John Schettler - 9 Days Falling, Volume I

“Finish the job?”

“Look, Doctor, think clearly now. You know what happens from here on out, yes? The US and Britain ride roughshod over the rest of the world. The cold war has already started. MacArthur is shitting his pants to think the Soviets here might occupy northern Japan. They’ll wear us down for fifty years until it all collapses, and then by 2021 we’re going to be fighting the Americans for our lives again. It’s going to happen, one way or another…Unless I stop it.”

“Unless you stop it? Forgive me, Captain, but you are beginning to sound like your old self again. What are you suggesting?”

“Their entire fleet is there. All the dignitaries are going to meet on the battleship Missouri and watch Japan surrender.”

“So what’s on your mind? Are you going to sail into Sagami Bay with these three ships? And then what?”

“I haven’t decided that yet.”

Zolkin gave him a long look. “You’re serious? You are actually considering intervention here? I thought we went over and over this on the ship when Volsky was here.”

“That was different. We didn’t know about the next war then. Now we know—the world is going to be blown to hell unless we do something about it. To be frank I didn’t think there was much Kirov could do in the year 2021 to forestall that. Volsky said it would eventually come down to blood and steel, the old fashioned way, but those things have obvious limitations. When they took that thing off the ship—Rod-25—I’ll admit I felt strangely deflated, mortal again, if that makes any sense. Yet it’s happened again, and who knows why. Here we are again, an order of magnitude more powerful than any ship afloat. In fact, considering that we received a new allotment of heavy weapons, we are more powerful than that entire fleet out there.”

“Heavy weapons? You mean nuclear weapons, don’t you.” Zolkin folded his arms, clearly unhappy. “So it’s come round to this old song and dance again. What are you thinking to do, threaten the United States Pacific Fleet with annihilation? Well if I’m not mistaken the Americans have a few atomic weapons of their own by this time, don’t they. So what are you going to do, Karpov, start a nuclear war here so we can avoid a bigger one later?”

“That would make sense, Doctor, at least from a military perspective.”

“Make sense? It’s insane, Captain. Yes, you are a man of war, and I’m a physician. But this isn’t a garden we’re talking about here. This isn’t a matter of nipping something in the bud before the weeds spread too far. You’re talking about killing people now. Realize that—murdering thousands if they won’t accede to your demands. I can assure you that they won’t take kindly to you if you try to crash their party, nor will they allow you to push them around. They’ve just won the goddamned Second World War, Karpov! Now you come sailing up and want to start the third.”

“I can see it’s futile discussing this with you,” said Karpov. “But if it will calm you down I will say that nothing has been decided yet. I want to meet with the Captains of Orlan and Admiral Golovko first and discuss the matter. Remember, they have no idea what has happened—no idea at all.”

“If the sudden change of weather hasn’t clued them in, then they’ll find out soon enough on the radio, just as you did.”

“I’ve already signaled them and ordered complete radio silence. Right now they are busy washing the ash and silt from that monster volcano off the decks and equipment. This evening I will receive Captains Ryakhin and Yeltsin here in the officer’s dining hall for a briefing. Then we will decide what to do.”

“May I attend?”

“If you wish. I came to you to seek your opinion. We’ve had our differences before, Zolkin; there’s no question about that. You may speak your mind, but if we make a decision that you disagree with, be man enough to keep your place and don’t make a fuss about it.”

Zolkin looked Karpov in the eye. “If you think I’ll sit here like a good little Doctor and watch you drop another atomic weapon on Sagami Bay, then you’re not only a madman, but a fool. I’ll scream bloody hell!”

“Look Doctor, no one said anything about bombing Sagami Bay. Please don’t get hysterical and force me to confine you to quarters. The men need you.”

“You have already tried that trick once with Volsky, Captain. What did it get you?”

“Volsky isn’t even born yet!” The venom in Karpov’s voice told Zolkin more than the words. “Get that through you head, eh? I admit I was a fool to do what I did last time, but circumstances have changed. If we are to prevent the future we saw, then we have to act. Can’t you see that? You think I can avoid detection indefinitely out here? They’re going to find out about us, and my guess is that when they do they’ll come in shooting first. They’ll assume we’re a renegade Japanese ship this time.”

“Only if you start taking shots at their ships.”

“You said it yourself, Doctor. They just won the damn war. They’ll come sailing up with demands and orders, and I’m not one to be pushed right now. If they get in my face, they’ll regret it.”

“And then you get your war…”

Zolkin sighed heavily, imposing a measure of calm on himself. “I guess it is true what they say, that a leopard never changes its spots. I was proud of you, Karpov. We all were. You were in the most difficult situation imaginable, and you redeemed yourself admirably. Now… show me the real man in there. Who are you? The real man had better take hold of himself, and damn soon, because he’s wearing Captain’s bars and standing on a ship that can blow the world to hell and back with the push of a button!”

Karpov looked down, obviously conflicted, yet torn. The siren’s song of time was singing loudly to him now, calling him to glory, and to unimaginable power. Yet Zolkin’s voice scored him, touching the old wounds that he had struggled to heal in the months past. What would he do?

“Dinner is tonight at zero-six-hundred hours,” he said quietly. “You are invited.”

Then he set his cap on his forehead, nodded to Zolkin and stepped out the hatch.

MackMorgan sat with his head in his hands, thinking. “Now what are those Russian bastards up to in the Caspian?”

He had been receiving decrypts on the Russian military channels. Their super secret Oracle decrypt system had been laboring all through the night to decode the traffic, and something was up. The Russians had begun moving assets off shore near Makhachkala and their naval base at Kaspiysk. It looked like they were busy activating a large floating nuclear power facility there, the Anatoly Alexandrov. But the other assets involved aroused his curiosity. They had small patrol craft, fast hovercraft, a company of naval marines, and now a most unusual addition with the Mi-26 helicopter, which landed on the flat reinforced upper helipad on the Alexandrov .

He twisted a few arms to get some very valuable time on a satellite and was able to obtain a few decent high resolution images. “Will you look at that,” he breathed. The Russkies are loading fuel into that helo, or I’m deaf, dumb and blind, he thought. This looks like the makings of a Spetsnaz operation, and the list of potential targets available in this region is short and sweet. Where could they be going?

He did some thinking. That Mi-26 was a good long range work horse. It could get out almost 2000 kilometers, so why the big load of extra fuel? They would only need that if they planned to exceed that range. Suppose they double it…He was looking at a very big circle on his map, realizing the mission could be going anywhere from Central Asia to the Persian Gulf. Hell, they could fly all the way to Rome after landing to refuel. What were they up to?