Lions at Dawn

Chapter 31

“If and when we find this Russian ship, we must now discuss how to proceed. You tangled with it earlier, Captain Harada. Any advice?”

“Caution,” said Harada. “We had the advantage of surprise in that they did not even know we were in theater—in this time. We counted a lot on that to try and get within missile range, but they must have some very good ears on that ship. They picked up something, possibly the narrow band radio transmissions we were using to contact Admiral Kurita. He was in the van, about fifty klicks ahead of us. That said, we got off all eight SSMs, but they swatted every last one down with their SAMs. Then they started throwing back. We took out a dozen SSMs, but the last was blazing fast, probably a Zircon running at Mach 5. We had to use the laser to get it, and we were damn lucky that succeeded. Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation, and you’d all be scratching your heads here as to what happened to you, and at a real disadvantage.”

“Yet now we have the F-35’s,” said Fukada, an eager tone in his voice. “What ordnance did you get? Hopefully you’ve got some ship killers in the magazines.”

“We’re carrying the AGM-154-C1,” said Kita.

“The JSOW?” said Fukada, which stood for ‘Joint Standoff Weapon.’ “That’s block three, so it has moving maritime target capability, but it’s damn slow compared to what the Russians will be throwing at us.”

“That’s the nature of the beast,” said the Admiral. “It would be nice if we had the AGM 158, but our American friends only delivered the 154. I guess they need everything else they’ve got for their own CV battlegroups.”

“That limits our strike range to 45 nautical miles on the JSOW.”

“Plus the range of the F-35’s,” Kita corrected. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“You realize we’ve got no GPS here,” said Fukada.

“The missile has infra-red terminal guidance,” said the Admiral, and our pilots will have to put them on the right track when they launch. That’s the best we can do. We’re also carrying smart bombs, and we’ve got the GBU/53B. We can lob those 60 nautical miles out, and that one is optimized for use in GPS denied environments.”

“Tri-seeker capability,” said Captain Yoshida off the Akagi. “It has Millimeter wave radar detection, infra-red, and semi-active laser. Beyond that, we’ve got Paveway II and III, but we’d have to get in real tight to use those—eight nautical miles. I say we put our money on the GBU-53. Each plane can carry eight in the internal weapons bay, and the F-35 will have a strike radius of 450 nautical miles with that loadout. So that means we can reach out and touch the enemy at a 500 mile range. That’s well beyond anything Kirov can throw at us.”

“Not quite,” said Fukada. “I read up on that new Zircon. It can range out 700 nautical miles—lightning fast. If they see us first, they can hit us before our planes even get close. Face it, the Russians only had one carrier worth the name, so they put all their money into missile tech, and it’s damn good. Hence our advice to be cautious here.”

“That’s the key issue,” said Admiral Kita. “We’ve got to find them before they know we’re in the game, just as you tried to do. I want to have planes in the air approaching their weapons release positions before Kirov lifts a finger. We’ve got to put them on the defense. As for our own SSMs, we’d have to be within 75 to 100 nautical miles to let those fly, so I see them as our final option.”

We have a good number of helicopters,” said Captain Yoshida. “They can serve for long range search. That will allow us to use the F-35’s for strike roles. I would assume we would be heading south toward Truk, which was their last known zone of operation.”

Harada thought about that, and shook his head. “If we throw up too many helos, they may spot one or more with their Fregat system. Wouldn’t that show them our hand? They know we have a single Seahawk, but if they were to spot two or three helos, then what? They’d have to conclude something more is out there. May I suggest a different approach?”

“Go ahead,” said The Admiral, listening intently.

“We’ve fought them before, and even had a verbal joust at the end with this Karpov. He wanted to rub in the fact that we were toothless, and no longer a threat. But he knows we’re out here, and he’d much rather send us to the deep six. The only reason he broke off that engagement was to conserve his SSMs. Fukada thinks he’s running low, but I’m not so sure. That ship has enormous VLS capacity.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“Let us take the van. We can operate as a forward picket as we head south, and I think I may even get on the radio and see if I can ruffle this guy’s feathers—call him out. After all, when Achilles wanted to take vengeance on Hector, he just rode up to the gates of Troy and called him to battle. I can do that with Karpov.”

“Achilles and Hector have already fought,” said Fukada, but with an edge of warning. “Except we were Hector.”

“Point taken, but I think I could rile this guy up.”

“You mean you’d give away your position?” asked Kita.

“Correct. He’ll think we’re being rushed in to help defend Truk, but I’m betting he won’t target us. He could have done that long ago, but held his fire once he knew we had lost our offensive punch. If I can get this Karpov on the radio, we might be able to get a fix on his position. In fact, I don’t even think he’d care if we had a hard contact on him. Remember, he thinks we can’t hurt him any longer. Oh, we could try sending the Seahawk at him, but he’d just shoot it down easily enough. That’s why he ignored us, and I think he’d ignore us again, unless we got right between him and his intended target.”

