“What book?” Karpov looked at the Navigator. “What have you been reading now, Lieutenant?”
“Sir, I have a volume of-”
“Never mind that now,” the Admiral cut him off. “Gentlemen, I assembled you all here to discuss this matter, and hear your viewpoints, but I must now remind you that this is not a democracy, not for the moment. The chain of command will prevail as always, and my decision is final in every circumstance we may encounter. Is that clear?”
Karpov’s jaw was set, but he did not directly challenge the Admiral. Orlov looked at him, but he, too, said nothing.
“Now then,” said Volsky. “Mister Fedorov, I want you to plot an approach to these two ships that are presently advancing on our position. The evidence obtained at Jan Mayen speaks loudly, yet it appears we need more jam on the blini before we will savor it. We must determine what is real and what is not here, and we must do so at our earliest opportunity.”
“If I may, Admiral,” said Fedorov. “We have other options as well. We could sail for Iceland and overfly Reykjavik as we did Jan Mayen. If this is a PSYOP, then NATO cannot hide an entire modern city from us, can they?”
“Yes we could do this, but I believe our answer is close at hand. What was this ship you believe is approaching us?”
“HMS Adventure, along with a destroyer. Adventure is a mine laying scout cruiser, not heavily armed, sir. She had four 4.7 inch guns, primarily used for anti aircraft defense, and other smaller caliber weapons. The 4.7s can range out to about 16,000 yards or so. The destroyer has the same, along with eight 21 inch torpedoes. Neither ship presents any long range threat. We would not even have to use a single missile if they sought to engage us. We could simply direct radar controlled gun fire well outside their range.”
“Or we could send you to have a look in the KA-226. You can identify these ships by sight?”
“I believe so, sir.”
“No,” said Karpov. “I want tangible evidence, not simply this man’s assessment from a long range camera. I want to see these ships myself.”
“Well you could fly with him, Mister Karpov. However, if this is an anti-aircraft cruiser, perhaps we should be cautious with our helicopters.”
“If we wish to make a close approach with the ship,” said Fedorov, “then we could put men up on the highest mast and establish a watch there. You can see out twelve to fourteen miles from that height, and we’ll see them on radar long before that. With a good, high powered observation lens we can probably identify these ships at that range visually. In fact, we could even simply use the high powered cameras on the Tin Man watch decks. Even the Captain’s field glasses would do,” Fedorov finished. “And we would still be three or four miles beyond the range of their 4.7 inch guns.”
“We can get closer than that,” said Karpov sourly. “If they dare attack us I will make short work of them.”
“Very well,” said the Admiral. “Then this is exactly what we will do, and hopefully before this weather front makes observation impossible. But Captain, I will be on the bridge for this operation.” He eyed Karpov, noting the man’s reaction.
“Gentlemen, let’s get moving. Anyone scheduled for relief get some sleep. I am well rested, and I will take the ship in, Mister Karpov. You may stand down and get some rest. Join me on the bridge in 6 hours. By that time we should be very near these ships. Mister Fedorov-plot me a good intercept course. I want to sail west of Jan Mayen.”
“Aye, sir.”
Karpov sighed heavily, still convinced this was all a waste of time. Yet the first thing on his mind now was his stomach. He was hungry and wanted to get in a meal and a few hours sleep before he returned to the bridge. On the way to the officer’s mess he pulled Orlov aside and asked him what he thought of the situation.
“It’s one fine v’zadnitse, Captain. How is it the Americans say this? Up shit creek without a paddle. It’s crazy. And the more I think on it the more I begin to feel crazy. Yet, after all this, it begins to paint that impossible picture.”
“Don't be a fool, Orlov. Yes, I know the evidence seems convincing, but everything we have seen could have been part of a psychological operation staged by NATO, even the removal of the facilities on Jan Mayen, in spite of what the Doctor says.”
“I'm not so sure about that, Vladimir. That's the one thing about all this that bothers me. I've been on that island too, and I'm telling you there was nothing there when we overflew it a few hours ago. You don't disassemble those buildings in a few hours time. What, do you think they've stored everything in some underground bunker to put them back together again after they've had their fun with us? This is very disturbing, Captain. I can dismiss the other things, even that airplane, but this business concerning the island is very perplexing.”
Karpov said nothing for a time. He was also finding it difficult to dismiss the evidence they had uncovered by visiting the island. Yet something in him remained stubborn, holding on to the world they had come from, and unwilling to embrace the prospect that it was entirely gone now-possibly gone forever. He felt like a spider without a web, a mouse without a hole to hide in any longer. Even so, another part of his mind was creeping ahead, sifting through the possibilities. “Who do you think our real enemy is, Orlov?”
“The British, the Germans, the Americans, they are all the same as far as I'm concerned. Aren’t they all in league together anyway? We have few friends in the world, Captain. Even the Chinese eye us with suspicion these days.”
“But let's assume the impossible. If this were 1941, would you join the British in opposing Nazi Germany?”
“I would find some way to stick it to them both,” said Orlov emphatically.
Karpov thought about that for some time as they walked, and when they had reached the officer’s mess, he leaned close and gave Orlov a quiet order. “When we finish up here, Chief, I think it best we put some men to work and remove any obvious insignia on the ship. Pull down the ensigns as well. Just as a precaution.” He forced a weak smile.
Orlov grinned. “You’ve been thinking about this from a few different angles, haven't you, Captain? Your point about securing a better position for us after the war was well taken. Yes, we have a very powerful ship here, but consider what the Admiral said… We have just sixty missiles on board, and we are lucky to have even that many. The reloads for the Moskit-IIs are stacked high in the crates below decks, so if we were to take a hit, we would go off like a firecracker. We must be careful in the early going, no matter whose ships are out there, no matter what year it is. The silence from Severomorsk is also very disturbing. I don't know which scenario frightens me the most. If things turn out to be the way you see them, and this isn’t World War II, then World War III might have started eight hours ago. Take your pick. It’s a nightmare in either case as far as I’m concerned.”
“If that is so, then we are in the fight of our lives, Chief. Yet we have the means to defend ourselves adequately, and we can punch harder than any ship in the world.”
As Orlov stood to leave, Karpov left him with one final thought. “Yes, we have limited ammunition, and we must be very prudent in the way we use it. But we have other means, and I am not so squeamish as the Admiral when it comes to using them.”
At that, Orlov said nothing. He took his leave, out to make the rounds below decks and see that the scheduled maintenance checks had been finished.
Karpov sat with his dinner for some time, though his appetite had vanished. He ate, reflexively, sopping up the gravy with some good black Russian rye bread, but his mind was wandering in distant fields. As usual, except for those times when Orlov was with him, he ate alone. None of the junior officers seemed to want to share his table, and when he was in the officer’s mess they often stilled their conversation as well, talking in hushed tones with one another as if they might disturb the Captain.
Karpov was used to such reactions from the men under him. In one sense, he took it as a sign of respect, though deep down he knew they shunned him out of fear. One voice in his mind believed that was good. The men should have a healthy fear and respect for their senior officers, yes? But a deeper feeling that could only be described as loneliness whispered something else to him about it. He did not want to listen to that voice.
Yet, by and large, he was alone in the world. Take him out of this small kollectiv on the ship and there was no one back home waiting for him. When the ship returned to Severomorsk, all the other crewmen would rush down
