At that moment there was a soft buzz at the secure door and Leyman turned to give the Marine guard the nod. The door whisked open and a White House staffer rushed in, leaning close and whispering in Leyman’s ear. His expression darkened immediately, and he dismissed the aide with a grave nod. When the room was secure again he turned to the others and folded his hands on the table.
“Well gentlemen, it appears the Admiral is correct about that Boomer hunt. A few minutes ago there was a missile launch off the West coast. Your people will have this information by now, Admiral, but to make a long story short, there’s been a detonation…”
He let that hang there for a moment, his eyes looking from Ghortney, to Lane, to Reed. Then he qualified his statement with the word no one wanted to utter in that room, but one that was in the back of each man’s mind.
“It was a nuclear detonation, and apparently the whole west coast is as dead as a doornail.”
“What?” Lane was practically out of his chair. “How many warheads? How many cities did they hit?”
“They didn’t hit any cities,” Leyman explained. “It was a single warhead. The detonation was well up in the atmosphere over Nevada, and everything from Seattle to San Diego went dark.”
“A single warhead,” said Reed looking at Lane with an ‘I told ya so’ in his eyes. “A goddamned EMP strike.”
“That appears to be the case,” Leyman went on. “The whole power grid is down. Hoover Dam is off line, Glen Canyon, a number of others. The grid is down and the blackout extends as far east as the Rockies in places. I’ve got to see the President at once, and this puts us at DEFCON 1, does it not?”
“Cocked Pistol,” said Lane reciting the code name for the highest condition of strategic alert. “Maximum readiness with an expectation that nuclear war is imminent.”
“That’s what I thought,” said Leyman. “Well if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, we’ll have to continue this briefing after I bring in the President. If we are now holding that cocked pistol it will be his finger on the trigger, and damn soon unless we make some other arrangements with the Russians and Chinese.”
He stood up, buttoning his suit coat in a gesture that somehow seemed out of place. It was a small habitual civility; well practiced decorum, yet outside the secure underground bunker the world was about to go ballistic.
“Arrangements?” Ghortney gave Lane a look of chagrin.
“That’s what we do in the civilian branch, Admiral. We make arrangements. Hold tight, gentlemen. The President is on his way here now.”
* * *
Controlled chaos was the order of the day on the streets of the City—barely controlled chaos. Every traffic light in the city was dead, but that didn’t really matter because every car was dead! The traffic was backed up for miles on the tortuous bends of the Bay Area freeways. People had no idea what had happened for the most part, as there were no radios functioning either, and so their first reaction was to reach into their pockets for a cell phone, but they were all dead as well. Within minutes thousands were out of their cars, basically exchanging versions of the very same story. They were just driving along when the car seemed to lose all power. There were scores of accidents, hundreds of hoods up with well intentioned men peering into the engine compartment of their vehicles, but not one was going to be started again anytime soon.
As the minutes became an hour people just started off on foot, amazed and stunned by what had happened. There were throngs crossing the Golden Gate and Bay bridges on foot, and bike riders were suddenly kings of the highway—until people started yanking riders out of their seats to get at the bikes. In and around the major airports there were massive fires from wrecked planes burning uncontrolled when airlines in mid-takeoff or landing approaches suddenly lost all power and came crashing to earth. All across the Western United States planes were falling from the sky.
No aliens in orbiting ships were responsible for the falling skies, it was just a couple of well placed missiles with EMP warheads. The pulse they created cascaded down through the upper atmosphere, a massive sizzle of voltage faster than any circuit breaker or surge protector could react. Virtually every unshielded electronic device, and the entire power grid from Colorado to the Pacific coast, was toasted in just one split second.
It would take long months, more like years to restore the area to what it was just a few seconds before the detonations. But the world didn’t have months or years to do the required work. It had nine days, and of this was the twilight of Day Five.
Chapter 23
Karpov had his verdict, the consensus of the three Captains after a brief face to face meeting aboard Kirov in the officer’s mess hall. It had been a long discussion, but the urgency of time forced them to a hasty decision. Yeltzin had advised caution, suggesting the flotilla should disengage and head east into the Pacific to better assess the situation and buy more time for a final decision. Yet Karpov argued that would simply postpone the inevitable. They would have to confront the proverbial ‘powers that be’ at one time or another. Better now than later.
Captain Ryakhin, younger, less experienced, seemed to gravitate to Karpov’s point of view. He had been heartened by their earlier interventions, seeing how easily they could handle the ships of this era and bolstered by the decision to assist the Russian invasion of the Kuriles with naval gunfire support. A dedicated officer, he strongly suggested that they should fight on behalf of Soviet Russia, their homeland, even if it was not the Russia they had come from.
“We are Stalin’s wayward sons,” he said. “He may have been a brutal father, but the Russia we left behind was molded in his hands.” Ryakhin was also feeling just a little guilt over the live fire incident that had downed the American reconnaissance flight. This mishap had forced the action and seemed to stir up quite a reaction in response. Ryakhin apologized to Karpov, stating he would enforce better discipline in the future.