“Clever,” said Admiral Kita. “You get out there and thumb your nose at him, see if we can make out his position, then we come over the horizon with bad intent. That’s damn sinister.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” said Harada. “We’ve got to look at this through his eyes. OK, he just hit Truk, but he was damn economical about it. He put a missile on the Zuiho, hit the airfield, a tanker, and Musashi. Now what does he do to top that? I think he realized that Truk wasn’t the real nerve center of Yamamoto’s operation at the moment—it’s Rabaul. That’s our forward base supporting everything in the Solomons and the campaign in the Fijis. That’s where he’ll find our carriers, and those are the high priority targets he’s after. So I say we set course for Rabaul, and right now. Let me lead you by at least 50 nautical miles. You run silent in EMCON. Keep our F-35’s locked and loaded, and let us flush the quarry out. We’ll make it look like we’re trying to get into a good defensive position to screen Rabaul. We can even solicit Yamamoto’s cooperation. Remember, the whole IJN is down there, and all those ships can work for us.”

Admiral Kita thought for a moment, then smiled. “Captain, let’s get south and find our namesakes. I’ve burned many an incense stick to honor my ancestors, but never thought I’d get to meet them in the flesh. Getting a look at the real Kaga and Akagi would be interesting, to say the least.”

“Very good, sir. With your permission, I would like to return to my ship and run this by Admiral Yamamoto. We gave them a radio set so we could exchange secure encrypted transmission calls. The question is this—should I reveal your presence here to him?”

“Considering that we’ll be joining the fight here, one way or another, I suppose that would be inevitable. Could you arrange a meeting, even if it is via this secure radio protocol? I haven’t resolved the issue of chain of command insofar as it concerns this task force, and I’d like to discuss this with him.”

The thought of speaking directly with the legendary Admiral Yamamoto was lure enough for Kita. Seeing the man alive was even more, and it would put a face to this impossible scenario in a way the sailors aboard the IJN tanker could not quite do. The decision they had made to intervene in this war would begin by attempting to remove the contagion of Kirov from the scene, but it may not end there, and Kita wanted to set the ground rules for future operations.

In all this deliberation, the Japanese had no way of knowing that Karpov himself was now operating with a new agenda, one also aimed at eliminating the contamination of modern influences on this historical milieu. At least that is what Karpov agreed to on the surface in his meeting with Fedorov, Volsky and Gromyko.

“So we’re agreed on a common aim here,” said Fedorov. ‘The question now is how to proceed?”

“Then we can safely say this mission Kamenski dreamed up is dead?” Karpov did not want to leave any stone unturned. He eyed Gromyko, sizing up the one potential adversary here that he would prefer not to have a disagreement with.

“If we are agreed on this common purpose,” said Gromyko, “then I can assume my mission is being collectively undertaken by all of us.”

“Then let’s be clear,” said Karpov. “There will be no hostilities between us, correct?”

“You have my word on that, if you’ll give me the same.”

“Done,” said Karpov. “Frankly, neither one of us could operate here worrying about the other putting a missile into our backsides when we weren’t looking. With your agreement, I will data link with you to make the handshake official. That means we will each see the other’s location at all times. So we can dispense with this theater of sneaking the Admiral ashore here and you lurking in the depths.”

“A submarine Captain is, by his very nature, a cautious man,” said Gromyko. “But I will agree to this.” Gromyko knew he would not be operating close to Kirov in any case, and if this truce were to break down, he could terminate the data link at any time.

“Alright then,” said Karpov. “We’re allies, united in a common purpose, and let no one stand to oppose us. First order of business—this rogue destroyer… It’s clearly thrown in with the Japanese, and if I am to cease my intervention here, which is asking a great deal of me, then we must assure ourselves that ship will not be interfering here either. It must be destroyed.”

“We had a good chance at doing that earlier,” said Fedorov, “but we determined it wasn’t worth the missile inventory required. That was because you intended to use those missiles another way, but if we hold to this agreement, then the sole purpose of everything we have under that forward deck is to enforce the understanding we have reached here—that all modern day influences must be purged from this timeline, including ourselves… Kirov, Kazan, Captains and crew, including Admirals and heads of state.” He glanced at Karpov with that.

“Yes, yes,” said Karpov. “Let’s begin with this Japanese destroyer. When we last locked horns, it was in the Sea of Okhotsk, and operating with an IJN task force. We warned off the battleships with a missile, then ignored them to go after this Takami. I suspected they may have had carriers, which I should have killed, but we never located them. In any case, we must determine how to locate this rogue ship and coordinate our efforts to kill it. Their SAMs are quite effective, but they can’t stop torpedoes with them, can they.” He looked at Gromyko.

“Frankly,” said the Captain. “The weapon I best use to kill a ship is my stealth. It doesn’t matter whether I use a missile or torpedo to do the job. Stealth gives me my firing angle, and I take it. But a good sub Captain never takes a shot unless he thinks it will kill his adversary…. unless ordered to do so, like that engagement we fought with the Americans off Japan in 2021.”

