Kollontai knocked back a glass of vodka and stared at Loki. She was remarkably young-looking for a woman of 75 and had been fortunate — and skillful — enough to survive being a vocal critic of Stalin’s policies in the late 1930s. How she had managed that, Loki didn’t quite know. It was rumored that she had been summoned back to Moscow from a diplomatic posting but had somehow escaped the usual fate for those so recalled. When she spoke, her voice was saddened.
“They are not open at all. Even getting this much for Finland now is hard. They have cooked their own goose with a vengeance and the deal on offer now is the best they will ever be offered. If they keep fighting, then the terms will become progressively worse. One day, the Russian Army will be in a position to attack with all its force. Then there will be no terms. Finland and its people will vanish from the history books for all time. If they do not forestall that somehow, then their fate is inevitable.”
“If the Allies win.” Erlander’s voice was gloomy.
“Oh we will win. We have scored two great victories in the last few days. The German Navy has been destroyed and a German land offensive has been stopped in its tracks. It may take a long time but the fascists will be crushed and our armies will overrun their lair. They will take a just and proper revenge for the atrocities the fascists have inflicted on our people.” Kollontai’s voice softened further as the women’s rights activist took over from the politician. “And when they do, that will not be a good time to be a woman.”
There was a profound silence as the truth of her words sank in. Eventually Loki broke it. “And there we have it. That leaves it down to you, Tage. Somehow, you’ve got to convince the Finns that they’ll have to accept these terms. And Aleksa, somehow, you’ve got to convince the Russian Government to trust the Finns when they make another ‘live and left live’ offer. Because the alternative is too terrible to think about.”
“Final run in now Number One.” Captain Charles Povey looked around the bridge with an air of satisfaction. They had land-based air cover for the troop convoy. Catalinas flying out of Murmansk circled overhead, watching for any signs of enemy submarines. The convoy itself had angled south and was on the last leg of its long run. The ships had picked up speed. Nobody wanted to get sunk when the safety of Murmansk, dubious though it was, could be within sight any hour.
Lieutenant Commander Murray checked the charts. “Three hours. Possibly four, Sir. No signs of any enemy action. It looks like Halsey’s knocked the stuffing out of them.”
“Same word from PQ-17.” Admiral Vian’s voice beat the ‘Admiral on the Bridge’ warning by a split second. “It’s as if the Huns have been so thoroughly spanked, they’ve all gone home. No word of subs anywhere. I was expecting a major effort by the submarine fleet to try and salvage something from the disaster they’ve suffered but they’ve gone. PQ-17 reported some scattered attacks from aircraft based in Norway, mostly Ju-188 torpedo bombers, but even they seemed to lack determination. Mostly they just scattered when the fighters got to them.”
“Any word from Halsey Sir?” Povey wanted to know the details of the destruction of the German fleet. He fancied himself as a naval historian and had in mind making his great opus the Second World War history of the German Navy.
“Not a word. We know from German intercepts that his aircraft hit Londonderry this morning. Destroyed schools, convents and orphanages according to the Huns. I’d guess they took out the airfields and partisan hunter barracks myself. But, no word from them. Won’t be until they get back from Churchill. One thing we do know. Three German ships turned up in the Faroe Islands, a cruiser and two destroyers. Cruiser’s on the rocks, finished. The destroyers have surrendered to the British garrison there. As far as we can tell, they’re the only survivors.”
There was silence on Ontario’s bridge. The officer’s minds filled with the reality of what the last minutes of the German ships and their crews must have been like. A dreadful choice between drowning and freezing. Eventually, Povey shook himself and banished the images from his mind. “Sir, any special orders for sailing into Murmansk?”
Vian thought for a second. “No, just make sure the Canadian troops are ready to go ashore as fast as possible. If the Huns really are stunned into immobility, we want to get back before they recover.
“Moe is coming up Commander.” Perdue turned around to look down the line. The locomotive towing Moe was indeed approaching but he could see that something as seriously wrong. There was far too much steam around it and its speed was way down. Another problem to be faced.
“Thank you. Get the rest of the Russian vehicles loaded on to the flat cars. Finish cleaning up the carriage.” There was no need to specify which carriage. It had been hit by short-range gunfire from machine guns and the heavier weapons on the armored cars leaving it a splintered ruin. The forty men in it were mostly dead, their bodies laid out by the side of the track.
“Lieutenant Knyaginichev, your men will stay with us until we reach our lines? We are just Navy men and railway engineers here. We desperately need your expertise as skilled infantry.”
“My orders are to regain our own lines and rejoin my division. So yes, we will ride with you. I think there are still problems to come though.”
“Grazhdanin Knyaz is right Commander. There is indeed a problem yet to come.” Boldin had his maps out. “The railway does a bend where it swings north. It forms a loop, a big one certainly but a loop nevertheless. If the German is clever and gets moving, he can cut across the neck of the loop and be ahead of us again. Here I think. This time he will not take time to try and capture the guns. He will tear up the lines so we have to stop or be destroyed. We must move soon to have any chance of beating him.”
The three officers stared at the map. Eventually Perdue said what they were all thinking. “Even if we do, he will still be ahead of us right.” There was a murmur of agreement. “Very well, so there is no point in hurrying. We must think this over and do it right.” His words were interrupted by them being enveloped in a cloud of steam. Moe ‘s engine had come to a halt behind them.
Perdue turned around and looked at the Mikado. One side looked like a scrapyard. “How bad is it?”
“We’re done, Commander. This Mike is finished. We’ve been losing steam pressure ever since the junction and there’s no stopping it. We’re shot up too badly to go any further.”
Perdue turned to the driver of Curly’s-engine. “Can a Mike tow both guns? If we leave the carriages behind?”
The railwayman started to shake his head but was interrupted by a Navy Lieutenant. “Sir, you better see this before making any decisions.”
Perdue followed him back. When he reached Moe he could see what was coming but the Lieutenant pointed it out anyway. “Sir, see the barrel there? A 75 armor piercing round hit it. Deflected away of course, but it took a big chunk out of the metal, right down to the rifling inside. There’s three or four more just like that all down the barrel. And the breech, Sir. It got hit bad. 75s and 50s, three or four of each. Moe is really torn up, Sir.”