Kirov Saga: Devil's Garden (Kirov Series) (28 page)

“Just like Saito,” said Togo. “He uses five words when one will
do, and puts legs on a snake. Well…Before we can assure him that this will be
settled quietly, we must first know what we are dealing with. Tonight I must
leave Maizuru for Kure and the main fleet. I do not anticipate we will need
more than your division here, Kamimura, but we will be ready should you need
us.”

“I’m sure we can handle a single Russian ship, sir.”

There it was again, that strange feeling of presentiment, a swell
of unaccountable anxiety emerging from within. Togo was standing, staring out
the window at the growing columns of smoke as the ships in the harbor fired
their coal burning stoves and boilers. He turned to Kamimura, a distant look in
his eye.

“Take your squadron as far north as Wajima on the Noto Peninsula,”
he said quietly. “See what you find there.”

“What if we find this ship, sir?”

“Get in close. Have a good long look. See what they have to say.”

“And if they fire on us or try to escape?”

“Your cruisers will easily outrun a Russian battleship, if that is
what this truly is. Besides, I believe the sight of your battle line will
chasten this ship.”

“They won’t like the fact that we have
Tango
and
Mishima
along. It may enflame the situation. Perhaps we should leave them here.
They will only slow us down.”

“No. The battleships will sail with you. You may lead with your
cruisers, and break off into a separate squadron if the action requires it. I
leave this to your judgment. Certainly the sight of their old battleships now
flying the standard of the Imperial Japanese Navy will gall them. That is my
intention. If they say anything about it with their guns you can tell them they
can either surrender their ship as well, or there will be one less Russian
battleship at sea. But do not fire first. If hostilities break out it must not
be said that Japan has struck the first blow.”

“Wasn’t
Tatsu Maru
enough, sir?”

You may ask them about that. See what they respond, and keep me
informed. I should reach Kure about the time you get up north.”

“Very good, sir.” Kamimura saluted, ready to go to his flagship,
the armored cruiser
Izumo
.

“One thing more,” said Togo.

“Sir?”

“Be careful, Kamimura…Be careful.”

*
* *

“Con.
Radar. Surface contact bearing 195 degrees from the southwest.
Speed 18 knots. I read eight separate returns.”

“Eight contacts?” Rodenko wanted to see the returns on the screen.
Sure enough, there was an obvious battle line of eight surface ships cruising
in formation, strung out like pearls on a string.” He walked to the forward
view screen, looking at the horizon and seeing a distant smudge of charcoal in
the sky.

“Activate Tin Man opticals.”

“Aye sir,” said Nikolin. “Feeding the image to the overhead
display, sir.”

The high-res video feed was somewhat hazy given the distance, but
Rodenko saw enough to be concerned. These were not commercial ships, nor were
they tiny patrol boats like those that had approached the ship earlier in the
Tsugaru Straits.
Kirov
had turned south, and skirted north of the long Noto
peninsula that protruded from the mainland like a bent finger, pointing at the
island of Sado off Japan’s northwest coast.

It was mid-day and the ship was sailing under clear skies and
bright sun five miles off the relatively deserted cape of Onaga-saki. A high
hill rose to a height of 285 meters there, right on the bent knuckle of the
finger of the peninsula. The Tin Man opticals were good enough that they could
clearly see the two sizable guns mounted in a round turret on the forward deck
of the lead ship. Behind this was the bridge and conning section, with three
stacks amidships and two tall masts that looked like those one might see on a
sailing ship of old. Rodenko had no doubt that there were men high up in the
crow’s nests of those masts, scanning the seas ahead. If they had not already
spotted
Kirov
, they soon would.

“Range, Mister Yeremenko. Always include range in your contact
reports.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I read contact range at 48,520 meters and closing
at 70kph factoring in our present speed of 20 knots.”

Now Rodenko wished he had Fedorov at hand to tell him what these
ships were. They were not as formidable as the warships they had faced in WWII,
but yet those guns looked threatening and he wasn’t sure of their range. He
decided to turn out to sea and watch how the oncoming ships reacted.

“Helm, come right ten degrees and steady on 220.”

“Sir, my rudder is right and coming to 220, aye.”

He thought for some time before he gave his next order, as he was
certain that it would immediately bring the Captain to the bridge.
Kirov
had the speed to avoid a conflict here, and Rodenko had that uppermost in mind
as he walked to the navigation plot with a question.

“Mister Kalinichev, if I come to 230 and increase to 30 knots can
that contact still intercept?”

“Kalinichev made some quick calculations, using a light pen on the
Plexi screen to denote the new heading. The computer quickly put up a
predictive plot.

“Sir, the computer indicates possible interception here, but the
contact would have to increase to twenty knots.”

“What do we have to steer to avoid them?”

“We would have to come another fifteen or twenty points to
starboard beyond 230, sir. If we steer anything under 250 they will come within
5000 meters. At 255 the best they can do is 10,000 meters. At 260 that range
increases to 15,000 meters, and so on.”

Rodenko considered that, knowing that each minute he hesitated
would bring the ships closer. The WWII ships they had faced earlier could
easily fire out to 15,000 meters. Would the guns on these ships have the same
range? The Captain had been studying Fedorov’s books, and now Rodenko realized
he should have prepared himself better as well. There was no excuse for not
knowing the capabilities of the enemy he might be facing here, yet it was
partly because he did not wish to immediately see these ships as foes that he
hesitated.

He had complained to the Captain that he heard the forward deck
gun firing with no call to action stations. In less than 30 minutes these ships
could possibly have the range to engage them. What should he do?

