Steel Reign (Kirov Series Book 23)

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Steel Reign (Kirov Series Book 23) Page 28

by John Schettler


  Hitler narrowed his eyes, looking at Volkov and then at the diagrams of the new enemy fighter. “I have learned enough about you, Volkov, to know that any time you call me ‘my Führer’ you are desperate to win your point. Very well, I see no harm in ordering these new shells produced, but the testing had better prove your claims in terms of accuracy and effectiveness. Now I have another question for you. We need information on these new enemy rocket designs. That is what I really want from you. I am told we have recently captured two such missiles while they were in the process of being tested by the enemy.”

  This came as a great shock to Volkov, for he could not imagine that the Germans could have captured anything that might have come off the decks of Kirov. “Tell me more,” he said darkly.

  “American rockets,” said Hitler with a smile, rocking slightly on his heels. “A nice little windfall—you see, you are not the only one that can get your hands on enemy secrets. My Kriegsmarine delivered a most interesting cache of equipment that was taken from an enemy ship at sea.”

  “Where? What ship? What was it you found?”

  Now Hitler was turning the tables on Volkov, for this time it was the Führer with all the answers, and Volkov with all the questions.

  “Never mind all those irrelevant details,” said Hitler. “But since you are delivering all this new intelligence, tell your operatives they missed something—the new American X-17A. Now that we have this enemy rocket, we will take it apart, piece by piece, to see how it works. I am already told it has a most unusual warhead, and when we are done, I will build rockets of our own by the thousands, and darken the skies above our cities with them should the Allies attempt this strategic bombing you worry so much about. What do you say to that?” Hitler smiled, a twisted smile that spoke of havoc and mayhem on his mind, and for the first time in all their meetings together, Volkov was afraid.

  Chapter 33

  Yes, Volkov was afraid.

  He knew that the Americans of this day could not have anything that might be rightfully called a functioning missile. As soon as he got safely back aboard his airship, he immediately queried the missile in his computer jacket database, and found his fears were not unwarranted. He wanted to go right back to Hitler with a thousand questions, but knew that would be impossible. Was the German leader correct—an American missile called the X-17A? Might that name or designation be mere coincidence, some code applied to an archaic weapon? Surely he could not have been referring to the X-17 missile he was now learning about. Development didn’t even start on it until February of 1955!

  Then again, the Moskit II wasn’t developed until the early 21st Century, and it was here, the terror of enemy shipping the world over. But the X-17 wasn’t an anti ship missile—it was a real ballistic missile, long and slender, and 40 feet high. The rocket had three stages, a thicker main stage at the bottom that would burn for 23 seconds to propel the rocket to an altitude of about 27 kilometers. Then it would jettison stage one, tip over at apogee, and the three rocket motors of stage two would burn for about 2 seconds to rapidly increase descent speed before that stage would be cut loose. The final third stage was just ten feet in length, a single rocket that would also burn for just under two seconds, but that was enough to increase the reentry speed to between Mach 11 and Mach 14, depending on the angle.

  Volkov had to find out what this missile really was, and his man inside Peenemünde would soon provide the details, once told what to look for. It was a very dangerous mission, for security at that secret German research site was very rigorous, though insiders had a way of getting past security that would stop an outsider cold. It was another long week before he received a coded message back, and his face whitened when he learned the truth. Hitler was not making an idle boast! The Germans had two prototype missiles in their possession, one in a closely guarded steel vault, untouched, and the second in a secret laboratory where it was being slowly dismantled, measured, analyzed and observed by a wide range of technical specialists, and some of the best minds in Germany.

  So this was what those earlier reports were all about, thought Volkov. He had received intelligence that a fast armored train had arrived at Toulon, under heavy escort. Something had been delivered there by a pair of German warships, and it was then escorted north under round the clock German air cover. This had to be those very same missiles, he thought. From that point, he set his intelligence men to work on back tracking the deployment of the German ships in question. One, he learned, was the fast battlecruiser Kaiser Wilhelm, and the second was that hybrid scout carrier, the Goeben. Neither ship had ever existed in the history he guarded within his computer data files, and now it seemed they had just delivered something that also could not exist in this day and time.

  How could the Germans have gotten their hands on an American missile that wasn’t even designed until 1955? He grilled his intelligence operatives to make certain that the American rocket research programs could not have produced such a missile. In the end, he looked at the deployment of those two German ships. They had broken out into the Atlantic after the big battle off Fuerteventura, and, after sparring with the British and engaging one of their convoys, they disappeared. It was weeks later before they were encountered again off the African coast, and pursued by British fast cruisers.

  Volkov put the full weight of his network to the task of determining where those ships went. Then, after another two weeks of intensive spy craft, he had his answer—the deep South Atlantic. It was there that they encountered and took an American ship as a prize, which was subsequently handed off to one of their merchant commerce raiders and quietly escorted home. The real windfall was his agent in Toulon, where that prize ship had secretly been berthed. He managed to get to it just before the name and recognition number was painted over, VM1. He had also used a high-powered lens to capture the name stenciled on a life preserver: U.S.S. Norton Sound.

