Authors: John Schettler
Tags: #Science Fiction, #Military, #Space Fleet, #Time Travel, #Alternate History
“What day is it?” said Karpov.
“August 1st.”
“And the year?”
“The year sir? 1941. All is as expected. The meeting with Kirov is all arranged. Bogrov is maneuvering to the mooring tower near the Kremlin as we speak. Didn’t you see the city below as we approached?”
“I was… occupied.”
Tyrenkov looked at the Admiral, studying him very closely, noting the pallor of his face and cheeks, his disheveled hair, the lean, hungry look of the man.
“Are you alright, sir? You did not answer any calls these last two days, but, as you gave orders that you were not to be disturbed…”
“Correct,” said Karpov, not saying anything of what had happened, of how he had sat in terror at the edge of oblivion, staring into that mirror. He saw the shadow behind him grow and grow, and could feel its icy chill on his shoulders, but he was resolute. It would be his life or that of the other Karpov, or so he believed, and he was determined to prevail.
Now, as he realized he was still alive, exhausted as he was, a awareness of that finally dawned on him. He
had
prevailed. He had done exactly what he decided he would do, and stared Time and Fate right in the eyes as he looked at his own haunting image in that mirror. And Time had blinked; Fate had shirked away, and what remained was Vladimir Karpov.
“You do not look well, sir,” said Tyrenkov.
“Too much work, that is all. It’s nothing that a good meal and a stiff drink will not cure. In that instance, pour yourself a drink, Tyrenkov. I want to discuss something with you before the meeting.”
“Very well, sir. Thank you.” Tyrenkov naturally filled the empty glass, and then was about to lift it to a toast when he realized his glass held more liquor than Karpov’s. So he tipped the bottle to fill the Admiral’s glass, and was careful to see it held just a little more than his own.
“To our meeting, sir. To your health. To victory!” he said, clinking his glass against Karpov’s. “Nostrovia!”
“As to the meeting,” said Karpov, “I have little doubt that I will get all we need, and all we have planned now that the Germans have crossed the border. What is happening on the front?”
“The enemy has made remarkable progress, sir. They have not crossed the Divina, but are making a thrust towards Smolensk. Both Minsk and Kiev have fallen, and Kirov has had to abandon the whole line of the Dnieper and has fallen back to the Donets River. The Germans are outside Kharkov, and there has been a mad rush to get reinforcements there. Unfortunately, many of those divisions were pulled from the reserves set aside for our Volga offensive against Orenburg, which may have to be postponed. Our guards divisions obtained the bridgeheads as you ordered, but the Soviets are not prepared to launch a general offensive there now.”
“I will discuss this with Sergei Kirov shortly,” said Karpov.
“There is more, sir. The Germans have taken the Perekop Isthmus, and it looks like they are planning a general offensive against the Crimea. At the same time, they are pushing east from the Dnieper, and a big offensive is being aimed at Rostov.”
“As we expected,” said Karpov. “Does it look like the Soviets can stop them?”
“That remains to be seen, sir. They have already withdrawn numerous armored brigades that were sent into the Kuban for the drive on Maykop. Two rifle divisions were also pulled off the line there, but Volkov is up to his old tricks again. He moved his 1st Kazakh Army to the south Volga Front, relieving his 5th Regular Army so it could build up and concentrate for an offensive.”
“Of course,” said Karpov. “It’s the least he can do, to keep pressure on from the south.”
“The Soviets are being very stubborn. They fight for every village and hamlet now.”
“As they should,” said Karpov.
“Yet nearly a third of the nation has been overrun!” said Tyrenkov. “Hitler has made a declaration annexing all of Ukraine west of the Dnieper as a permanent German province.”
“That may look like a fact on the ground to you now, Tyrenkov, but believe me, it is just talk. Things will change come winter. You will see. Believe it or not, the Soviets are doing quite well. In the history I know, the Germans did not even begin their offensive until June 22nd, and the first battle of Smolensk began around July 10th! Their initial offensive was a spectacular success, but here, Sergei Kirov has avoided many of the terrible cauldron battles where the Soviets lost hundreds of thousands of men, and instead he has conducted a deliberate, and very skillful withdrawal. Yes, the German war machine is at the height of its power now, and it will be difficult to stop, but I am telling you that their offensive is already well behind schedule.”
