“Ah, yes,” said Volsky. “I was told something about that—most alarming.”
“Indeed,” said Tovey. “To think they have such a weapon is more than unsettling. It’s got the whole government here in a tizzy. We took a crack at their development center, and threw over 500 bombers at the place, but I’m not sure we had any success.”
“And your request has something to do with this?”
“It does,” said Tovey. “I suppose it goes along the lines of fighting fire with fire….” He let that hang there, and Volsky knew exactly what he meant.
“That is a very grave matter,” said Volsky.
“I fully understand that, but this was our reasoning, if such madness can be sanitized by claiming it was born of reasoned deliberation at all. That attack on London was utterly chilling. If the Germans are getting close to deployment on any scale for this weapon, then we face utter disaster. Now, I’m not sure if your mission could change all of that, but in this war, here and now, we think we’ve found their nest for this program, and if we could get it with one fell blow, the scientists, materials, facilities, prototypes and all, then we might put this fire out before it becomes a conflagration that could consume this entire world. If they get this weapon, it will certainly make our chances of winning this war a very dim prospect. We simply must find a way to stop them. So I thought of you, your ship, and the weapons you have told me about on more than one occasion.”
“Fighting fire with fire,” said Volsky. “How very true that would be, but also quite terrible.”
“Yes, we do understand that. Yet think of one other possible outcome here. If we were to do this, we might then also make a back-channel communication to Hitler that offers a truce, at least insofar as that weapon is concerned. After all, we still have an understanding concerning things like Mustard gas and the like. If Hitler thinks we have these weapons, and the will to use them, then he might be persuaded to embrace such an agreement. It could matter a very great deal. In fact, it could be the single most important mission of this war.”
Chapter 36
It loomed in the sky, a massive presence over the bay, as long as the ship itself. Kirov had sailed north, moving well out into the Pacific to make the journey, until it finally arrived at Petropavlovsk, on the western shores of Kamchatka. This was the harbor that Karpov had taken from the Japanese in the early stages of his Plan 7 offensive, and now it served as his principle Pacific port, at least in the warmer months while it remained ice free.
Geography was never kind to mother Russia. She could never find good warm water ports that opened on the major oceans. Even Vladivostok, which Karpov had vowed to regain, was ice-bound in the winter. Ever since Peter the Great, Russia has sought to expand her borders to reach those deep blue waters where the warm currents keep ports ice free, but she had always been blocked. This time, it was Imperial Japan in the way, roosting on Dailan, Port Arthur, and now even controlling Vladivostok.
Karpov’s war with the Japanese had lapsed into a long stalemate on Sakhalin Island. While Kirov was away, the Japanese could ferry an endless stream of reinforcements to the troops holding the line there. With so many Siberian troops now fighting for Sergei Kirov, Karpov, the younger, simply could not build up enough ground strength to overcome the Japanese and push south. The best he could do was hold the ground he had taken by surprise. As for the remainder of Plan 7, it had ground to a halt under the weight of logistics. It was simply not possible to support an army capable of moving overland from the Sea of Okhotsk to Vladivostok. With few or no roads to move supplies and heavy equipment, everything had to be done by the airship fleet, and it simply wasn’t large enough to support an army capable of posing any real threat to the objective.
So Plan 7 became a point of honor. Karpov had taken Kamchatka, half of Sakhalin, and he had held those territories. In spite of his repeated offers to invite American bombers to his new sovereign territory, the region was too foggy in the warm months, and too cold and ice otherwise. There was only a narrow window for good operations, in the spring and autumn, and that simply wasn’t good enough.
The younger Karpov had become the de facto Premier while the Siberian was away fencing with the Japanese at sea. He had then focused his attention on securing Omsk, and expanding the perimeter in that region. Though the German operation in the Caucasus forced Volkov to transfer many divisions from that front, Orenburg still had just enough to hold the Siberians at bay, and continued to float peace proposals to try and get itself out of the dilemma it was in now, with enemies on every frontier. When Volkov broke with Germany, Hitler pressed the Japanese to begin putting pressure on Orenburg’s far eastern frontiers. They had mounted a few excursions, but Japan had no real interest in expanding in that direction, and frankly, the Empire needed no new enemies.
Kirov had come to Petropavlovsk with Kazan, largely to get to safe waters. Radar equipped Zeppelins now made regular patrols out beyond the Kuriles, and they could serve as early warning pickets for any move by Admiral Kita’s little fleet. For their part, after meeting with Yamamoto, Kita had been persuaded to sail home to Japan, through the Bungo Channel, into the Inland Sea and on up to lay anchor at Hiroshima Bay, northwest of Kure. There they appeared like any other ship out in the bay, while Admiral Nagano planned to meet with Yamamoto and the interlopers from another time, to decide how they would be utilized in Japan’s war with the United States.
Now Karpov, the Siberian, was ready to consider options for their fateful mission to 1908. The difficulties had all been identified. They knew there would be a narrow window if they tried to reach the place on their own. Volsky was reluctant to make the journey himself, Fedorov would always have to arrive days after Sergei Kirov had taken the train east to Irkutsk. Karpov’s “service window” was very narrow, but one man, Tyrenkov, could undertake the mission without these limitations and restrictions.
Tyrenkov had already traversed the staircase, reaching a place and time where he had been able to identify Ivan Volkov, and so it was decided that he would become the messenger of Death for this mission, with a select group of the Marines who called themselves exactly that—the Black Death.
While this plan was being finalized, Admiral Volsky approached the group with news of the most unusual request put forward by Tovey.
“It was so good to hear his voice again,” said Volsky. “I can still clearly see his face in my mind, though I must admit there is still one corner of this old head that knows I have never met the man, at least in that life. How strange this all is. Now then… Here is what Tovey asks of us, and it comes directly from their Mister Churchill.”
Volsky related the fear that had gripped the British government after the stunning attack over London, and with a weapon unlike any other that had been used in this war.
“I still cannot understand how the Germans could have deployed such a weapon,” said the Siberian. “What could we have done to change the time line on their development of Atomic weapons?” He looked at Fedorov, but the Captain had no ideas on that.
“The fact remains,” said Volsky, “that they have at least developed a small prototype weapon, and that attack on London was its first deployment. We have already seen the early introduction of the Panzerfaust, and we all know why. Kinlan’s appearance has strongly spurred development of new and better armor on the German side, and the use of our missiles at sea may have had a similar effect. Look what the Germans did in the Black Sea. They have already used a rudimentary version of their V-1 cruise missile, and the Fritz-X radio controlled glide bomb. Now the British are terrified that the next raid over London will hit a much more important target. They have had to disperse their entire governmental infrastructure.”