“They were on the ship, you say. The men knew of them, and here are thick typewritten files on all three, but the navy has absolutely no record of these men. Is that it?”
“Correct sir, and so I asked about many of the other men on the list. Yes, the men all knew them, they were all here, sir.”
“So it is obvious the list was not fabricated. They must have stricken those names from their register here, and Moscow has botched things up on their end. I cannot possibly conceive that Doctor Zolkin would write up such a list for formal submission to the Naval Inspectorate. A fabricated list? The man would have to be a lunatic to submit such a document in light of the present circumstances.”
“I did say I thought him to be somewhat of an obstructionist, sir. But the testimony of the other crewmen must also be considered. I spoke with the senior mishman in every section where the men on that list were posted. They all spoke glowingly of their service and performance, and expressed their sorrow for their loss.”
“Then how stupid and incompetent can the Naval Personnel Division be?” Kapustin threw the three manila files down on his desk now. “Have them verify their information on all these men. Tell them I want them to go into the paper archives as well. Some clerk might have thumbed his keyboard and wiped an entire data block. That’s the trouble with this world, Volkov. It’s all been reduced to ones and zeros. Well I, for one, am not willing to accept the fact that thirty-six men could have simply waltzed aboard the flagship of the Northern Fleet and merrily taken up posts on the ship with no record of their existence whatsoever! ” Kapustin’s anger was plain now.
“I will make another telephone call, sir, and I hope you are correct. Perhaps the files are in the paper archives, but if they are not…Then we have some real cloak and dagger work to do here. And there is another matter. A man was found dead in the officers’ quarters today-a man named Volushin-and it appears to have been a suicide.”
“Suicide?”
“The men I spoke with claim he had family problems, but listen to this…” Volkov told the Director what he had learned, the whole sad tale of a simple matoc come home to find his wife and family, indeed his apartment as well, all missing.
“Not there?” Kapustin was irritated now. “Then they moved before this man arrived here. This is no mystery.”
“I haven’t been able to determine that yet, sir, but the incident was enough for this man to take his life.”
“More than one sailor has come home to find his wife run off with another man, Volkov. Don’t concern yourself with it.”
“Another man went missing just yesterday, sir.” Volkov was working down his shit list.
“A crewman?”
“Yes, sir, a fellow named Markov. He was with the Chief Engineer, Dobrynin. They were over in the nuclear reactor test-bed facility doing some maintenance and he turned up missing when his shift relief came in.”
“This man deserted his post?”
“It appears that way. Frankly, I find the lack of discipline in this crew to be a matter of some concern as well.”
“Aside from the damage, the ship appears to be running smoothly, Volkov. In fact, I would go so far as to say this is an exemplary crew. They complete their work rotations smartly, and there seems to be a real esprit de corps among them.”
“That’s just it, sir. There’s an edge to them that almost borders on insubordination at times. Take this Doctor Zolkin, for example.”
“There you go riding that man’s back again, Volkov. Give it a rest. I know Zolkin, and yes he’s a bit of an eccentric, but a fine physician, with thirty years in the service. Let him be.”
“Very well, but this Karpov is a bit too cheeky for my taste,” Volkov folded his arms, shifting targets.
“So are you, Volkov! I guess when they give a man that last stripe to make him a Captain of the First Rank he wants to let everyone else know it. Yes, Karpov can be arrogant at times, and his reputation is a bit sinister, but he’s a fine command level officer, one of the best in the fleet, or why else would the navy have given him Kirov?”
“As we have seen, sir, the navy makes mistakes.”
Kapustin gave him a wry smile, then leaned back, tapping a pen on his notepad. “Anything more?”
“The Starpom, sir. The ex-navigator.”
“Ah…yes. Anton Fedorov. What about him?”
“He was a Junior Lieutenant, and was promoted several ranks in just the last six weeks! Volsky moved him all the way up to Captain of the Second Rank. That is very unusual, sir.”
“I’ll make a note to discuss the matter with the Admiral when he returns from his business ashore. Is that all?”
“No sir, I have one other issue that we need to discuss. There was one man on that casualty list that did have a record on file in the personnel division. He was Chief of Operations, Captain Gennadi Orlov.”
“Orlov? I have heard of this man. He was on a Sovremenny Class Destroyer years ago and worked his way over to Kirov. A disagreeable man, from what I have heard.”
“Well he stood second to Karpov on this ship, sir. This Anton Fedorov appears to have been promoted when he was killed in that helicopter incident.”
“That explains Fedorov then.”
“Not entirely, sir. Fedorov was just a navigator. He had no combat training at all. Don’t you think it is odd for him to be made Starpom?
“Perhaps, but I said I would discuss this with Volsky. Get back to Orlov. What did you learn?”
“I overheard a couple of the Marines talking about this man-Orlov. They were none too complimentary, and when I stepped into the helo bay to ask them about it, they suddenly changed their tune, became happy little school boys and had nothing but good things to say about him. It was very suspicious, sir.”
Kapustin sighed, scratching his head. “Volkov, Volkov. You think the men in the ranks will ever say what they really think of a senior officer to his face-or to you, for that matter? You might be shocked to hear things that are said about you behind your own back. And don’t be surprised to see a man’s temperament change like the weather. Forget about such nonsense. Now I have a matter that is of some real concern. I spoke with the ship’s Quartermaster-a man named Martinov. This ship was issued three special warheads for this sortie, though none were authorized for live firing exercises-but one is missing, and a second has been mounted on the number ten cruise missile.”
“One is missing?”
“Yes… I suppose the warhead mounted is of no real concern. They may have run some kind of drill for special weapons. But for a nuclear warhead to turn up missing? What do you think about this, Volkov. You want a smoking gun? There it is.”
“Correct, sir. Could they have fired it in the drills on Volsky’s command?”
“Perhaps, but it would be most irregular.”
“An accident, sir? Considering what happened to Orel, I would not be surprised…My God! What if this was the warhead that killed Orel?”
“I considered that as well. These are questions easily answered when we sit down with the senior officers after the general audit. In either case, whether it was fired on Volsky’s order, or whether it was a mistake, someone will have to answer for it.”
That brought a smile to Volkov’s face. “I knew there was something suspicious about the damaged logs, sir. They were trying to cover something up, it was no accident. I think they deliberately purged the records to prevent us from discovering what happened.”
“Then they were quite stupid. As you can see, a simple audit of remaining weapons inventory has led us to this. If they wanted to cover this up, they should have worked a little harder.”
“I don’t think they could create a dummy warhead, sir.” Volkov shook his head. “Perhaps this Karpov is not so clever and conniving as his reputation warrants.”
“Karpov? Why do you grab Karpov’s ear? Volsky is the only one who could have authorized the use of nuclear weapons. You think Karpov would have rotated a special warhead into their firing plan without his approval? Don’t be stupid.”