“It was necessary to saturate that carrier with as many missiles as we could put on it,” said Karpov. “But let’s not refight that old battle. It was already won. Here is my theory on how we can locate this Japanese destroyer. All we have to do is threaten a key asset of the IJN. That was partly my reason for striking Truk as I did, and now I propose that we up the ante and move to strike their forward base at Rabaul, just as you advised earlier, Mister Fedorov.”

“But we decided we will no longer intervene here.”

“True, but a threat to intervene might flush out our quarry.”

“That’s a fine line. Even the threat compels the Japanese of this era to take countermeasures they would not have undertaken if we were not here. Don’t you see? They would deploy ships to try and defend against such an attack. I’ll bet Yamamoto is pulling what little hair he has left out over our presence here.”

“Perhaps he ordered that rogue ship to try and ambush us,” said Karpov. “All I’m proposing is pushing on them a little to get them to calling their sheep dog. I understand what you are saying, Fedorov, but do you have a better idea as to how we can locate Takami? You want me to burn aviation fuel and run the KA-40s all over creation trying to find that ship?”

Karpov hesitated a moment, reaching to his service jacket collar and pressing a hidden button there. Fedorov heard a tinny voice, and he realized Karpov’s jacket was wirelessly receiving a signal voice transmission, undoubtedly from Nikolin aboard Kirov.

“One moment…” Karpov held up his hand, listening, then spoke aloud, but to Nikolin at the other end of that transmission. “You say it was a direct call—in the clear?… Very well. Stand by, Mister Nikolin. Have the KA-40 vector back into my position here on this island. We’ll be returning to the ship directly.”

Karpov looked up at the others. “How is it the Americans say it? Bingo! Nikolin just received a voice transmission from the Captain of Takami. He wants to have a little chat!” Karpov beamed. “I guess this solves our problem. Who knows what this Captain Harada may want to say to me, but I’ll certainly listen, and all the while, I’ll put Nikolin—along with your man on Kazan, to work triangulating his position. We’ve got the bastards. I suggest we get back to Kirov immediately. Admiral, you are welcome to join us aboard Kirov if you wish—but with the understanding that command of that ship, in every respect, resides with me.”

Volsky thought about that, pulled by the desire to see the ship and crew again, to walk those decks, revisit his cabin and stateroom aboard, listen to the ship again at night as he so often did. Yet Karpov’s last statement gave him pause. There he would be, standing in the dark shadow of Vladimir Karpov. The memories of how he felt when Karpov arranged his ruse to seize control of the ship at Murmansk were also still bitter in his mind. While he longed to see those old faces again, particularly his dear friend Doctor Zolkin, he had second thoughts. Being there, would bring an obvious palpable tension aboard with him. The crew might become involved with that, and so he thought the better of Karpov’s offer, and declined.

“No, Mister Karpov, I think one Admiral is enough on any ship. Two will invariably step on one another’s toes. If you don’t mind, I will return with Captain Gromyko to Kazan.

This scenario was most unexpected. The Japanese had devised a strategy to flush out Kirov, thinking Karpov considered them nothing more than a nuisance. Harada’s ploy to call out Karpov like Achilles before the walls of Troy was about to backfire on him in a way he could not imagine. He thought Karpov wouldn’t waste another shot at his missile defense shield, but now, by directly revealing himself, he was walking towards the lion’s den.

Yet not alone…. There were other lions on the prowl, loping their way towards the grey dawn, and Karpov, Kirov and all the rest, were going to meet them.

Chapter 32

The conversation between Karpov and Harada was short and cold. The two men had spoken earlier, each one baiting and taunting the other, and this was no different.

“What brings you to my hunting grounds?” said Karpov. “I thought I was clear about what would happen to you if you ever darkened my horizon again.”

“It seems you paid a visit to our naval facilities at Truk recently,” said Harada. “Yet you left without paying the bill. I’m here to collect.”

At that Karpov literally laughed. “Oh? What are you going to do here, Captain, throw chopsticks at me? Don’t be stupid. You’re no threat to me now, and you know it. And neither is that Seahawk you have up there looking for me. Thanks for the tip-off on your location.”

“We can see your helo up as well,” said Harada. “You’re getting sloppy, Karpov. I’ve got a fix on your 226 to within a 9 second certainty, and that nice fat battlecruiser of yours makes an easy target.”

“For what? We can count, Captain. You threw 8 SSMs at us, and the last we heard, your class has no internal magazines for reloads. Forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but it’s a long way to your home port in 2021, and I don’t think you made the trip lately.”

Both sides had helos up, each looking for the other. They saw each other clearly enough on their radars, but neither had acquired a surface ship contact. The Seahawk off Takami had moved out about 50 nautical miles from the ship, and it located the KA-226 Karpov had launched for maritime surveillance, pegging its position 220 miles slightly southeast of Ponape.

