Steel Reign (Kirov Series Book 23)

by John Schettler

  “A destroyer? Through that gauntlet of shore batteries in the channel?”

  “Actually they’ve proposed going right over the sand bars to avoid that, and gain a little element of surprise. But they’ve had to lighten the draft of the ship considerably. Everything but one battery’s been thrown off.”

  “Good God,” said Pound, realizing what this plan must be contemplating. “You mean to say they are going to try and ram the steel gate to the main dry dock?”

  “No sir… well… not entirely. Yes, they’ll ram it alright, but the destroyer has been packed chock full of amatol explosives taken from 24 depth charges, about four and a quarter tons I’m told, all rigged up with an elaborate delayed fuse. They’ve placed these explosives about 40 feet from the bow, so the collision is only meant to get the ship near the target. Those heavy steel gates would easily withstand that collision anyway. However, when that fuse runs out, the real thunder rolls, and that should do the job. Other Commando teams will accompany the Campbeltown on either side, and conduct raids against the Pump House and Winding Rooms for those gates.”

  “I see… And assuming any of this is successful, how do the men get out?”

  “That’s just it sir. They may not get out at all. This is very likely a one way ticket.”

  “Preposterous!”

  “Churchill likes it, and its either this or we pull at least two battleships off assigned duty and rush them to a position close enough to intercept the Hindenburg on its run north from Gibraltar. To do that we must issue the orders tonight. If the Germans persist, then we get another battle. I’m perfectly willing to take that on, if the Navy wants to assume the risk.”

  Pound shook his head. “Six months ago I would have waved you forward into battle without a moment’s hesitation. Now, after losing six battleships and a battlecruiser, I’m not so eager. It would seem to me that we might better let this German ship sneak into Saint Nazaire, and then see about using the remainder of those RAF bombers. Even a few hits might keep her bottled up for some time, and if not, then we’ll muster a watch from the Azores again.”

  “Which merely punts the ball concerning that engagement at sea, because one day or another, that ship will make a run for the Atlantic. They can choose any day they want in the year ahead, but we’ll have to cover them all, and with at least two battleships. Now… We’ll have Howe available this month. She’s ready to start sea trials now. But posting her to that watch with a green crew would be risky. I’d rather see King George V and Duke Of York on the job, and even those two may not be enough. Frankly, I think it will need Invincible again, which is yet another argument for more 16-inch guns on our battleships.”

  “We could recall Nelson from Alexandria.”

  “Too slow,” Tovey dismissed that at once. “So, Admiral, suppose we let these Commandos have a go. Yes, we may lose one old destroyer and some good men, but shutting down that dry dock is a heady compensation, and I think I can facilitate this little mission to ensure better chances of success.”

  That was something Tovey had in his pocket now, a little ‘facilitation’ teed up from a ship Pound knew nothing about. The Argos Fire had been operating secretly in the Atlantic for some time, but was never officially listed or mentioned in any report. Yes, men saw the ship, and rumors flied about it, all heavily frowned upon and quickly squelched by Tovey and any other senior officer that knew the real truth about that ship. Admiral Fraser was one such man, one of Tovey’s early recruits to the Watch. The two men conferred on the matter before they went to Pound to obtain final permission to set Operation Chariot in motion.

  “Admiral,” Tovey had said, “I think we have a little Ace in the hole here in Argos Fire.” He had briefed Fraser concerning that ship, and the true nature of the Russian ship Kirov as well. Like Cunningham at Alexandria, Fraser was now ‘in the know’ and a strong addition to the Watch.

  “Argos has been serving us well as a convoy escort. It’s that advances radar and sonar that make the ship so valuable. They can locate German wolfpacks, and the convoy can give them a wide berth before they come into contact. We haven’t lost a single ship in any convoy where Argos Fire was prowling about, mostly well out in the vanguard, where even the Convoy Masters don’t know they have such a powerful guardian angel watching out for them.”

  “What do you propose?”

