Armageddon

Chapter 12

They watched the Japanese ships burning from the citadel bridge, saw the men go into the water, silent shadows on the HD video display. Yet the crew had seen this before, ships struck and burning, keeling over, capsized, broken by the awesome power of Kirov.

“Now we know what a single missile will do to these old ships,” said Karpov, emotionless, assessing the situation from a pure military standpoint.

“The fuel load at that short range made for most of the damage, said Rodenko. “A missile moving at that speed, with an armor piercing explosive warhead and that much extra fuel behind it is like an air fuel bomb going off-truly awesome destructive power.”

“And we still have ten Moskit IIs left,” said Karpov. “The MOS-IIIs are even faster, though not as heavy. This is enough missiles to destroy the entire Japanese fleet, all their battleships and armored cruisers, though, as we have seen, it does not take a missile to deal with the cruiser class ships. Mister Samsonov’s gunnery was more than sufficient, and unanswerable.”

“As long as the rounds hold out in the magazine, sir. We can’t manufacture any more, and we may be here for a good long while.”

“I am well aware of that, but once we settle accounts with the Japanese Navy things should quiet down. I was reluctant to use the missiles, but against their heavier armored ships they may be the better choice and do in one blow what the deck guns might take half an hour to accomplish. That said, I was not expecting those ships to be in firing range so I had to take quick action.”

“The only reason they even got off a shot at us was because they were lying in wait behind those islands, sir.”

“Yes, well I will correct that at once with the KA-40. Get it up with an Oko panel and do a general survey of the region to the southwest. I want no more surprises.”

They ordered the helo up and Karpov slowed to twenty knots, circling in place while they investigated what had happened to the cruisers they engaged near the main island of Dogo. The data feed came in forty minutes later. The shattered cruiser squadron had slipped into a narrow bay behind Dozen Island, and there they sat while the crews fought the fires and tried to keep the vessels seaworthy. They were putting wounded men ashore, and one cruiser was so badly damaged that the Japanese beached it to prevent it from sinking.

The Captain ordered the helo to sweep south along the coast to see what else might be waiting for them. It was well over the horizon for the next two hours, and it soon found a line of eight more ships heading south at 22 knots, a fairly high speed. Karpov believed them to be cruisers or possibly even small destroyer class ships, and gave them no more thought.

“The heading they are on will take them here,” said Rodenko. “Oshima Island. The helo picked up several other surface contacts in that region, presumably commercial traffic.”

“It’s these other groups that we need to focus on now,” said Karpov pointing at the digital readout on the Plexiglas screen. There are ten ships here near Iki Island, and eleven more in the Korea Strait west of Tsushima.”

“Obviously they intend to try to interdict those passages.”

“So we have a choice now as to which passage to take. Opinions, Mister Rodenko?”

Rodenko knew what he really wanted to say here, that they should not engage at all; that they should turn and withdraw north towards Vladivostok and then get out into the Pacific. Yes, that island Volsky had found for shore leave sounded very good now as opposed to yet another sea battle and scenes on the Tin Man Display like those they had just watched. Yet he knew that if he voiced these thoughts all he would get for them was Karpov’s arguments to the contrary, and most likely his suspicion as well. So he looked at the situation from a purely military point of view and gave his answer.

“I would not take the passage east of Iki Island. It is too restricted and too close to the Japanese homeland. There will be a good deal of commercial traffic there, small fishing boats, steamers, all potential targets if you insist on this quarantine, but also a lot of fish in the net, and not those I think you are after here.”

“And the passage between Iki Island and Tsushima?”

“They have thirteen ships on station there now, Captain, and I think this group of eight ships withdrawing south is going to reinforce that flotilla. They must have received news of our recent engagement, so they are consolidating now and this will give them quite enough to close that passage.”

“So they may believe. Then you feel that is their main body?”

“In numbers, perhaps, but not their biggest ships. I looked at the return data, and the signal density readings are not equivalent to those we had on the two battleships we just sunk.”

“You can determine ship type from this signal strength?”

“Of course, sir, most of the time. I believe the last of their battleships are here.” Rodenko pointed to the Korea Strait now, between Korea and the Tsushima Islands.

