One day I will need to consider the mechanization of my own forces. Kirov has been true to his word in allowing me to wet my beak as his new T-34s come off the assembly lines. I’ve been able to put together a few tank brigades for my forces around Irkutsk, but they are nothing approaching the tank army strength I will need if I have to really get serious with the Japanese and invade northern Manchuria. Beyond that, I wonder if the Soviets are also working on new designs. I’ve given Sergei Kirov a lot of friendly advice, but suppose I deliver the blueprints for the Josef Stalin Tank? It will have to be called something else of course. Yes, the JS-1 will be rightfully relabeled the VK-1, and they’ll call it “Vlad” for short.
That prompted another smile, though he knew the tank would likely be named the SK-1 if it was ever designed and produced. Sergei Kirov will want his name on a few more things than cities and towns. But if the Germans are building new tanks, we must do the same. Perhaps I can trade those blueprints for a commitment to bolster my air force. My Zeppelin fleet is very useful, but I need fighters and better bombers as well. I can’t build them here, but the Soviets can, and the Americans. And I have things to trade both parties for the toys I need. For now, however, I must finish up arrangements for Operation Midway. The Japanese are about to get the surprise of their lives!
At that moment, Tyrenkov came in. He had come over from Tunguska to make his monthly report to the Siberian Karpov, relating details of the operations now being coordinated by his younger self.
“Has Baikal shaken the dust off and worked into the fleet yet?” Karpov wanted to know about the latest T-Class airship that had just been commissioned.
“Yes sir, and the Admiral was very pleased with it. He took it out for a shakedown cruise, and it performed as expected. On that note, he has asked if an additional Oko radar panel and radio sets could be sent over, and any light AA missiles that may still be available would be most useful.”
“Yes,” said Karpov. “Every T-Class ship will get Oko Panels.” He had been taking the light SAMs that were in inventory for his KA-40s and sending them to equip Tunguska with a formidable air defensive shield for his Zeppelins. The airships were quite durable with their amazing self sealing gas bags and the inert helium lifting gas making them less vulnerable to incendiary rounds. They could hold their own against most fighter attacks, and dish out a great deal of firepower on defense. With the missiles, and the Oko panel radar sets to see the enemy coming, he could rest assured that his Zeppelin fleet would remain a viable force. Its only real vulnerability in the operations he had been conducting was to ground based heavy flak guns. A 90mm AA gun could wreak havoc on one of those easy targets.
His brother self had been busy coordinating the airlift of troops and supplies to the northern Sakhalin bridgehead. He had a Marine battalion on defense there, and was bringing in additional air mobile troops with supporting heavy weapons by air, mostly flying during heavy overcast days to minimize the threat of enemy air interception.
“The Japanese are bringing in reinforcements from Hokkaido,” said Tyrenkov.
“As we expected.”
“It isn’t much, just one more additional regiment.”
“That should not prove difficult to overcome, but I’ll want a full division in Northern Sakhalin before we make our push. And don’t forget that we have to seize Lazarev on the mainland, and the mouth of the Amur River. That waterway is our route inland in the north. In the south, I’m still pinning my hopes on the planning for the Chikhacheva Bay operation. Once we push as far south as Aleksandrovsk, the time will be ripe for that. It will be quite easy to move west into Primorskiy Province from there, and then we can follow the Amur River for the real offensive push to Khabarovsk. I want to try and get there by July, and clear all of Sakhalin Island as well. Then we plan the Vladivostok operation. For now, I must turn my attention to breaking the back of the Japanese Navy, which should be accomplished in due course.”
Karpov was very pleased with himself, a smug confidence being the outward cloak his darkened soul wore each day. His muse seemed very well reasoned, very logical and precise. But he was very wrong, at least about the battle of Midway. And he would soon find out that the artful stratagem of surprise could be used against him as well.
Chapter 11
Orlov looked at Fedorov, his eyes wide with shock and surprise. The flood of memories now burst through that broken window and threatened to drown him. It all came back, like one dream after another in an endless cascade of recollection. It was as if some heavy concealing fog had suddenly lifted over that stormy sea, and he could now see and know everything he had lived through in the long saga he had endured with the ship.
Just like Fedorov.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” he breathed. “The helicopter. That was how I found myself in the sky, and I jumped, to save my ass because the goddamn ship was firing at me! Karpov! That bastard tried to kill me. Yes, I put my fist in his belly for the bullshit he pulled when he tried to take the ship. He worked it so the whole damn thing would rest on my decision. I can still see that shit eating grin on his face.”
“My god,” said Fedorov. “Then you remember that? You remember it all now Chief?”
“Like that French Cologne,” said Orlov. “Yes…” He looked around him, feeling like an entirely new man. Yet there was the same old familiar ship, and he also possessed the recent memory of the experience they had lived through these last months. “This is crazy,” he said, shaking his head. “This is just goddamned crazy. I must be losing my mind.”
“No Chief,” said Fedorov quickly. “Hold on a second. The same thing happened to me. That’s why I was so shocked when I first saw you on the bridge. That’s why I flat out keeled over when I saw Karpov. I knew there was no way he could be on this ship. Chief! Stay with me. You remember now, don’t you. You remember everything.”
Orlov was so stunned that he reached for the nearest chair and sat down, a confused look on his face, a mix of anger, frustration and profound surprise and awareness. It was too much for him at the beginning, and he closed his eyes, breathing hard.
“Easy does it, Chief. It happened to me as well, but as far as I know, you and I are the only two men on this ship that remember anything of the past. Zolkin showed a few signs of waking up, but he hasn’t really broken through the fog yet. Take it easy. Give yourself a few moments. I’ll help you get through this.”
“Then they weren’t dreams,” said Orlov. “We fought—busted up the British, and then went to the Med. That’s where I got pissed off and jumped ship. Yes, I lied about that, Fedorov. I told you it was all an accident, but I just gave you a shovel full of good bullshit. I jumped ship—had every intention of getting to Spain, and I eventually did, no thanks to that bastard Karpov. He tried to shoot me right out of the sky. I swear, I’ll kill that fucker if it’s the last thing I do!”
“Hold on, Chief—wait a second.” Fedorov could see Orlov was still very agitated, and he knew this was a critical moment. He had to calm him down, reign him in, for he could become a runaway wild steed here, and do anything. “It wasn’t Karpov,” he said at last. “Since we’re telling the truth here now, I gave the order to fire those missiles.”
“What? You?”
“I was Captain. Remember? I was on the bridge and Karpov was second fiddle at that time. He was still trying to atone for his failed mutiny—and yes, we knew he was the one that put you up to it Chief. Volsky and I knew Karpov was behind it all along.”