  “They’ve a pair of helicopters that are rather amazing—very fast, well armed, and capable of lifting in a couple heavy squads of Commandos. In fact, the ship carries a contingent of 50 such men. They fought for us on the sly in Syria during Operation Scimitar. Handy chaps in those helicopters. I believe they can help this Operation Chariot along, which will mean that we may not have to take in so many Motor Launch boats to get Commandos in after the Pump House and Winding Rooms. They can also carry demolition charges, and drop them right on the roof of that Pump House, or anywhere else the Commandos need them.”

  “What about the German flak batteries?”

  “These little birds have quite a sting,” said Tovey. “I’m told they can lay down some fairly effective suppressive fire, and in fact, that will be a good part of their primary role—to take out German gun positions. Then, when all is said and done, they can lift the men out. It will mean the raid can go with far fewer men—fewer to lose or leave behind.”

  “And the Campbeltown?”

  “Still invited. Yes, we’ll need the whole of that four plus tons of amatol to blow those steel gates. Not even Argos Fire has anything in its larders that can bother them.”

  “When would this happen?”

  “If Fleming’s boys have it right, Hindenburg is planning to steal into the harbor on the night of the 16th of May. Moon conditions are right, new on the 15th, though the sun is setting very late, at 21:37. I’d say the night would be thick an hour later, no moon, and pitch black. That’s when they want to bring her in, and we’ll have similar conditions two days prior, so we go the 14th, on a night when high tides will nearly hit 6 meters. That’s to help Campbeltown along. It had to be nearly gutted to lighten her draft for passage over the sandbars. As for those helicopters, they’ll be ready on a moment’s notice, and I might add this ship has a few other tricks up its sleeve. It can take down German air cover, see everything on its radars, and deal with those nasty German shore batteries.”

  “At night? How would they spot them?”

  “No worries there, Admiral Fraser. They have powerful night optics.”

  “How very interesting,” said Fraser. “Might I have a look at this ship one day?”

  “Why Admiral, I thought you’d never ask. It will be off the Clyde tonight, and the two of us have a dinner appointment. In fact, they’ll send out one of those helicopters to give us both a lift over. I would like to introduce you to a most interesting Captain and crew, and the CEO of the ship is really quite charming herself.”

  “Herself? And did I just hear you say CEO?”

  Tovey smiled.

  Chapter 30

  “Virtually all of France’s modern capital ships were built in the Brittany ports,” said Tovey, “Brest in the north and Saint Nazaire in the south. Between them is Lorient, a major site for German U-boat pens. They have them at Saint Nazaire as well, but they won’t be the objective of this mission. We want to shut down the big Normandie Dry Dock—blast away those steel gates and render it useless, and before the Germans move the Hindenburg there.”

  “I’d think you might want it there,” said Mack Morgan, the black bearded intelligence master aboard Argos Fire. “Isn’t that a good spot for the RAF to find that ship?”

  “You might think as much,” said Tovey, But Bombers come at a premium these days. We asked for them, but only 28 remain allocated to the Channel Ports and Brittany. To hit Saint Nazaire, they either have to fly over all those nasty German fighter fields on the Brittany Peninsula, or go well out to sea to get past them. So Jerry gets plenty of warning, and a good portion of their Ack Ack guns are dedicated to stopping a raid comi
ng in from the sea.”

  They were all meeting in the private stateroom aboard Argos Fire, Admirals Tovey and Fraser, with Captain MacRae, Mack Morgan, and of course the cordial host, Elena Fairchild.

  “I know this raid,” said MacRae. “It was the stuff of legend as these operations go, and the plan works, I can tell you that much. Unfortunately, it costs you more than half the raiding force, to say nothing of that old destroyer.”

  “Yes,” said Tovey, “Campbeltown. Well, it’s to be considered expendable. What we are here today for is to see about that other liability, the loss of so many good men. I was thinking you might lend a hand.”

  “Anything to get us off those long boring convoy runs,” said Morgan. “All I ever find time to do on them is grow this beard.”

  “Well you’ve done us a great service there—not a single merchantman lost under your watch, and you’re to be commended. Once we get more escort carriers, your ship will become the primary command center for the Battle of the Atlantic, that is if you don’t mind taking on that job. With those radars and sonars of yours, you can vector in the escort carriers and they’ll do the job. For now, we’ve got something a little more exciting in mind.”

