Nemesis

by John Schettler

  “Don’t clutter you mind with that. I will give you a full briefing in the morning. Mister Fedorov will plot a course to the Kara Sea. There we will make a rendezvous prior to our mission to Vladivostok. Everything will be clear to you after our morning briefing.”

  He looked around, seeing the other men looking at him, and noting the uncertainty and surprise in their eyes. They were clearly anxious, and still more than a little confused. Lessons from the battle off Iki Island whispered to him now, and he knew he was going to have to rely on these men, and gain their loyalty and cooperation. So he spoke up, moving from man to man now.

  “Nikolin, I will be meeting with you in the morning as well, to go over some message protocols. We will be in regular contact with home based stations.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  “Mister Samsonov, I trust the ships weapons are in good working order?” He passed a moment there, remembering how it was Samsonov at the very end, the last straw when he stood and refused to obey his commands any longer. He could never allow that to happen again.

  “Aye sir, but we’re still quite heavy with those reloads. Martinov has been working them into the magazine, but it’s very tight.”

  “Excellent. Run me out a one page report on the current inventory—all systems please, right down to the deck guns.”

  “Aye sir. We’ve only fired that one missile from the Klinok system, full load on everything else.”

  “Excellent, but run the report anyway. And will you join me at my table for breakfast in the officer’s dining room?”

  “Me sir? Certainly sir. And thank you sir.”

  “Don’t thank me until you see what the chef puts out tomorrow!” He tapped the man’s brawny shoulder. “In fact, I’ll want the entire bridge crew present at 06:00 for the morning briefing. I’ll conduct it at breakfast. Rodenko, where is Mister Orlov?”

  “He’s below decks, sir. Seeing that the crew stays put, as the Admiral ordered.”

  “I see. Well then… I think I had better let the crew know something, and save them all a few bruises. Oh… one more thing. This man here is Sergeant Grilikov. He’s aboard with a special security contingent we’ve taken on for this mission. The fewer questions asked of these men, the better. It is a matter of state secrecy, as I’m sure you will understand. Tomorrow morning you will all learn more.”

  Karpov looked around, noting the men’s reactions and looking for any sign of trouble that he might need to tamp down early, particularly from Fedorov. For the moment, all seemed well. So he took a deep breath, slowly removing his leather gloves and taking in the bridge, a chorus of different emotions running through him now. These men had seen everything he had done, his darkest self, and in the end they had all betrayed him. The memory of how they stood, one by one, like rows of terra cotta warriors, frozen in their stony condemnation, was still a haunting reminder of how fickle they might be. Their service was not unconditional, he knew, their loyalty not something that he could buy, or beat into them with men like Orlov and Grilikov. That was the hardest lesson he had learned, and he would not make the same mistake twice. He could not afford to.

  Now he had what came to few men, a second chance to live the most challenging time of his life over again, and see it to a favorable outcome. He could not spoil that chance, or squander the tremendous opportunity that was now beneath his feet. These were good men here, capable men, brave men all. He knew that now, yet he also knew that they had not yet been forged in the fires of combat, and the months ahead would bring many hard moments. Not one of them knew yet what they had lost when sailing home this day, and not one knew what might be gained in its place. This would be their last night of innocence.

  Tomorrow they die, he thought, at least to their old selves, the men they were when this ship sailed into the Kola Bay. We shall see what I can make of them now, and what they become when they learn the truth. There is much they cannot know, the whole long, sad tale. I must prune that tree and give them only what they need to know to come to grips with this new reality, and the long sea route through the Arctic channel will be the time for them to all learn what has happened. For now…

  He eyed the Captain’s chair, walking over slowly to place his hand on the seat, an old habit, for he always checked to see that it was cold before he took his place there, with no remnant of another man’s warmth. It was pleasantly cool to the touch, and he smiled, knowing that he would never have to stand in Volsky’s shadow again, or wait to take his place in that chair. Then he sat down, savoring the moment as he might savor a sip of the finest wine or brandy, a smile on his face. Slowly, he reached for the overhead intercom handset, and thumbed the switch.

