John Schettler - 9 Days Falling, Volume I

They were coming. He heard the hoarse cries of Japanese infantry as they emerged from their trench line farther up the hill and began to charge. The situation was beginning to look desperate.

Then he heard the welcome sound of 130mm rounds come soaring in from behind him and took heart. He looked to see explosive rounds landing right on the enemy position, with pinpoint precision as if they had been fired from point blank range. Two, four, six, eight, the rounds came in a withering barrage that raked across the enemy trench line and struck the bunkers there. Then rounds fell right atop the Japanese shore battery, easily penetrating the concrete casemates and putting the guns out of action.

Kirov had answered the call.

It wasa split decision. Karpov and the young Captain Ryakhin agreed that something should be done to further the interests of Russia after the war, and that the ships they commanded had the power to make the Americans and British take notice, and hear their demands. Doctor Zolkin had been completely opposed to the idea, urging the fleet officers to walk gently on the eggshells of history, as he put it, and the older Captain Yeltsin had enough reservations to agree with him. There were no other officers of sufficient rank in the flotilla to poll, and in the end Karpov had to exercise his authority as acting Fleet Commander to rule the day.

They lingered in the Sea of Okhotsk until Karpov had dispatched a stealthy KH-226 on a secret night mission to Vladivostok. The team of three Marines was able to get ashore unnoticed and make their way to the Naval Logistics building, even as Fedorov and Troyak had done so nearly three years earlier. The small raid would have dramatic repercussions, for after picking the lock, the letter the Marines left there would sit undisturbed for the next seventy-six years.

In a curious twist, the Marine Team leader radioed Karpov and told him that when they went to place his letter in the jacket pocket of the naval officer’s coat they found there, it was already occupied by another note!

Karpov had a sudden realization, and a stab of emotion when he heard that. Fedorov, he thought. It had to be Fedorov’s note! The image of the industrious young officer he had once disdained and then came to like and respect so much brought a smile to his face. Then his features clouded over, and he dismissed the Marine with a well done and carry on.

In a strange twist on these events, when Volkov had leapt from the shadows just days earlier in 2021, he had seen only the note from Fedorov. Volkov could not have seen Karpov’s letter there before the Captain would ever have reason to dispatch it. Yet the instant Kirov and the other two ships were again swept through the centuries by the explosive Demon Volcano, all history had changed again, ever so subtly, but decisively. Both letters should have been there when Volkov opened that locker, but Time decided to deliver the mail on different days. It was, in fact, an alternate time line now, and Karpov had his hand on the tiller at a most decisive moment.

The Captain was steering east again, staring at the broken, cratered cone of the Demon Volcano on the northern tip of the Iturup/Urup Island group to his south and experiencing a strange moment that seemed like Déjà vu.

Nikolin had been monitoring radio traffic and reported something odd that morning. “It keeps fading in and out, sir. Very strange.”

“And you say it’s calling us?”

“Yes, sir— Kirov . I can read that very plainly. Kirov , where are you?”

“Well have you checked with Orlan and Golovko?”

“Yes sir. Neither ship has radioed. They’re maintaining radio silence as ordered.”

Karpov thought about that for a moment, and then went over to the plotting table where he had Fedorov’s book to check on something. Minutes later he was smiling. “Good ears, Mister Nikolin, but don’t worry about it. The Soviets are running an operation just north of us. There’s a border patrol ship named Kirov with a few old minesweepers and trawlers to occupy Sakhalin Island and the northern Kuriles. Have you heard the name Ponomarev?”

“Yes sir,” said Nikolin. “I did hear that name.”

“He was in charge of the Petropavlovsk Naval Defense Sector here in 1945, at least according to Fedorov’s book. He commanded the naval flotilla.”

“How ironic,” said Rodenko. “ Kirov meets Kirov in the Kuriles.”

“Karpov grinned at him. Then consulted his book. “It looks like the Russians ran into more than they expected in this operation. They’re going to lose over 1500 men in this little invasion. That’s expensive for a useless hunk of rock.” He turned his head to one side and looked at Rodenko.

“Mister Rodenko. Tell the KA-226 to get over and scan that northernmost island. Have them feed radar returns to Samsonov. Use Infrared as well. I want them to pinpoint the main Japanese defense line.”

“You’re thinking of rendering assistance?”

“If we can’t help our boys out there then what’s it all for?” said Karpov. “Why do you think we have on these uniforms?”

Within the hour the KA-226 had reported back with a stream of digital data for Samsonov’s CIC station. The Captain ordered him to activate Kirov’s 130mm deck guns, three twin batteries that could fire at enormous range with pinpoint accuracy. He looked at his watch—a little after 9:00 hrs.

“Let’s lend our Marines a hand, Samsonov. Open fire!”

It didn’t take long. Kirov’s guns were right on target, taking out numerous bunkers and disabling the enemy shore batteries at a critical moment. The barrage also broke the back of the second Japanese counterattack, buying the Russians much needed time to land more supplies and infantry. Soon Colonel Yeremenko would have his artillery and mortars ashore, and the situation would reach parity, then slowly tip his way. The war would be over in the next 24 hours.

Karpov turned to Rodenko. “Well we need not worry about our northern flank any longer. We’ll steer for the lower channels and get out into the Pacific. What do we have down south, Rodenko?” Karpov knew what he was going to say even before he spoke. “You’re going to tell me you have contacts on a large naval task force there. Yes?” the Captain said matter of factly.

“Why…Yes sir. It just came up on the Fregat system as surface returns. The KA- 226 picked it up earlier.”

The Captain went to Rodenko’s station, looking over his shoulder, smiling when he saw the clear blips indicating unknown surface contacts to the south.

“They’re about 150 miles off the Island of Honshu, due east of Amori / Misawa. Note those secondary returns there, sir. Those are aircraft. This must be a carrier task force.”

“How very interesting,” said Karpov. “Seventy six years from now our ship was facing Captain Tanner and his carrier battlegroup in almost this exact same location. Now here we face the same situation, only things are different this time. We appeared to be overmatched by the American Navy in 2021, yet I dealt with them easily enough. Now we are but three ships, and look at the number of radar returns there! It seems we are outnumbered again. Yet appearances can be deceiving,” he smiled.

“What are we going to do, sir? Those ships are definitely heading our way.”

“They’ll most likely have air reconnaissance up shortly. Probably wondering what happened to that damn submarine, and those impudent little destroyers that wanted to order us off.” He turned to his communications officer. “Mister Nikolin, get Yeltsin on the Orlan on the radio for me, and notify Captain Ryakhin on Admiral Golovko that he is to assume Air Alert Two and stand by.”