He stopped, seeing that look on Fedorov’s face that he had come to know only too well. The two men were off by the Plexiglas situation board, where the positions of all the contacts were displayed in green and red symbols, updated in real time from information fed by the radar sets and processed by Kirov’s SA computer module. Situational Awareness was always the first order of business. You could not fight an enemy unless you first knew where he was, what he was, and by extension, what he was capable of.
The news that he now had 32 of the much more efficient S-400 missiles under deck was encouraging, but Fedorov had that look that spelled trouble. “What is wrong,” said Karpov. “You look like someone just told you your grandma died.”
“Something has changed,” said Fedorov, keeping his voice low. “You are correct sir, the first ship arrived here with 64 S-300s, but apparently not this time—not in the second coming. Neither of us ever stopped to check on something like that. Everything on the ship seems as it was. In fact, You and Samsonov even discussed the missile inventory earlier, the S-300s. You told him you were pleased when he reported inventory on hand after each missile expended.”
“Yes… I recall that now.” Karpov turned. “Mister Samsonov, do you recall our earlier conversation regarding the S-300 Missile inventory?”
“Yes sir.”
“Didn’t you report the inventory at 61 missiles after those first expenditures?”
“Sir? I was reporting on the S-Class missile system as a whole, which can hold many different missile types, the S-300 base model, S-300F, S-300 FM, S-300-PMU-3C—which was redesignated the S-400.”
“Of course,” said Karpov. “As you were. Mister Rodenko, any further threats?”
“None sir. Nothing on my screens, though I’m getting some long range clutter from the southwest now. It looks like formations of aircraft.”
“Range?”
“140 nautical miles.”
“Time for that in a moment,” said Karpov, thinking. He gave Fedorov another glance. “Still worried about something?”
“Well,” said Fedorov. “That should not be the case—those S-400s. Something has clearly changed with this second coming, and that means that we caused it to change.”
“We caused it?”
“Who else? It had to be a consequence of our actions prior to July 28th of 1941, and that is a very disturbing thought.”
“Mister Fedorov, Russia is fragmented into three states, the Germans took Moscow, Gibraltar, Malta, and they are landing on the Canary Islands. You are worried about a variation concerning these 32 missiles?”
“Yes, sir. Those other things are certainly much more significant, but they are here, now, in this timeframe. That is a wave of consequence that is still underway and moving forward very slowly—in real time, if you will. But for a change to have migrated all the way forward to 2021 when this ship departed Vladivostok—that is something I find very alarming.”
“But it is only a few missiles.”
“At the moment.” He gave Karpov those dark, warning eyes. “Drop a stone in a pool of water, and the ripples migrate out. In the beginning the frequency is very tight, but as they progress, the wavelengths increase, and the intensity grows less over time, like a tsunami that sees its energy dissipate over great distances. I suppose I always expected that these changes would have to migrate forward, but I thought that the real consequences could be held here—until these events have run their course.”
“You’re saying that these events are already changing the future—and you did not expect this to happen now?”
“Not yet. Sir… As we approached Paradox Hour—July 28th, last year, things began to happen on the ship—some very strange things, as I have told you. I’ve given that a good deal of thought, and I think those events may be linked to changes that migrated forward in time. Men started to go missing, and now I think it was because something in the long chain of causality was broken—their life line annulled, and time could no longer justify their continued existence. Understand sir? When we change this present, we will also change the future—all the days between this moment and this ship’s point of departure in 2021. Those men may have vanished because they never even existed—just like the names on that list Volkov squeezed out of Zolkin, the men we lost in combat on the first ship. When we returned to Vladivostok, it was as if they never existed.”
“And you are thinking that if something like our missile inventory has changed….”
Fedorov nodded. “Let me put it to you this way… Suppose we change something here that has a catastrophic effect on the line of causality, so much so that time cannot account for our presence here any longer. Don’t you understand sir? The very fact that this ship was even built rests on a big stack of plates—WWII, its outcome, the post war alignments, the cold war. Suppose they never build this ship. Yes, we could do something here that would lead to that, and apparently the consequences of our actions here are already starting to reach 2021, small ripples at first, small changes, but there could be a tsunami out there, moving inexorably forward in time, and every missile we fire increases that energy. Look what we’re doing here at this very moment—dueling with an Aegis class destroyer in 1942!”
Karpov blinked, thinking. Then Rodenko reported again, and the Admiral inclined his head, listening, though his eyes were still locked on Fedorov.
“Sir, missile launch detected by MR-800 Flag radar system at 188 degrees, 60 nautical miles. They’re firing at our KA-40. It’s an SM-2.”
Now Karpov turned. “Not very sporting of them. Signal that helo to drop elevation at once, get them right down on the deck. Do we still have a fix with our other helo?”
“It’s being jammed, but I still have good confidence on the contact location.”
“Then it’s time we settled this. Mister Samsonov, Moskit II system. Set attack profile to extreme low altitude with evasion on final approach. Eight missiles please. Target the contact and fire when ready. Rodenko. How’s our KA-40?”
“Descending… Descending… They’re using ECM now sir… I think they’ve spoofed that missile.”
“Good. If they survive, have them climb again and reacquire the contact to help our missiles along. Now let’s see how they like our Sunburns.”
“I’ve reacquired the KA-40,” said Otani. “They dropped elevation and hit our last missile with ECM.”
“Put one more on the damn thing,” said Harada. “Let’s keep them dancing.”
“Incoming!” said Otani. “J/OPS-28C has a missile at 20 nautical miles. SPY confirms, multiple contacts inbound.”
“Mister Honjo, weapons free. Knock them down.”
“Salvo of eight missiles this time—Sunburns.” Otani tagged the threat, and everyone on the bridge tensed up. They weren’t seeing these missiles until they broke the horizon at about 20 miles, which meant the Russians were also doing a number on their Sea King’s radar. Admiral Kurita had them in his binoculars at about the same time as they streaked past his position, one after another, a long train of potential destruction.
“That will make twelve in all,” said Fukada. “With what they threw at other targets earlier, this looks like they’re pushing all their chips out on one last number.”
He was wrong in that, for he was still assuming Kirov would have only 20 SSMs aboard, when in fact it left Severomorsk with three times that number. In they came, and only Otani could see it playing out in real time. It was coming down to seconds now, not minutes. Soon the watch called out they had tail fire on the Mark 1 Eyeball. Then Harada gave an order that no one expected.