  “This is the Captain,” he said in a strong and clear voice. It was not the Admiral speaking now, nor the Viceroy of the Western Oblasts of Free Siberia, but the Captain, and no man ever exulted more in a seeming demotion than Karpov did at that moment.

  He had gone into the tumult of the sea, falling deeper into ruin than most men ever could, and he was devoured by the beast of his own ambition. Long days he languished in the belly of that beast, a misery of his own making, just as Jonah had when swallowed by the behemoth. Yet he was spewed from the belly of the beast, and found new life, also a life of his own making, and even in the face of utter annihilation, he had survived and overcome the battle with fate itself.

  Now here he was in the temple again, the holy bridge of the battlecruiser Kirov. It was his temple, and he was its grand high priest, this he knew, and no one would ever take that from him again.

  He smiled.

  *

  It was a very hard night for Fedorov. He plotted the course to the Kara Sea, and the ship departed, the sound of distant artillery fire still the muffled edge of uncertainty in the gray of the Arctic night. It was the same route they had taken after their first meeting there at Murmansk with Sergei Kirov. Then they had gone out at Admiral Golovko’s behest to chase away an impudent German raiding party, dueling with the pocket battleship Admiral Sheer. Where were they going this time? What did Karpov mean to do?

  They were going east, that much he knew, to Vladivostok. That could only mean one thing. The Japanese controlled that port. None of the men knew it, but Karpov certainly did, and the course he now set for the ship was sure to bring them into conflict again with Imperial Japan. Was the Captain still set on setting right the mistakes he made in the past? Was he holding some grand vision of restoring Russia as a Pacific power, and rolling back the encroachment of the Japanese Empire?

  The days ahead would be very dangerous. Japan was now preparing to enter the war, and at the height of its naval and military power. They would sweep all before them, raging across the South Pacific with one victory after another. Within six months the empire would expand until it reached the stubborn shores of Guadalcanal. It was there the U.S. Navy would draw the line, and then the real war would begin for Japan.

  Yet something told him Karpov had other plans for His Imperial Highness in Tokyo, for Tojo, and Yamamoto, all the men who inherited the power forged by the great naval victories of Admiral Togo. What was he planning. Certainly Kirov was a formidable power at Sea. They had come unseen out of the Timor Sea, and right into the midst of a major Japanese offensive operation in the Coral Sea, and virtually wrecked the entire left pincer of that force.

  Yet even with the magazines burgeoning with missile reloads, the Japanese Navy was no foe to underestimate. They had six fleet carriers that could carry over 60 aircraft each, and four more light carriers. There were eleven battleships, including the ship he had personally fought, Yamato, and her sister ship Musashi would soon join the fleet as well. Their naval aviation Corps was second to none, with over 1500 well trained pilots. And they would fight, relentlessly, with a determination and endurance that was rarely seen in any fighting force of the world.

  How could Karpov hope to challenge such a powerful navy, even with the technical superiority Kirov possessed? Was he counting on the one weapon that had fi
nally seared and destroyed Japan’s will to continue the war, the nuclear fire of an atomic bomb? What nightmare was he planning to unleash upon this unsuspecting world? How could he, now a lowly ship’s Navigator, prevent what he saw looming to the east?

  I have to get control of this ship again, he thought darkly. We did it twice before, and perhaps we can do it yet again. Yet now, his chief ally and support was gone with the removal of Admiral Volsky from the equation. The thought Volsky was out there was one small comfort to him. If he could get that Key to Admiral Tovey…

  He could not think on that now, his mind frantically running down his options here. Karpov had come aboard with a strong contingent of security men, all clad in those sable black uniforms with dark fur caps. And their leader, this Sergeant Grilikov, was a sight to behold, well over six feet tall, solid muscle, a neck thicker than his own thigh, and a foul temper to make that brawn very troublesome. If Orlov was bad, this Grilikov was worse by far!

