Armageddon

Chapter 30

“Turn that damn thing off, Nikolin!” Karpov was enraged. “At Once! Who gave you an order to relay command channel traffic to the intercom? Get off the bridge, you stupid fool. Move!”

Shocked by the twisted expression on the Captain’s face, Nikolin quickly dropped his headset and slid out of his chair, a look of real fear on his face as he headed for the aft hatch of the citadel.

“Send up Chekov,” Karpov said sharply after him. “And be quick about it. You are confined to quarters until further notice.”

Nikolin shrugged and slipped through the hatch, his cheeks red and a downcast expression on his face. Yet he had done what he hoped. Everyone on the bridge now knew that Admiral Volsky was out there somewhere and heard his order for the ship to turn for Vladivostok. Rodenko knew, and was soon standing stiffly at the radar station, his eyes darkly on Karpov as he spoke.

“Captain, that was a warning shot. What is happening?”

“That man is insane,” said Karpov. “What is he trying to do here? Thank God I got that missile with the Klinok’s.”

“Those SAMs had nothing to do with it, sir. Look, they are still in the air! The missile was detonated deliberately. We must open a command channel to the Admiral at once.”

Rodenko wasn’t stupid. His initial confusion and surprise evaporated quickly. He had been musing over the incongruities on the bridge the last hour and feeling something was very wrong here. He knew that Fedorov was back, supposedly at Vladivostok, but now the P-900 set that assumption to rest. They had to be on a ship if they fired that missile, and a ship with nuclear propulsion. He knew the fleet as well as any man, and could see no surface contacts on the radar screen at the point of origin for this missile. They were on a submarine, and the list of possible boats was a short one. Why hadn’t he seen this earlier? It was right before his nose, the ASW loadout on the KA-40, the order to re-configure those S-400s…

“Captain, it is now obvious they have managed to return aboard a submarine. It’s not an Akula; they have no SSMs, and it’s certainly not an Oscar. They have to be aboard Kazan. That is the only boat in the Pacific armed with the P-900.”

“Very clever, Rodenko. I deduced this long ago. What of it?”

“Sir, why didn’t you inform me? Now we have orders from the Admiral and I would like clarification.”

“Since when do you have anything to do with orders from the Admiral? You take orders from only one man on this ship-the Captain.”

“But we all heard what the Admiral said, sir. We must comply.”

“We will do nothing of the sort.”

“Captain, I must insist.”

“You insist? Don’t get bigger than your britches, Rodenko. You insist nothing here, is that understood?”

The tension on the bridge was razor sharp. The two men were standing some ten feet apart, Rodenko by the radar, Karpov next to Nikolin’s communications station, still eying the switches and controls there with offended suspicion. Tasarov was listening beneath his headset, eyes closed tight as if he were trying to shut the scene out and lose himself in the depths of the sea. Samsonov was waiting at his CIC post, but there was a light of uncertainty in his eyes as they moved from the Captain to Rodenko. All the other junior officers and watch standers seemed frozen in shock.

Rodenko stood taller, hands on his hips, squaring off as he faced the Captain now. “Sir, with all due respect. I am Starpom of this ship. It is within my right to question any order you issue, and to demand clarification should any order be unclear, particularly if a senior officer is at hand. Now the Admiral is out there somewhere, and I have heard his direct order-”

“I am countermanding that order as Captain of this ship!” Karpov’s anger was barely controlled now, like a team of stallions straining at the reins. “Volsky knows nothing of the immediate tactical situation, and therefore cannot understand what needs to be done here.”

“Which is why we need to contact him, sir. If nothing more you can explain our present situation and prevent an incident that we may all soon regret. You saw that P-900. That was a warning shot! Kazan has considerably more to throw our way and our primary SAM system is not ready for action. We must open communications at once.”

Rodenko was playing it by the book. He knew his rights and obligations as Starpom, and if he had heard the whole of Admiral Volsky’s first message he would have taken a much stronger line here. As it stood, only Nikolin and Tasarov knew that Volsky had ordered Karpov relieved upon non-compliance, but the Captain knew that as well, and he was not about to allow any further ‘clarification’ of that little matter.

“The man is insane if he would fire on us like that, and if he tries it again, we’ll be ready for him, right Samsonov?”

“Sir?”

“I want all S-400 batteries active and enabled at once. Put the deck guns on automatic and have them engage contacts at 15,000 meters or less. Then key up the Vodopad torpedo system, four tubes. We have been given no choice and we must defend ourselves. Tasarov! Find me that goddamned submarine!” The Captain was staring at his sonar man now, a sinister look in his eye.

Rodenko realized that Karpov would not listen to reason, and that the subtleties of protocol would not avail him here either. Karpov was going to ignore the Admiral’s order, and more, he was making ready to do battle with him! The Captain’s blind insistence on this course, his overweening desire to strike a decisive blow to smash the history that had brought so much strife and sorrow to Russia, were his only concern. He knew that Karpov would not hesitate to fire Kirov’s ASW torpedoes, and that Kazan would hear that and immediately retaliate. They were seconds from a situation that no man alive could forestall or control once those weapons were fired, and now Samsonov was the key synapse in the chain of command. Instinctively, reflexively, he was reaching to enable the weapon systems on his command board, and Rodenko knew he had to act.

