Kirov (12 page)

“I'm
broadcasting across the entire band,” said Nikolin. “They heard us alright,
unless they are also suffering the effects of that explosion.”

“It
did take us several hours before systems returned to normal,” said Orlov.

“I
disagree,” said Karpov, his lips tight with obvious frustration. “Their silence
is just another way to goad us, keep us in the dark.” Once you have told your
lie, Karpov knew, silence was then your best friend. “I recommend stronger
action, Admiral. We should engage missile radars and then see if they are
willing to comply with international law and identify themselves.”

Admiral
Volsky’s features were grave and drawn. He seemed very weary, his eyes closing
for a time as he considered what his volatile captain was suggesting. To paint
the contact with active targeting radars would certainly escalate the
situation, yet if he did so they may have to reply in kind. That, at least, would
give them verifiable ESM signatures on those ships, and they would learn, once
and for all, whether this video feed was valid or some product of NATO
engineering and counterintelligence operations.

Against
his better instincts, he had already broken radio silence himself, clearly
revealing his position. If he escalated it was likely his ship would soon be
lit up with active radars as well. If something had slipped…If this
was
a war situation, then he could be making a grave mistake by being so accommodating
to the enemy. With political tensions winding ever tighter, discretion was wise
here. He clasped his hands behind his back, rocking his heavy frame back and
forth, shifting his weight as he considered, then stilled himself, turning to
Samsonov.

“Come
to condition one readiness on the number three forward missile array and activate
targeting radars for that system.” He was ordering his CIC Chief to activate
his P-900 cruise missiles, an array of ten subsonic sea-skimmers on the forward
most section of the ship, very near the bow. In effect, he would be calling the
enemies bluff, challenging their silence with a sharp push on the shoulder,
letting them know he was fully prepared to take further action if they did not
comply. Yet something within him whispered extreme caution. The situation was
still a muddle of unanswered questions. Samsonov, like a note played on a well
tuned keyboard, was quick to respond, activating his targeting radars and
engaging the surface contact with an active signal.

“Mr.
Nikolin,” said the Admiral. “Please repeat your hail.”

The
tension was palpable on the bridge of
Kirov
when Rodenko reported a new
and worrisome development. “Con, radar contact, airborne at 37 kilometers,
south by southwest, and bearing on our position. Multiple contacts now! I read
five…now six contacts, all airborne.”

“They
are launching!” said Karpov. “I warned as much, Admiral. This is a NATO carrier
task force after all. Recommend we come to full battle readiness. Prepare to
oppose incoming air attack.” He turned to Fedorov, eying him darkly. “There’s
your carrier air operations,” he said. “They were lying in wait. Playing
possum!” Karpov was, of course, going to see the goblins he had conjured up in
his own mind. From his point of view, the enemy was doing exactly what he would
have done. They were simply springing a well laid trap, nothing more, nothing
less.

Samsonov
looked over his shoulder and Admiral Volsky noted how his hand was poised over
the alert readiness alarm. The ship was already at action stations, but full
alert would send the crew scrambling to a heightened level of preparedness.

“Speed?”
The Admiral wanted to know what he was dealing with. Was this a missile barrage
or a flight of strike aircraft as Karpov warned?

“Very
slow, sir.” Rodenko watched his readings closely for a moment, realizing the
gravity of the situation. If these were missiles the ship had but minutes, even
seconds to respond. He wanted to make certain he was interpreting all the data
accurately, and he hoped his systems were fully recovered from the anomaly they
had experienced. His system showed no identifiable missile types inbound. Was
it correct? All this passed in the barest moment within his mind, then he gave
his best judgment.

“One
contact inbound on our position…five contacts appear to be orbiting the surface
group. These are aircraft, sir. Not missiles. I repeat. This is
not
a
missile barrage.”