  I’ve no allies here yet, he thought grimly, though I know the men who would eventually stand up and resist Karpov’s megalomania. Doctor Zolkin might hear me, if I can convince him of what has happened. Yet now he suspects I’m borderline psychotic! It was all I could do to convince the Admiral, and what could Zolkin do in this situation? He stood up to Karpov before, a moral counterpoint to the Captain’s ambition, and yet look what Karpov did on the bridge at the end…

  Nikolin was sympathetic. He had been a part of the subtle conspiracy that had led to the Captain’s fall. It was he who discovered that order from Volsky, and secretly spread the word to the other bridge officers. Rodenko is reliable, and clear headed. I might find an ally there. And then there is Sergeant Troyak and his Marines.

  He passed a moment thinking about that. Troyak was essential in their effort to foil Karpov’s first attempt to take the ship. Now Karpov had done the very same thing, and apparently succeeded, in a strange echo of their first coming to these troubled waters. If there was any man aboard who might stand against this Grilikov, it would be Troyak, and the modern Day Black Death he commanded was a lethal force, though they would be outnumbered on the ship three to one by Karpov’s security men. What to do here? He realized that he was in the early stages of planning a mutiny against perhaps the most dangerous man in the world. Would it eventually come to that, and end up in a desperate gun battle right here on the ship between the Black Death and the sable coated storm troopers protecting Karpov?

  At the moment my situation is still very precarious, he thought. Note how Karpov tested and taunted us in Severomorsk when he first appeared. Everything he said was perfectly comprehensible to me. Thank God Volsky reacted as he did. If Karpov ever learns that I really know everything that has taken place…. He shuddered to think what might happen, and to realize that his own life was dangerously at stake now if he set himself on this path.

  Yet he could see no choice. He knew what was coming in the days ahead, and if he did not find a way to stop Karpov, God only knew what might happen when he reaches the Pacific with this ship.

  Where to start?

  Nikolin. Begin slowly. Nikolin is going to be privy to all signals traffic to and from the ship. I can use him to find out what Karpov might be planning. I may even be able to convince him to send out another coded message to Tovey. I don’t know what the British could do in this situation, but they do have assets in the Pacific, at least they will until December when the Japanese attack.

  Strange how, in this world, the effects of our first coming have been completely washed away. Oddly, that is because none of it would have happened yet. We’re just a few days past that arrival, and already this history has changed again. There will be no run through the Denmark Strait, no duel with the Royal Navy, no atomic fire in the North Atlantic. The only remnant of any of that is the queer persistence of those two file boxes, and the lingering memories in my own head, along with the same recollections that Admiral Tovey was struggling to recall. The real damage that has twisted this world happened back in 1908. My careless whisper, and Karpov’s ambition, was the undoing of everything. I could lay some of that blame at Orlov’s feet, but what does that matter?

  The situation seemed hopeless now, and then he remembered Gromyko. I wonder what happened to Kazan, he thought? We vanished right in the middle of that engagement with the Germans. Kazan had gone out on point to try and protect Rodney. Was it still here? I could use another of our coded protocols to see if I could contact Gromyko, yes, I mustn’t forget about Kazan.

  He turned all of this over and over in his head, far from sleep, and yet very weary with the stress of these last three days. I finally convince the Admiral, and now he’s gone. Who knows whether Volsky will get away as I hope, and deliver that key to Admiral Tovey. Who knows what those keys even mean in all of this? In the meantime, here I am, a secret knowing spy aboard Karpov’s ship of nightmares, and a good chunk of the fate of this world, and the outcome of this war, is now sitting squarely in my lap. It’s down to me now, and time I atoned for all the damage I’ve done here—even if it kills me. Am I ready to die for what has to be done here? Would my death even matter if I don’t first succeed?

  It was going to be a very long night, and the moon that was once his only comfort and anchor to tell him where they were, was now a cold and mocking presence in the clear arctic skies.

