Hammer of God (Kirov Series Book 14)

by John Schettler

  “Other keys? Definitely. Other boxes? I’m not sure on that.”

  MacRae folded his arms, dark brows lowering as he looked at her. “So what about these other keys. Let’s start with that.”

  “I don’t know how many there are,” she said. “Or even where they are, but I know there are more. We had one other in our possession, but it was lost.”

  “We? Who are you speaking of.”

  “The Watch—the group I was a member of, a very secret organization within the highest tiers of the Royal Navy. Alright, you can look out that port hole there and what do you see? That damn Russian battlecruiser, and, believe it or not, we knew about it before the ship arrived here, because this isn’t the first time we’ve had dealings with it…. Or is it?” She rubbed an eyebrow now, thinking, a perplexed look on her face.

  “What I mean to say is that the Royal Navy first encountered that ship in the summer of 1941.”

  “Summer? It’s March here, Elena.”

  “Correct, but that ship was not encountered until late July of 1941, in the Norwegian Sea. It was Admiral Tovey who had the pleasure of trying to sort out the mystery when it first came on the scene, and he was still Admiral of Home Fleet a year later when it appeared again.” She shared the story with him in more detail, telling him of that second ‘incident’ in the Mediterranean Sea, and how the ship vanished again just as it reached the Island of Saint Helena.”

  “Very strange,” said MacRae.

  “Yes, well when that ship reappeared off the coast of Australia a day later, Tovey eventually concluded that the ship had to be moving in time, as there was no way it could physically move from Saint Helena to the place it appeared next within that interval, some 24 hours. So there was that ship, moving in and out of our history, like a phantom, and raising considerable mayhem every time it appeared. Meeting that Admiral Volsky, and that young Captain Fedorov of theirs, put a human face on the demon. You see, the Watch was established to stand guard against any future appearance, but this time the Russians fooled us all, and they dropped in well before that first incident in July of 1941. That was quite a twist, but the odd thing has been these artifacts that persist here in this time, evidence from those earlier incursions. It’s mind boggling.”

  “And what does it all have to do with those keys and that bloody box?”

  “The keys… Yes… Well I was more than a Watchstander. I was also a Keyholder. There were others, or so I was told, and there would come a day and hour of grave emergency when the keys were to be used. At that time I was to be given specific coordinates, and I was to go there and utilize my key.”

  “You mean Delphi? Then your superiors in this organization knew about that place?”

  “Apparently so, and there were others—other places like Delphi in the world. How many there were, I don’t know, but we did have one other key once, until it went missing. It was found long ago, by a man named Thomas Bruce, the 7th Earl of Elgin, in 1801.”

  “Elgin? The same fellow who made off with those Greek statues?”

  “The same fellow. He was trying to simply document the remains of the Parthenon Marbles, but his ardor for the subject soon compelled him to remove a good portion of the marbles and bring them to Britain. They’re still in the British Museum, in the Duveen Gallery, and as strange as this may sound, a key was found embedded in the base of one particular piece recovered by Lord Elgin—the Selene Horse.”

  “Well how in the world did it get there?” MacRae asked the obvious question.

  “That we don’t know. In fact, we weren’t even aware that it was anything of importance. It was an oddity, to be sure. What would an old key like this be doing in marbles dating to the time of the ancient Greeks? Who put it there, and why, was a mystery, but we later found out that it was quite significant, something to be guarded very carefully, and kept very secret.”

  “You found that out? How?”

  “We were told about it by others who knew.”

  “And who were they?”

  “We aren’t sure.”

  MacRae rolled his eyes. “Well this cricket ball just keeps getting batted all over the field, doesn’t it. I don’t understand.”

  Elena sighed. “Yes, it’s all very confusing. Do you remember I told you about those signals we were sent—with information that predicted events that had not yet happened.”

  “Ah, yes, that tip off on the World Trade Center attack, and that information on the stock market.”

