Kirov (59 page)

“Mister
Tasarov,” he said. “Do you have sonar readings on the surface action groups we
were tracking?”

“No
sir. The passive systems were all fouled up when our warhead detonated, but I
can’t even read that disturbance any longer. I think we are too far off for
active sonar to re-acquire, but we could try that, sir.”

“No,
I don’t think that will be necessary,” said the Admiral. “Something tells me
those ships and planes are not there any longer. But then again, perhaps they
are… They seem to have vanished, but I think that is what they will say of us
in time.”

Fedorov
nodded his head, understanding what the Admiral was hinting at. “Well, sir,” he
said. “We’re alive and well. The ship is sound, and in time we’ll discover what
has happened, just as before.”

“Quite
right, Number One,” said Volsky. “In time. We are obviously here, somewhere,
and in spite of the color this still looks to be the Atlantic ocean. We have
the who, what and where of things firmly in hand. The only question now is
when
.”

“Yes,
sir,” said Fedorov, “and why.”

Epilogue

Consequences

 “Man is a mystery. It needs to be
unraveled, and if you spend your whole life unraveling it, don't say that
you've wasted time. I am studying that mystery because I want to be a human
being.”

—Fyodor Dostoevsky

Epilogue

By
the time
Home
Fleet reached the scene it was well past too late to save anyone in the sea.
Admiral Tovey was out on the watch deck off the starboard rear of the flag
bridge with his Chief of Staff, Daddy Brind, staring at the remnant of the
great spray dome of vapor and mist that was slowly dissipating in the distance.
He squinted through his field glasses, his face tired, eyes beset with an
expression of pain and bewilderment. The grey swells of the ocean had settled,
and they could still vaguely make out a gleam of wan light on the capsized hulk
of the American battleship
Mississippi
, like a great behemoth that had
been harpooned and now lay swamped in the misty grey seas.

The
waters around them were awash with debris, the flotsam of Task Force 16, which
had been crushed by a single massive explosion that the British had seen from
nearly fifty nautical miles away. When
King George V
approached the
scene, Tovey would never forget the angry steaming column he saw, as cool air
and seawater were drawn upward over five thousand feet into a mushrooming
cloud. What they saw now was mostly the dissipating plume of water vapor, and
the silent grey rain of condensation falling at the edges of the detonation
site like a shroud of doom.

“What
was it, Brind? What could do this?”

The
grey haired Chief of Staff was mute, his eyes glazed with shock and a strange
tinge of sadness. He had no answer for the Admiral, and the two men just stared
in silence. They had not felt such despair since the news of
Hood’s
demise had come to them, just a few short months ago. Then over a thousand men
had gone into the angry sea, but this was far worse.

A
white fog seemed to be settling over the scene, as they watched the fast
cruisers of the American Task Force 19 arriving to join a group of destroyers
searching for survivors. They had pulled 212 men out of the sea, but not a
single man they found alive would live two weeks, so close were they to the
rain of radioactive seawater that showered down on them after the passing of
the enormous blast wave and base surge from the detonation. It rained for an
hour after the blast, a deadly man made storm that continued killing the
survivors days and weeks after.

Tovey
saw a yellow lantern flash from his forecastle as
King George V
signaled
to the distant American cruisers. She was ready and able to render any and all
assistance, but flutter of the lamps winking back carried a stark, brief
message that lay heavily on them both—
no further survivors.
The cruisers
were passing north, slowly making speed as they set out to look for the enemy
ship that had wreaked this havoc. As they turned one last message winked back
at Tovey’s bruised battleships.
Advise dispersal.

The
Admiral looked at Brind. “I can’t imagine the weapon that did this Brind, nor
can I believe the Germans could possibly have more than one aboard that demon
ship, whatever it was. The Americans may have given us good advice, but I think
I’ll keep Home Fleet just as it is for the moment.”

“Very
well, sir,” said Brind.

“Signal
the Yanks good luck,” Tovey looked at him, an ashen expression on his face.
“And good hunting.”

“Word
is the German ship has vanished, sir. American PBY’s out of Argentia Bay have
been scouring the seas north of our position for some hours now.
Ark Royal
has had planes up as well. They reported some odd sea effects for a time, but
no sign of this German raider, sir. No word from the American destroyer group
that managed to get in close on the monster either.”

“Damndest
thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Tovey lowered his field glasses. “Well then…
We’ve orders to turn about and rejoin the Prime Minister,” he said sullenly.
“And God help us the rest of the way on in this damn war, Brind. If the Germans
have any more of these weapons….”

“God
help us all, sir.”

~
~ ~

HMS
Devonshire
sailed smoothly into Argentia Bay heading for the anchorage where the old
battleship
Arkansas
rode quietly in the waning light. The ship executed
a smart turn, then slowed to a gentle glide as she came along side the American
ship.

Prime
Minister Churchill was out on the main deck, his face set hard, yet a
smoldering determination in his eyes. Admiral Pound was at his right hand, and
when they saw the array of officers and staff on the deck of the
Arkansas
,
and heard the band there strike up “God Save The Queen” he allowed himself the
hint of a smile.

Churchill
could see the tall, stiff figure of President Roosevelt standing in greeting,
and he noted the sallow cheeks, deep set eyes and furrowed brow of the man, and
how he leaned slightly on the arm of another young officer, which he took to be
the President’s son. I’ll be leaning on your arm soon enough, he thought. We’re
in this together now. I can’t do it without you.

