John Schettler - Three Kings

And yet, the tanks would store little more than 50 rounds of their deadly 120mm ammunition. This brigade would likely have considerable replacement stores, but Fedorov knew they were finite. Once the ammunition was gone the tank would just be an impregnable moving pill box. It was 1941, and this was going to be a very long war. In the end, Fedorov knew the power this brigade could wield could be decisive in any given engagement, but it would be a rock in the stream of this war, stalwart, invincible, yet unable to stem the full flood of the madness WWII eventually became. Entire cities were destroyed in single bombing raids here, a conflagration never seen in modern warfare, where casualty rates dropped precipitously.

The US lost 4487 soldiers in the ten year war they fought in Iraq. On the first day of the Normandy invasion, they would lose 2500, and go on to lose 29,000 before that campaign concluded, with another 11,000 British deaths and 30,000 Germans. And though very significant, that battle was not decisive. The fight would continue in the Market Garden campaign, the Battle of the Bulge, and the battles fought to cross the Rhine before Germany finally was beaten.

The loss of a division or two here would not stop the German war machine. The Germans lost well over half a million men at Stalingrad and still fight on. The Russians lost over a million there. This Brigade could win any engagement it fought while its ammunition lasted, but that was the end of it. The effect its presence here would have on the war itself would depend entirely on how, where, and whenits awesome power was used.

Now he thought of Karpov, ever seeking that decisive moment in history to bring the full might of Kirov’s weapons to the cauldron of war. Karpov may have been misguided, selfish and headstrong, but in one thing he was correct. Kirov was a lever that could move a mountain if placed at precisely the right place, its tremendous power fully applied. Even now Admiral Volsky was thinking to decide the balance of naval power in the Mediterranean Sea in one decisive battle. The same would apply here with this brigade. But would even this be enough? How would the Germans react? Might they send even more troops and material to challenge this new foe, or initiate vast new programs to gain these new “wonder weapons” for their own use?

But there stood Popski, unaware of any of this, yet soon to be shaken by the hard reality of what was about to happen. How could he bring him to that understanding, bridge that 80 year gulf between Kinlan and Peniakoff and see them shake hands as one?

“Popski,” he said, quietly. “Have you ever seen uniforms like those worn by these men?”

“Can’t say as I have. Those helmets are unlike any used by the Tommy’s, and the same goes for those rifles they’re carrying, but they look like they’ll do the job well enough.”

“And have you ever seen armored vehicles like these? Look at those tanks!”

“Those are real beasts,” said Popski. “Have to be entirely new. They’re magnificent!”

“They are,” said Fedorov. “And have you ever seen a contraption like the one that we flew in to get here, our helicopter? For that matter, have you ever seen a ship like mine, or rockets that could do what we demonstrated earlier during that air attack on the Suez Canal?”

“I was there to see that!” said Popski. “Rumors make the rounds fast in Cairo, and we heard a fancy Russian ship was coming through, so I went over to the canal when you came in and saw the whole thing. Marvelous! You fellows have a few of those for our ships?”

“I wish it were so, but our ammunition is limited. That’s why we use it carefully, and sparingly, and only when it counts.”

“Smart enough,” said Popski.

“These weapons, these machines, I know they impress you, but don’t they seem fantastic?”

“That they do. One look at a tank like that will drain the blood from this General Rommel’s face, and that’s a fact.”

“Quite so, and it will drain the blood from his men as well, literally. Popski…”

He wanted to tell him that tank could not have been built by the British industries of today; that the craft of its making would not be possible for another sixty to eighty years. Then he realized this man would simply never understand the real truth, so why did he have to know? Popski would believe the tank was here, right before his eyes, but never grasp that it could have come here from the future. That would be the experience of most here. They would never know the real truth, though they would rejoice that Achilles had come to the fight, an invincible champion in this hour of need-Achilles, with one weakness in the limited duration of his power. Yet he realized now that to fully explain this situation to Kinlan, he would need to rely on his own limited skills in English, and he wished Nikolin were here. He was going to have to tell this man something that General Wavell did not even know yet!

“Must be a prototype,” he said at last, leaving Popski in the innocence of unknowing. Some would eventually know the real truth. Wavell would have to be one of them, and O’Connor was on the way here at this moment. Other men highly placed in the British army and government would certainly have to know. The rest of that impossible truth would still be protected by that bodyguard of lies, as Churchill might put it.

“I think that I will try to speak with General Kinlan on my own now, if you don’t mind. I can manage a bit of English.”

“Have a go if you wish. Maybe you can talk sense into the man.”

Fedorov checked with Popski on a few words he was uncertain of, words like displacement and detonation, and then he had him ask for a private conference with the Brigadier, which Kinlan granted. His report had come back, and he had an odd look on his face. The two men went off near an FV432 command vehicle and Fedorov began his faltering attempt to communicate.

“Forgive my English. You’re report? It is concluded?”

“It has, and it seems you were correct, Captain. My men report the site is… well the whole damn facility has vanished! What is going on here? What kind of trick have you Russians pulled?”

Fedorov struggled to get all of that, but the essence came through. “No tricks,” he said. “An accident.”

“Accident? There were millions of pounds worth of equipment and facilities back there. What kind of accident could have them go missing short of another of your damn warheads? Either that or my patrol got lost. They certainly weren’t all carted off by the Berbers, or buried by that sandstorm. Right?”

“No second warhead,” said Fedorov. “It was the first.”

“The first? Well we got that one. At least we got two of the three, and the last was off target to the east. Those facilities were completely intact when we moved our column out.”

“The attack… it caused big accident. Odd effect of nuclear detonation, like EMP.”

“EMP? That might fry electronics, but it bloody well could not account for what we’re talking about here.”

“Not EMP… similar strange effect of detonation. Causes big problem with time.”

“A problem with time? I don’t follow you.”

“Sorry. I will try again… Detonation changes time, breaks time. It can make things move in time. Understand?”

“Move in time? That’s bosh.”

“Bosh?”

“It’s nonsense! What are you talking about?”

“Not bosh. Is real truth. Your men just found General O’Connor. He is the real man… General Richard O’Connor, and you will soon see. Your base at Sultan Apache remains there, in year 2021. But you are not there. Your men, your brigade, all displaced in time due to detonation. Big accident! I know for sure. Because this happened to my ship.”