“How
long before the inbound contact reaches us?” The game of cat and mouse between
Russian and NATO forces had been ongoing for decades now. Both sides had been
conducting active maneuvers in Norwegian Sea in recent years, each closely
monitoring the activities of the other, and this could be nothing more than
another overly curious NATO surface action group sent here to nose about his
business, or perhaps, as Orlov suggested, they were merely investigating the
anomaly
Kirov
herself had encountered.

“Inbound
contact speed… 180 KPH, approximate,” said Rodenko. “Perhaps a Harrier jump
jet, sir, or possibly a helicopter. It's certainly not an F-35 at that speed.”
He was referring to the F-35 Lightning II, a stealthy, supersonic joint strike
fighter rumored to be slated for deployment on the newest British carrier,
Queen
Elizabeth.
“Inbound contact will be over us in 10 minutes, sir.”

“What
about our KA-40?”

“It
is already inbound as well, 10 kilometers out now. Probably already visible on
the horizon.”

“Mister
Nikolin,” said the Admiral. “Instruct the KA-40 to move due west away from our
position. Designate this incoming plane as Red Wolf Three. They are to lock
their air defense missile systems onto this contact, and hold fire pending
further notification. Repeat, weapons tight.” The Admiral turned to Samsonov
next. “Mister Samsonov activate primary air defense systems array and lock
radar on contact. Weapons tight. The SA-N-92 system, if you please.” He was
activating his medium range “Gauntlet” air defense missiles.

“Weapons
tight, Admiral?” There was a derisive tone to Karpov's voice. “You're going to
let them overfly us?” An over-flight would be standard operating procedure for
any NATO task force. The plane would sweep gracefully by, the pilot thumbing
his nose at the Russians as he passed. Sometimes they would launch emergency
flares as mock weapons to rub in the fact that they could just as easily have
launched live munitions. It had happened a thousand times before, largely
without incident, but the circumstances here were quite different and the
Admiral knew it. The fact that both
Orel
and
Slava
were still
missing weighed heavily in the equation.

Karpov's
wide eyed look of astonishment communicated his feelings on the matter
transparently. Volsky knew that if the Captain had his way, this plane would be
destroyed in a heartbeat. But he also knew that if he were to destroy the
target, the enemy task force may be compelled to reply in kind, and he would
soon find himself engaging ten to twelve NATO ships. If Karpov was correct, and
this was a deception, then those ships were not old British carriers and
cruisers, either. They would be lethal, modern ships like his own.

At
that moment Nikolin noticed something on his radio band monitor and listened
briefly. He had hold of the signal from London they had been waiting for, the
BBC News broadcast at the top of the hour, regular as rain in these cold Arctic
waters. Yet what he heard made no sense.

“BBC
news broadcast, sir, but it's very odd.”

The
Admiral was eager for any more information he could get. “Let me hear it,” he
said.

“Admiral,”
Karpov protested. “We have no more than seven or eight minutes now!”

Volsky
raised his hand, quieting the man as he listened. The signal seemed faint and
weak, and it was like nothing he had heard in recent years.

“…Vice
Admiral Somerville successfully reinforced the embattled Island of Malta, when
a powerful force steamed from Gibraltar to deliver much-needed supplies.
President Roosevelt announced this week that all Japanese assets in the United
States would be frozen, and he has suspended formal relations with Japan. On
the East front, German panzers under the General Guderian have reached
Smolensk, further increasing the threat to Moscow, and the Red Army announced
it has begun a counterattack near Leningrad. This is the BBC, 28 July, 1941.
Details of these and other events will be presented later in the broadcast …”

Four
sonorous notes of Beethoven's fifth Symphony sounded, and Fedorov's eyes
widened as he listened, recognizing the famous allied V for victory call sign
that was used in tandem with that musical motif throughout WWII.

“You
mean to say this documentary business continues?” said the Admiral. “This is
not the regularly scheduled live news broadcast?”

