'Stand-To' (Armageddon's Song)
Page 16
Several things were running through Joe’s mind, the first being that they had apparently been detected some time ago, the second was that they had been suckered into looking in one direction. The third was that it was going to take too long to accelerate to their full 22knot speed from 9 knots.
The bow of the submarine was rising and the deck heeling over when the first of two torpedoes launched by the Russian Akula detonated against the USS Commanche’s single screw.
In the galley Dave Bowman was thrown off his feet by the terrific impact and drenched in hot fat. He was screaming in pain when the second warhead struck amidships.
Still 580 feet short of the depth ordered by her captain the USS Commanche’s hull and bulkheads collapsed and the sea rushed in and claimed her.
CHAPTER 3
Nikoli had been dropped off outside 13 Kensington Palace Gardens, W8, the Russian Federations London Embassy.
Constantine had briefed him on the events that had caused him to desert his position at the Embassy and alert the West. Constantine had banked on the fact that the British military would not immediately inform the Russian authorities that they had ‘mislaid’ one of that countries servicemen. So far as Constantine knew there was nothing in official records connecting his second cousin removed, with himself. If there was then he had put his cousin in danger. Once Nikoli was conversant with the facts he had been allowed to make up his own mind, whether to go into hiding himself or return to his unit, the airborne division of the 6th Guards Shock Army.
Constantine had only nodded his head in understanding as Nikoli chose the latter.
Apart from being introduced to him as simply Svetlana, nothing more was offered to explain her presence with Constantine. Nikoli had picked up on the subtle body language hints that his cousin and she were ‘together’, he had nonetheless teased his older cousin by flirting outrageously with this beautiful girl on the long journey south.
The Embassy staff had accepted his story of charming the beautiful Military Police captain into dropping him outside rather than into temporary detention at Wellington Barracks.
Unlike his compatriots who had been with other British units elsewhere in the country, Nikoli was delivered to Heathrow airport in an Embassy hired coach along with all unnecessary Embassy staff and dependants. The British bussed the Russians in their care to the airport in Army four-ton trucks.
As the Aeroflot flight had left the runway Nikoli took a last look at the British Isles through the window beside his seat and silently wished his friends in its Army, good health and a long life.
Fulham, north London: 0550hrs 28th March
The grey light of pre-dawn greeted Colin’s opening eyes. He looked across at his sleeping wife, stroked her dark curly hair tenderly and reached over to cancel the bedside clocks alarm before it had chance to sound.
His head contained a dull ache, a legacy of their pre-deployment tradition of polishing off a bottle of bubbly and making out like teenagers. On the first occasion it had been a bottle of cheap pseudo champagne in a B&B before the invasion of Iraq. Janet’s surname had not been Probert at that time, it had become that within a month of his return, stood before the alter of her families local church, he in a scarlet tunic carrying brand new stripes and she in a catalogue bought dress carrying their first child, Karen. She hadn’t ‘shown’ on that occasion but her mother even now managed to serve up the shame that he had nearly caused her and the rest of her family. Fortunately Colin had always got along well with Janet’s father and brothers, so her Mum’s continued disapproval was easy to bear.
Young James had been conceived the night before Colin had left for Afghanistan. The genuine item had been the catalyst that had caused them to throw caution to the wind that night, not that Jimmy was a mistake of course, far from it, but before further tours Janet had ensured her diaphragm was in place before the cork popped.
Since his posting to Brecon Colin had made it home twice a month for long weekends, it didn’t count as being wholly in the loop on the parenting side and he was aware that Janet was doing more than her fair share. A year before she had landed a good job as a secretary for a law firm at Lincoln’s Inn Fields. The firm had moved chambers to a plush office in Canary Wharf the previous January and Karen had become PA to one of the junior partners at the same time. She was now the highest earner in the household and the principle parent. Even had this possibility of war not raised its head he would not have sought a second term at the School of Infantry, Brecon.
He was about due for a promotion to WO1 slot, RQMS, QM (Tech) or that prime job within an infantry battalion, RSM, when Barry Stone eventually took over the job of GSM, Garrison Sergeant Major of London District. It would mean he was home each night but one step removed from what he loved most, being out in the weeds playing soldier. It was time he accepted that it was no longer fair on the family though.
Karen was entering that awkward stage in life, that of being a teenager and therefore susceptible to peer pressure and raging hormones.
He did not like her taste in boys or music (Janet had not revealed to him his daughters taste in skimpy ‘boy bait’ outfits. He still had that discovery to make all by himself),
Colin was honest enough to know he could easily sound like his own father had and accordingly he tried to curb the urge to lecture. He wasn’t entirely successful in masking his feelings, describing the boy band his daughters current heart throb sang with as a bunch of choreographed karaoke singers incapable of writing any of their own material or playing an instrument, which may have been true, but that had not earned him very much in the way of affection points.