“The ship will come to level two alert,” he said quietly.

“Sir, sounding general quarters at level two.”

“Helm please come to course 270 due west. Increase to 30 knots.”

“Sir, ahead 30 and coming round to 270 west, aye.”

They could feel the powerful surge of
Kirov’s
engines as
the ship moved from its cruising speed of 20 knots to near full speed, and
began a wide turn to starboard. On this new heading Rodenko reckoned the
closest the enemy could come would be 25,000 meters. That was still within
range of the ship’s 152mm deck guns, but a long shot for the enemy, unless these
were battleships. Rodenko did not have much time to speculate. Karpov was on
the bridge five minutes later.

“What is the situation?” He was immediately at Rodenko’s side, and
received a full report. He looked at the radar returns, the navigation plot,
and then made a quick decision.

“What are we on this heading for, Rodenko? Our objective is south,
not west.”

“Sir, I moved to open sea to maintain the
range until we could ascertain the nature of the threat.” It was a more
military way of saying he was trying to avoid engagement, and luckily, Karpov
bought it.

“Very well…” The Captain was staring at the overhead Tin Man
display. “Fedorov would come in handy here,” he said. “But to my eye those do
not appear to be the pre-dreadnaught battleships of this era. They are most
likely armored cruisers.” He walked to the flag bridge and consulted the books
he had been studying there. “Yes…These would be carrying an 8 inch main gun.
Technically it could fire out to 18,000 meters, but real action ranges for
these ships would be closer to 8,000. Decent armor…twenty knots maximum speed.”

“Our present course and speed keeps the range at 25,000 meters in
fifteen minutes, sir,” said Rodenko. “After that we should easily shake them
off.”

“Well within range of our AK-152s. Very well, activate our forward
turret. 152mm battery, please.”

Samsonov was quick to oblige and reported guns ready. As before,
the Captain summoned Chekov to assist Nikolin and they began to send wireless
Morse. Karpov’s first message was blunt and to the point. He identified himself
as the battlecruiser
Kirov
of the Imperial Russian Navy, and ordered the
Japanese ships to stand down and return to port. The Japanese message was
equally blunt.

“Sir, they require us to reduce speed and prepare to be boarded
for inspection. They say they are hunting a ship responsible for the sinking of
the steamer
Tatsu Maru
.”

“Is that so? Well tell them we are the ship responsible, and as to
their request for us to reduce speed, it has been denied. They will break off
and return to port.”

Rodenko folded his arms, inwardly shaking his head. Things were
developing just as he expected. The Captain knew exactly how to aggravate his
foe and force an action here. He wanted to engage these ships, and this was no
more than a thin veneer of civility on the violence that would soon ensue.

“Sir,” he suggested. “They cannot catch us on this heading. We can
easily outrun them.”

“We are not here to run from these ships, Mister Rodenko. Helm,
come left fifteen degrees to 255 and steady at 30 knots.”

“Sir, coming left to 255 and steady on.”

“That is better. We turn to face our foe, Captain Lieutenant. We
do not run from the enemy. We are here to teach them to run from us, if they
can. Mister Chekov, tell them they have five minutes to reverse course or they
will be presumed hostile and fired upon.”

They waited briefly, but the only response they received was a
speed change from 18 to 20 knots and a slight course adjustment. Then a final
message came and Chekov translated. “You have failed to comply and we will
engage you.”

Karpov smiled. “Threatening us, are they? I suppose the range is a
bit far for them to see this ship is twice the length and displacement of the largest
battleship in their navy! No matter. What is the current range?”

“Sir, radar has the column at 32,900 meters and as we are now on
converging courses, the range is closing.”

“Samsonov. Let’s send them a more direct message. Target the lead
ship. Their commanding officers were fond of leading the charge in this era
from what I have read. We’ll make an example of his ship first.”

“Sir, I have radar lock on the lead ship in the formation.” Karpov
walked slowly to the Captain’s chair and did something he seldom ever did at
the edge of combat. He sat down. Nine times out of ten he would be at the view screen
with his field glasses. But now he sat, almost casually on the rotating chair, elbow
on the arm rest and hand stroking his chin.

“You may open fire with the forward battery. Three salvos,
please.”

Rodenko watched the computer controlled turret rotate smartly with
a low whir, the guns elevated at just the precise angle required to put rounds
on the target, which was now painted with powerful targeting radars. The sharp
report and swift recoil of the twin battery snapped the silence on the bridge
with three sharp cracks that sent six rounds at the enemy.

Minutes later two would strike the forward deck of
Izumo
,
penetrating the relatively thin 2.6 inch armor there and exploding below decks.
A single 12 pounder gun on the bow was put out of action, its crew killed
almost instantly. Two more riddled its big 8 inch turret, smashing the side
armor there, and the last two struck the conning tower, causing considerable
smoke and explosive shock, but failing to penetrate the thick 14 inch armor
protection. It was enough to jar the ship, as if Karpov had given the Japanese
a rude shove at the outset of an argument. Smoke from the fire caused by the
two rounds exploding below decks soon billowed up, adding to the dark stain in
the sky from the coal fired ships that were laboring to pursue them.

It had begun.

Day
9

“I felt
some wind;
Whence I said: "My Master, who sets this in motion?
Is not below here every vapour quenched?"
Whence he to me he replied: "Full soon shalt thou be where thine eye shall
answer make to thee of this,
Seeing the cause which raineth down the blast."

Dante Alighieri,
The Inferno - Canto XXXIII

Part IX

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