In the end it was decided that they would make one last attempt to negotiate with the Americans and, if they refused or pressed any further attack on the flotilla, they would meet that hostility with equal force.
“And I will be the judge of what ‘equal force’ means,” said Karpov. “It will be my intention to defend the fleet with conventional weapons, and this may mean offensive operations on our part as well. Yet I have been through all this before. We have limited missile inventories, and when the missiles are gone, we become little more than fast cruisers in a sea of trouble. They will harry us and hound us until they catch us one day, and then it will come down to deck guns. We may win some of those battles, but then again we may get hurt as well. You have seen the damage to this ship when we returned to Vladivostok. Let that be a stern reminder.”
“The odds are very steep, Karpov,” said Yeltzin. “Do you really want to engage the Americans now? Now, when their entire navy is concentrated within a few hundred kilometers of our present position?”
“Now or never,” Karpov returned. “If they attack us with what appears to be overwhelming force I will issue you a coded signal—Hellfire. This will convey my decision to utilize a tactical nuclear warhead, though I do not take it lightly. I intend to give the American Admirals the opportunity to avoid conflict. We shall see if they are wise enough to do so, but I will not back down here. That said, I will be the sole authority on use of nuclear weapons. Neither of you are to mount tactical warheads on missiles unless I give such an order—understood?”
“Let us hope things do not come to that,” said Yeltsin. “But we will support you, Captain.”
“Of course you will,” Karpov smiled, then he was suddenly serious again. “There is one thing more,” he began, his eyes shifting as though he were trying to locate something on the desk. “Should it come down to nuclear weapons, I must tell you that our experience leads me to believe that our position in this timeframe could be affected by a detonation.”
“What do you mean?” Yeltsin leaned closer. “Affected in what manner?”
“It i
s impossible to say. We have already seen how a massive release of explosive energy sent us here. A nuclear detonation, close enough, could send us somewhere…else…”
“This happened to you in the Atlantic?”
“It did, but we later attributed it to the use of that control rod. Now I am not so sure.”
“Then perhaps this might also be a way for us to get back to our own time again,” Yeltsin hit on the obvious point of opportunity.
“That thought occurred to me,” said Karpov. “We might kill two bears with one shot. If we do have to teach the Americans a lesson, and it changes the history in our favor, that will be one thing. If it also sends us home, so much the better.”
“And if it puts two thousand men in an early grave?”Another voice intruded from the shadow of the half open door, and Doctor Zolkin entered, a hard look on his face. “What then, Karpov?”
“You were not invited to this conference, Doctor.”
“Sorry to crash the party gentlemen, but I invited myself. I am a Captain of the Second Rank.”
“You are not in the primary command structure of the ship,” Karpov snapped at him. “That rank is merely a courtesy, Zolkin. You know it as well as I do.”
“Courtesy or not, I am here and you have heard what I just said. You think you can just fire off your weapons and slaughter these men without consequences?”
“Not without consequences.” Karpov stood up now. “I am well aware of the consequences, more so than any man in this room.”
“And what does your conscience say about that?” Zolkin looked him square in the eye, defiant.
“That is my concern!”
“No, Captain. It is our concern, yours, mine, the good Captains here, and also the concern of every man on this ship. If you fire off another warhead, then all history changes.”
“That is the point under discussion, Doctor. Yes, all history changes, and hopefully for the better. You want what we just lived through all over again? You would prefer the cold war, the collapse of the Soviet Union? The oil wars, and then the final battle for our very survival in 2021? Yes, we could change all that. We have the power.”
“How many warheads do you have, Karpov? Suppose you destroy the American fleet here. You think they will leave it at that? No! Fedorov says your first little act of valor ended up changing the history and there was no Pearl Harbor. Well, you’ll give them that right here, won’t you? Use a nuclear warhead here and all you will do is poke a stick in the belly of the bear, the most powerful nation on this earth at the moment. They will build three new ships for every one you destroy, and another thing. They have the bomb as well. You say you will fight for Russia? What if they drop one on Moscow?”
“We don’t know if they’ve developed atomic weapons yet. You said yourself, the history has changed. If they had the bomb, then why didn’t they use it on the Japanese?”
“Who can say? But I am willing to bet they do have it—are you going to start World War Three here?”
“I’m not starting anything. If you were eavesdropping long enough at that door then you heard that. Yes?”
“What I heard was a man determined to take his second chance and get it right this time. You are so very clever, Karpov. You think your first bomb just missed the mark, that’s all. Now if you just fling another it will hit the target this time. Am I correct? Well listen here—all of you—those are men out there—human beings.” He pointed at the wall, to sailors unseen over the far horizon, in their ships of steel, men of war, but men nonetheless. “They are flesh and blood, not shadows. Each one you kill also casts a long shadow of death on every generation yet to come. You do not just sink their ships, you kill fathers, and you kill their sons and daughters, and their grand children, all in one throw. You will have their blood and the blood of all their unborn descendents on your hands. For what? Stalin? Mother Russia?”
Zolkin waved his hand in frustration. “Alright…I’ve said what I came here to say.” He gave them a long hard look. “Now I’m going back to sick bay to wait for the men to start lining up at my door.”