  With that key information, Volkov went to work to determine what this ship was, and it was then that the anxiety within him started to become real fear. After the lesson of his own life, after the presence of Kirov here, and his suspicions about things the British were doing in this war that revealed an advanced level of technical capability, he should not have been surprised, but he was. Norton Sound was an American ship alright, but it wasn’t supposed to have even been laid down until September of that year! It would then be launched in November of 1943, and finally fitted out and commissioned in January of 1945.

  He stared at the photograph his Toulon agent had managed to deliver, and it was, indeed a perfect match for the images he had of this ship in his own data. How in the world could the Germans have found this ship in the deep South Atlantic? Now he was finally asking the same question that Alan Turing had asked Peter Twinn a month earlier…. How in this world could these things happen?

  Volkov suddenly had a new query to make of his data—he wanted to know all known deployments of the American ship Norton Sound, and soon he had what he was looking for, a correlation of that ship’s presence in the South Atlantic, and very near the presumed location of the German raiders. He had determined where they had gone when his intelligence network produced a plaintive lost signal of alarm that had been sent to Royal Navy headquarters when an outpost claimed they were suddenly being bombed by German Stukas. That outpost was on Ascension Island.

  Those planes had to come off that German scout carrier, he thought. That’s where those raiders went, and somewhere in that area they encountered this American ship…. Yet the only time I can verify that the Norton Sound was in that region was in 1958. How is this possible, that they would find a ship that simply does not exist today, in a place it only visited one time, sixteen years from now? And just because curiosity is a way that leads on to way, Volkov soon found out what the Norton Sound was actually doing there in 1958. It was out on a secret test mission, Project Argus, and that was when all the pieces of the puzzle suddenly clicked in his mind—Argus, Norton Sound, X-17A missiles.

  T
hat was when the thump of anxiety in his chest became real fear, the clammy cold sweat of uncertainty on the back of his neck, and a worried expression on his face. That project was designed to launch a small atomic warhead into outer space. Then something struck him like a thunderclap—those reports of strange auroras over the Azores. He had dismissed it as nothing more than an odd weather event at the time, but now, when he looked at the date of that event, he saw it occurred very near the time of the German attack on Ascencion Island. Could the two events be related?

  Reading further on the American Argus project, he soon learned that the Azores was a special location where those exact effects in the upper atmosphere were expected to occur. The Americans even positions ships there to observe it! Yet could that ship be the same one that took part in those tests? Volkov suddenly had a very grim feeling. He knew, from his own time, that his government had been tinkering with the odd aftereffects of nuclear detonations, and that they learned some most interesting things about them. My god, he thought to himself. Could it have happened here? Was this a displacement event? The yield on that American warhead was very small, and it would have been detonated very high, far from the ship that launched it. And yet... The Norton Sound was here. If this impossible series of dots actually do connect to paint the picture I’m seeing now… then Hitler has the bomb!

  The Führer’s words were now riveted in his mind: “…we will take it apart, piece by piece, to see how it works. I am already told it has a most unusual warhead, and when we are done, I will build rockets of our own by the thousands….”

  * * *

  A Captain never forgets a ship he once commanded, and Vice Admiral Kurita was no different. When he returned to Mogami, flagship of his old 7th Cruiser Division, he knew it would be his last cruise on that ship, and there was a brief moment of nostalgia that passed over him. Then, the realization of what he was now embarking on swept that emotion away. He was receiving a most important assignment, command of the Northern fleet that would include two fast battleships and a pair of fleet carriers. This was a promotion of great significance, and he was deeply honored that Admiral Yamamoto would entrust this mission to him.

  So I must not fail, he thought. Strange that I have no knowledge of this secret ship, particularly since it is a cruiser. Takami… I have half a mind to make speed and go see what this is all about, but my place is here with the division. We sail north now to rendezvous with all the other elements of the northern fleet. Kaga and Tosa will be off Sapporo on the 18th, awaiting our arrival. Battleships Hiraga and Satsuma are already waiting there. It is a very long way from Rabaul to Sapporo, at least 3500 nautical miles. We should still arrive right on schedule if we make a consistent 20 knots. While I am tempted to remain here with Mogami, I think it more appropriate that I set my flag on one of the battleships. Hiraga was the first ship in its class, and so the honor must rightfully go there.

  He thought of that ship now, Japan’s most modern fast battleship. It was not as big and powerful as Yamato, but at 42,000 tons it was a true heavyweight. Ise and Hyuga weighed as much, but they were old and slow, and had only 14-inch guns. Hiraga and Satsuma had the new 16-inch guns, in three triple turrets, which was a departure from designs where the main battery was often spread over four turrets. Yamato and Musashi had that same design, for it saved the considerable weight of that fourth turret and barbette. And Hiraga was fast at 30 knots, the fastest battleship in the fleet, and with more endurance than the long legged Kongo class battlecruisers. It was designed to run with our carriers, he knew, and that is exactly what I will do with it.