  “How can we help?” asked Elena. “I’m afraid we’ve not much in the way of missile power to strike a hard target. How many are left, Captain?”

  “Just the ten Harpoons. We threw every last Gealbaum we had at Hindenburg and Bismarck in that scrap off Fuerteventura. I like to think we hurt them, but I’m not sure we really did. It’s more likely those big battleship guns that did the real damage.”

  “In this case,” said Tovey, “it was a torpedo fired by a lucky submarine, the Seawolf, and that ship still has residual torpedo damage that I put on it during our first real engagement. That’s why the Germans want to move Hindenburg to Saint Nazaire. They can repair that torpedo damage very quickly there, and trying to do the same job with divers would take a good deal longer. We want to take that option away from them.”

  “Just to keep Hindenburg laid up a few more weeks, or perhaps a month at best?”

  “Yes,” said Tovey. I know it seems callous, but there it is. Gentlemen, Miss Fairchild, I’ve got two battleships operating from Funchal, and two more watching the Iceland-Faeroes passage. We’ve one more coming off sea trials soon, and another right behind it, the Anson and Howe. I need time to get them into the game.”

  Mack Morgan had a pad device, and he had tapped up the history on this raid. “Admiral, it says here that you sent 622 men into that raid. Only 228 made it back to England. That’s a high price for that time.”

  “Well that’s where you come in. You see, a good many of those men were to come in on Motor Launch boats to engage and eliminate flak gun positions around the southern quays, with a few auxiliary targets assigned to them. If you could find a way to take those targets out, these men would not have to be sent.”

  “Why send good men when a missile could do the job,” said MacRae. “Aye, we could certainly help out.”

  “We also wondered about those helicopters that gave us a ride over this evening. They could be very handy in a pinch when it comes time to get the men out.”

  “Aye, that’s a fact,” said MacRae. “Just how many targets are we looking at here, considering I’ve got only ten harpoons for this whale.”

  “We’ve identified five shore battery sites—and a dozen other AA batteries and machinegun bunkers. We may not have to get them all, but some will definitely have to be engaged and destroyed if at all possible. I’m afraid naval bombardment by our own ships would be both risky and inaccurate.”

  “But not naval bombardment by my ship,” said MacRae with a smile. “I assume the risk is from enemy aircraft, well we can stop those easily enough. Now I’ve been laughed off more than once by the blokes on the docks in the Azores when we replenish. They call us the ‘Toothless Wonder,’ and aye, that deck gun we have up front doesn’t look like awful much. But I can put good penetrating rounds on just about any target you name, and from well over the horizon. Our helicopters can spot for us. We wouldn’t even have to use the Harpoons.”

  “Speaking of the X-3s,” Mack Morgan put in, “one of those supply ships in that replenishment convoy we happened upon was meant for underway replenishment at sea, and also to support British ground and air units ashore. It’s helped Brigadier Kinlan’s Brigade in the fight stay in North Africa, though I’m afraid those stores are wearing thin. But they did have a couple dozen Hellfires.” He looked at MacRae now. “I took the liberty of requisitioning them. Our X-3s can make good use of them. We have six each of the AGM-114s, M and N series, and a dozen Romeos.”

  Tovey had no idea what those were, but the name Hellfire certainly sounded good to his ear. “I presume they are every bit as deadly as your other rockets,” he said.

  “These are short range missiles, up to 8,000 meters range, but they were developed to take out armored targets, bunkers, hard positions. The bunker busters can put a hundred pounds of blast fragmentation incendiary punch on any target we hit, and believe me, we won’t miss. There’s also a thermobaric round for tough bunkers that will literally suck the oxygen right out of the air—a nasty little Hellfire, that one. The Romeos have multi-function warheads, depending on the job.”

  “Aye,” said MacRae. “Between the Hellfires and our deck gun, we can certainly raise a little hell. So all the men you’ve assigned to engage those targets can stay home.”

