ship.”

“Have
the other ships reported in?”

“Yes,
sir.
Orlan
was in the inner screen with S-400s as well. They fired only
16 missiles and have a substantial inventory remaining, 180 in all. These are
the 9M96E and E2 missiles, sir. They will only range out between 40 and 120 kilometers.
The long range S-400s are with us, the 40N6Es, but
Orlan’s
missiles are
lightning fast—Mach 15 and capable of thrust vectored high G maneuvers. The
damn things can pull 60 Gs at sea level and 20 Gs at 30,000 meters!”

“A
superb air defense ship,” said Karpov. “I want her station keeping on our bow at
all times.”

“One
more thing, sir. This is a hit to kill weapon system.
Orlan
is going to have
to put a missile on every plane they take down.”

“No
proximity fragmentation warheads?”

“Not
on this particular version, sir. We have them, but not
Orlan
. That said,
I’ll guarantee one thing—they’ll hit what they fire at.”

Karpov
thought about that, then decided he would also cover his undersea battle space.
“
Admiral Golovko
will be out on the starboard side as an ASW picket, and
I trust Tasarov has the horse tail sonar out behind us.”

“He
does, sir.”

“I’ll
want a KA-40 up as well.”

“It
will be ready in ten minutes, sir.”

“Good.
Golovko
, is not configured for air defense. They have
Kashtans
,
but I’ll use the frigate for some good SSM punch if we need it. That means
we’ll have to provide the air umbrella along with
Orlan
.”

“Feels
a little different this time, Captain, now that we’ve got company here.”

“It
does, but I have no idea how the officers and crew on the other two ships are responding
to this situation. We may have convinced the two Captains, but the rest of the
crew will have a lot to learn.”

“It
took us all a good long while to come to grips with this,” said Rodenko, “and for
the life of me none of us still really know why this is happening.”

“We
were in the wrong place at the right time,” said Karpov. “Or you can look at it
the other way around if you like to feel better about it. I say we were in exactly
the right place at a decisive time. Now we’ll see what we can do about the
situation.”

“Well
sir, with
Orlan
and our own inventory, we’ll have 364 SAMs. Throw in the
Kashtans
on
Golovko
and we’re looking at over 400 missiles in the
flotilla.”

“More
than sufficient,” Karpov nodded.

“For
the time being, sir,” said Rodenko, with just the slightest edge of a warning in
his voice. He remembered all too well those tense moments as the ship’s SAM inventory
dwindled away to nothing. “When we made port in Vladivostok there wasn’t a
single SAM left on board, and we had exactly eleven surface action missiles
left. We would not have had even those if not for the reloads we were carrying
for live fire exercises. Our missiles are the one great advantage we have now.”

“I’m
well aware of that,” Karpov said quickly. “So here we are back in the same old borscht.
I’ll have to conserve that missile inventory as much as possible, but realize
that the Americans will have something to say about it as well. If they get
pushy, we’ll have to respond.”

Rodenko
nodded. “We had the KA-226 up with good long range feeds earlier, Captain. There’s
a considerable naval presence in this region at the moment.”

“Yes…
I’ve been reading Fedorov’s book. Nikolin has also identified this force here from
radio traffic as the American TF.38.3. The history notes it is commanded by an
Admiral Sprague.”

“I’m
reading at least six large capital ships in the core, sir, and then two large groups
in the outer screen—looks like a great many destroyers and light cruisers.”

“I
can name them all for you, if that book holds true.”

“And
they have planes in the air now, Captain. We have about twenty minutes to make a
decision here. The Fregat is indicating over a 100 aircraft.”

“The
Japanese hit us with that many planes on two occasions.”

“And
those attacks drained a considerable percentage of our SAMs, sir. Even so, we took
a near fatal hit. If that plane had struck us anywhere other than the aft citadel,
things could have been very bad.”

Karpov
recalled those attacks, the Japanese screaming in on the ship from all compass headings,
missiles firing in selected barrages, the Gatling guns burning down the rest.
But they had to be 100% accurate. They had to get them all. If even one got
through to deliver its bomb or torpedo…

“I
intend to warn those planes off,” he said. “They’ll probably pay no attention, but
it’s worth a try. I owe Fedorov at least that much.”

“I
understand, sir. But if we had not engaged that smaller American scouting force
earlier…”

“What’s
done is done, Rodenko.” The Captain walked briskly over to the communications station
where Nikolin was monitoring radio traffic.

“They’re
very chatty,” he said. “Everyone has two names.”

“Nicknames,
Mister Nikolin. The Americans love them.”

“Yes,
sir. I believe one of the flight leaders is called “Iron Mike.”