Behind Takami, Admiral Kita’s task force was moving in two groups, cruising at a sedate 20 knots, with every ship observing EMCON, running dark. Their helos and planes were all armed and ready for the fight, and it appeared that Captain Harada’s plan had worked just as he imagined it would. Kita had the destroyer Kirishima out in front, followed by Takami’s sister ship Atago. Behind them came Akagi and Kaga, trailed by the destroyer Kongo. About 20 nautical miles behind this formation, the new DD escort Takao led the fleet replenishment ship Omi, which was attended by the old helicopter destroyer Kurama. They were all on a heading of 195 south, but when Takami sent over the presumed location of the KA-226, Admiral Kita made a hard turn to port, coming to 240 degrees southwest, aiming right for that helo. Takami turned with them, heading right for Ponape, and expecting that their quarry was somewhere in the 260 plus miles of open ocean.

Kirov had been moving northwest on a course of 300 degrees, but now Karpov also turned to meet the expected heading of his adversary. The ship began a wide circle to the northeast an hour after sunrise. As for Gromyko, he was about 135 miles from Kirov, on the exact new heading Karpov had ordered.

Nikolin looked over at Karpov, indicating he had just received a communication from Blackbird. Their helo had just picked up the first surface contact of the day, and the data was being simultaneously fed to Rodenko’s station, and also by secure datalink to Kazan. Karpov immediately ordered the contact designated ‘Hostile,’ and the game was on. The Russians had been moving north, intending to then turn northwest to bypass Ponape. Kazan was well ahead, about 150 miles to the northeast. The Japanese were coming south from Eniwetok, and so when Takami was spotted it was 165 nautical miles from Kirov, but only about 50 nautical miles northwest of Gromyko’s boat. As soon as he received the contact data, the wily sub Captain immediately ordered a turn northwest to a heading of 295.

Kazan was cruising just over the thermocline layer at 20 knots, without even a whisper of cavitation at that speed. From that location, his depth about 420 feet, he could use his hull mounted sonar to listen to contacts above him, and then also deploy a towed sonar array, which would descend down below the layer. That was the deep sound channel, where noise traveled best in the ocean. He seldom went there, except to pass through to a deeper region of the sea, or perhaps to simply hover there, silent and still, letting Chernov’s ears feast in that sound channel.

Now the element of surprise was acting as the dealer in this poker game, handing out cards to both sides. Harada had no idea that Karpov was really gunning for him, or that Kazan even existed, and he was now being hunted by two very dangerous opponents. Yet Karpov had no idea Kita’s task force was out their either, as it was well beyond his own surface radar range, and his Blackbird had only just picked up Takami, while Kita’s ships were now between 75 and 130 nautical miles behind his leading picket.

Karpov also thought he was simply about to try and spear a slippery fish with his missiles. He knew Takami still had her potent SAM defenses, but he was unaware that they had replenished all their SSMs from the stores aboard Omi, and now had been restored to full inventory on all missiles.

“Mister Rodenko,” said Karpov. “What is their present heading?”

“Sir, they are running on 215 degrees, at 20 knots. They’re aimed right at us.”

“Interesting. That Seahawk of theirs must have spotted us as well. I could fire on it now, but their ship is fairly close, is it not?”

“About 35 miles west of the helo,” said Rodenko. “They might cover that with their SAM envelope.”

“Yes… So we’ll wait. That helo isn’t any threat, at least not to us. Since we’re data linked to Kazan, Gromyko knows it’s there and can act accordingly. Let’s just ease on in a little closer. I’ll get it in a moment. As for Takami, I’d prefer to use the Moskit-II system instead of our MOS-IIIs.”

“You could hit them now with the Moskit system if we use the lighter 250kg warheads,” said Fedorov.

“Yes, but I think we’ll get in closer, throw four Moskit-IIs and follow them with a Zircon Mos-III.”

“You expect them to let you close the range?”

“Well, have a look for yourself, Fedorov. They’re coming right at us. Brazen little bastards, yes?”

Karpov did not know it, but his hubris was leading him to make his first great mistake. He was unconcerned about being spotted, which was something he would have worked hard to prevent under any other circumstances. But he did not think Takami could hurt him, so why worry about being detected? He was already running with all sensors active, indifferent to any threat. Yet Fedorov seemed uncomfortable with this scenario, and Karpov turned, giving him a look.

“Something bothering you?” he asked his number one.

“This just doesn’t feel right….” Fedorov had a look on his face that Karpov had seen many times before. “Why would they be vectoring in on us like this if they had no means of hurting us? They have everything to lose, and nothing to gain.”

“Frankly,” said Karpov, “they can have only one thing in mind. First off, they’re just under 170 nautical miles out. So they probably think we can only hit them with the P-900s at the moment, and I’m betting they are assuming we have very few of those. They don’t realize we can modify the range of both our MOS-III and Moskit-II systems. We’ve got the extended range components in inventory, and I had them all mounted on the MOS-IIIs after that last engagement. So we’ve really got range on those missiles now, our premium strike weapon. That’s why I’d prefer not to tip my hand on them just yet, and hold those cards tight. So I’m thinking they may believe we have very few of the P-900s left. They’ve been counting heads too since our last engagement.”

“Correct,” said Fedorov. “We have only six left, but why would they court trouble with us here at all, under any circumstances? This doesn’t make sense.”

Karpov thought about that. “Yes, now that you say this, it does seem odd. Perhaps he was coming south to help defend Truk. Perhaps he’s just trying to thumb his nose at us.”

