Show of Force (18 page)

Then began the story of his longest night, the discovery by a carrier aircraft, the American destroyers, the helicopters, the sonobuoys in the water, the grenades, the incessant pinging on the hull, and the pinwheel fence that was literally thrown around him. Then, there was the inadequate air supply, the leaking oil, the shaft with the hot bearing that was about to seize. And, worst of all, there had never been any instructions from Moscow. There were no effective communications systems to explain what was happening to them. They knew that something was up with the Americans, but they had no idea whether they would be sunk or not or even if they were to fight. And finally, the man read from the log about the hours of maneuvering in Kupinsky's attempt to escape, and, after closing all the logs, he related the conditions of the boat and the men when their brave captain finally had no choice but to surface.

They could not court-martial him. No Soviet submariner had ever undergone such an action before. Gorenko had built a new fleet after the Great Patriotic War, but they had yet to take those boats into battle. They decided that Lieutenant Kupinsky had responded admirably considering the limitations he was forced to work under. However, too many senior officers knew of the surfacing. It was one of many insults heaped on them over a ten-day period by the U.S. Navy, and some action had to be taken. They sent him inland, to a university for further education. x Alex had the opportunity, before the hearing, to spend some evenings with Gorenko, discussing the quarantine and exactly what had gone wrong, and the older man had listened. Gorenko had always publicly ridiculed the American aircraft carriers, but he knew the advantages they offered in antisubmarine warfare, and suspected that a future Russian blue-water navy would need them in some form. The other point of discussion was one that Alex had always felt strongly about, and now he could speak personally about the lack of an effective service force. “AH right!” Gorenko had offered. “I'll build the service force, after we have the missile submarines. You study your aircraft carriers and come back to me with an answer. But,” and he had leveled a finger at Alex, “don't bring me a big expensive American carrier.”

Life at the university, five years of it, had been difficult for Kupinsky. He had been brought up as a youth in a sailor's home, he had been educated as a sailor, and he had truly become a man of the sea. He was sent far from it. There was no choice but to immerse himself in study.

The most important gain of the homeland was his research. It was during this period that he accepted the challenge to develop the aircraft carrier—but not an American type. What evolved was a challenge to the American submarine fleet. While he had been humiliated by a particular destroyer, he had been found by a carrier-based aircraft. For a submarine, there is no knowledge . of an aircraft's proximity until it has you. It doesn't matter whether it is a fixed-wing type or a helicopter, because it does not come in contact with the water until it is reasonably sure a sub is there. And then there is no longer any element of surprise, which is the submarine's greatest advantage! Then there is only escape.

So his aircraft carrier became an antisubmarine force in its own right. It would carry many helos, which were easy to store, launch, and recover from any platform. But of even more importance was the VTOL aircraft. Intelligence provided the latest in research from the British, the leaders in the vertical takeoff and landing aircraft. With the information passed on to him via Gorenko's office, he was then able to plan a ship that was three hundred feet shorter than the American carriers, and half the tonnage. With the limited space required for flight operations, he was able to add the protective and offensive weapons that American carriers depended on their escorts for. The carrier would bristle with missile launchers to counter attacks from the air, surface, or subsurface, and it was especially built as a sub killer. The
Kiev-class
aircraft carrier became a reality on paper. The air-strike capability would come later, as long as the planes could be adapted to the available platform.

After returning to Moscow and presenting his detailed plans to Gorenko, he went on to Leningrad for leave, and that was where he met Tasha. In a renaissance city, one savors the culture, especially during the winter when everything is frozen. He first saw her in the Hermitage, leading a class of her students from room to room in the standard-issue Russian slippers. There was so much to see that she was barely giving them enough time to survey each painting before she hustled them to the next room.

She didn't look like a native to him, though she seemed to be quite comfortable in the Hermitage. She was slimmer than many of the Russian women and her clothes were more stylish. She wasn't dressed in the manner of the European or American tourists, but she carried herself in a special way, and her clothes had more color than one normally saw in Leningrad.

It was her face that had first caught his attention, her eyes. They were a lovely green, and he noted that they crinkled at the edges and seemed to smile by themselves when she was smiling at the children. When she began a lecture about a certain painting or an artist, her round face would become serious again. But she was still pretty to him, especially her eyes. When he decided to talk to her, he noticed she was speaking another language, but perhaps she was a guide.

His introduction to her failed miserably. “Your students won't be able to tell you tomorrow what they saw today at this speed. Perhaps I could assist you.” He smiled at her serious face. “I'd be happy to escort some of your children.”

She looked first at his uniform, then at his face. She did not smile, nor was there even a change in her expression. She shook her head, “You are the military. What do you know of art?” And she had turned her back, having barely broken the running lecture she was giving.

He saw her again that night when he went to the rooftop bar in the Leningrad Hotel. This time he was not wearing his uniform and she was not with her students. He carried his brandy over to her stool at the bar. “I'm sorry if I upset you today. I really do know my way around the Hermitage. I go there whenever I am in Leningrad.” Alex wanted to apologize before she could put him down again.

She turned in her chair, staring at him, not quite realizing that the short, quiet gentleman in the dark suit was the same officer that had interrupted her class. “I beg your pardon.”

“Today. You were in one of the seventeenth-century rooms with your students. You were moving and talking so fast, I didn't think they'd ever remember what you were saying.” She tilted her head, looking more closely at him. “I was wearing a naval officer's uniform. I don't believe you liked it.”

“Ah, yes. I remember now.” There was no smile on her face, nor even a sign of recognition that he had offered to help. “Why would a military man be in a place of culture?”

