Ironfall (Kirov Series Book 30)

by Schettler, John

  “Casualties were relatively light,” said Brooke. “We were lucky this one landed where it did, in an open park. Frankly, we’ve also been lucky that they haven’t visited us again. I’m afraid we’ll have to put the emergency protocols into effect now. I know you’ve grown quite fond of your bunker office, but concrete and earth only give so much protection against this sort of thing. It’s the radiation…”

  “Yes,” said Churchill. “The ghastly perfected means of human destruction; the monstrous child of our war technology has finally been born, and it seems we were the ones unfortunate enough to hear its first cry. Yes… Put the protocols in place.”

  That had to do with the scattering and dispersal of key government offices, personnel and vital records. Nothing could be centralized to a point where it might fall victim to one blow. The bomb that fell on Victoria Park was quite small, just a tenth of the size that the Americans used on Hiroshima in one telling of these events, but the fear it produced was of an equal nature, once it was fully understood what had happened.

  “We finally get air superiority, and then this damn thing gets through. I’m told it was delivered by a Zeppelin? Well, why in god’s name didn’t we get up after the damn thing. Surely we must have seen it plain and clear on the radar sets.”

  “It was seen,” said Brooke, “and tracked. We did have fighters up, but they couldn’t reach it. The Spits top out approaching 12,000 meters. This thing was up over 15,000 meters—50,000 feet.”

  “They dropped it from that high up?”

  “Apparently. The Germans have been experimenting with glide bombs. They used one effectively at Novorossiysk.”

  “Not all that effective if they had to send Admiral Raeder into the Black Sea. That said, the prospect of another great Zeppelin scare is already frightening. This time it will be an atomic Zeppelin bomber….” Churchill shook his head.

  “Concerning the Black Sea,” said Brooke, “the developments in the Caucasus have certainly changed things.”

  “Quite so,” said Churchill. “Sergei Kirov must be very relieved, yet he hasn’t buried the hatchet with Volkov yet. I suppose I can understand why after 20 years of hostility.”

  “He seems happy to let Orenburg get a good taste of what the German Army can do when its guns and tanks are put against you,” said Brooke.

  “Volkov has the devil to pay now.” Churchill shook a finger, forcing a smile. “Hitler is after his oil too, and he’s already got Maykop and Groznyy.”

  “It doesn’t seem like they’ll go any farther. That big Soviet offensive got their attention. And our interdiction of the Baghdad rail line in Syria and Iraq has had a good deal of success. They got another infantry division through to Baghdad, but we took out a big supply train yesterday. Air power, Winston, that’s the ticket. It’s a long way yet to Basra and Abadan. Frankly, I think Jumbo Wilson will hold, particularly after he gets the reinforcements we’ve sent. But this General Guderian certainly delivered the goods, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Unfortunately so,” said Churchill. “If General Wilson can hold him at bay, then we might be able to focus on finishing the job in Tunisia. What’s the holdup?”

  “The Americans teed up an operation that was largely successful—Operation Hammer. It forced the Italians to give up Mareth and retreat north. Then the rains set in, thick and heavy. General Eisenhower is hopeful they can make another big push soon, and the objective is to try and get to Tunis in May.”

  Churchill nodded. “Then it’s on to Sicily—possibly even Sardinia. Hopefully Jerry has no more Easter eggs to throw at us any time soon. They haven’t come again with that Zeppelin since the attack on Victoria Park. I wonder why? Nor have we had any word from them by way of a threat to repeat that attack.”

  “Bletchley Park thinks it was a prototype, a kind of macabre test to see if they could deliver the goods, and gauge its effects.”

  “Well they delivered alright,” said Churchill. “Ghastly… How is Whitehall taking this? I certainly hope there isn’t any talk of our surrender to this monstrous technology.”

  “Quite the contrary,” said Brooke. “It’s been stiff upper lip, but they certainly want to get moving with our own TA projects. Time seems to be running out. If this was a prototype, then the Germans know it works. Now their effort will be to increase the size and lethality of the damn thing, which is what really worries. It may not just be Victoria Park and the surrounding neighborhood that gets the blast next time. It could wipe out most of central London if they get one big enough.”

