John Schettler - Grand Alliance

Volsky entered with two other men, one the young Lieutenant who would serve as his translator, and the other an older man in civilian dress, bespectacled, wizen with age, yet obviously carrying the wisdom those years had brought to him. He seemed like an amiable old grandfather, but Tovey could see there was something more to the man, a layer beneath that outer shell that spoke of something much deeper. The men all exchanged hearty handshakes, and Nikolin was pleased that Tovey remembered his name as well, taking his seat next to Admiral Volsky. There were still two more place settings at the table, and Nikolin wondered who was missing. He found out soon after when, to his surprise, a woman entered the stateroom, accompanied by a man in a dress white naval uniform, clearly a Captain by rank and bearing.

Cunningham looked up, also raising an eyebrow when he saw Elena Fairchild enter the room. Then he assumed this must be part of the diplomatic mission from Greece, though it seemed somewhat unusual. His reflex for propriety and decorum soon asserted itself, and he stood, as did the other men, politely greeting the woman as she was introduced.

“Miss Elena Fairchild,” said Tovey. “Allow me to welcome you aboard HMS Invincible. Please meet Admiral Andrew Cunningham, Commander of our Mediterranean Fleet and Admiral Leonid Volsky, a special representative of the Russian Navy.”

Fairchild gave Volsky a searching look, then quickly introduced Captain Gordon MacRae as they all took their seats. She had seen the long, dangerous lines of the battlecruiser Kirov, cruising on the far side of the British battleship, and it raised her hackles. There it was, Geronimo, the phantom ship that had bedeviled the British Empire, and led to the foundation of the Watch. When she first received the emergency message from the Russians, she had been shocked to learn the ship was here. From all she knew in her induction as a member of the Watch, Kirov had first appeared in the Norwegian Sea, in late July of 1941. Yet they had determined it to be January of 1941, six months before Kirov supposedly appeared!

The request for parley had been odd enough, but given that the two ships were both on a razor’s edge, it was a welcome reprieve, and much better than a scenario where their missiles would speak to one another in a battle at sea. The news that Admiral Tovey was on the line had been the next shock: “All is well, Argos Fire. All friends here. We request a rendezvous in the Gulf of Chania. Over.” So here she was, and that meeting was now about to convene.

As she seated herself, she gave both Tovey and Volsky a lingering look. There he was, the legend in the flesh, Admiral John Tovey, founding father of the Watch. And there he was, the terror of all their nightmares, the Captain Nemo that had been the object of all their early operations. This man and his ship had been tearing through the history like a sharp knife, and yet, as she looked at Volsky, he did not seem a man who could carry any of the sinister thoughts she had associated with him in her mind. This was obviously a part of the story she knew nothing about. The calm presence of these two men here together, the obvious demeanor of friendship and warmth between them… well it seemed most irregular to her, most unexpected, and she was now wondering how all this had come about.

“Well then,” Tovey began, thinking this to be a most challenging meeting. He had sat through sessions in the Admiralty and War Cabinet, and knew how turbulent the waters could be, but this was something else. Here was a woman, who seemed to know him, or at least know of him, and he had the feeling that she was looking on him with a certain awe and reverence, which he did not quite fathom. And here was Admiral Volsky, who had never met this woman before, though he seemed to know of her ship. They were two birds of a feather in one respect, both impossibly here from that far distant future, but yet, his observant eye perceived some tension between them, and uncertainty. And finally there was Admiral Cunningham, completely in the dark about all of this, and blind to everything before him. He looked as bemused as a boy freshly assigned to his first mission at sea. How would all these loose ends be tied into the same knot here?

“No doubt this meeting was a surprise to all of us, yet here we are, and we’ll make the best of it as we go.” He looked first to Admiral Cunningham, a sympathetic expression on his face. “Admiral, I’m afraid you are about to hear some things that will be most unsettling. In fact, you may conclude that we are all quite daft, but bear with us. Everything will be made clear to you in time. That said, I must tell you that what you will now learn is the most highly classified secret of this war-a secret so dark and inaccessible, that only one other man within the British Government has any knowledge of it, and you will be surprised to learn that our Mister Churchill is not that other man. Bear with me, Andy,” Tovey used the familiar handle that only two friends might share, hoping to ease the shock for Cunningham if he could.

Then he looked at Admiral Volsky, addressing Elena Fairchild as he gestured to the man. “I can see that the presence of Admiral Volsky here and his ship is somewhat unexpected. Let me say that I was once as unknowing about all of this as you both seem to be. Yet it begins with the Admiral here, and with his ship. So perhaps it might be best if I yield the floor to you, Admiral Volsky. If there is any man among us who might sort this whole matter out, I would start with your chair.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” said Volsky, “and may I introduce our Director Kamenski, Russian Intelligence. He has been with us aboard Kirov for some time, and I thought he might be able to help us sort through all of this. In fact, he will likely do a much better job than I could. Director?”

“Admiral,” said Kamenski, “this is one odd kettle of fish we have. Here are two adversaries, and unfortunately so, from a time neither you or Admiral Cunningham here could ever see or imagine. And here you both sit with us, two new friends from a past long removed from us, yet one we have been shaping with our very hands, unknowing at first, and now with more deliberate endeavor. It is a strange enterprise, and a mighty challenge we all face now. Yet I fear that if we are to measure it, and prevail with any sense of sanity, we must all now reach across this table and join our hands in a common understanding. Here we sit, like a group ofblind men around the elephant, each holding onto a piece of the truth as they grope that mighty beast. We all know something of this truth, some more than others, but we must all hear each other now as we describe it to one another, so that we can see the whole as one together, and determine what we must do.” He looked at each one around the table now, the knowing and the unknowing, and smiled. Nikolin completed his translation, and now he continued.

“Opening your eyes and actually seeing the elephant is quite another experience, ladies and gentlemen. To do so we will have to drink of the same cup of poison, I fear, for only then can we die together, and be reborn with some new understanding that can unite all present in one accord. Forgive me if I sound more like a bad poet than a diplomat at times, mixing my metaphors like this, but we have a fine and arcane business before us now, a mystery as deep and unfathomable as time itself, and we are its minions. Admiral Volsky here has asked me to begin this discussion, and yet where to start the tale? I think the only way is to just come right out with it, crazy as it will sound at first blush. My name is Pavel Kamenski, all seventy five years worth, and I was born on the twelfth night of June, in the year 1946…” He let that hang there, waiting to see the reaction of Admiral Cunningham as Nikolin translated.