Kirov Saga: Darkest Hour: Altered States - Volume II (Kirov Series) (34 page)

He
remembered how he felt, almost invulnerable, a kind of demigod among these
unknowing men. He never worried for one minute, not when the British found him,
then when the NKVD had him, or even after those commandos pinched him.
Persistent little rats, weren’t they? Why was everyone so interested in him, he
wondered? But he really didn’t care. He had his own mission at the time, and he
never doubted for one minute that he would do what he set out to
accomplish—find Commissar Molla and choke the life out of the man before he
could harm anyone else like he hurt his grandmother. Yet that conversation with
Fedorov had left him feeling strangely perturbed. Molla was still alive!
Sookin
Syn!
The son-of-a-bitch was out there somewhere—or was he?

Commissar Molla was one of
Beria’s men, working in the Caucasus regional commiserate. From what Fedorov
had told him he had learned that whole area was now controlled by someone else,
a man named Volkov. Would Molla still be up to no good there? Stalin was gone,
killed long ago, so was Beria working for this Volkov figure now? He didn’t
learn much about him, but it was clear that Fedorov was very upset about that
man. He could see it in the young officer’s eyes, hear it in his voice.

If Molla was still alive, would
things happen as his grandfather had told him? Would he still find his
grandmother and do what he did before? If that is so, he thought grimly, then I
am going to have to enjoy choking him again. He smiled at that, still seeing
the Commissar’s red face turn slowly purple, his eyes bugging out and his smart
ass mouth shut once and for all. He finished what he came to do, then walked
calmly out of that prison to freedom—until the Russian Marines found him.

Damn Fedorov had the balls to
come all the way across the continent just to bring me home. He scouted on
ahead for 2000 miles to sniff out my trail and then brought in the Marines! And
all of that coming from the year 2021, or so he knew now. Pretty damn ballsy,
eh? Fedorov was a hard-nosed boss when he had to be. He got things done too.

Orlov shook his head, but he
could not help but admire Fedorov. The man had trail blazed a path all through
his own damn history books to find me, and then to get after Karpov when he
learned he had the ship way back in 1908. The men had told him all about it.

“Hey Orlov,” they said, “you
missed all the fun. Karpov was kicking every ass we ran into, throwing missiles
everywhere—nukes too! But this damn ship just wouldn’t stay put. We kept
slipping farther and farther back. Can you believe it? 1908?”

No, he still couldn’t believe it.
The whole thing was too confounding and mind boggling to contemplate. Orlov
believed in very few things to a certainty—a good steak, vodka, a nice piece of
ass when he could find one, and a hard fist when he was real pissed off. Those
were the bounds of his reality. All this business about traveling through time
was more than he could think about or comprehend. He never understood why all
this happened, but he had come to accept it, because there was still vodka in
this world, good food, and there were still women there too worth the trouble.
1940 wasn’t so bad. He would get on quite well here, but look at me now, he
thought. Here I am floating over the Barents sea in a blimp! What are we really
after this time? Why is Troyak here with all his men?

He had been in on the main
briefing, but Fedorov seemed deliberately vague about what they were doing this
time. They were to go east to Port Dikson, a place Orlov had visited only once
in his day, then from there they would turn south and vanish into the endless
taiga wilderness of Siberia. What was the name of the place? Ilanskiy. Orlov
had never heard of that town, just another desolate hamlet on the edge of
nowhere, like so many lost and forgotten settlements in Siberian Russia.

We
go there, Troyak and Zykov go in to scout the place out and take down the
objective. They brought enough explosives with them to leave a crater ten feet
deep! I asked why they were doing this, but Fedorov just said it was
classified. What the hell was that? Well I’ll classify this whole situation in
two seconds. It’s got something to do with this time travel crap. Fedorov
wouldn’t say anything else, but that’s what I think. What could it be?

In
once sense it did not matter. Orlov knew he was just along for the ride. He was
given command of the reserve squad, and it was to stay aboard the zeppelin
unless Troyak and Zykov got into trouble down there.

Trouble…
Yes, that was going to be his only ticket off this blimp this time. Trouble.
Well, if there was one thing Orlov was good at, that was high on the list. I’ll
find some way off this ship, he thought, just like I found a way off
Kirov
.
I jumped ship before and I can do the same now if I want to. And this time I’ll
be a little more careful and no one will ever find me.

Russia
is a very big place

Part XI

Hammer & Anvil

“Life's
a forge. Yes, and hammer and anvil, too.

You'll
be roasted, smelted, and pounded, and
you'll scarce know what's happening to you.

But
stand proudly to it. Metal is
worthless till it is shaped and tempered.

More
labor than luck.

Face
the pounding, don't fear the proving;
and you'll stand well against any
hammer and anvil.”

—Lloyd Alexander

Chapter
31

When
Lieutenant Commander Wells got the
news he had been nominated for a promotion and appointment to his first ship he
was elated. Then he learned he was to be reassigned to HMS
Glorious
and
his mood dampened. He had his hopes set on a fast cruiser, and might even have
been more pleased to Captain a destroyer. He knew they would never give him
anything bigger, and was very surprised when he learned he would now be
commanding his old carrier.

At
least Woody will be there, he thought. Old Woodfield. What will he say now that
I’m sitting in Captain D’Oyly Hughes chair? Well I can start changing things
right off, the minute I set foot on the ship. I’ll coordinate well with the Air
Wing Commander. I hear Heath was exonerated and returned to the ship after Lieutenant
Commander  Stevens went down in that brave attack against the Twins. My Executive
Officer is a good man, Alfred Lovell, and then there is Mister Barker to be
relied upon, as good a Lieutenant Commander as they come.