  “Then we need aircraft that can get high enough to stop their Zeppelins. It’s maddening that they can take technology from the turn of the century and mate it with this monstrosity of a bomb.”

  “There’s been work on getting a high-altitude fighter worth the name, as you well know. We did get modified Spitfires up as high as 45,000 feet over Egypt when Jerry was running those JU-86 Photo recon missions. They had to strip them down, adjust the engine compression, ditch fuel capacity, and swap out the 20mm cannons for lighter machineguns. They even put on wood propellers to lighten the load. The same sort of effort is being mounted here, with the Special Service Flight at Northolt. They’ve been working with Mark IX Spitfires. The guns tend to freeze up and jam above 40,000 feet, and the pilot needs an electrically heated flight suit, but the work is promising. It also takes a pressurized cabin and a better engine, but we can get up there. That new American fighter, the P-51, seems to be a good candidate for similar modifications, and then we have our other little secret project, the Meteor .”

  “The jet aircraft?”

  “Yes, but it will be some time, and I’m not sure of its specifications as yet. We’ll continue to look at defensive tactics to intercept their high-altitude attacks.”

  “Indeed,” said Churchill. “I might have a word with Miss Fairchild. They have weapons that might help us out in the short run. And while we’re at it, we must also consider a more proactive approach. We know where they have their eggs, at Peenemünde. RAF had better get after the place. We might even see if my Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare can do something about that facility.”

  Churchill was referring to the secret Special Operations Executive set up early in the war to conduct sabotage operations against the German war machine wherever they could find it. It was often called “Churchill’s Secret Army,” or went by names such as “The Baker Street Irregulars.” The Prime Minister preferred his own more colorful handle.

  “Getting at Peenemünde with saboteurs would be somewhat chancy,” said Brooke. “However, Bomber Command has a plan calling for a 600-plane raid. They were thinking to make a go of it in August this year, but that’s been moved up. The code is Operation Hydra. It’s all a part of the entire Operation Crossbow effort to disrupt their special weapons programs. Can you imagine what would happen if they got these atomic warheads atop a missile?”

  Churchill did not have to imagine it. He had been given a very detailed description of such an event by one Admiral John Tovey, who’s memory of all his many encounters with the ship they had once called Geronimo was now clarifying to an alarming degree. Tovey thought he was going right off his rocker at first, getting all these snippets of memories that seemed so real he could swear he lived them. But he knew at the same time that they had never happened… at least not in the life he had been living up until they emerged in his mind. That enterprising young Russian Captain Fedorov had a good long chat with Tovey, and now he finally understood what was happening to him.

  The Prime Minister also did not know that the Germans already had such a warhead mounted on a missile. The bounty of Kaiser Wilhelm’s little jaunt to the South Atlantic had delivered this nightmare to the Reich. They had used one of the two missiles mounted warheads they received, but as yet, they had not replicated the design with weapons grade materials of their own. So the danger was not as imminent as it seemed, but the British acted sensibly as if it was.

  Brooke was still rambling on. “We’ve
got conventional weapons in the works that we might use by way of retaliation, but they’re nowhere near the scale of the thing that hit Victoria Park. We estimate that blast was about 1500 tons TNT equivalent. One of our new Grand Slam bombs packs only 6.5 tons of explosive power, and we were going to roll out 50 in the first batch. Even if we dropped them all on one target, that’s no more than 325 tons of TNT.”

  “These dreadful atomic weapons will be the end of us, Brooke. If we can build one, will we dare use it, even against a madman like Hitler?”

  “Assuming we’re still here, we can revisit that question when we’ve got the damn thing.” Brook put a fine point on the matter.

  “Well, we need to find out just how advanced their program is at this stage,” said Churchill. “I had no idea they would be able to produce a real prototype this year.”