“The Soviets have had to transfer most of the armies in their strategic reserve to hold the line,” said Tyrenkov.
“Don’t worry, they will raise more. Now then… There is another matter I wish to discuss, and it concerns that Russian ship operating in the Atlantic. Is it still mising?”
“The missile cruiser? Yes sir. It transited the Straits of Gibraltar in May, and there was that big engagement I reported on.”
“The Germans are still in their French ports?”
“Yes sir, and the British fleet has consolidated in the Azores, with a strong patrol also in the Celtic Sea.”
“Then nothing more was seen or heard of the Russian ship?”
“Not as yet, sir. The speculation is that it may have been sunk.”
At this, Karpov laughed. “No, Tyrenkov. It was not sunk, of this I can assure you.” He gave his intelligence chief a searching look, thinking. “I want you to focus your signals intercept teams on the Norwegian Sea.”
“Sir? There isn’t much happening there. We believe the British are preparing to mount a convoy operation to Murmansk. The code word
Dervish
has been picked up, and we think it pertains to this operation.”
“Correct,” said Karpov. “That was the first convoy to Murmansk, and not the last. But look for that Russian battlecruiser, Tyrenkov. Look for it in the Norwegian Sea, and I want to hear about it the instant you have any further information, even if I am cheek to cheek with Sergei Kirov when the news comes in. Understand?”
“Very good, sir. I assume you have plans concerning this ship?”
“My ship, Tyrenkov. Yes, I have plans concerning
my
ship. I am its rightful Captain. Don’t forget that. But I want to know if you find it there, in the Norwegian Sea, and I want to know immediately. Focus your attention on Jan Mayen. Can’t we get a fishing trawler out there with signals intercept equipment?”
“I have some good men in Norway, sir.”
“Well get them busy. Focus on the region near that island, the Denmark Strait as well. Oh… one more thing… Have you any information on a possible meeting between Churchill and Roosevelt?”
Tyrenkov looked surprised. “Nothing has come up concerning that,” he said.
“Be wary. Keep your ear to the ground. What are the Americans doing now?”
“Not much, sir. They are rattling their sword in the Pacific, by way of a warning to Japan. In the Atlantic they have relieved the British on Iceland, and sparred with a few German U-boats. They made certain declarations there concerning a 100 mile wide naval exclusion zone.”
Karpov smiled. “Yes,” he said, “I sailed right down the middle of it, and raised hell the whole way.”
“Sir?”
“Never mind, Tyrenkov. Don’t forget about that meeting with Churchill and Roosevelt. See if you can get some men over to Nova Scotia and Newfoundland… Have a look at Argentia… Placentia Bay. Snoop around. The Americans will be setting up bases there soon. And see if you can ascertain the whereabouts of one of the British battleships, the Prince. Yes, the
Prince of Wales
. I want to know of its movements, but first and foremost, I want you to find me that Russian battlecruiser. Put everything you have on that.”
“You can rely on me, sir.”
Chapter 36
Tovey
stared at the radio, realizing the situation was very grave. He had never met the man he would be speaking to, the Russian officer that had been involved in a mutiny, and the man who was most likely responsible for those reports he read in the file boxes Turing had found.
It was this man, he thought. He was the reason this ship put fear into our souls, for with men like Volsky and Fedorov at the helm,
Kirov
became a bulwark for the defense of the realm. Then it really wasn’t the ship I supposedly set a watch on, establishing that secret group within the Royal Navy, it was this man. He put the darkness in the shadow this ship became for us, and the fear. Karpov… And here he is again, like some rough beast, his hour come round at last. Yeats was in his mind as he thought this, a poem called
The Second Coming.
Here he is, unknowing, still thinking he is sailing in his own time, unaware of what has happened to him and his ship. The danger here is measureless. This man could undo all the careful planning and cooperation I’ve worked to achieve with the Russians. He could become the deadly foil that ship was when we first encountered it, events I stand at the edge of this very moment, yet things I can literally read my own hand on, as I documented the whole affair once before!