“Then their Admiral Togo will be there on the flagship Mikasa. He is watching the western strait with their best ships, so that is where he fears we will go. The channel is some 60 kilometers wide, and eleven ships isn’t much of a force.”

“We could probably skirt north near Korea and slip right through at thirty knots, sir.”

“Yes, but that would spoil the fun Rodenko. They would have to follow us into the Yellow Sea, and they could only catch us if we allowed it. There isn’t much fire for the new history books we’re about to write in a maneuver like that. No. I think we will take our time and sail right up to that island. Then we may choose one side or the other, and engage anything that dares to block our path. He has fought here against the Russians before, and like a sly old hunting dog he is going back to familiar ground. Well, we will not disappoint him by trying to sneak through in the dark at high speed. Leave such maneuvers to the Germans in WWII.”

Rodenko felt a stab of discontent with that, the same worrisome feeling that this whole adventure was going to cause far more harm than any of them imagined. His conscience nagged that he should speak up and push on this, yet the boundaries of rank and military protocol were hard barriers, and a Captain on his ship was God in his paradise. Yet Zolkin’s words returned to him: ‘ You must do your duty, but yet you are still Starpom, and second in command here now. Your voice counts, so if you have anything further to say about the matter, you must say it to the Captain’s face…’

“You mean to engage their entire fleet tomorrow, sir?”

“Of course, that is the point of this operation, Rodenko. Once I have neutralized the Japanese Navy, all things are possible here. Can you imagine the news finally reaching the Tsar in St. Petersburg? When he learns a single Russian ship has defeated the entire Japanese Navy and restored the balance here, that will certainly raise a few eyebrows. Then we can start getting things done.”

“What things, Captain? What is it we will do, exactly, after we put another ten or twelve ships out of commission here? What kind of new history will we be writing?” His voice had just enough of an edge to it to indicate his disapproval, but if Karpov heard it, he chose to ignore it.

“Leave that to me. First we patrol the Yellow Sea and I will send messages to that effect regarding the quarantine. When St. Petersburg realizes Port Arthur is cut off and cannot be resupplied easily, it will seem a ripe plum for the taking.”

“Are you certain about that, Captain? This Russia was somewhat of a wild beast after they lost the war in 1905. The country was war weary, and trouble rising in Europe overshadowed everything else. That and the revolution slowly building steam might mean the Tsar won’t do anything here at all. Instability was the prevailing condition of the day. There was even a rebellion in Vladivostok and they had to declare martial law there in 1905 just after the war. Uprisings continued off and on through 1907.”

“We can use that energy to our advantage, Rodenko. Those uprisings were not well led. They arose from grievances within the ranks over poor treatment, repressive rules and restrictions, bad food.”

“You plan on sending the ship’s chief chef ashore, sir?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. All this tells us is that there is good dry kindling there should the authorities, the Mayor and others, not accede to my wishes. It will be necessary to secure two ports in this region, Port Arthur is the first, and once I deliver that, Vladivostok is the real plum that will fall. I must establish authority there to proceed any further.”

“That could take a good deal of time, sir, and you will need strong support on the ground there. The ship can sit in the harbor and use its deck guns to make a show of force if need be, but we can’t control the city with 200 naval infantry. The garrison there had 60,000 men! There were units of the 10th Siberian Rifle Division, Cossack Cavalry Regiments, Railroad Brigades…”

“I see you have done some reading in Fedorov’s books. The obvious thing to do is to recruit those units to our banner. Well, there will be time enough to choose the best course after this naval battle is won. But unless we do win it, none of those options present themselves. To win you must fight, Rodenko. That should be obvious. You fight, you defeat your enemy, and then you dance in the wreckage. I know that sounds cold to you, even heartless, but it is what I call victory. Are you ready for that? It is easily within our grasp here. You saw how quickly we dispatched that squadron today. We will do the same tomorrow. Look…the island splits his available force in two and allows us to defeat them in detail. So that is exactly what we will do. What do we need to steer to come here?” The Captain pointed at the northern tip of Tsushima Island.