  “Nor did anyone else. But things are changing rapidly now. We’ll have to be on our guard. I’ll issue that order to put the special protocols in place, but I assume there will be no rousing speeches in Parliament or public statements concerning this incident.”

  “Right,” said Churchill. “Like a good boxer, you never want to let the other fellow know that he’s hurt you. But good lord, Brooke. I saw the last real cavalry charge mounted by the British Army at Omdurman in 1898…. Now this. Unfortunately, by the time you become aware that some ferocious new technology is in the works, it is already a clear and present danger. The nights are going to be a good deal more sleepless now. When Singapore finally fell after Montgomery packed up for Java, the Germans crowed that I was to be the undertaker of the British Empire. Well, with this development, the job title seems all the more probable.”

  “Now don’t get all gloomy,” said Brooke. “However, you’ll be traveling a good deal now, every few days according to the protocols.”

  “Every few days? How can I possibly get any work done hopping from one bunker to another like that?”

  “Oh, it won’t always be bunkers. We’ve singled out safe houses in out of the way places where Jerry would never think to waste a bomb. They’ll be a small bunker in the cellar, but otherwise a nice country cottage will serve well enough, and we’re rigging them all out with good communications equipment. It’s time you got a little country air anyway, isn’t it?”

  Brooke smiled, always one to lay on a cross of tasty frosting, even if the bun was burned….

  * * *

  Churchill summoned the Fairchild group to a secret meeting to discuss what had happened and consider defensive measures. The weapons possessed by Miss Elena Fairchild & Company were the Aster 30 missile system, with an operational ceiling of 20,000 meters, and a speed of Mach 4.5. With the Argos Fire sitting in the mouth of the Thames, it could see anything attempting to cross the Channel on its Sampson radar, and engage targets out to 120 kilometers, as far off as Dunkirk. From there it could also cover the whole of London, as far west as Oxford, or anything approaching the city from points north of Cambridge.

  In effect, they would easily see the approach of any Zeppelin hoping to get close enough to deliver another bomb, but the worry was that the Germans might attempt to use regular bombers for the job. That would complicate the defense, because even though the attacker would be exposed to the RAF fighters, there would be no way to know which bomber might be carrying the bomb. To protect the city, they would have to get them all, and that was an unlikely prospect.

  Yet defense against the high-altitude attack was at least something, until England could modify enough fighters to reach the 45,000 to 50,000-foot ceiling of the big German Zeppelins.

  “I am much in your debt,” said Churchill to Elena. “You and your intrepid destroyer have been of immense help. Your sonar work on the Atlantic convoy runs helped us at a time when we most needed it. The job you did at St. Nazaire helped chase those German naval raiders from our doorstep, and now you receive my thanks, and those unspoken from tens of thousands of Londoners, for this watch you stand over the city. Your radar alone is of immense help—much more accurate than our own systems, which must seem primitive.”

  “Primitive, perhaps,” said Elena, “but absolutely necessary. They are the foundation for all our own systems. Remember, my ship was built right here in the U.K.”

  “And what of this business at Gibraltar you mentioned? I understand you were doing some cave explorations beneath the Rock.”

  “Correct—at St. Michael’s Cave, and we found something most disturbing there, a fissure, deep beneath the cave.”

  “A fissure? Well, what is remarkable about that? The entire site if a network of underground caverns and tunnels, and we’ve added to them year by year with our own artisans.”

  “This fissure was something more,” said Elena. “It was both a physical and temporal rift, a disturbance of both matter and time….”

  That got Churchill’s attention. “Time? Please go on, Miss Fairchild. Explain.”

  “As I’ve related to you earlier, my ship is here because of a very special key that actuated a device we recovered from Delphi. We believe that both the key, and the device it engaged, were engineered in the future. In effect, they were engineered to displace matter in time, and the effect was limited to matter within a given radius of the device when engaged. Apparently, that radius was large enough to encompass Argos Fire.”

  “And why do you suppose your ship appeared here, in the 1940s?”