  Yamamoto was quite clear about the need to protect those carriers. He does not want them exposed to enemy attack. If this Mizuchi is real, and dares to challenge us, how should I proceed. I am told this secret new fleet defense ship scouting ahead of the task force will give the signal for attack, and determine where the enemy is. Can it really do what Yamamoto believes? How is it I heard nothing of the development of these powerful new naval rockets over all these years? Secrecy is one thing. We took considerable measures to conceal the construction of the Yamato class battleships from prying eyes, but I always knew about them. This Takami, however, is a fish that has slipped out of the net.

  Strange that Yamamoto insisted I communicate with that ship only by means of the special radio equipment we are carrying now. This new officer is very stoic, a Lieutenant Kobayashi. He certainly seems one to discharge his duties in a diligent manner, but there is something… different about him. I cannot put my finger on it, but he has an awareness about him, clear minded, intelligent and respectful when he reports, but also strangely forgetful of the most common things aboard ship. He never uses the voice tubes, seems to hunt for switches and dials, unless he is sitting in front of that new radio, a most unusual piece of equipment.

  It does not transmit normal coded signals, and all traffic is conducted in the clear via voice communications. I am told that the signal is scrambled and encrypted, but does that not allow the enemy to triangulate on the position of that ship, Takami, and my flagship as well? The Lieutenant has explained that the equipment transmits very short bursts at a high rate of speed on many rotated channels and frequencies to prevent this. He calls it frequency hopping, and says the antenna being used is designed to focus the communication in only one direction. I asked him how his own ship could possibly know which frequencies to listen for this message, and he tells me the very first information sent establishes all that. Both radios agree where to have tea—how very interesting. Yet who can say what the enemy might be capable of?

  * * *

  Who knew?

  Lieutenant Kobayashi would not be expecting anyone in the Allied navies of 1942 to be able to intercept and decrypt the messages he was transmitting back to Takami, but he was forgetting that there were men from the 21st Century sailing these waters, and on the enemy side. Some of them had very good ears, and a nose for all the typical methods and procedures used to mask protected signals traffic at sea.

  One such man was Lieutenant Isaak Nikolin, the man who loved to play at riddles on his own internal encrypted network, direct to his good friend Tasarov at the Sonar station without anyone on the ship knowing. This time the riddle Nikolin was trying to solve was external, out there on the dark unseen airwaves his systems were routinely sifting through at his communications station aboard Kirov. He hadn’t expected to get a SIG-Alert here. If the ship had been on its planned appointed rounds in the year 2021, then yes, this traffic would be normal, but not here.

  He didn’t get any clean message intercept, but the system simply reported that it had detected high speed traffic, on a multi-band transmission with a wide range of frequency variation. That should not have been happening there in 1942, and it was enough to make him put down his crossword puzzle, and take a closer look. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t just seeing a minor systems glitch, but the more he looked into it, the more concerned he was, and perplexed as well. It appeared as if someone was sending encrypted radio traffic, and using some very modern technology to mask the point of origin and signal bearing.

  He decided to get curious, and set up a dedicated COMINT module with filters to look for exactly the kind of traffic he was suspicious of, anything on the bands he had detected earlier, anything that was frequency hopping at high speed, anything that simply should not be happening here in 1942. In time he found something, and the seemingly innocuous alert that had set him on this search soon bore fruit. He waited two days just to be certain he really had something here, and then, convinced of what he was receiving, he decided to kick the matter up the chain of command.

  “Lieutenant Rodenko, sir, I have an Electronic Surveillance Measure request.”

  Rodenko looked over at him, somewhat surprised. “What for, Nikolin? Tired of regular rotations? Need something more to drill on? You getting bored under that headset?”

  “No sir, I believe I have suspicious signals traffic and I would like to try and confirm it with some mea
surement and signals intelligence work.”

  That got Rodenko’s attention. “Suspicious traffic? What is it?”

  “Sir, I’ve been monitoring an intermittent signal burst—that’s what first got my attention. It’s a signal in burst mode, using high speed data transmission, and it’s frequency hopping all over the band. I set up a COMINT profile module to listen for it, and I have three separate interceptions—very low power to restrict range, but I got it on my primary antenna, and then used the top mast system to enhance reception.”

  “It’s frequency hopping? How fast?”

  “Too fast, sir. It has to be a computer modulated signal. I can’t read it, but if I had to bet on it, I would say someone is encrypting radio voice traffic for close in point-to-point transmissions. Should we run ELINT protocols to look for pulse rate transmissions that might be associated?”

  Rodenko sat very quiet for a moment, a series of dominoes all falling one to another in his mind. This should not be happening, but this wasn’t any ordinary communications officer reporting to him now. This was Nikolin. He turned, slowly began toggling switches, and summoning the considerable power at his command to listen and detect errant electronic and radio signals.

  “Feed me your data,” he said quietly.

  Part XII

  Reap the Whirlwind

 

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