The
ships came abeam of one another, and pipes wailed over the sound of the band as
able seamen ran to secure lines and tie them off. Soon a gangway was laid
across from
Arkansas
to the smaller cruiser, and Churchill wasted no
time making his way quickly to the side railing where he was piped aboard with
a finishing flourish from the band. He saluted the American flag as he came
aboard, smiling, then walked steadfastly on to greet the American President,
taking his hand in a firm handshake, his eyes alight, yet his face set with an
expression of deep concern and respect.

“Mister
President,” he said. “My deepest condolences on the losses you have so
grievously suffered at the hands of our enemy.”

“Thank
you Mister Prime Minister,” said Roosevelt. “It seems we have a great deal to
talk about, and I am honored to finally make your acquaintance.”

“The
honor is mine, sir, and I can only regret that your nation has made the
acquaintance of Hitler’s war machine in such a startling and unexpected
manner.”

The
cameras whirled, light bulbs flashing and recording images that would stand as
the symbol of an new alliance in arms between Britain and the United States.
The two men stood side by side as the anthems of both nations were smartly
played by the band, then, one by one the senior British officers followed Sir
Dudley Pound and crossed the gangway to greet the President and their American
counterparts all lined up in dress uniforms, their dour faces warming to meet
these new found allies. Even Admiral King, long suspicious and resentful of
British influence in the Atlantic, allowed himself a grudging smile.

“I’m
afraid Herr Hitler has kept us all in the dark for a good long time,” said
Roosevelt.

“Indeed,”
said Churchill. “When I first heard that the Germans had attacked your carrier
Wasp
I was of mixed mind, Mister President. On the one hand I was wrenched by the
loss of life, and reviled by the ignominious nature of the enemy, striking at a
neutral power as they did. Yet, on the other hand, I felt this would clearly
demonstrate the nature of the foe, and make my appeal to you for active support
in this war more likely to be heard and embraced. I was elated to think England
might now survive this conflict, and indeed prevail with the United States at
her side. Yet, after what we have now seen and learned, this terrible new
weapon, I come to believe that it will take the whole blood, bone and sinew of
both our nations to survive as free peoples. We must stand shoulder to
shoulder, for we will most certainly face perdition if we fail.”

“Well
said, Winston, if I may, sir.”

“If
you please,” said Churchill with a smile.

“They’ve
drawn up a few chairs here for us to sit before the cameras, and more likely so
I can get off of these lead feet. I suppose we had best sit a while and indulge
them. After that, I think we have very much to discuss. Will you graciously
join me below decks here aboard the
Arkansas?
They tell me this is a
sturdy ship, and a safer place than any billet ashore.”

“It
would be my pleasure, Mister President,” said Churchill.

“Well,
if I’m getting away with Winston, you had better call me Franklin. I suppose I
could make it Sir Winston to satisfy protocol, but I’m not sure what you could
tack on to my name in return.”

“Let
me start with my good friend Franklin,” said Churchill, “and let us hope it is
a long and fruitful friendship indeed.”

The
band concluded, the cameras winked and the two great men smiled dutifully, then
were solemnly escorted below decks while the band played on. Soon the they were
comfortably below, exchanging gifts, a fine crafted pen for Roosevelt with a
wish that it be used to mandate a new alliance and common purpose between the
two nations. From Roosevelt came a box of the finest Cuban cigars for the Prime
Minister. “I hope you’ll enjoy these, Winston,” he said, “because I think we’ll
be making quite a bit of smoke together now.”

~
~ ~

Nothing
more
was ever
seen or heard of this dread German raider, nor was there any further deployment
of the fearsome new weapons she had savaged the Allied navies with that fateful
week in August of 1941. No ship of Kauffman’s
Desron 7
came home, so
Roosevelt put it out that the brave destroyers died to a man, but took the
German ship down with them, and that was what the country decided to believe.
David and Goliath was an old and comforting story.

Some
in the Admiralty had grave doubts about the report. After the successful
conclusion of the Atlantic Charter the British were particularly watchful, and
the boys at Bletchley Park scrutinized any movement of suspected German
replenishment ships. The obvious reasoning was that if the German raider had
somehow escaped and was at large in the Atlantic, it would soon have to
rendezvous for supplies. When an odd report crossed the wire later that month
the alert went out to American and British Forces in the area.

 Investigating
a suspected meeting point hinted at by Ultra intercepts, the Canadian auxiliary
cruiser
Prince David
out of Halifax sighted an unknown vessel, which it
reported as a
Hipper
class cruiser. The British Battleship
Rodney
was immediately alerted, and joined with the American carrier Task Group 2.6 to
hunt for the ship. Planes off the carrier
Yorktown
soon reported several
merchant ships in the search zone, and then suddenly confirmed the sighting of
a warship described again as a “possible
Hipper
class cruiser.”

A
second US Task Group quickly formed around the carrier
Long Island
to
expand the search zone. The British dispatched Force F with the carrier
Eagle
and the cruisers
Dorsetshire
and
Newcastle
, and pulled the
battleship
Revenge
off of convoy duty, with three more fast cruisers. In
all, the combined Anglo-US forces amounted to three carriers two battleships,
twelve cruisers and twenty destroyers. But the suspected ship seemed to simply
vanish again, and the Admiralty received good aerial photos of Brest to assure
themselves that
Scharnhorst
,
Gneisenau
and
Prince Eugen
were all still quietly sleeping in their berths. Days later, however, a US
coast Guard cutter,
Alexander Hamilton,
again raised the alarm with a
report of a
Hipper
class cruiser near Newfoundland.

Thinking
the Germans might be trying to sneak back to home ports, the US quickly
dispatched a new Task Group from Reykjavík built around the battleship
New
Mexico
to block the Denmark Strait. Yet nothing was found, and the watch
slowly faded away.