The odds were steep, but the Admiral had an unseen comrade in arms, a man named Vladimir Karpov, who had shaken the mantle of grief from his shoulders over the loss of his brother self, and turned to the one sure thing that would focus his mind and energy again—combat at sea.
Chapter 23
Kirov had come a long way to get in on the action here, which was no problem for Karpov’s flagship, but required Kursk to find fuel. The US graciously sent an oiler up from Darwin, and Kursk topped off in the East Java Sea before they continued west. They were now in the heart of Indonesia, the old “Dutch East Indies” that were such a bone of contention in WWII.
“Well Karpov, this is a tall order,” said Fedorov. “The Chinese have a great many ships out there now, and help from the Americans is still 1500 miles to the northeast.”
“They don’t have to come all the way down here, Fedorov. In fact, they could attack us now, presuming they were the old hostile force we faced so many times. Remember, their Tomahawk has a 1600 mile range. Besides, they have an aircraft carrier, so they will probably just sail into the west Celebes Sea and throw air strikes across Borneo. That’s what I’d do if the Kremlin were here.”
“Yes, and if we had planes on it that could make air strikes,” said Fedorov.
“Don’t remind me. Yes, why build an aircraft carrier if you don’t make one that can fight? No other nation on earth has been able to build a carrier that could remotely match the performance of an American big deck ship. They learned well in the last war, and carrier operations have been at the heart of their naval strength ever since. Yet this navy here has its power more distributed, fewer carriers, but with destroyers cruisers and heavier ships that are real monsters in combat. I think they took a leaf from our book, Fedorov. Remember, they were terrorized by a massive battlecruiser with missiles in WWII. The shadow of Kirov lays heavily on them.”
“Strange,” said Fedorov. “You would think they have records, photos of this ship from WWII, and then we suddenly appear here in 2025.”
“Those who knew what we really were, and where we came from, will not be surprised by that,” said Karpov. “The Royal Navy certainly knew about us, and formed that group to keep a watch on us. Surely they told the Americans.”
“I would assume so,” said Fedorov. “They called us Geronimo, a mysterious raider that seemed to appear out of thin air, and then vanish as the hunting Royal Navy closed in. The Japanese called us Mizuchi, the name of a sea demon.”
“But did they ever really know what we were?”
“Some must have learned our true identity. Remember that modern Japanese ships under Admiral Kita shifted to the past, so men like Yamamoto must have known about us.”
“That must have chilled his blood, to think our presence there was even possible. Well, we lived that through. Now we have another war to fight. What will happen here? Are we going to watch the British get hammered before we can get up there to help? We’re 450 miles southeast of Singapore.”
“Ah, but with missiles that can range out 700 miles. So we can coordinate with the American Tomahawk strike.”
“Already thinking ahead, aren’t you,” said Fedorov.
“Like any good chess player.”
Fedorov nodded. “How do you feel? Did you get the rest you needed? I realize you took quite a blow.”
“Don’t worry, Fedorov. I’m fine. Yes, I grieve the loss of my brother. Yet his very presence here was terribly haunting in some ways. Imagine seeing yourself thirty years from now, bent with age, and grey. Strangely, now that he’s gone, I feel more myself. I’m all here now, if that makes any sense. My mind is not always drifting out to that of my brother self, wondering what he is experiencing, and worrying about him. Now I know all that—everything he experienced, all memories within me now.”
“I understand,” said Fedorov. “At least I think I do. Face it, we were doppelgangers when we arrived here, and our plan took the lives of our local selves.”
“Unfortunate, but true,” said Karpov. “This may seem callous but, in one sense, I felt that didn’t matter, because here I was, still alive. Time had to choose which of us would survive, and she chose me. That wasn’t the first time that has happened. I survived the coming of my brother, and now he is gone, but I’m still here, all one man now. Time and Fate have chosen me yet again.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” said Fedorov. “Alright, what is your plan here?”
“We’ll continue north towards Singapore. The British have already identified the general position of the Chinese task forces. They’ve even spotted one of their carriers. It will be heavily protected, but that’s never stopped me before. At the moment, it’s about 500 miles from us, and that’s an easy throw for our Zircons. I could swing them over the British fleet, and then dogleg them toward the Chinese—making it look like the British fired them.”
“Better let the Royal Navy know that first. They’ll see missiles headed right at them, and they are very squeamish about speedy lances like the Zircon. They’ve lost a lot of ships.”
“All because they built inadequate air defense into both their destroyers and frigates,” said Karpov. “The Type 42’s they’re still floating are obsolete. Their Daring class is a good ship, with superb radar, but it needs twice the number of Asters to survive in high intensity modern combat. So they’ve already lost a third of all their destroyers. As for their frigates, only the Type 31 is effective. Their Sea Ceptor can’t catch high supersonic or hypersonic missiles, and that makes those ships easy to kill with a missile like the YJ-18, something they stole from us, mind you. So they’ve lost a third of their frigates too. Those are heavy losses—ships, officers, and good crews going into the sea, and all because their Navy did not build ships that could fight and defeat known threats.”
“Strange,” Fedorov agreed.
“Hell,” Karpov continued, “their carriers are so ineffective that the British Admiral Wells had to use his entire air wing defensively, trying to shoot down incoming Chinese missiles. They had no effective strike capability. Sound familiar?”
“Ah,” said Fedorov. “Just like we did when we fought in 2021. I read the report. The British did make a good attack with that Small Diameter Bomb you hated so much.”
“Indeed, but then they were forced onto the defensive because their escorts were inadequately equipped for modern air defense. I’m not demeaning the Royal Navy. God knows they are a fine, professional force at sea. Give them the right tools, and they’ll beat you Monday through Friday. In this case, I think their government’s penny pinching left them in the lurch, even though their navy here is twice the size of the Royal Navy we left behind in 2021. Britannia no longer rules the waves in that history, and they are struggling here too.”
“What did you think of the Chinese Admiral’s performance?”
“Outstanding,” said Karpov. “He had no carriers, very limited air support, yet he used the few assets he had to get his targets, and then he just pounded them. He struck at every weakness in the British fleet that I’ve noted here, and certainly had the victory. No Fedorov, if we beat the Chinese in this war, the United States Navy will really have to step up and do the heavy lifting. That said, let’s see what we can do to help the Royal Navy here. A lot is riding on this. If they lose Singapore as a functioning base, then a standing naval task force will have to be at sea here to keep the Strait of Malacca closed, and given the Chinese tactics to date, it will have to be strong. They are close enough to these objectives to be able to really use mass in their engagements. The situation shaping up in the Indian Ocean is a perfect example. By withdrawing their Mediterranean Fleet, they bulked up their Indian Ocean Fleet to over 40 ships!”