Paradox Hour

by John Schettler

  Though the British task force had been spotted at sunset well to the east, approaching Algiers the previous day, the British continued in an attempt to deceive the enemy as to their real intentions. They sent signals in a code known to be compromised, and indicating that their planned mission to attack Algiers was well in hand. The messages indicated they would bombard the port and return to Alexandria this very day, striking Tunis on the return trip. When no attack occurred after sunset on the 4th of May, the Germans sent alerts to Gibraltar to be wary.

  As a precaution, the Germans had two sea planes up just after sunset, to look for enemy shipping. They loitered for some time, patrolling east, and saw the oncoming British task force off Oran. Fedorov considered whether or not to shoot the planes down, but he realized the missile fire would announce their presence there in the Alboran Sea in any case. So the Germans knew trouble was coming, and the six Stukas were ready on the small airfield just after midnight as the U-boats moved into their defensive positions.

  Viktor Schultze in U-103 and Heinrich Liebe in U-38 had the duty that day, lurking in the waters off Gibraltar. A hovering diesel boat would be very difficult for the enemy sonars to hear, or so they reasoned, but they had not counted on the advanced capabilities of Kazan, the skill of sonar operator Chernov, or even the presence of an enemy submarine at all. Their own U-boat fleet could have never kept pace with the fast moving surface ships, but for Kazan, this was no problem. They heard the U-boats easily enough, and Gromyko put two 533mm torpedoes in the water at 03:00. Seconds later the thump of two underwater explosions had laid bare the sea lanes from underwater threat.

  The Stukas scrambled, launched, and soon met a similar fate as the Argos Fire easily put six Aster-15 missiles into the air. Not a single plane or pilot survived. Now the only remaining threat was from shore batteries, and Fedorov had planned to use the helicopter assets they had to easily spot the guns with their high powered optics and sensors. It was then a simple matter to use the deck guns, which outranged the enemy batteries and was able to strike them with accurate 152mm fire.

  It all came down to the superior sensory capability of the modern ships. They could find and target the enemy defenses long before they had any chance to fire their weapons. So the Rock of Gibraltar did not prove to be very much of a barrier that night. By 04:00, the three surface ships had swept through the channel and were already in the Western Approaches, heading into the Atlantic.

  * * *

  “Well done, Captain,” said Volsky, congratulating Fedorov on his successful operation to run the straits.

  “That was easier than we thought it would be,” said Fedorov. “I expected mines and much more air defense, and yet this make some sense after all. Gibraltar is really a backwaters base for the Axis. They don’t need it for their operations in the Med, and the Germans haven’t been able to move very many assets there beyond these U-Boats we encountered.”

  “Having Kazan with us makes up for the loss of the bow sonar dome,” said Volsky.

  “Yes sir, but even so, I think Tasarov would have been able to find those subs with our towed array and the KA-40.”

  “So what is our situation now?”

  “Admiral Tovey has indicated that Force H has moved south, away from the threat of surface interception. Their carrier Glorious took a single bomb hit, but is still operational, and it seems they managed to get a hit on one German ship.”

  “The Hindenburg?”

  “No sir, on the fast escort battlecruiser Kaiser Wilhelm. This is a new ship, one designed but never built in our history. I think the British got very lucky. That hit saw Lütjens linger here at slow speed for some time. Otherwise the lead they have would be much greater. At present, the last British sighting had them here, sir.”

  He tapped the clear Plexiglas vertical panel, where a digital map was displayed in phosphorescent green. “That’s about 450 nautical miles to our northwest—twenty hours ahead two thirds, and fifteen hours ahead full at 30 knots. This blue dot here represents a pair of fast British battlecruisers. They are now about 250 nautical miles northwest of the Germans, and in a very good position to intercept, even if the Germans head due west now. They would not be wise to do so, however.”

  “Oh? The odds are not in their favor?”