  “Correct. Well, that was when we realized the information could not be coming from anyone in our time. No one could predict the events that were described that accurately, and so we came to the only conclusion possible—that the information was being sent from the future. Well then, we received information concerning these keys as well. They were apparently hidden away for a reason, because it seems there are other places like Delphi in the world.”

  “You mean with hidden chambers like the one we uncovered?”

  “Yes, but that was all we were told. The keys would open doors, and a day and hour would come when they must be used. That was all we learned.”

  “What about the other key. What was it to be used for?”

  “The key we found in the Elgin Marbles? We never discovered that, because it was lost, in May of 1941, the 27th of May, to be precise.”

  “You know the exact day it was lost? How is that?”

  “Because at that time some of the Elgin Marbles were being moved to safety in the United States, along with a considerable amount of gold bullion. They were loaded onto the battleship Rodney, which was scheduled to sail for an American port to have an extensive refit. She had boiler tubes crated all over her decks at that time. Well, then the Germans got in the back door with the sortie of the battleship Bismarck. The urgency of that chase forced the Admiralty to pull old Rodney off its leave and get the ship into the hunt. It eventually joined with King George V in that final battle that stopped the Bismarck for good. But when those 16-inch guns fire they have quite a kick, or so I’m told. I suppose Admiral Tovey could tell us more, but the fact is that when the Rodney eventually did reach her port berthing at Boston, it was discovered that the key embedded in the Selene Horse had gone missing.”

  “Missing? Then we were trying to get the key to a safe port, and it was filched en route?”

  “We aren’t sure what happened to it. We only know it was there, imbedded in the base of the Selene Horse when Rodney set off from the Clyde, but it was missing when the ship reached Boston. Things were jostled around quite a bit in the course of that battle with Bismarck. Several of the crates were tossed about, and some broken. A chink came off the Selene Horse, right where that key was hidden. Oh, they searched the ship from top to bottom, very discretely, and we had people interviewing the whole crew, but it was never found. There are things about that incident that history does not record, but we knew about them. It’s a nice little mystery, isn’t it? So there are other keys out there, Gordon, and yes, they may open other hidden doors, or even other little boxes like the one we found at Delphi. And they may lead to some very unexpected places. This is all we know.”

  “Interesting,” said MacRae.

  “Yes, and now that I’ve got your curiosity up with my own, I was wondering something—whether that chamber under Delphi is still there.”

  “You mean you don’t know when it was built?”

  “Not at all. In fact, I’m not even sure it exists in this go round—in this world where we find ourselves now. But this damn key of mine exists, and for every key there’s a locked door out there somewhere. I wonder…”

  “Well you could satisfy yourself,” said MacRae. “Delphi isn’t very far away.”

  Part IX

  Stalemate

  “Courage is in the air in bracing whiffs

  Better than all the stalemate an's and ifs.”

  — Robert Frost

  Chapter 25

  King Column approached along a road scouted by Glubb Pasha’s m
en, arriving at the outskirts of Palmyra from the southeast, with the Arab Legion screening their left flank. There was a dry, desiccated basin south of the town, but very sandy in places, and it was deemed unsuitable for the heavier British trucks. The lighter Fords used by Glubb Pasha’s men could get through, and the Bedu scouts had a keen sense of the ground. They found the way through, tangled briefly with the Germans, and then withdrew to a position just south of the sprawling Palm groves.

  King Column came up, with the three squadrons of the Composite Cavalry Regiment leading the way in their swift lorries. They still retained their old names, the Royals, Lifeguards, Blues, and Grays, the latter being with Colonel J.S. Nichols and the main column, still designated ‘Habforce.’ Behind the cavalry, the full Essex Battalion was deploying from their lorries, taking up positions in the farm country and lighter groves to the southeast of the town, four companies in all.