What to do here? The key thing now is to diffuse any potential conflict in the immediate local area of this ship. I must get a message off to Wake-Walker, and tell him to hold the
Dervish
convoy at Iceland. He’ll need to pull in his cruiser screens, and I’ll also have to get hold of Vian and rein him in as well. He’s up there with Force K off the Norwegian coast. Yet how to speak with this man, here and now. He’s standing by, and every moment of delay attenuates the thin rope we may now be dangling from.
Think Tovey, he chided himself. What would they be doing now on that ship? I’m told there was some sort of accident. That was what sent them here in the first instance. So they will be somewhat disoriented, perhaps investigating what may have happened, and each and every bit of evidence they uncover will seem an impossibility. It’s likely that this is what created the tension and conflict on that ship, and led to this attempted mutiny. So I must do everything possible to tamp things down here…
Tovey narrowed his eyes, and then made his call.
“HMS
Invincible
to BCG
Kirov
, this is Admiral Tovey. Come back.”
“BCG Kirov reading you loud and clear. We Copy, HMS Invincible. Over.”
“
Invincible
here. This message is for the Captain. It appears we have a situation on our hands here, and I am presently giving orders that all Royal Navy ships in your vicinity should immediately withdraw. Should you require any assistance, we will, of course, be happy to lend a hand. Otherwise, in the interest of peace, orders will be transmitted immediately to any British ship in the Norwegian Sea to withdraw to friendly ports. We wish no hostilities. Over.”
There was a good long wait before a message came back.
“We copy your message, HMS Invincible. All Royal Navy ships will withdraw to friendly ports. No assistance required, and no interference with the investigation we are presently conducting will be tolerated. Do you copy? Over.”
“Message received. No interference contemplated. We will stand by on this channel should you wish any further communication. HMS
Invincible
, over and out.”
The Admiral turned to the others, a concerned look on his face. “Well, he said. It appears we’ve just struck our first bargain with the devil. He may be exactly that, this Captain Karpov, or he may be something more, a guardian angel, as this ship was for us in our hour of greatest need. I suppose only time will tell which it will be. If they keep to their maintenance schedule, then the ship may only be here ten more days. Yet, in that time, it managed to sink and damage many ships, kill thousands of men, and loosed a terrible weapon on the world that ended up doing only one good thing—it brought the Americans into this mess, once and for all. That was in my reports as well, though I realize we have no way of knowing if that will ever occur. I suppose it all rests with what is happening on that ship. This time it isn’t armies and fleets that will decide things, but the delicate tension strung out between the senior officers on that ship.”
“What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on that wall,” said Professor Dorland. “Someone on that ship has survived this shift with their memory intact. Either that, or they are experiencing intense déjà vu, but the result is the same. They knew your secret communications channel, and that means they retained memories of their experiences, at least insofar as that meeting in Alexandria you mentioned. Admiral Tovey, do you have any idea who that person could be?”
“The list is very short,” said Tovey. “Only three men attended that meeting. The ship’s commanding officer, Admiral Volsky, then Captain Fedorov, and the young Lieutenant they were using as a translator. Oh yes… there was one other man, a civilian. I believe his name was Kamenski. Yes, Director Kamenski. He told us quite a tale when we were easing Admiral Cunningham over the line in all this business.”
“Admiral Cunningham?” said Paul.
“Well, he had to be informed,” said Tovey. “He was commander of the Mediterranean Fleet, and that Russian battlecruiser sailed right up through the Suez Canal and onto his watch, so there had to be some explanation.”
Paul looked a bit distressed. “Then he knows that
Kirov
was from… the future?”
“As amazing as that still sounds, yes. But he’s a most capable and reliable man. In fact, as I’m apparently fated to establish this group called the Watch, I’ll make him one of my first recruits.”
“Who else has been told what was really happening?”
“A few more good men. Wavell is in the know, as is General O’Connor. This Mister Fedorov from the Russian ship found it necessary to bring both men over the line when Brigadier Kinlan’s troops suddenly appeared in the desert.”
Paul rubbed his forehead, remembering Maeve’s anguish that the situation was so badly fractured now that it might never be put back together in any way that might resemble the history they knew. An entire modern armored brigade, complete with all that technology and weaponry… It was unimaginable. The implications were staggering.