“To distract us away from another high value target,” said Fedorov, and that got Karpov’s attention.

“A carrier group?” That was the only high value target worth anything in Karpov’s mind. Fedorov’s suspicions had just hit pay dirt, though neither man had any notion of just where that suspected carrier group was, and what it was carrying.

“You think they may be planning another ambush… With a carrier group out there somewhere?”

“Why else would they be doing this? Why the direct radio contact? Why are they vectoring in on us now? I don’t like it.”

“Alright… If they did have a carrier group, where would it be?”

“North,” said Fedorov. “That ship is a key fleet defense asset. They would use it as a forward picket, and the carriers would be north. They could even have planes in the air at this very minute. We’re well within strike range of WWII carrier planes now.”

“But we can easily defeat such a strike,” said Karpov.

“Yes, but for a price. It will cost us more missiles.”

“I’ll hold all our longer range SAMs in that event, and just use the short range stuff. You may be correct here, Fedorov, but let’s wait a while, and see what they do. Kazan has likely turned, and Gromyko will be creeping up on them by now. He will be much closer, and he has the Zircon. That missile would get to them before they have a chance to react.”

“Got them!” Lieutenant Otani reported from her station on the SPY-1. “I have them bearing 262, on a heading of 47 degrees, at 20 knots. Contact reported by the Seahawk, sir. The Russian is emitting on everything: Fly Screen, Palm Frond, Roundhouse, Tombstone and Top Plate. I can even pick up his short and medium range fire control radars. He’s lit up like an American Christmas tree.”

“Excellent,” said Harada. “We’ve done our job. Miss Shiota, make sure Admiral Kita has that data, and it looks like the ball’s in his court now. Open that channel to Karpov.”

Harada smiled. He wanted to keep this fish on the line as long as possible, and decided to tell Karpov something plausible he might believe in this scenario.

“Ahoy Kirov,” he said over the com system. “I intend to pull every tooth you have if I can. So my bow is pointed right at you, and you can throw away as many missiles as you want. Our SM-2s are hungry this morning. Over.” He gave Fukada a smile, and the two men stood there waiting, arms folded, the tension rising. It was like waving your arms at a Grizzly Bear. Takami was going to play the lure as long as possible, hoping to rouse Karpov’s ire and get him to waste missiles. Seconds later, they got a rude alert.

“Sir, the Seahawk reports a vampire! They put a missile on it!”

Karpov had decided not to make the game so easy for the Japanese. He ordered up an S-400 and had it on its way, feeling just a little better now that his first missile had joined the argument with Captain Harada. The time for words was over.

Out on that Seahawk, the pilot had been up at 12,000 feet to get good radar coverage of the sea to the south, elated to finally spot their enemy. Then the missile warning jarred like a shock, and he knew he was in grave danger. Reporting the surface contact, he switched off his radars, toggled on any offensive ECM he had, and then dove. His helo was fairly agile as he desperately tried to avoid the missile, but it had already locked on and was not fooled. The S-400 ran true, and the Seahawk was dead ten seconds later…

Otani looked over at Harada, her eyes carrying the message plainly enough. “We lost them, sir. The Seahawk is gone.”

“Damn,” Harada swore, looking at Fukada. “That was one hell of a long shot. They must be packing the S-400 Triumf system.”

“We could even the score,” said Fukada. “Put an SM-3 on their helo.”

“That might feel good, but they have those damn Zircons, and the SM-3 is a good defensive weapon for that. At least our boys didn’t die in vain. We’ve got their location. Let’s hope Admiral Kita jumps on them. They just saw that helo go down too.”

Kita did see the Seahawk fall, and was none too happy about it. Yet now that they had Kirov’s position, he was going to get some payback. The F-35’s were up on the decks of Kaga and Akagi, and ready to climb for the clearing blue skies.

Kaga led the strike launches, allocating eight F-35’s armed with the GBU-53. Instead of sending three Shotai of three planes each, Kita opted to send two heavy Shotai, each with four planes, and hold one F-35 in reserve. The first, designated Kaga-1, would fly west, hopefully staying well out of range of the Russian helo’s radar, and then turn south to have their run at Kirov. Kaga-2 would fly a similar pattern, only moving east. Then Akagi followed by launching a SEAD package on one plane. Captain Yoshida would then set up a single Shotai of three planes, each one carrying four JSOW glide missiles. They would take a more direct vector on the contact, and all groups would attempt to coordinate their strike as they neared the target. It was a classic “Champagne” attack as the service called it, three groups with the two on the wings forward, and the JSOWs in the center slightly behind. All the pilots knew they were cleared hot, and would need no authorization from their home carrier to release their ordnance. Yoshida held the remainder of his planes in reserve for a possible second strike, which was always a wise precaution.

“Saturation,” said Admiral Kita. “Go get ‘em. If our planes get close enough to throw, that will put 64 GBU/53s in the air and 12 of the JSOW munitions all coming in at different angles to the target. Alright, let’s get the air defense ships out in front. Send to Kongo, and have them join Atago and Kirishima in a fan forward of our heading. The ship will come to starboard on 090. Signal Akagi to match our heading and speed. We’ll move off towards the Omi Group.”

