“But tell me about this trouble in the Sea of Japan.” Volsky folded his arms, watching the white haired Abramov reach for a computer pad and slide it his way across the desk top.
“There you are,” he said. “I’ve poked at it long enough. See if you can make any sense of it.”
Volsky read the headline, thinking of the newspaper they had found on Malus Island with an inner shiver. It read: CHINA PROTESTS NEW JAPANESE NAVAL MANEUVERS, an old story in the Pacific, but one that was increasingly occupying the front pages of news outlets across the world.”
“Another protest,” he sighed.
“More than that, Leonid,” Abramov cautioned. “We have satellites too. The Chinese have been moving a lot of equipment around in the last few months-a lot of mobile rocket launchers. They’ve been rattling their saber again over the latest election results in Taiwan. They did not wish to see a president elected there who was so firmly set on Taiwan’s independence.”
“Yes, for a nation always wagging their fingers at people who interfere in their own internal politics, they are very fond of also sticking them in everyone else’s business.”
“Just like the Americans,” Abramov shrugged. “It’s a new world, Leonid. It’s China’s world too, particularly here in the Pacific. We’re just tired old men watching over a few tired old ships up here. China is calling the shots in the Pacific now, as we both know all too well. They didn’t like it when Japan modified those new helicopter destroyers and then put a squadron of F-35s on them.”
Abramov was referring to the 19000T class destroyer, now reclassified as light escort carriers and the largest surface combatants in the present Japanese Navy at a length of 248 meters and 27,000 tons fully loaded. Japan’s constitution had prohibited the deployment of nuclear weapons, strategic strike bombers and attack aircraft carriers, but the naval planners had argued that the new ships were defensive in nature. Then they modified them to allow for takeoff and landing of the JF-35B Lightning Joint Strike Fighter, a small squadron of only seven planes to augment the helicopters carried by the ships. If that was not enough of a provocation, naming their last two of four units in the class Kaga and Akagi after their old WWII era fleet carriers did little to comfort the Chinese.
It was the same old story again, as nations quibbled over limits on things like weapons systems, ship classes, and naval deployments, and haggled over deserted islands off each other’s coasts, mostly for the oil and gas rights in the seabed beneath them. The world of 2021 was slowly starving for energy. Oil and gas had carried the weight of development into the 21st century, but there had been no wide scale deployment of a reliable energy source that was not nuclear to stand in for the rapidly depleting resources in the petroleum industry. Nations were getting hungry now, their economies needing constant production to remain viable, and competition for any new oil and gas fields was bordering on fierce. The military forces of many key regional powers had now become oil and gas protection services, for the wheels had to always turn, and they were starting to slow down again, in the factories of China and on the freeways of the U.S.
“The Japanese Navy now outclasses our own fleet Pacific Fleet,” said Abramov. “They have these two light carriers, then two more smaller DDH type ships in their Hyuga Class, ten excellent new guided missile destroyers and another thirty DD and DE class warships-not to mention the sixteen submarines. Yes, some of those older destroyers date back to the 1980s like our Udaloys, but they have been well maintained. We’re still scraping the rust off our older ships to see what we can get seaworthy. I managed to get three old KGB Krivak class border guard frigates out to train with Kuznetsov, if you can believe it.”
“Krivaks? We’ve been selling off the best of those refits to the Indian Navy. Now I suppose we will wish we had them for ourselves.”
“So as you can see, Japan will be no pushover.”
“You will get no argument from me on that point,” said Volsky. “I am well aware of the capabilities of the Japanese navy.” He could, of course, never tell Abramov what he really meant with that.
“Yes, well their navy now outnumbers us almost three to one here in the Pacific, and without ships like Kirov and Kuznetsov, we’ve become little more than a coastal defense force, and a bunch of submarine tenders.”
“That’s a good looking new ship off our port side at the berthing,” said Volsky.
“Yes, the Orlan will help a little, and we just received the fast frigate Admiral Golovko as well, but without Kirov, this is still a three week fleet, if we could even last that long.”
“I’m afraid it may take a little longer than that to get Kirov back in full fighting trim,” Volsky sighed. “It was a difficult journey, my friend.” Volsky lowered his voice now. “I’ll tell you about it one day, but for now I have Kapustin sniffing around over there, and a lot of questions to answer.”
“Kapustin is a bureaucrat,” said Abramov, “very thorough too. He’ll work sixteen hour days, and no amount of paperwork will intimidate him. But it’s not Kapustin you should be worried about. He brought along Volkov, and that man is old school Naval Intelligence, sour as a lemon. He’ll be a pain in your neck in no time at all.”
Volsky nodded. Then slid the computer pad back over to Abramov and leaned heavily over the desk, his brow furrowed, eyes reflecting real worry beneath his heavy brows. “Boris…There’s a storm coming, and a very big one I fear. An American submarine snuck up on us when we were finishing up exercises in the Pacific, and we almost put a Shkval up their ass. Things are wound up tighter than a spring, and anything could set them off in this climate. Yes, there’s a storm coming, and if we can’t find some way to prevent it, then we had better be ready for it. Only this time… this time if the missiles start flying I must tell you I don’t hold out much hope for the world.”
The memory of Halifax Harbor was clear in his mind now, and a dark and ominous shadow on his soul.
Chapter 11
Inspector Kapustin sat at the desk, eyes intent on the list now, and a look of perplexed apprehension on his face. Volkov stood by the door, waiting for his reaction, a half smile on his face and the look of a self-righteous snitch all too apparent.
“Are you certain of this list?” said Kapustin. “These are the names of all men who died?”
“I got it straight from the ship’s physician, sir, though that took some doing. The impudent old man insisted I go to Karpov first, and we both know what a prick that man is.”
It takes one to know one, thought Kapustin, but he said nothing, staring solemnly at the list, his discomfiture more and more evident. “But I just consulted the ship’s register, and none of these names are even listed there. Could they have been stricken from the register as these casualties were reported.”
“I considered that, sir, but decided to check. I phoned Moscow on this and got the Naval Personnel Division to sent me over the entire active duty roster for Kirov as of 28 July of this year. None of those names were on the list, sir.”
Kapustin leaned back, his hand straying to his chin to run through the thick stubble of his curly gray beard. “Are you suggesting that these names were fabricated? That no one actually died and that they had to make this all up to bolster this story that all the damage was from the Orel incident?”
“I thought that as well, sir. Until I found these in the sick bay. It seems the good Doctor kept a few paper files in his cabinet. Not everything is digital these days.”
“You searched the Doctor’s files?”
“Well he wasn’t very cooperative, sir. In fact he’s somewhat of an obstructionist, hiding behind that home spun wit of his. But I got to the bottom of things, sir. If those names were fabricated, then have a look at these.” He handed the Director three manila file folders, old crew personnel documents attached from the days of typewriters and fax machines. The documents were typical naval records, service history, promotion reviews for three junior grade Lieutenants.
“All three of these men are on the casualty list.” Kapustin was more confused than ever. “If that list was fabricated, then someone went to a great deal of trouble to produce all this material for these three men. I can think of no reason why.”
“There’s more, sir,” Volkov rocked forward on his toes slightly, the light of the chase in his dark eyes. “I interviewed some of the men below decks. They say they knew those three men-talked about them as though they had just come from the mess hall together. Those men were on the ship, sir. I have every confidence in that.”