  “No sir, they are fast at 32 knots, but carry only six 15-inch guns each. The Germans will have eighteen big guns between their two battleships, and they are much better armored. The British will most likely use those two ships to shadow the Germans, so we should have a much better fix on their position after they make first contact.”

  “So now we rest a little easier in these waters, Fedorov. The Royal Navy is on our side this time, and for that, I am thankful.”

  “True sir. They are a very professional force, and have good ships in the game now. There will probably be another aircraft carrier and cruiser force out there coming from Home Fleet. Between the two carriers they will have a good chance to saturate the airspace and neutralize the advantage the Germans have enjoyed with their light carrier. With Kaiser Wilhelm hit, and now returning to Brest, it then comes down to the battleships.”

  “Could they win this duel, even without our help?” asked Volsky.

  “They would have a good shot at that, sir. Their plan would have to be to get at least two more good battleships in front of Lütjens. Then, between those ships and HMS Invincible, they would have enough to force an engagement, but it would be quite a battle. Their Bismarck took on two British battleships and prevailed this very month in our history. It sunk the Hood, and probably would have made it safely to a French port if not for a very lucky hit by a British Swordfish that damaged the rudder and prevented the ship from maneuvering. That isn’t likely to happen again, and don’t forget that the Hindenburg is out there with Bismarck this time, a much more formidable ship.”

  “We can ease their pain, Fedorov. Yes?”

  “At the moment our longest range missiles are the ten remaining P-900s we got from Kazan. They can range out 660 kilometers, but the Germans are another 200 kilometers beyond that at the moment. We will have to get closer, and get a better fix on their exact position.”

  “We could use the KA-40,” said Volsky.

  “Possibly, sir, but it can only carry a single anti-ship missile, or torpedo. That isn’t much punch.”

  “And the helicopters on the Argos Fire?”

  “Again, they are not designed to carry the heavier anti-ship missiles. Miss Fairchild spoke briefly, and she indicated they mostly use shorter range rocket pods. Those helos were excellent in providing us fire support in Syria, but they won’t do much harm to a ship like the Hindenburg.”

  “Then we will have to close that range.”

  “Agreed, sir. That said, our speed advantage is very slim. We would have to run all out at our full battle speed of 32 knots to close at all. Hindenburg and Bismarck can both make 30 knots. To run that fast for an extended period could stress that damaged hull.”

  “Yes,” said Volsky. “The ship still bears the scars of all our past battles. They did more work on that hull patch while we were at Alexandria, but I understand your concern. What do you think the Germans will do now, Fedorov—particularly given this odd message ordering them to find and engage the Rodney?”

  “Very odd, sir. I still cannot see how they decided to make that their top priority. It is very alarming.”

  “Can they know about this business with the keys?”

  “I doubt that. But Admiral Tovey sent several messages concerning his plan to effect a rendezvous at sea with the Rodney. The Germans may have intercepted those, and that alone could be reason for them to target that ship. Then again, we do not really know the extent of their intelligence. Lütjens stayed with Kaiser Wilhelm for a time to see that ship safely off to Brest. I think they will now turn and get into a position to intercept Rodney.”

  “Where might that occur?”

  “I suppose that depends on Rodney. That ship’s course will determ
ine the location.”

  “So the Germans may not continue running west,” said Volsky. “They’ve already lost time tending to their wounded ship, and now these orders complicate their operation considerably. Perhaps we can get into good missile range sooner than we expected. Until then, it will be up to the Royal Navy. Where do they have ships capable of challenging the Germans?”

  “I was briefed by Tovey after that conference,” said Fedorov. “Admiral Holland has more than Lütjens to worry about now. There is another strong German force in the Norwegian Sea, and so the four British battleships available have been sent to guard the breakout channels on either side of Iceland.”

  “If they attempt the passage west of Iceland in the Denmark Strait, we should know soon enough,” said Volsky. “Remember, we have that Oko Panel team there. They must be getting a bit lonely by now.”