“Belay that order! You will stand down, Samsonov.”

“Stay out of this, Rodenko! Mind your place! This is your last warning. You are so concerned over orders here, but can’t seem to hear one when it’s given to you. Now either second my orders or stand aside and keep your mouth shut. Understood?”

“No, sir. I cannot second this order and I will not stand aside.”

“Then you are relieved! Go below at once and commiserate with Nikolin. The two of you have been nothing but trouble for days.”

“No, Captain, I will not. I have heard a direct order from a senior officer, and you have failed to comply. As Starpom of this ship that order now falls on me. I must relieve you sir, if you do not comply.”

“What are they doing out there,” said Volsky, his voice edged with impatience. “Anything?” He looked to the communications station now, hoping to hear that Kirov was signaling them.

“There has to be some confusion on the bridge,” said Fedorov. “That warning shot will have certainly surprised Karpov, and he must now know we are not at Vladivostok. The question is whether or not he can master his demons. I believe he will be preparing defensive measures now.”

“Yes, and the Vodopad system is all he has that could bother us this far away. But I do not think he has located us yet, even with our missile launch.”

“Probably not, given all the surface noise from those ships to the south. But he will at least have bearing and general range.”

“This does not bode well. If he fires I cannot take any further risk that one of those rocket torpedoes will find us, even if they have proved unreliable in the past. So here we have it, that cold reflex of war. A push on the shoulder becomes a shove, and that becomes Orlov’s punch in the face. The next thing we know we will feel the shock wave of another nuclear detonation. We fled to this distant past because that was precisely the situation we were facing in 2021, only it was not just this single submarine at stake, and not just Kirov, but the whole world waiting for the missiles to fire. This is but a microcosm of everything we set in motion. All that darkness is sitting right here. Yes, we are the demons from hell that we all shirk from in fear. Words fail us, then out come the clubs, knives and guns. This time it will be missiles.”

Fedorov’s eyes were sad and troubled. Then they seemed to kindle with newfound fire, the light of another idea there, and he leaned forward.

“Admiral…There may be another way we can handle this.”

“Oh? I would certainly like to hear it, Mister Fedorov, but I think you must be quick about it. The longer we go without a message back from Kirov, the darker the swells in this turbulent sea.”

“We have Rod-25 aboard, and we discovered that the radius of its effects is far greater than first believed. When the Anatoly Alexandrov shifted forward from 1942 we took a Soviet fishing trawler with us over a kilometer away! That was how we managed to find Orlov. Those British commandos I told you about had him on that trawler.”

“Yes, yes, and what does that have to do with this situation now, Fedorov?”

“Sir… Kazan is a very stealthy sub. If we could get close enough, we could initiate the procedure again and possibly take Kirov with us, willing or not!”

The Admiral looked at him now, raising his heavy eyebrow. “You mean our shift would pull in Kirov as well? Are you certain this would work?”

“Nothing in all this business is certain, sir. But it is one last possibility short of a missile barrage laced with nuclear warheads.”

Volsky folded his arms, inclining his head to Captain Gromyko now. “Just how quiet can this boat be, Captain?”

The hot potato was now in Gromyko’s hands, and it was very uncomfortable. “Well, Admiral…I turned on a heading of 215 and began a high speed sprint just after we fired. As Fedorov says, there is a great deal of surface noise, and that island is now masking our position. Even at high speed we are very quiet, as long as that bearing aft doesn’t give us away.”

“What if Kirov used the Vodopads?”

“I believe I could evade them, sir. They would likely fall well behind us near our missile firing point, and if any were lucky enough to lock on I could probably outrun the damn torpedo at the pace we’re going now.”

“How close could we conceivably get to the ship without being detected. Don’t forget, Kirov has the Shkval system as well, and it is much more lethal than the Vodopads. They can range out fifteen kilometers at 200 kph. That means he could hit us with one in under five seconds at that range and you certainly cannot approach at high speed.”

“No, sir. I will slow to 10 knots on final approach.”

“Well we must not forget the man sitting at sonar out there. Tasarov is very good. If he hears us…”

Fedorov spoke now, knowing that this was their last chance to avoid a cataclysm here. “We have his heading, sir. He is steering right for the southern tip of Iki Island. He knows from our first radio communication, and from our warning shot, that we are to his north.”

“And so he seeks to put the island between us and the ship. I have seen him use this tactic before.”

“Yes, sir. He did the same thing just after that accident on Orel that first displaced us in time. He wanted to get the ship north of Jan Mayan and use the island as a shield against those contacts we had to the south.”

“Do not forget the KA-40s,” Volsky warned. “They could be up there dropping sonobuoys as we speak.”