  They would soon be joined by Habforce, with two full battalions of motorized infantry, the Wiltshires and Warwick. It also had another two batteries of 25-pounders, an AT troop, and the Number 2 RAF Armored Car Company from the airfield garrison. The battalion of the King’s Own Rifles was still gathering necessary transport and awaiting elements of the 21st Indian Brigade to relieve them at the airfield, but they had received Somerset’s urgent message asking for additional support, and they were getting ready to move.

  Habforce had been angling down on another road from the northeast that passed through a lonesome village named Arak. A telephone line connected this hamlet to the T3 facility, and Brigadier Joe Kingstone was pleased to hear Nichols on the phone with news that the lead elements of his column were in Arak. But both men were still none too happy to hear about the sudden appearance of German troops at Palmyra.

  “Looks like we’ll have a fight on our hands,” said Kingstone. “We aren’t sure just what we’re looking at, but the Russians there seem to think Jerry has a full regiment.”

  “The Russians?” came Nichol’s voice. “What in blazes would they know about it?”

  “It’s a long story,” Kingstone explained, “and not one for the telly. We have an advanced force there now holed up in the fortress overlooking the town.”

  “A good position. They can clue us in on Jerry’s movements and deployments, but I expect they’ll need our help soon.”

  “That they will. Glubb Pasha is somewhere south of the town, but I don’t think his force is any match for the Germans.” Kingstone didn’t say what he was really thinking, that his own force might be no match for the Germans either, even with all of Habforce thrown in.

  “Better if we all get sorted out and go in together,” said Nichols.

  “That’s my thinking,” Kingstone agreed. “We’ll meet soon.”

  Nichols pushed his men hard, and Habforce came rumbling up the long road to the T3 pump station on the 20th of March. The Number 2 Armored Car Company led the way, followed closely by the Warwick Battalion. By mid day they had passed an undefended blockhouse outside a fringe of the town, and deployed to attack. The riflemen hunched low as they worked their way across some cultivated land just outside the town. Then the BAR fire from the French Foreign Legion began, and the fighting was on.

  The British went to ground, immediately answering with their Bren guns, and brisk rifle fire. The French had the advantage of better positions in the town, with stone and mud walls, but the British had greater numbers. The typical British Infantry battalion had four companies instead of only three, and soon they were deploying their heavier Vickers MGs to put down good suppressive fire while the infantry made a steady advance into the town. It was house to house fighting, but weight of numbers eventually forced the Legionnaires back, particularly after the Wiltshire Battalion came up and also deployed to attack this sector.

  While this was going on King Column had pushed the Essex Battalion up a road skirting the east edge of the palm groves, to a position between the groves and the town. It led directly to the ruins of the Temple of Bel near Wolff’s headquarters in the Amphitheatre, and here the fighting was give and take. The four companies of the Essex Battalion pressed forward against Wolff’s III Battalion, only to be counterattacked by the German reserve Schwere Company.

  The Household Cavalry, three Squadrons in all, came up on the left and got embroiled in a bitter fight, again finding the Germans made sharp, local counterattacks backed by the reserve Schwere or Heavy company that had been detached from the 1st Battalion watching the airfield. At one point the Royals came under heavy fire from the MG-34s and fell back, but many men retreated the wrong direction into the thick palm groves, and soon found themselves cut off behind German lines.

  “It’s those damn heavy weapons teams,” said a Sergeant. “We’ve nothing to match them, and not nearly enough artillery with us to settle the matter.”

  The Germans Schwere Company fielded the heavier 81cm mortars, many more machineguns, and 7.5cm recoilless rifles that were proving very effective on both attack and defense. The British would press doggedly forward with their rifle teams as the Vickers MGs put in supporting fire, then they would be hit by four or five well directed MG-34s, and well aimed fire from those recoilless rifles. The Germans had only two batteries of artillery, pooling all the guns that had survived the KA-40 attack the previous night, but they still had plenty of mortars. With numbers equal on this front, it was the greater firepower inherent in the German TO&E per company that was making the difference.