  “Excellent,” said Tovey. “Just what we were hoping. Can we count on your support?”

  “You’ve got it,” said Elena.

  “Thank you, Miss Fairchild, we are much in your debt. And considering that, I think I can make a little repayment, if you’d be so kind as to have a moment with me later. I’ve some news to convey.”

  * * *

  “You may not know all the details,” said Tovey later when he had that moment alone with Miss Fairchild. “But I owe my life and breath here now to Admiral Volsky. Jerry got lucky, and put a nice fat round smack on the conning tower, only we got lucky too, at least for a while. You see, that round penetrated, but didn’t explode immediately. This happens more often than you might think. Well, it put me down for the count. Had I been farther forward on the bridge, I wouldn’t be here now. Admiral Volsky dragged me to safety, into the ready room off that bridge, and closed the hatch there, putting another good wall of steel between me and what happened next. Then he took the wheel, and somehow managed to steer Invincible to safe water.”

  “I see,” said Elena. “Yes, he certainly wasn’t the boogie man I first thought him to be.”

  “Not at all. A good many men on my ship owe him their lives. Unfortunately, that round did go off, and there was no way he could have survived the resulting explosion. What remained, largely his sea jacket and blazer, were given to me… and something else.”

  Now Tovey reached into his coat pocket, producing the key he had found in the hidden pocket within Volsky’s coat. Elena’s eyes widened.

  “It was given to the Admiral by Mister Fedorov, or so I was told by Volsky himself. In fact, he delivered it to me. When I fell after that hit, the Admiral must have taken it again for safekeeping, unsure of what my fate might be.”

  “It was sent by Fedorov? From the ship that arrived in July?”

  “Presumably.”

  “Well I don’t understand. How could that man have come by it? This doesn’t make sense.”

  Yes, thought Tovey, that was quite the question. If Fedorov knew of the importance of this key, then he had to be the same young, enterprising man he had already met, the man who sailed with them in the Med, the man who met Churchill after rescuing O’Connor in the desert. Yet that man vanished when Kirov disappeared, did he not? How was it that he now appears on this new ship arriving July 28th? Volsky was clearly different, unknowing, a man made new…. But not Fedorov. How was this possible? He shared all this with Miss Fairchild.

  “This business is all twisted about like a
good pretzel,” said Elena. “Could there be two Fedorovs? We already know we have one Doppelganger in the two Karpovs.”

  “Madame, I am the last man who could come up with an answer to that. Drill me on gun laying for a good 16-inch battery in sea state 4 and I’ll do a good deal better.”

  “I understand.”

  “Well… here it is. I’ve had a good look at it. This one doesn’t seem to have any of those numbers engraved on the shaft.”

  That got Elena’s attention. “You’re certain?”

  “Have a look yourself.” He handed her the key, and she leaned under the nearby lamp to squint at it.

  “Nothing I can see. Well… How very interesting. Mine has a serial number, and it is associated with specific geographic coordinates. Professor Dorland claimed he had a good look at the key we lost on Rodney, and it had coordinates for Saint Michael’s Cave, Gibraltar. So we know there are time rifts at those locations… But this one…”

  “Seems to lead nowhere,” said Tovey.

  “May I keep this?”

  “Be my guest. I have no idea what I would do with it, only that Mister Fedorov was very keen to have it delivered here. Now, after a good long delay and a great deal of mischief and misery, that has been done. Have you any idea what this is all about?”

  “The rifts,” said Elena, “physical deformities in the spacetime continuum. You heard Dorland trying to explain it. Well, he was correct. Something did happen, many years ago, and it had a very severe impact on time. Think of it like a ball batted against a pane of glass, or a mirror. The damage causes a web of cracks, but the mirror itself doesn’t shatter. We believe these keys are all associated with the end points of one of those cracks, and now I know how many we have to worry about.”

  “How many? You mean there are more of these keys beyond those we discussed?”

  “Indeed. We now possess two, but there are at least seven. Another went down with the Rodney, and this Professor Dorland is keen to find it again. He has some scheme, but we’ve heard nothing from the man since that last meeting in the Azores when he scared me half to death.”