Harada said nothing more, switching off the handset and returning it to its cradle. “Damned if we do, damned if we don’t,” he muttered. “Lieutenant Commander, what do you make of this?”
“He’s right on one count, sir. We’re sitting here with an empty pistol—except for one thing, the rail gun. We don’t have to close on him to use that. We’ve had the range for the last thirty minutes.”
“Yes, but something tells me that would be like poking a stick in a beehive. Mister Honjo, what’s our SM-2 count looking like?”
“Thinning out, sir. We’ve got 13 forward and 23 more aft. 36 total on that system, and then we have the 12 SM-3s.”
“Anyway you look at it,” said Fukada, “we’ll be an empty shell if he does have another batch of those hypersonic SSMs. Neither of the two SM-2s we fired were able to get a hard target lock before that last missile was in its terminal run. That’s just not good enough. We would have to use the SM-3s, and hope to god we see them coming earlier. We can’t let another of those hypersonic jobs get inside 20 klicks before we pick it up.” Fukada had a hard face, but there was a crack in his bravado that Harada clearly perceived.
“If we do use the rail gun, and get any kind of a hit, bet on him throwing anything he has left,” said Harada.
“I’m not so sure about that,” said Fukada. “He’s already put thirteen missiles on us, and with nothing to show for it. I’m willing to bet that’s more ordnance than he’s used in all other operations here, though that’s a guess. We really have no idea how long he’s been here. The point I’m making, sir, is that those missiles matter. That’s his might and muscle here, and once it’s gone, it’s gone for good, just like our missiles.”
“So you’re suggesting we thumb our nose at this bastard just to get him to burn through his missile inventory?”
“We do that, and we’ve mission killed him, sir. He’ll probably have his SAMs in good numbers, but there is no way he could really hurt the IJN after that. So what I’m betting on is that he knows that as well.”
“Explain.”
“He can’t expend all his ordnance trying to take us out, because if he does, he’s basically just a fast anti-aircraft cruiser after that. In that event, we tell Yamamoto that he needs to hold his carriers in reserve, and then he can go after that bastard with his battleships. I don’t think an S-300 SAM will put much of a dent in Yamato.”
“Well that’s real creative, Mister Fukada. You want me to provoke him into throwing a basket full of hypersonic missiles at us, just so we can spoil his party here. The only problem with that is we may not be here to give that friendly advice to Yamamoto.” Harada thought, and then decided to raise the stakes. He reached for the handset again, and nodded for Shiota to broadcast.
“Now hear this, battlecruiser Kirov. This is the IJN, DDG-180, Takami—come back.”
“BCG Kirov receiving,” came the reply. “Go ahead, Takami.”
“Captain Harada speaking, and you can tell your Admiral Karpov there that we’re not going anywhere. If you’ve got the SSMs, we’ve got the SAMs, so bring it on. Once we pull your teeth, you won’t be much more than a radar picket here, and that’s as good as a K.I.A. as far as I’m concerned. JS-Takami, over and out.”
“Looks like they’ve called our bet,” said Fedorov looking at the Admiral.
“Yes,” said Karpov, “that seems to be the case, but I don’t think it will take all 39 of our remaining SSMs to kill that ship.”
“True, but if they do have the SAMs then we may have to expend a fairly good number to overcome their defense. They know that, and in true Japanese fashion, they are going to stand there and bar the door, come what may.”
“You think they’ll sacrifice their ship just to pull our teeth?”
“That sounds like their plan, sir. How many missiles can we afford to commit here?”
“As many as it takes.” Karpov was angry now. “Those impudent little—”
“Con, radar, those airborne formations are coming up on our 40 mile range circle.”
Karpov pinched his nose, chasing the headache that this entire situation had become. Every time he maneuvered himself to a position where he could make a decisive intervention, something happened to interfere with his plans. In August of 1941, on their first arrival, it had been Troyak and his Marines, just when he was ready to smash the Allied fleet. Back home in 2021, it had been the Demon Volcano, just when he was ready to finish off Captain Tanner and his vaunted carrier battlegroup. 1908 would have been a cake walk with Admiral Togo’s antiquated fleet, but then along came Kazan, and Fedorov had everything to do with much of his frustration. Now, just as he was poised to break the Japanese Northern Fleet, here comes this challenger from his own day, unaccountably here, but as real as the missiles it was firing.
And when Karpov met with resistance, there was one sure response that he had demonstrated time and time again. He had tried to tell Fedorov he was a chastened and wiser man now, but some problems become nails that stubbornly refuse to be pulled from the beam. And when that happened, Karpov too often did the one thing that was both expedient and certain to resolve the situation in his favor.
He reached for a hammer.
“Damn annoying,” said Karpov, looking at the updated position of the air contacts. The predictive plot line was indicating they would be in position to attack the ship in just 12 minutes. “Samsonov—two missiles, Klinok system. Give them a taste of what they’ll get if they persist, and also let our uninvited guests to the south see that we mean what we say. Take down the lead incoming planes.” He looked at Fedorov. “You know, I have half a mind to plop a special warhead right here,” he pointed to the Plexiglass screen. “It would take out their surface action group, knock down all those planes and the EMP and shock wave would probably fry the electronics on that destroyer.”
Fedorov’s pulse quickened. There it was, Karpov’s old reflex to escalate the situation when he was under stress. “Sir, a nuclear weapon? I hardly think that is warranted here.”
“You heard that bastard. They’re going to sit there and force me to run missile after missile at them. Our SSMs are valuable. I already regret the thirteen we’ve thrown away here. And who knows how many more it will take to get through their SAM defense? A special warhead would be so much quicker. In fact, on a MOS-III it would get so close that it would probably take them out if we detonate before they try that laser again. It would end this here and now, leaving my SSM inventory strong enough to continue to apply pressure on the Japanese here in the north. Our first order of business will be to find the carriers these bothersome planes are coming from. That will teach them.”
Fedorov had to think quickly here, because knowing Karpov, he was just one order away from doing what he was suggesting. That would put the two of them head to head in a most uncomfortable way, as protocol held that the Starpom must repeat the Captain’s order, thereby giving his consent, in the deployment of any special warhead. Whether that mattered now with Karpov was debatable, but he needed to intervene here, and quickly.