“As I've said, I go there whenever I am lucky enough to be in Leningrad. Doesn't everyone who conies here?” He smiled again at her, trying to make her believe he was harmless. “Haven't you ever seen military people there during your visits?”

“Perhaps they have appeared. I never look for them. I am always too busy with my students.” She began to turn to the bar.

“where do you and your students come from?”

“Nisula.” She looked over her partially turned shoulder at him. “Over the border. In Finland.”

“I see.” Silence. Finland. Many of the Finns hated the Russians for the centuries of invasion of their peaceful little country. On the border, he knew they were constantly harassed. “And has your family been there for a long time?”

“Yes. A few hundred years, I suppose. Whenever it was called Finland. When it wasn't, they were Russians.” She looked back at him again. “I really don't think we have anything more to talk about.” Her voice was quiet and soft, now that she was no longer lecturing students, and her accent was not as heavy as many of the Finns who spoke Russian only when it was required.

“I'm sorry,” he responded quietly. “I meant no offense. I am just here by myself, and I plan to spend another few days at the Hermitage before I return to my university.”

He was from a university, polite and quiet, and, she decided, even a bit shy. She turned around in her seat again and smiled for the first time. He extended his right hand and introduced himself, and he never had any doubts about his life after that. The Navy could do what they wanted to him, but he would be happy. And for Tasha's part, he erased the evil memories that had passed down through her family for a few hundred years. She found at least one Russian military man who was gentle and kind.

They were married in Leningrad late that May, when the snow was gone and the canals flowed once again. The wind from the Gulf of Finland filled the air with the warm smell of apple blossoms. They honeymooned in the city, taking day trips to the Summer Palace and Lake Ladoga and the seacoast, and even boated on the Neva with the tourists. Too soon it ended, and they were back at the university, more work already waiting for Alex from Gorenko. The plans for the carrier were acceptable. Now he was to design it piece by piece with the naval architects that were being sent to assist him.

It takes as long to design a new class of ship as it does to build it. His duties consisted not only of development of the carrier but of advising Gorenko in building his blue-water service force: tankers, ammunition ships, repair ships, and full-line replenishment ships. They must be capable of handling a variety of warships steaming together in a task force.

He was promoted in line with his peers, but he did not get back to sea. While the Commander in Chief of the Navy was literally his patron, there were enough senior Party members who had not forgotten the dark days of Cuba. Gorenko was not about to antagonize them further. Kupinsky traveled freely about the country, visiting shipyards and discussing his plans with both military and civilian builders. He was allowed to attend a variety of schools, including the staff and command schools that he had been scheduled to attend earlier in his career. He was also allowed a brief tour in the embassy in London, where he learned even more about aircraft carriers from the Americans.

Gorenko was ensuring that Alex would catch up with the officers in his own age group, yet satisfy his detractors at the same time. The Party sometimes worked in strange ways, and in that massive country one individual could not avoid the continual observation of his seniors. When the keel for
Kiev
was laid in 1971, Kupinsky's job was finished. Now the supervision would be turned over to the shipbuilders at Nikolayev, and he would only return irregularly to review progress, especially when alterations were introduced.

He was now able to convince Gorenko that he must go back to sea. But the major problem was that his seniority demanded an advanced position onboard, and he had been away from the water for almost eight years. In the Russian Navy, an officer spends a great deal of time, five years or more, aboard the same ship, learning his specialty. He may even assume a department , head's rank and then become an executive officer, if the captain and the political officer deem him fit. Unless he makes too many mistakes, he will often become commanding officer. It was therefore most difficult to find the right ship for Alex. His future was in the surface force now, and he was almost too senior for command of a destroyer. Gorenko again dipped into his purse of influence and found an executive officer of a guided-missile cruiser in disfavor with his political officer. Captain Second Rank Kupinsky became executive officer of the
Admiral Fokin,
a
Kynda-class
cruiser in the Red Banner Northern Fleet.

Alex was able to reverse the natural distrust of an outsider into respect in a short time. He approached his new job with the same determination that he had found to create the first carrier. He was not hurt by the fact that Gorenko had interceded for him. His knowledge of submarines and antisubmarine tactics were invaluable to the
Admiral Fokin,
more attuned to surface and air warfare but often finding itself involved in antisubmarine maneuvers. When the captain was transferred to a senior command, Alex became commanding officer and captain first rank. He would be ready for flag rank after this tour.

“Excuse me, Admiral.” Kupinsky's thoughts shifted quickly back to the signal bridge of
Lenin.
He straightened from the railing, turning quickly, and returned the salute of the young staff officer who had interrupted his dreams. “Sir, Captain Svedrov reports that our Rigas have inflicted heavy damage on surface units of the American forces. They left at least four ships, One of them a large cruiser, burning.”

“Were any of them sunk?”

“I do not believe so, sir, although a guided-missile destroyer was severely damaged.”

“And what of our own casualties?”

The young man hesitated. “The American missile system was very accurate, Admiral. Three of our Rigas escaped, only to be set upon by fighter aircraft.” His voice dropped almost to a whisper. “Only one is returning, sir.”

“I see.”

“Also, he wishes me to inform you that the American attack aircraft are only ten minutes away. We have sent our helicopters south to assist the destroyers with the approaching submarines. He respectfully asks if you will join him and the staff shortly.”

“Yes. Inform Mr. Svedrov I will be down in a few moments.” The young man saluted, then wheeled about to carry his message, even before Kupinsky had returned the salute. He hated the idea of going down into the dark flag plot where he could see nothing of the action taking place. It was simply moving dots on screens with no size or shape or animation. He would have much preferred to be on the signal bridge watching the effect of the various weapons. But he realized that most of the action would take place beyond his eyesight anyway, and they needed him to coordinate the action once they had initiated his battle plan.