  Part IX

  Onslaught

  “War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”

  ― J.R.R. Tolkien: The Two Towers

  Chapter 25

  Operation Typhoon was conceived on the 1st of August, even as Karpov and Sergei Kirov struck their fateful bargain in the Kremlin, and the Siberian raced north to Murmansk, arriving late the following day to spring his trap. In doing so, the Germans were considering the next phase of operations beyond Barbarossa, which would be deemed complete once certain final objectives were secured. Army Group Center was still preoccupied with the taking of Smolensk and the opening of the main highway and rail line to Moscow, a battle that had cost the Wehrmacht two long and valuable months. Now, with Typhoon conceived as a bold thrust on two fronts, Smolensk still remained in Soviet hands, and it remained to be seen whether they could make it the bulwark of defense that had so unhinged the German advance earlier.

  Soviet losses had not been as bad as in the history Fedorov might quote, but they were still staggering. All of Belorussia, and half of the Ukraine, had been devoured by the juggernaut of the advancing German Army. Losses to infantry, the stolid, slow moving line holders, were particularly severe, though with foreknowledge of how the Germans would advance and fight, Sergei Kirov had ordered most of his precious mechanized formations held in reserve.

  Barbarossa had three primary objectives, the large industrial centers of Minsk in the center, Kiev in the middle south, and control of the southern bank of the Dnieper all the way to the Black Sea. Notably absent from that list was any drive planned for Army Group North, aimed at Leningrad. That formation was largely infantry now, tasked with occupying the line of the Dvina River, and securing a few bridgeheads there in the event future operations in that sector were contemplated. The movement of Manstein’s 56th Panzer Korps to the Smolensk attack left the Army Group toothless, with little offensive power, and so it simply took up strong defensive positions.

  So in the north, the Russians still held the line of the Dvina River from Riga to Vitsyebsk, until the Germans pushed them out of the latter on August 5th. Near Leningrad, the Finns and a few German divisions had pushed over the border, driving south, but they met a wall of solidly fortified positions as they approached the city, and it was soon clear that they would not break through. Leningrad would therefore not endure the dreadful thousand day siege, encircled on every side, and instead would become an arsenal of both troops and equipment that could be sent south. It was
the one bright spot in development insofar as STAVKA was concerned. Kirov was grateful to have at least one front, and the major industrial center of Leningrad, secure. But the threat mounting in the center, and particularly in the south, was still very serious.

  Launching May 15th, all these initial objectives outlined for Operation Barbarossa were attained by mid-July, and now planners spread the battle maps for phase two of the invasion, the final objectives of the massive storm of men and arms Hitler had thrown at Russia. New objectives were tapped by the planners at OKW, aimed at securing Smolensk, and the industrial cities of Kirov and Bryansk. Army Group Center would do the real work here, with two strong Panzer Armies, and the 4th, and 9th Armies comprised of mostly infantry formations. Once these objectives were encircled and reduced, the issue of whether or not to mount a bold drive on Moscow would then be discussed.

  Hitler first thought it would be unnecessary, believing that the Soviet Union had to be defeated by destroying its economic and industrial capacity. Give me their coal mines and factories, he said, and what will they do? How could they continue to prosecute the war? The notion that the Russians would literally dismantle their factories and move them a thousand miles east to the Siberian Ural district had never entered the Fuhrer’s brain, and so when the issue of an attack aimed at Moscow was first raised by Army Chief Walther von Brauchitsch, Hitler had batted it aside with a derisive remark: “Only ossified brains could think of such an idea.” He had wagged a finger at the wizened German General, explaining that he needed to learn the economics of war.

  The oil and resources were not in Moscow, but in the Ukraine, in the Donets Basin and Donbass regions, and in the Caucasus. This is where Hitler wished to concentrate his major effort, ordering his new favored General Manstein to cross the Dnieper and quickly seize the Crimea to prepare the way for the planned invasion of the Caucasus.