“There must be a good deal of confusion and doubt aboard Kirov now, sir,” said Fedorov. “They had to hear your orders. Karpov said the crew voted to stay here, but that was before your direct order to the contrary. I would bet there is some tension over all of this, perhaps even conflict aboard.”

“Unfortunately Sergeant Troyak is here, and I do not think Karpov will make the same mistake twice and allow the ship’s Marines to settle the issue.”

“Just the same, sir, if we have any chance to attempt this and succeed, now is the time to act. Otherwise it is your hand on our missile key, and Karpov with his.”

“If it comes to that choice,” said Gromyko, “I can fire at any point as we head southwest, but realize if we have to use a special warhead the blast effects could be up to five kilometers wide. I’ll need some room. It is very shallow in the Iki Channel and Genkai Sea. If I had to fire I would prefer to do so soon.”

Volsky passed an agonizing moment in the silence of his mind. He remembered that night in Vladivostok just after the meal he had shared with Fedorov and Karpov. The Captain was another man then, rehabilitated, a phoenix risen from the ashes of everything he had done in the North Atlantic. Now he counted on them both to find a way to save the world and prevent the war they knew was coming.

He had rushed to a waiting taxi for the ride out to Naval Headquarters Fokino when the alert was sounded and the fleet was called to arms. The memory was still as fresh and cold in his mind as the cool night air when he rolled down the window, beckoning Karpov near.

“We both know what is happening now,” he had said to the Captain. “We may have plugged one hole in the dike by sparing that American sub, but now the water seems to be coming up over the top. Remember, you are acting Captain of the battlecruiser Kirov. Don’t let Kapustin and Volkov push you around. And one more thing… Fedorov… Listen to him, Captain. Listen to him… Do what you must, but we both know that there is something much greater than the fate of the ship at stake now, something much bigger than our own lives. We are the only ones who know what is coming, Karpov, and fate will never forgive us if we fail her this time.”

“Fedorov will stand right beside me, Admiral, and we will do everything in our power to prevent that future we saw together. I promise you.”

“I’ll have faith in you both…There’s one more thing…” The Admiral recalled how drew out his missile key, removing it and slowly handing it to Karpov. Their eyes met, a thousand words unspoken, and then he nodded at his Captain, raising his heavy hand in a salute, which Karpov returned briskly with a farewell smile. He could still see the Captain turn and rush away to the nearby quay where the dark threatening profile of the world’s most powerful surface action ship rode quietly at anchor. He was animated with energy, and there seemed to be hope in every stride he took as he approached the gangway.

What had happened? Where had that hope gone? Was it the stress of combat with the Americans in 2021, the jolting shock of that Demon Volcano and the realization that the ship was again lost in time, marooned, with no way home? And then how was it Kirov was sent hurtling further into the past, to 1908? Was Kamenski correct in thinking that Rod-25 had been trying to work its way home to this year all along-the year of Tunguska?

In an instant he knew what had happened. Karpov had spoken the same cold logic to him long ago, aboard Kirov when he first asked him why he had tried to take the ship. The Captain had been surly, disrespectful, but he finally spoke his mind.

“What future are you talking about, old man?”

Volsky remembered bringing his fist down hard on the thin wood of the table, and the sullen Captain started with the unexpected blow. “Address me by name and rank, Captain! You are talking to the Admiral of the Northern Fleet!”

“Admiral of the fleet? What fleet is this you presume to command now, comrade? We are one ship, lost at sea, and lost in eternity. God only knows where we are now, but I can assure you, the fleet is long gone, and there is no one back home in Severomorsk waiting for us to return either. It’s all gone, Volsky. Gone! Understand that and you have your fat fist around the heart of it. If you want to understand what I did you need only open your hand and look at it. All we had left was this ship, and no one else seemed to have backbone enough to defend it. If I had not taken command it is very likely that we would all be at the bottom of the sea now-have you considered that? So do what you will. Choke me. Shoot me!.. I had my hand on the throat of time itself and I let it slip from my grasp. Don’t you understand what we could have done with this ship?”

The man found himself in 1945, and he fought. Now he is blown into 1908 and here he fights again, only now he believes he can finally win. Here the siren song of temptation is simply too great for him to resist. Then we return, with the one thing he has always feared most, a submarine. Now I think he will fight again. I have never seen him run, or quail in the face of combat. So I must either raise my sword now while we have the advantage and every prospect for success, or take the grave risk that Fedorov suggests.

Could we get there undetected? Even if we could get close enough, would Rod-25 have the power to sweep us both away into the chasm of time again? Can Dobrynin control the reaction under these circumstances? Even if he can, where will we end up? Will we get home? Will there be any world left there at all when we arrive? Will it all be charred and burned as it was before?… It’s all gone, Volsky. Gone!.. I had my hand on the throat of time itself and I let it slip from my grasp. Don’t you understand what we could have done with this ship?

He glanced at the ship’s chronometer, seeing the second hand of the clock moving swiftly on. He had to decide.