Rodenko was not satisfied, but business was business, and war fighting was his job. He had signed on to a battlecruiser, not a luxury liner. Though he had real misgivings about the Captain’s state of mind, and his plan in general, he could see no clear way to impede it at the moment. So he spoke by reflex, his eyes scanning the digital map and making quick calculations, but the sound of his voice seemed hollow to him.

“We might best come west a bit first, steering about 260 until we reach a point in the center of the straits. Then turn thirty points to port and steer 230.”

“Make it so, Rodenko. You may also recall the KA-40 now. I think we have adequate situational awareness, and the Fregat system should see anything that tries to get close to us from here on in. If we need helo support to monitor enemy movements on one side of the island or another, we’ll launch again later. For the moment, we’ve lingered here about six hours now. Make twenty knots. How long before we would reach the island?”

“A little over seven hours, sir. It looks to be about 275 kilometers.”

“Very well, let’s get headed southwest on 260 degrees, and I think the two of us can both get a little rest for the next six hours. You can leave instructions with Fedorov…I mean with the navigator.”

Rodenko nodded, noting the Captain’s obvious slip of the tongue. “I miss him too, sir, we all do.”

“Yes, well it can’t be helped now, Rodenko.”

“I wonder where he is?”

“Probably still in the Caspian trying to figure a way to get the Anatoly Alexandrov home in one piece with Orlov. I can’t imagine he’s very happy with us now either. Believe me, it was not easy to disappoint him. I was privy to plans you were unaware of long before this. I was there when Fedorov first dreamed up his idea to go after Orlov and brought it to the Admiral. I thought it was foolish then, and it certainly seems foolish now. Orlov was never anything to be concerned about.”

“No sir…It seems we are the thing he is most concerned about now, but what if they can’t get home?”

“He was trying so hard to right the wrongs and preserve his history intact, Rodenko, but it was clear to me that was no longer possible. Yes, we are the issue now. I was responsible for much of what happened before, and I remain responsible for that now as we speak. Don’t you see? It’s me-not Orlov, not Fedorov or Volsky, and not even that goddamned war we were trying to prevent. It’s me. All history now turns in the gyre I spin. I am the man that fortune bows to now. But this is the way it has always been in history. A man sees opportunity and he reaches for it. He makes a difference. He changes things. He becomes great. I am one of those men now, Rodenko. Fedorov could never see what I saw.”

Yes, thought Rodenko. A man sees opportunity and he reaches for missiles tipped with nuclear warheads. But he could not voice that now.

“And what about the Admiral, sir?”

“Volsky? He was a good and wise man, but too cautious. He was not really willing to take the big risk that I saw necessary to achieve the victory I speak of. Perhaps he would not approve of my choices here. He may even feel I have betrayed his trust. Yet I see things another way. If you go to war a half-hearted warrior then you come back from it in a coffin or body bag. This is war, Rodenko. It isn’t nice and it isn’t moral either. Yes, Fedorov’s history books are all about to be re-written here. Well, if he does get home he can read all about it, though we will never see him again. By the time he gets there we will all be in our graves.”

“Strange to think of it that way, sir.”

“Indeed,” said Karpov. “This is where we live out our lives now, Rodenko. I hope you are prepared for that. Once we achieve our goals here those lives could be quite comfortable. We’ll have power-real power-and not just here on the ship. I intend to establish a strong outpost on land and rally the troops in the east to my flag. Believe me, it will give Fedorov something to read when if he gets home.”

“Suppose he won’t leave it at that, sir.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s a resourceful man, and very determined. It took a lot of guts to do what he did, going back with two Marines and crossing half the continent to find Orlov. Suppose he decides he can’t allow us to proceed here? Suppose he tries to come back after us?”

“On what? Varyag is sunk. Orlan is gone. Admiral Kuznetsov uses diesel powered boilers. There are no more nuclear powered ships left in the fleet here and only a handful of submarines that were all out to sea when that volcano blew us into 1945. They are probably locked in a death struggle with the Americans even now as we speak.”

The Captain was heading for the citadel hatch. “Come then, let’s get something to eat in the officer’s dining room. I’m always hungry after a good fight.”