The F-35B was capable of hovering and taking off vertically if required, and could also use the short flight deck. Built at great cost as a replacement for aging 4th generation fighters, it had seen increasing deployments in Western navies by 2021. Japan had a very few at the outset of the conflict, and Kita was quite fortunate to have so many here at his disposal.

The plane had been built as a strike fighter more than a dog fighter for the Navy. In early testing, many thought it would not have the agility to fight in close with even good 4th Generation fighters. In those engagements, it was built to rely on stealth and long range missile attack before it came to a dogfight. None of that was at issue here, and the plane’s outstanding ability to carry strike ordnance was now clearly evident.

Yet there were no fast ship killing missiles in the Western bag of tricks. Where the Russians relied on the lightning speed and range of a missile like the Zircon, and even the older Onyx (Moskit II) class missiles, the US Navy armed its planes with the Long Range Anti-Ship Missile, (LRASM), but the Japanese did not have any of those. Instead they would rely on a time-honored and well proven strike munition—the smart bomb. But unlike the dumb bombs carried by the planes of 1943, these weapons could be released 40 to 60 nautical miles from their targets, and they would glide into battle using infra-red and radar seeking capability, as well as inertial navigation.

The Germans had come up with a very similar idea, and they called it the Fritz-X, a radio controlled glide bomb that produced some dramatic results in the Med. The main difference was that the guidance was not on board the bomb, but in the plane that launched it. Kita’s smart bombs could be released, and left to their own devices. They would deploy small winglets, and begin their gliding descent from the heavens, like a rain of meteors, slow, silent and yet very deadly.

Now his birds were in the air, and so he would turn his carriers away from the action, taking them back to join Omi. The three escorting destroyers would adjust speed and charge forward to deploy their AA defense screen. Everything was up to the F-35’s, the best shot Kita had at putting some harm on Kirov. If the first wave failed, he still had planes ready for a second strike. For now, his strike was up and on its way at 08:30 hours, and Kirov was soon to be visited by some most unexpected adversaries in the skies east of Ponape.

Chapter 33

Harada was not happy about the loss of his Seahawk, but he thought they could not yet risk having one of the other ships send up a replacement. If the enemy saw a second helo, it would immediately raise a question as to where it could have originated. He knew the Russian helos would be able to see it did not come from his ship, and they were being very careful, keeping their helos well out of range of his SM-2 missiles, to keep an eye on things like that.

Yet the loss of aerial radar assist was a real liability. He turned to his XO, a question in mind. “Should we have Kita get up another helo?”

“Now or never,” said Fukada. “The Russian helos probably haven’t seen any of Kita’s ships yet. If Kita launches and our birds come in low, they probably won’t spot them either.”

“Alright, I’ll make the suggestion, but I suppose it will be up to the Admiral.” He had Ensign Shiota send a quick message requesting helicopter support, and advising low altitude approach until they were inside estimated Russian radar coverage zones. It was all a game of cat and mouse, as if chess might be played by allowing one player to move a piece while the other fellow wasn’t watching the board. That was the essence of modern combat at sea like this. Those that could see their enemy, could kill. At the moment, the score was even, each side had seen the other, but Karpov had more eyes in the sky, and the Japanese needed to match that capability.

The word was passed to Kongo on the forward defense line. She was in the center position, with destroyers flanking her some 25 miles to either side. Each one had a Seahawk, and Kongo got the nod.

At a little after 08:45 local time, Rodenko reported the KA-226, Blackbird, was running low on fuel. Karpov ordered it home, and had their last KA-40 launch to take its place and give him aerial radar coverage to the east. The other KA-40 was patrolling to the west. He also turned to approach Blackbird, hoping to close the range for it a bit and ease recovery.

Kita’s Kaga-1 Shotai was already well inside the radar envelope of the KA-40 to the west, but the Russians saw nothing. The inherent stealth of the F-35 was now another dangerous factor weighing heavily in the equation for the Japanese.

But both sides could play that game, and Captain Ivan Gromyko was continuing to make a very quiet approach to Takami as all this was going on. Kazan had picked up the Japanese ship’s position, prompting Gromyko to order an immediate turn to port. He had been cruising due west on a heading of 270 for the last half hour, running just above the layer. With his depth at 420 feet, he ordered Kazan to put on speed at 09:15, increasing to 28 knots.

The Captain’s intention was to get in as tight on Takami as he could before the other side might locate him. The closer he was, the less reaction time his enemy might have on defense, for his missiles were very fast. He was presently about 32 nautical miles from his quarry, and on a course to intercept, which he now adjusted slightly to account for the speed change. His Starpom, Lieutenant Commander Belanov, was at his side, the bridge quiet and serious, as it always was when Gromyko was present. They had been running in EMCON mode, having received the Takami’s location long ago from Blackbird before he went deep.

“We’re close enough to give them a shave,” said Belanov. “Those Zircons are quick.”