  By dusk, after a hard day of fighting, King Column had made little headway, and they had also lost contact with a company of the Cavalry Regiment, the Royals.

  Near dusk on the 22nd of March Troyak called for Fedorov, leading them up to the south tower for a look at the road to the west. “Look there,” he pointed. “That looks like a motorized column, and a big one.” It was.

  They were seeing the last elements of the 22nd Luftland Division, the troops of the 16th Regiment that had been held in reserve at Homs. The attack made by Kazan on the rail station at Istanbul had gone off without a hitch, but it had come too late to stop the rapid deployment of German troops into Turkey. The 9th Panzer Division had arrived at Rayak, along with other Korps level units, and von Wietersheim decided to send a reinforcement to Palmyra at Wolff’s request. If the British thought they were having trouble with just one regiment of German troops there, this new development would make it all but impossible for Brigadier Kingstone and Habforce to take the place as planned.

  “Life is what happens to you after you make your plans,” said Fedorov in a low voice. His mission had sounded exciting in the beginning, just a little Spec Ops icing on the cake he thought the British already had in the oven. Now he realized his foreknowledge of the history had led him to be overconfident. Yes, Kingstone’s force should have been more than enough to take Palmyra against the single weak battalion of the French Foreign Legion. Yet even against that small force, it took them twelve days. He should have realized that victory here would come at a much greater price, or be beyond their grasp the instant he saw those German troops appear.

  “This changes everything,” he said darkly. “I don’t think the British can win this now, and it may even come down to a question of whether or not they could hold off a German counterattack. We had better get word to Kinlan at once, but I don’t think we can discuss things on the radio.”

  “We still have the KA-40 standing by in those hills,” said Troyak. “They’ve enough ammo on the minigun to cover an extraction and get you safely aboard, sir.”

  “Not just me, Sergeant. I think we had better get the entire team out of here. Our ammunition is already running low, and I don’t think we can hold on here much longer. They have numbers to take this place by storm if they press the issue. Our firepower is the only thing that has held them at bay—that and the appearance of the British to the east.”

  “What about the X-3s?”

  “They’re coming, but there was a delay pulling the Argonauts out of the line back west. Things h
ave been hot on that flank, and they were waiting for British reserves to come up. Let’s at least warn Kingstone by radio. Then I’ll arrange a meeting, but we’d best plan for an extraction operation tonight.

  The news was not well received.

  “This is a damn sight more than we bargained for,” said Kingstone on the radio, angry with the day’s developments, and over the losses they had sustained. Habforce had made some progress, forcing the French back into the main town, but the battle was far from decided. The only good news that night was word that an additional battalion, The Kings Own Rifles, had left Habbaniyah that afternoon and might arrive the following day.

  “But one more battalion on our side won’t match another regiment, if that’s what they have on the road out west. I agree. We’ll have to conference and decide what to do.”

  Popski got on the radio and urged Kingstone to make one more try before the enemy reinforcements arrived. He asked if Nichols column might jog to his right and try to swing down on the airfield from the north.

  “Look here,” he said. “We’ve been watching Jerry for days now, and he’s shifted most of his strength south against your column. There’s no more than a company or two holding the field and points west. Don’t beat your head against the Legionnaires in the town when you can swing right around them. There’s nothing on that northern flank but the Desert Camel Company.”

  It was good advice, and could only be given because Fedorov’s move to occupy that high fortress put them in an ideal position to monitor the German troop movements. So now, with the imminent arrival of the Kings Own Rifle Battalion under Colonel Roberts, the British might have enough strength building up northeast of the town to take that advice, and Nichols agreed. The lead was handed off to the eight Fordson Armored Cars of No. 2 Company, RAF. They swung north of the hospital, between the Desert Camel Company that was mostly positioned along a narrow wadi as a flank guard. Yet the news of the strange sounds in the sky had unnerved these men, and they were less than diligent.