John Schettler - Grand Alliance

Sims scratched his head. “Look, General, there’s only one thing to do here. Reality has a way of rearing up like a stone fence, no matter what we think of it. I say we head north as planned. There will either be RoRo ships waiting for us at Mersa Matruh… Or we’ll run into Rommel and his Afrika Korps.”

“And the men? Am I going to have to go through this with the whole rank and file one by one? I thought the very same thing the Major did here-that the Russians were up to no good. But that didn’t explain away any of the hard evidence we uncovered.”

“You could say nothing of this,” said Sims. “If it’s all a fairy tale then the road north will hopefully be uneventful. But I’d suggest we keep the air defense units on full alert.”

“And if it’s not a fairy tale? What if the Russians were telling us the truth and it is 1941?”

“Then woe betide General Rommel,” Sims smiled. “That’s the wall I was talking about, sir. He’s either out there as we speak, or not. Time will tell. It’s as plain as that. As to the men… We do an all points signal and notify all units. You get on and lay it all out. Tell them there’s been an anomaly, some odd effect of that ICBM attack, and we’re looking at some unanswerable questions. Tell them what the Russians said about it, preposterous as that sounds. Yes, they’ll have a good laugh, and you can laugh right along with them. But then tell them we’re going north, and if, by any chance, we do run into the German Army… Well tell them they’ll know what to do about it. Yes sir. Let them find out as we do, by heading north and walking right up to that wall if it’s there. Things will sort themselves out after that, I can assure you.”

Kinlan nodded gravely, his eyes tormented, yet knowing that was the only course they could take. “Major?”

Isaac shrugged, shaking his head. “By all means,” he said half heartedly. “We go north as Sims says. At least that way we all become fools at the same time, and no one can point a finger at anyone else and call him a madman. We all just go stark raving mad together. Shall we?”

“Very well,” said Kinlan. “I’ll want to brief all battalion commanders here personally. Have they arrived yet?”

“They’re all here sir,” said his Chief of Staff, Sims, “waiting just up the line with the artillery.”

“We’ll bring them in on this shortly, and we’ll have to throw the same bucket of ice water in their faces that I just dumped on Major Isaac here. I’ll want them ready for anything when we move north. But first I’ll want senior staff briefed on this, and on our planned movement north in the next 24 hours.”

“We’re taking the whole brigade?” Sims had one last question.

“No, I’m sending the Gurkha Light Infantry Battalion to Siwa, just in case those really were Italian infantry in those photos. They certainly weren’t Egyptian Army, and they certainly weren’t Berbers. This Fergusson fellow at Siwa might be glad to have a little company. The rest of the mechanized elements move north. But I’ll want to know what we’re up against, one way or another. We have no idea what’s really going on-no reliable sit-rep.”

“What about that Russian Helicopter?”

“My thoughts exactly,” said Kinlan. “Gentlemen, I think it’s time you met this Russian Captain that Reeves rounded up out here… and someone else.”

Fedorov had struggled for some time with everything that was happening, and Popski did not have to work too hard at finding out what was going on. Fedorov realized that if he were to communicate here in any way that could be convincing, he would have to rely on Popski for the moment. The man would simply have to know what was happening, who they were, yet he felt a deep reluctance to reveal the information. Something told him that they wanted to keep this secret for as long as possible, but here he was, in the midst of an entire armored brigade from the year 2021. They were going to be pulled into the maelstrom of this war, and there was nothing he could do about that. They were going to know-a few key officers at the outset, yet all the rest in due course. They were all going to know, but what chaos was he now about to unleash upon this world?

He had worried about contaminating the time line, cracking that pristine mirror of history. Look at the damage they had already done! Their homeland was shattered in civil war, a circumstance that now made the prospect of a German victory in WWII very likely. He had long since abandoned any hope that they might ever get the history back on track again. It was broken beyond repair. There were now simply too many men who must know why, and that knowledge would spread like a fatal illness and contaminate this whole world.

What should he do? He wished he had Admiral Volsky here, or Director Kamenski, and he remained haunted by the dreadful, aching feeling that he had been responsible for the hell they had unleashed upon this world. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to be silent, to hold the secret within, but how could he do this with these men here? They were going north and in another 24 hours they were going to learn a very hard truth, one with or without his intervention. That fact alone decided his course. He could not stop what was about to happen. He could no longer hold back the flood-the dam of secrecy was breaking, but what he could do was try to open the sluice gates slowly. He could try to channel and guide what happened next, as best he could.

It was his doing, he thought. Admiral Volsky wasn’t here, and Director Kamenski wasn’t here, so this was all on his shoulders now. It was up to him.

“Alright, Popski,” he said just as Sims was waving them to approach. “You are going to hear some things now that will sound unbelievable, but bear with me. I tried my best to speak with General O’Connor earlier, but I will need you to translate here now, and this is of critical importance. Stay with me, believe in me, and do your best.”

“Alright, Captain. I’ve had my notions that something was amiss here, but you have your say.”

“Popski…” Fedorov gave him a long look. “You might think I’m making a fool of myself, and you in the bargain here, but I assure you, everything you are about to hear is the truth.”

The truth… a terrible truth. A secret about to be revealed that could shake this world to the core. That was how Fedorov began his briefing, feeling the awful weight grow heavier on him with each word he spoke.

“I will see the unbelief in your eyes,” he said with Popski translating. “And yes, I know that you may look upon me as your enemy, though I offer my hand in friendship now, and I speak to you with absolute fidelity and sincerity. Yet the information I must now disclose is critical, the darkest secret the world has ever known. I do not use these words lightly. Secret. Yes, My ship and crew have lived with the burden that word implies since the accident I will soon reveal to you-a mishap that changed the course of history itself. Only one man among us is entirely convinced that he has his feet firmly planted in the here and now-General O’Connor. He will tell you to a certainty that this is the year 1941, and you must believe him, as I have had to believe this same terrible truth. Yet he now struggles to believe that we now stand here like dark angels from another world, with weapons and power at our disposal unlike anything this world has ever seen.”

He looked from one officer to another now, seeing various reactions in the eyes of the men, and when his gaze fell on O’Connor he felt an upwelling of compassion for the man. The innocence of his life was now forever gone. He would never be the same man again after hearing all this.

“Yes,” Fedorov continued, “that is how many might perceive us. This world may not be able to hear what you must now hear and know. The collective arms of every soul on this earth may not be able to hold what you must now grasp. Can you imagine it? This knowledge is, in itself, a force of chaos and terrible power. My crew learned all of this the hard way, in the fire of combat. Your men, each and every one, will soon learn the same way. Yet though it was easy to contain this terrible knowledge on a single ship, hidden in the vast oceans of the world, that will not be the case here if this brigade goes north, as it certainly must in the hours ahead.”