  “I had almost forgotten about them sir. Yes, that radar set gives us good coverage. But if the Germans move east of Iceland we could be looking at a different battle.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  “It would place them much closer to the Hindenburg group, and if the two German battlegroups join, then we have real trouble.”

  “I can see that we shall have to coordinate closely with Holland and Tovey,” said Volsky. “Let us put our heads together and come up with a plan.”

  “Sir,” said Fedorov. “How fast is Kazan?”

  “It can match our speed underwater, but even so, it would have difficulty catching up to the Hindenburg now. As for missiles, Gromyko tells me he has only a few P-800s left. We’ve pilfered all his P-900s, and remember he fired a strong salvo in the Med, and another to interdict the Turkish Straits. What missiles he has left can only range out 300 kilometers, so he must get even closer than we do, if a missile attack is contemplated. No Mister Fedorov, it’s a foot race now, a great naval chase for the new history books we are writing here. Only I wonder how they will account for our presence, two ships the world knew nothing whatsoever about. That will take some explaining, yes?”

  It was then that the first odd incident occurred, though it would not be the last. A man came up the ladder to enter the main bridge through the hatch, his face ashen, in spite of the exertion of the climb, and his eyes held fear when Fedorov and Volsky turned to see what he needed.

  “Sir…” the man was clearly frazzled about something.

  “Yes, what is it Mister Kornalev? A problem in the mess hall? Are the Mishman fighting over mashed potatoes again, or are we running out of beef?” Kornalev was a cook’s assistant from the galley.

  “No sir… It’s Lenkov, sir. In the galley…”

  “What is wrong with Lenkov? If he is sick, have him go to see Doctor Zolkin. If he is angry again, then that is a matter for the Galley Chief to settle. It should not be brought here, to the command bridge.”

  “But sir… I don’t know how to describe this. He’s dead, Admiral. Lenkov is dead, stuck in the galley!”

  Volsky gave Fedorov a quick glance. “He is dead?”

  “Please sir. You must come and see! No one will go near him, so I ran here as fast as I could.”

  “Very well. Calm down now. I will leave the bridge to Mister Fedorov here and have a look. Have you informed Doctor Zolkin?”

  “No sir, I came straight here.”

  The Admiral reached for the overhead intercom and flipped the send switch on. “Doctor Zolkin, Please meet me in the galley at once. This is the Admiral.” He set the microphone back in its housing and gave Kornalev a smile. “Lead on, Mister Kornalev. Let us see what the problem is.”

  “Admiral off the bridge,” said Rodenko as the two men left through the main hatch. He gave Fedorov a look, wondering what he thought of the matter.

  “Any problems of late with Lenkov?” Fedorov asked.

  “No sir, at least nothing that has come to my attention.”

  “Has Orlov been minding his temper?”

  “He’s been in good spirits, sir. No, I don’t think this has anything to do with Orlov.”

  “Anything else? I’ve been away from the ship for some time. How is the crew?”

  “Holding up well, sir. But now that you ask, there have been a few minor incidents.”

  “Of what sort?”

  “As the Admiral said, there was a brawl in the galley last week when the potatoes ran out before the last crew shift came in.”

  “They were fighting over mashed potatoes?”

  “So it seems. But I have noticed that things have been… well wound up a little too tight of late.”

  “Explain.”

  “It’s nothing I can put my finger on sir, but you can feel it. The men have been at sea for many months now, and through a good deal of combat, not to mention the fact that here we are still in the 1940s.”

  “I understand,” said Fedorov.

  “It’s odd, sir. Troyak had a strange report yesterday. He says one of the mishman came in and asked if he could be issued a rifle.”

  “A rifle? What did he want that for?”

  “He wouldn’t say. Troyak refused the request, of course. We can’t have men holed up in their quarters with weapons. But that did little to calm the man down.”

  “What was wrong with him?”

  “Nothing he could really explain to us, Captain. But if I had to describe it, I’d say the man was afraid. Yes, he seemed frightened of something, and it was a natural reflex to want a weapon at hand to protect himself. I had him go see Zolkin.”