  “I think that was the work of the key we used. The device has apertures, all in the exact shape of the key—seven, to be precise.”

  “I see…. Then this explains why you are so keen to recover the key that was aboard our HMS Rodney —a fine old ship, and a pity we lost her.”

  “Yes, because I have it on good authority that the key aboard Rodney was associated with St. Michael’s Cave, and lo and behold, we find this temporal rift there.”

  “Temporal rift… I understand that in theory, but what does it mean?” Churchill took a sip of the brandy he was nursing.

  “Like any physical rift in stone, it can permit movement in time, like a gorge or passage through mountains that would be otherwise impassable.”

  “You know this to be a fact?”

  “I do.”

  “This is not speculation?”

  “No sir, I put men through this passage, and we thought we lost them for a time. Indeed, we did lose them, for they simply vanished. We even had one linked to our base team by a sturdy rope, but it was completely severed, as if something burned right through. I was considering how to proceed, when the two men finally returned, a full day later, and with quite a story to relate.”

  Churchill gave her a long look, waiting. “Well, come on, my dear woman. Get on with it. You certainly have a captive audience here, and there’s a good deal more brandy in that flask.”

  “To make a long story short, this fissure does, indeed, become a rift in time. They told us they climbed back out, only we were gone, our entire base force, and all the equipment we had brought in to excavate the place if necessary. So they made their way upwards, and out of St. Michaels Cave, only to find they were somewhere else. Not in space, mind you, but in time.”

  “Where?” said Churchill. Then he corrected himself. “When?”

  He took a long sip of brandy, his eyes gleaming in the wan light of the room.

  Chapter 33

  “The men were not entirely certain,” said Elena, “But we’ve done a bit of research to see if we could determine the date. One clue they brought back was quite unexpected.”

  “What was it?”

  “A rather nasty bug, and by that I mean disease. The men made their way up and out of the tunnels, finding Gibraltar to be a very different place. In some locations, the conditions were quite decrepit, particularly along Town Range. From all appearances, they thought they were back in the time of Victorian England. Well… There was trouble. A local officer got suspicious of my men, and they thought it best to make a hasty retreat. They were pursued, but their pursuers did not know the
tunnels as well, and took a wrong turn. My men laid low, then made their way back, eventually finding the bit of severed rope, which we threw back in the hopes that they might find it. They did, spying it with a torch, and that was a strong clue as to which passage to take. By following it, they were brought back to their point of origin, here in 1943.”

  “Astounding,” said Churchill. “And this nasty clue?”

  “Yellow fever. It took us a few days to identify it, but our medical people confirmed it, and that gave us a clue.”

  “The epidemic of 1804,” said Churchill. “There were small outbreaks along the Spanish coast in the late 1700’s and the turn of the century, particularly at Cadiz and Seville. The worst to hit Gibraltar was in 1804. If your man contracted the disease in that brief visit, I would assume it was rather widespread, as it was in that year. Over one third of the territory’s population succumbed to yellow fever.”

  “Well that’s as good a guess as mine,” said Fairchild.

  “I’ll caution that by saying the fever was quite common on the Rock all through that period. They came to call it ‘Gibraltar Fever.’ Well, I certainly hope your man recovered.”

  “He did, but there was one other clue we had some difficulty understanding. My men were on Town Range, near the officer’s quarters when they were spotted by a sentry. They overheard some between the officers—of an imminent invasion. They seemed quite alarmed.”

  “An invasion? Of the Rock? That doesn’t ring a bell for 1804.”

  “Not the Rock,” said Elena. “It was England that seemed to be the threatened place.”

  “I see…. Well this is all adding up,” said Churchill. “There was quite a stir over Bonaparte’s plan to cross the Channel. He had built an enormous fleet at Boulogne for that very purpose. In late 1804, he was there to rally the army that had been training for the attack. So that does seem to narrow down the date to 1804. There were further outbreaks of yellow fever on the Rock in the years after that, particularly in 1813, but there was no epidemic of fear concerning Bonaparte invading England in these years.”