“True,” said Gromyko. “I could ruin their day right here and now, but if I get a little closer, inside torpedo range, all the better.”

Gromyko had the patience of a saint when it came to combat. He saw the Japanese Seahawk go down, and as far as he was concerned, Takami was already dead. They had no helo in the air that could bother him now, so as long as he stayed outside a ten mile range, they had no other ASW weapon aboard that could touch him. His own UGST Fizik-1 Torpedoes could reach out 22 nautical miles if necessary, though he preferred to fire them much closer in. So he was very close to his target now, creeping up like a cat about to spring on its unwary prey. He might have fired his RPK-7 torpedoes earlier, but being a rocket assisted weapon, that would have given up his position. If he wanted to do that, he’d use something much better. When he fired his cruise missiles, the enemy would know approximately where he was, but there would be little they could do about it, or so he believed at that moment.

As always, it was not what you knew, but what you did not know in modern combat that could kill you. Gromyko was still unaware that Kongo already had another Seahawk up, moving south at low elevation, and still unseen by either of Karpov’s KA-40s. Yet at the same time, the Japanese had no inkling that a modern Russian sub would be in the mix, and that helo had been loaded out for maritime surveillance. Now this three dimensional chess game was about to go from a sedate series of opening moves, to the heat and fire of the middle game. Karpov was leading by a pawn, but the Japanese had heavy pieces bearing down on him, and they were about to make themselves known.

Rodenko saw the data link from Blackbird on his screen, scratching his head. “Sir, new airborne contact, bearing 50 degrees northeast, range 175 nautical miles, speed 480.”

“480 knots?”

“Yes sir, and I have it on a direct heading to our ship—245 degrees.”

“Show me.” Karpov was hovering over Rodenko’s station, seeing the contact lit up in yellow. “That can’t be another helo off Takami.”

“No sir,” said Rodenko. “Their Seahawks can run at about 155 knots, so it has to be a plane.”

“Then they have a carrier nearby.”

“Wait just a moment!” It was Fedorov, that look on his face again, and Karpov was very lucky he had him on the bridge at that moment. “There’s no Japanese plane in their current carrier inventory that can make 480 knots. That’s almost 200 knots faster than their Zero fighters.” His voice was edged with warning, his eyes dark and serious.

“What’s out there, Rodenko?” Karpov had his eyes fixed on that contact, his voice prodding his radar man for more information.

“Contact reads class unknown. I have it at 36,000 feet, and steady at 480 knots.”

“That’s 4,000 feet above the Zero’s service ceiling as well,” said Fedorov.

“Could they have a new plane?” Karpov gave him a searching glance.

“The Nakajima C6N Saiun could fly that high, but sir, the speed. Rodenko is reporting 480 knots. The Zero was fast for this time, and never exceeded 350 knots, typically operating at about 280. The only plane that could approach that speed might be the Ki-84, the plane the Allies called Frank, but the first one didn’t come off the production lines until August of this year.” The F-35’s could double their present speed, but they were still cruising, hoping to get in unnoticed.

“This makes no sense….” Karpov could not grasp how the Japanese could have a plane that fast, and if there was a carrier out there, why would Rodenko only see a single aircraft? They typically launched in waves. He wanted more information. “Move Turkey 2 on a heading to intercept that contact.” He was going to have one of the KA-40s take a better look. “See if they can refine their information. Something is wrong here.”

“Damn wrong,” said Fedorov. “Unless….”

“What?” Karpov turned, his eyes hard on Fedorov, waiting.

“Suppose this Japanese destroyer had a jump jet on its aft deck?”

“Contact has closed to 125 miles,” said Rodenko.

Now Karpov was all business.

“Mark it hostile.” There was a hard edge to his tone. “We shoot first, and ask questions later. Samsonov—get me a firing solution on that thing.”

“Sir, I can put an S-400 on it now.”

“Do so, one missile. Let’s see what happens.” Then he turned to Fedorov. “Check your chronometers, or sun and moon data—whatever it is you do. See that we haven’t moved in time. That has to be a jet aircraft out there, and I want to know why. For the time being, I’ll buy your theory about a jump-jet on the fantail. It would have to be a Harrier, or even an F-35B. That’s the vertical takeoff and landing model, but let’s see what our missile does.”

The seconds ticked off as the S-400 streaked in at its target. It was the SEAD plane out in front of Akagi’s Shotai carrying the JSOW missile payloads. The S-400 was very good. It saw the target increase speed to over 620 knots and turn. The F-35 deployed countermeasures, decoys attempting to seduce the active radar seeker on the missile as it now closed for the kill. It had perhaps a 25% chance of succeeding, but the S-400 did not bite. It turned for the target, ran true, and exploded.

“Hit!” said Rodenko. “Target destroyed!”

Karpov smiled. “So much for their little surprise,” he said. “They must have launched that bird earlier, and sent it north of their position like that. Then this Harada got on the line and tried to play patty cake with me on the radio. A little theater here. I’m half tempted to call him again and see what he thinks now.”