So
he thanked Admiral Tovey for the internship aboard HMS
Invincible
, and even
more for his faith in him at the helm of
Glorious
.

“You’ll
have a tough job ahead down there, Wells,” said Tovey. “Somerville is a no
nonsense admiral, professional through and through, but with a good heart and
outstanding character. I’m sure you will learn much more from him than I could
ever teach you here.”

“Yet
one day I might be glad to be back aboard a battlecruiser, sir,” Wells smiled,
shook the Admiral’s hand and he was on his way.

Once
he found himself in the Captain’s chair he became a no nonsense Captain as
well. They had sailed south with two venerable old battleships,
Rodney
and
Nelson
, and a pack of destroyers. Wells made sure he had planes up
in every direction, mostly on U-boat watch for he knew the German capital ships
were all up north at the time. Yet he would certainly not ever allow himself to
be caught flat footed, and always had a good watch posted on the mainmast and a
second squadron spotted on deck at all times.

It
wasn’t the Germans he had to worry about for the moment, he thought. Strange to
think it was the French now! That navy has some fine ships in it. What if they
fight? Will it come to that? One look at those two fat battleships out there
told him all he needed to know about what might happen. So now he set his mind
on planning what his role would be in these operations.

Soon
they reached Gibraltar, the men glad to feel the warm July breeze of the
Mediterranean as the ship pulled into the harbor. It was not long before he was
summoned to present himself to Admiral Somerville, who now set his flag on HMS
Nelson
.

* * *

“Mers
-el-Kebir, gentlemen,” said
Somerville. “That is the primary French base in French Algeria, Oran, and I am
now in receipt of a message from the Admiralty directing me to take immediate
and drastic action against French ships remaining in Oran. “

The
Flag Officers and senior Captains were all meeting on HMS Nelson for the final
briefing prior to the launch of what was now being called “Operation Catapult.”
Somerville opened with a brief rundown of what Force H might encounter.

“A
pair of older battleships are presently there,
Provence
and
Bretagne
,
but also the two new battlecruisers,
Strausbourg
and
Dunkerque
.
They are accompanied by four light cruisers, sixteen destroyers and a fist full
of submarines. The rest is riff raff. Now while I should be delighted if
Admiral Gensoul decides to join with us, we must be firm in insisting his ships
are demilitarized, and that failing, scuttled in place should he decline other
options. Any questions?”

Wells
immediately raised his hand. “Have we communicated with Admiral Gensoul on this
matter, sir?”

“Not
yet,” said Somerville, tall, trim, his uniform immaculate and every bit the
English gentleman that he was. A navy cadet at the age of just fifteen, he made
Lieutenant in only five years, a specialist in radio signals and
communications. He won the DSO at the Dardanelles campaign in the first war,
then commanded a destroyer squadron during the Spanish Civil War before coming
home to study radar applications. In 1940 he had served in the evacuation at
Dunkirk before being sent to the warm Med again to organize Force H at
Gibraltar. Churchill had now handed him the first real heavy lifting for the
new battlegroup, a showdown with the powerful French Navy. He had requested
Hood
and
Ark Royal
, but they sent him
Nelson, Rodney,
and
Glorious
instead. That was good enough.

“No,”
he continued. “We want to maintain the element of surprise. Once we appear off
shore at Oran, then we have a good man slated to go in on a destroyer and may
the initial contact. We will give the French a list of reasonable alternatives,
but must be prepared to act decisively, and in a timely manner, if they are not
accepted… as distasteful as this prospect seems. I must also tell you that
Admiral Cunningham at Alexandria has expressed strong opposition to the
proposal that we resort to force, and while I am inclined to agree with him. We
could make a defeated ally into an active enemy if this operation spins out of
control. I have expressed these views to the Admiralty and I have been informed
that the civilian leadership, remains adamant on the matter.”

Everyone
there knew that the civilian leadership meant Churchill, and the word adamant was
well applied

“Then
we are to attack the French by surprise, sir?”

“We
intend to arrive by surprise, Mister Wells, and then give fair warning. I must
place Force H in a position to have every option available, and therefore this
movement will benefit from the element of stealth. We will leave at dusk, steam
throughout the night rigged for black, and expect to reach our destination at
dawn.”

“Sir,
should our proposals be rejected, am I to expect orders to coordinate a torpedo
attack?” Wells wanted to know just what he was in for, as distasteful as it
seemed to be planning the betrayal and demise of a former friend and ally. All
the other senior officers were equally bothered by the prospect, yet ready to
do their duty if so ordered.

“You
opinion on that, Captain?” Somerville handed the question back to him.

“Without
some supporting fire to silence enemy flak guns protecting the harbor, sir, it
would be very risky, and could be a costly option.”

“Admiralty
was of the same opinion,” said Somerville. “The presence of netting at the harbor
entrance also precludes the use of destroyers to make such an attack. You
should, however, be prepared to execute mining operations so as to prevent any
French ships from leaving port. Yet do not be too eager, Mister Wells, even
this option will likely be an order of the last minute. To do so too soon could
be perceived as a hostile act at a most delicate moment, and prevent the French
from accepting our proposals.”

“I
understand, sir. May I suggest that our first operation be limited to
reconnaissance? This would allow us to determine if any of the French ships are
making steam or hoisting boats to indicate signs of imminent departure.”

“A good
point, Mister Wells, and so ordered. It would also be wise to keep a close eye
on the submarines present. Should any be seen to slip their births, 8th
destroyer flotilla will be prepared to handle the matter. Your aircraft should
be prepared to support this action. Now then, I think it best I read to you the
ultimatum I have drafted, if you will all bear with me. I think it’s fair, and I
hope it will be well received.”