Fedorov
spoke up, realizing that what he was about to say sounded incredulous, but
needing to voice the opinion in any case. “Sir, we have clear video of the
approaching task force. They are World War II era ships! And we are hearing a
news broadcast from 1941… In fact that's all that has been on the radio band
for the last three hours.” He made no further conclusion, thinking it more than
enough to simply link these two pieces of the puzzle together.

Karpov
gave him an angry glance, waving at him dismissively. “Ridiculous!” he said
sharply. “That air contact will be over us in five minutes now.”

“So
we will
wait
for it, Mister Karpov,” said Volsky. Given the
circumstances, he had decided there was simply nothing else he could do. When
the plane arrived they would identify its markings and type by clear visual
contact, putting an end to the mystery once and for all. In the Admiral’s mind,
an answer to his many questions was just five minutes away.

Part III

Contact

“There
has been a misunderstanding, and the misunderstanding is quite evident…”

—Fyodor
Dostoevsky

Chapter
7

Force
P, Norwegian Sea, 122 Miles south of Jan Mayen Island
28 July, 1941

Rear
Admiral Sir Frederick Wake-Walker
stood on the bridge of HMS
Victorious
, watching the slowly rising seas.
Just off his port bow, a second light carrier, HMS
Furious
cruised by
his side. The two carriers were the heart of Force P, escorted by two heavy
cruisers,
Suffolk
and
Devonshire
, along with light cruiser
Adventure
,
and seven destroyers. His force was slowly creeping up to the Norwegian Sea,
intent upon striking two bases supporting German mountain troops in the far
north. The flight crews of his two light carriers would strike Petsamo and
Kirkenes in 48 hours, and the pilots were already receiving their briefings
below decks.

Wake-Walker
was a stolid, competent, and cautious man, well experienced at sea and thought
highly of by the commander-in-chief of the home fleet, Admiral John Tovey. At
53, his thinning hair was well receded, and combed tightly back lending him the
impression of a proper British schoolmaster. Like most men who had reached his
rank, he had a long and distinguished naval career dating back to the First
World War. Just sixty days ago, he had taken part in the harrowing chase of the
battleship
Bismarck
. Wake-Walker had been steaming aboard the cruiser
Norfolk
,
finding and shadowing the great battleship, and then assuming command of
Holland’s shattered task force after the tragic sinking of the
Hood
.

Well
after the encounter, the intrusive First Sea Lord, Sir Dudley Pound, had
thought to bring Wake-Walker up on charges for failing to reengage
Bismarck
with his two cruisers and the wounded battleship
Prince of Wales.
Yet
John Tovey would hear none of it. He vigorously supported Wake-Walker,
threatening resignation should any such charges be brought. The Admiral was
vindicated, and his decision to shadow and maintain contact with
Bismarck,
rather than re-engaging at that time, was upheld.

Now
that the enormous threat the German raider represented had been dealt with, the
Royal Navy was in the early stages of organizing lend-lease relief convoys to
Murmansk. The first such convoy, codenamed Dervish, was scheduled to depart
from Reykjavík in a little over three weeks time. Force P was now conducting a
mission to pave the way. They hoped to strike and neutralize German airfields
and ports at Petsamo and Kirkenes in northern Norway, and thus remove them as
potential threats to the newly planned convoy route to the far north.

Yet
that evening something had emerged from the distant weather front to the
northeast, a great disturbance reported by a weather ship several hundred miles
from their position. The message had been garbled when received, and then cut
off altogether, and they heard nothing further from the trawler. Now, from the
look of the far horizon, he sensed a rising storm bearing down on his planned
route to the North Cape area.

The
Admiral was about to detach HMS
Furious
to accompany the cruiser
Adventure
on ‘Operation EF’ to deliver a shipment of mines to the Russian port of
Archangel.
Furious
would then rejoin his main task force for the planned
airstrike. Force P was skulking up slowly, hoping to surprise the Germans, yet
the long hours of daylight at this latitude would make their mission quite
hazardous. He stared out the starboard screen on the bridge, watching HMS
Furious
riding in the distance.