He turned and stepped through the half open door, his footsteps echoing on the deck plating as he went.
Karpov sat down again, folding his hands, his face drawn but a determined look in his eye.
“The doctor is somewhat dramatic,” he began. “Yet what he fails to realize is that in war the enemy makes choices too. They may give us no other option if they will not listen to reason here.”
“Unless we turn east,” Yeltsin put in one last time. “The Pacific Ocean is a very big place.”
Karpov looked at him, but said nothing more. The meeting ended, faces hardened with the realization that they could indeed commence the Third World War within the next few hours if things went ill.
Thirty minutes later Karpov was on the bridge. “Mister Nikolin. I want you to broadcast on an open channel to the Americans. Tell them I want to speak with Admiral Halsey. Tell them I am offering to negotiate the situation and reach a peaceful resolution…to avoid any further bloodshed here.”
“Aye, sir.” Nikolin began sending his message in English, and Karpov wished he had taken the time to learn the language. Then again, he thought, perhaps we can teach the world to speak Russian here. That is the voice I will speak in now, and let them hear it well.
* * *
Aboard Battleship Missouri Admiral Halsey was sitting in the ward room office, reading the fleet manifest and thinking. They had lost Wasp—again—and Ziggy Sprague’s TF 38.3 was now light a good number of aircraft, but he still had teeth. There were over 200 planes left in Sprague’s task force, and he was bringing 350 more on Yorktown, Shangri-La, Bon Homme Richard and two light escort carriers. He also had two more superb fast battleships with Missouri and Iowa, a fist full of heavy cruisers, and over twenty destroyers to throw in with Ziggy’s group.
Someone just called our bet and so we’ll go double or nothing, he thought. Whoever they are, we’ll show them who the hell they’re messing with—rockets or no rockets. The British Admiral Fraser had warned him not to concentrate his ships too tightly, though that seemed to fly in the face of good naval tactics. He had used a sledgehammer approach to bludgeon the Japanese to their knees with one swift, powerful blow after another. The war was finally over, and all it will take is just one more swing of that hammer to let everyone concerned know who’s in charge here.
“Admiral, sir…” A midshipman was knocking lightly at the door, saluting as he entered.
“What is it Mister Wilkes?”
“Sir, you asked to be informed of any unusual message traffic. We’re receiving a radio transmission from the Russians up north.”
“What’s this all about?”
“I think you’d better hear it for yourself, sir. It’s been repeating for the last ten minutes now. They’re asking for you by name, sir.”
Halsey took that in. So history was calling his name again. It was not a surprise. They know who they’re up against here now and they probably want to jaw bone about it.
“Very well, Mister Wilkes. I’ll take this directly in the radio room. Walk with me.”
It wasn’t a very long walk, down one corridor and up two ladders to the small compartment behind the main bridge, the flag radio room. Halsey listened, hearing the obvious Slavic accent in the English transmission. Fraser was correct. It sure sounded like these were, indeed, Russians.
“They’re broadcasting this in the clear like that?”
“Yes, sir,” said the radio man. “The whole fleet can hear it.”
Halsey thought about that a moment, then folded his arms. “Then let them hear this.” He reached for the microphone on the desk and thumbed the send switch.
“Now hear this. Attention on all decks. This is Fleet Admiral Halsey speaking to our Russian friends up north, and you had better listen up. You have fired on our aircraft, downed planes, refused to yield or heave to for boarding, and further engaged vessels of the United States Navy in active
combat. I am bringing sixty warships up there to see about it, and I can double up on that bet any time it suits me. Now you will do exactly what I order here. Allies or not, you will heave to and be boarded by United States Marines. Your ships will be taken in tow, and held until such time as negotiations are concluded with the Soviet government over this matter. Is that understood?”
He waited, the eyes of the two radio men on him now, his arms folded over his broad chest. A long minute later the voice came back, in the same heavily accented English.”
“I am speaking on behalf of Acting Fleet Commander Vladimir Karpov, Russian Federal Navy. While we have no direct affiliation with the Soviet government, we nonetheless will look to their interests and endeavors. They have not sanctioned or approved our actions in defense of our ships, nor are they even aware of our presence here. That said, I will tell you that we will not heave to as ordered, nor will our ships be boarded, towed, or interned in any way. Furthermore, the Soviet government has no say in the determination of our fate, though the inverse may well be true. And the same goes for you.”
“What the hell is this guy talking about?” Halsey said aloud, clearly annoyed. “A bit long winded, isn’t he? Well let me make it clearer.” Halsey thumbed the radio send and spoke again.
“You will heave to and be boarded or I will sink you. Over.”
“You may try to do so, Admiral, but I will give you fair warning here. We have weapons unlike any you have ever seen. I am capable of destroying your entire fleet. Understood? Please do not force me to take actions that you and the men you command will dearly regret. I will offer to negotiate with you in person, or with fleet officers of command level rank, to resolve the situation without bloodshed, but if attacked I will defend my fleet and destroy yours in the process, and that is not a bluff or brag.”
B00DSDUWIQ EBOK Page 20