  Fedorov nodded. “Very well. Keep me informed, Rodenko.”

  That was a bit disturbing. Here they were, on the most powerful fighting ship in the world, and a junior mishman felt compelled to ask Troyak for a rifle! Perhaps Rodenko is correct, he thought. Maybe it is the long duration at sea, and combat fatigue setting in. I must be more attentive to the crew.

  A few minutes later the intercom sounded and the voice of Admiral Volsky was on the line. Fedorov could hear something in his tone that was upsetting. Even Rodenko noticed it.

  “Mister Fedorov, please come to the galley at once.” It seemed simple enough, but it was going to be something much more than any of them expected. And it was only just beginning.

  Part V

  Lenkov’s Legs

  “I would rather have questions that can’t be answered than answers that can’t be questioned.”

  ― Source Unknown

  Chapter 13

  Fedorov had never seen anything like this before. It was shocking, horrifying, the stuff of science fiction made real before his eyes. Lenkov was stuck in the galley… literally. His body was embedded in the deck, with head, shoulders and half his torso above the level of the floor, and all the rest embedded in the structure of the ship itself. One arm extended looked as though he had tried to reach for the table or chair to prevent himself from being swallowed, and an agonized look was frozen on his face, blotched with eerie blue-pink bruises. The eyes bulged from their sockets, wild with fear. The mouth gaped open, as if the man had died while screaming with terror and panic.

  After the shock of seeing that face subsided, Fedorov’s mind reasoned the deck must have collapsed beneath him, but upon closer inspection, he saw that was not correct. There was nothing wrong with the deck at all. It was as if the man and ship had simply merged, the deck losing its integrity for a moment, just long enough for Lenkov to fall, before solidifying again, like a man falling into water that suddenly froze all around him.

  Admiral Volsky and Doctor Zolkin were there, with two Marines keeping the other crewmen away from the scene. The rumors were already racing through the ship—that Lenkov had fallen right through the deck!

  One image now immediately came to mind for Fedorov, that horrifying moment in the Pacific as they raced away from the burning hulk of the Yamato, and the cruiser Tone suddenly appeared on a direct collision course with Kirov. The ship had been pulsing, as Fedorov described it, fading in and out of that moment in time, like a radio signal that could not be fine tuned, qu
avering on the airwaves of infinity. Volsky was looking to his Captain, his eyes carrying the obvious expectation that Fedorov would know what had happened here, and that was the only thing he could think of.

  “So it begins,” he said darkly.

  “Fedorov?”

  “We must be pulsing again,” said Fedorov. “The ship… Like we did before in the Pacific.”

  “Pulsing?”

  “Our position in time is becoming unstable. Remember, Admiral, we no longer have Rod-25 aboard, and the other two control rods have been stowed in Rad-safe containers. In the Pacific, we began to shift in and out of that timeframe. I first noticed this during that surprise strafing run that wounded you, sir. Some of those rounds went right through the command citadel, and through the deck, but left absolutely no mark. They could not have penetrated the citadel armor in any case, but several men on the bridge saw them. It was just as we were shifting to another time in the Mediterranean. We were there, but yet not there, still not completely manifested in that moment. And then do you recall how that Japanese cruiser seemed to go right through us?”

  “Who could forget that little experience,” said Zolkin. “The men had nightmares about it for weeks after. I nearly ran out of sedatives.”

  “Well, it’s happened again,” said Fedorov. “The ship must have faded, pulsed, I don’t know what to call it, but we wavered in this time briefly, and became insubstantial.”

  “But not Lenkov?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “How could this be, Fedorov?” asked Volsky.

  “I wish I knew, sir. Does his body extend through to the space below this deck?”

  “That is the strangest thing,” said Volsky. “No, there is nothing there. It is as if he was ripped in two, with half his body somewhere else.”

  “Very strange… He must have fallen out of phase with the rest of us… with the ship itself.”