Before Karpov had any more time to gloat, Rodenko sounded off with yet another string of contacts. They were on the same heading as the first plane, and now the little surprise became something more.

“Con, new airborne contact—same heading, speed 480, at 36,000 feet.” He gave Karpov an astonished look. “I’m reading three planes.”

Three brief seconds passed in Karpov’s mind, one for each of those planes. They rang the alarm in his head like a great hammer striking a bell. He might explain away one plane, a little secret harbored by Takami to throw at him like this, but he could not explain three planes. He passed the briefest moment, stunned by the report. Then the rush of adrenaline took over, and the synapses of his brain fired in response. He had lightning fast computers at his beck and call, but his mind had to process that signal first, and set the defensive abilities of the ship in motion. He did not waste another half second with speculation concerning his enemy, or worries over inventory on hand. Wheeling about, he looked Samsonov in the eye and said one word.

“Fire!”

The big CIC Chief knew exactly how to interpret that command, his own reflexes well-honed for battle. All the while, Grilikov, sitting at his side again like the devil’s adjutant, stared in wide eyed suspense.

Three planes, three targets, three missiles. Samsonov was quick to get his weapons keyed and on their way, the deadly S-400s. The development of the S-400 Triumf was in some ways a response to missiles like the American Patriot air defense system. The S-300 had begun that way as well, a land deployed mobile missile that would fire from a canister bearing four launch tubes. It was an excellent “denial of airspace” attack on intruding aircraft, but the S-300 had always been designed with naval deployment in mind, a perfect candidate for the vertical launch modules installed on big ships like Kirov.

The Russians had long ago claimed that they had a system in that weapon that could find, track, and kill 5th Generation stealth fighters like the F-35. Now it was about to be put to a real-time test. NATO called the missile the SA-21 Growler when it was first deployed in 2016. Later it would evolve as the worthy successor to the S-300 SAMs used by the Russian Navy, the Gargoyles to NATO, and be replaced by an even better missile, the S-500, which had not been widely deployed by the time war broke out in 2021.

For now, the Triumf was about the best SAM the Russians had, fast at Mach 7, and it could range out 215 nautical miles, with a blast fragmentation warhead that was like shooting a 12 gauge shotgun at a chicken at close range when it exploded.

There were no emissions coming from the planes, so Karpov could not be certain just what he had in front of him, but he knew it had bad intent, and he knew that Samsonov had done exactly the right thing in selecting that weapon. You always lead with your Ace.

“A nice little rat’s nest out there,” he said to Fedorov, amazingly cool given the shock they all just had.

“Yes sir, those have to be enemy strike planes—modern day equipment. But how?”

“Ours is not to reason why,” said Karpov. “Not now, not in combat. It’s kill or be killed at this moment, and I want to live.”

“Sir,” said Rodenko. “The KA-40 has sent a refinement. We’ve got a hot fix on those bogies! They’re reading as F-35B Lightning fighter jets!”

Karpov’s jaw clenched. Now, with his missiles on the way, he reached for an answer. “Fedorov? Have we moved? Are we still in 1943?”

“There’s been no observable change I can put my finger on,” said Fedorov. “The sun is up, and just where it should be.”

“Mister Nikolin… Can you pick up that station you’ve been listening to?”

“Aye sir. Radio Tokyo is still on the air.”

“Then what in God’s name is going on here?” Karpov looked at the screen, his eyes glued on the thin lines tracing the path of his S-400s towards the contact.

“The fantail on Takami could not hold anything more,” said Fedorov, seeming to be a hundred miles away now. “I’m damn sure we haven’t moved in time. No explanation, sir, unless our system is malfunctioning.”

“No time for a diagnostic.” said Karpov. “I’ll treat any further contact as hostile and act accordingly.”

Karpov was reacting on pure instinct, and his reflex was sure and steady. One part of his mind said this shouldn’t be happening, but then again, he and his ship shouldn’t even be there in 1943. Now something else clearly was there, and it was reading as a denizen of his own long lost future in 2021. He didn’t care how it came to be there, he would just fight it.

Seconds later the S-400s were beginning their terminal radar search. They began to eat away the last interval of space between the their warheads and those planes. This time, instead of one plane trying to spoof the oncoming attack, there were three, all deploying their decoys and turning at high speed. That improved the odds on defense considerably. Each missile had perhaps a 50% chance of getting a kill, but they all would roll good dice that minute, and all three would find pay dirt. The three explosions were clearly seen on Rodenko’ screen, and the odds on the Russians getting four planes like that so easily had been very long. They just got lucky.

“Targets eliminated!” said Samsonov, clearly pleased with himself.

Yes… They had been very lucky, getting to those planes just minutes before they would reach their release point on ordnance. Those three targets would have become twelve targets in a hot minute, but Karpov’s immediate reflex to fire had won him a big advantage. The centermost Shotai in Kita’s attack was gone, but there were still eight planes out there, one group due north, another coming in at a 45 degree angle, and neither of the KA-40s had seen them. They were just now reaching their maximum throw range on the GBU/53s, and they were about to open those weapons bays and let loose the dogs of war.

All hell was about to break loose.