Jimmy was still very much ‘all boy’, coming home with muddy knees and torn attire from climbing trees and playing with his friends in the nearby park. They had a few years breathing space before he entered the terrible teens.
Colin slipped from between the sheets and trod lightly around the bed to collect his towelling robe. Having slipped it on he bent down to check Janet still slept and satisfied, quietly left the bedroom.
At the faint sound of a shower Janet judged it safe to open her eyes. She had feigned sleep for much of the night, as she had done every single night before her husband left for active service in one part of the world or other.
She both welcomed, and hated this moment. The long hours’ laying there with pictures filling her imagination, none pleasant, were now past. She could lose herself in the domestic business of getting him fed, getting the kids up, breakfasted and ready for school.
She was exchanging the images for a countdown. The clock was running now to the moment he would step through the door, back into the military world that he loved so much and she so feared.
He’d always come back without a scratch before, maybe this time it would be different, maybe this time it would be her turn to try and look brave at the graveside, to try not to flinch but when the riflemen fired the salute over her soldiers grave.
She forced the thought away, dressed and went downstairs.
By the time Colin had showered, shaved and dressed the breakfast was on the table. He was seated before Karen appeared, looking rather sulky and put out, a clone of all teens at that time. The sulk deepened when her mother made her eat more than the half slice of toast she insisted was all she needed for the sake of her figure. Colin felt guilty about not being the one to make that move but he did not want his last day at home to be a quarrelsome one.
When Jimmy arrived it was in a rush, mimicking an aircraft engine and holding aloft a slightly battered Harrier jump jet he had made from a plastic construction kit. Colin caught him as he passed, sweeping him up and over before depositing him in his chair with a final ruffling of the permanently untidy mop of hair.
Jimmy shovelled breakfast cereal into his mouth and pulled a face at his sisters look of disdain at his table manners. He was considering flicking milk soggy sugar puffs at her when his father spoke.
“Sit up straight and mind your manners Jim, you’re not in a farmyard.”
“Dad, are you going war fighting against the Germans” A diet of his dads old collection of boys comics had ensured that the bad guys were always the Jerries’ although sometimes it was the Japs in Jimmy’s young mind, not that he really knew where either ones country lay if you showed him a map of the world.
“No it’s not the Germans, they are our friends now. You had German friends too when we were in Fallingbostel, do you remember?” Jimmy had only been three at the time the battalion had last been stationed in Germany and his memories were hazy.
“Ian Wiggins says his Dad can’t get out the army now because there’s going to be a war.”
All movement out of the armed forces had been halted three days before. Colin felt slightly sorry for Pete Wiggins, a sergeant in the battalions signals platoon, he had a good job with an IT firm all lined up, no doubt the vacancy would have been filled by someone else before all the sabre rattling was done with.
Colin didn’t want to talk about the possibility of war; he did not need to look at his wife to know she felt the same way. Janet changed the subject with practised ease, enquiring about the quality of both offspring’s homework. It distracted as desired and breakfast was finished in near pleasant silence.
Janet drove, dropping the kids off early with friends whom they would walk the rest of the way to school with and then dropping Colin off in Petty France. They sat for several minutes looking at each other; finally he kissed her, hard, before leaving the car and striding towards the guardroom at the entrance to Wellington Barracks. She returned his wave when he turned briefly, before disappearing from view into the bowels of the barracks.
There was hollowness in her stomach when she let out the clutch and joined the early morning traffic, heading east towards her workplace.
Stow-in-the-Wold, Gloucestershire, England: 1030hrs 28th March
Constantine was lying on their hotel bed watching television when Svetlana returned from the local newsagents. He turned to smile at her before he returned his attention to the trio of middle aged men discussing cars before an audience of adoring fans who apparently found even inane comments hilarious.
Shaking her head at the antics Svetlana had lain on her side of the bed with her back to the TV. As she had already scanned the pages of the Times for anything of interest she turned her attention to the crossword. Its completion took her a full fifteen minutes. With a snort of contempt she disposed of the clues one by one. 7 across had been ‘Emperor Constantine’, it made her smile as the Constantine next to her was anything but regal in bed, rampant yes, regal no.
9 across was ‘Carlisle’, and the coincidence gave her pause.
On completing the crossword she wrote in the margin of the paper and obstructed Constantine’s view of a celebrity guest spinning off a track in a reasonably priced car by holding the paper folded with the words and crossword in view.
“Is it me or is someone trying to tell us something?”
“I can see my rightful name and the name of a town that matches your previous name, but I do not understand the significance of the remainder?” he answered.
Svetlana explained about the three remaining words.
After a quick call to directory enquiries they collecting the car they had bought on Svetlana’s gold card in Southampton and headed for the M50 motorway.
The thing about ‘pay as you go’ cellular phones in the UK is that if you choose not to register them, not to claim the ten minutes free ‘talk-time’, no one can trace the users details. You can be though if someone has the facilities to triangulate from where a call is being made. Making a call at 70mph makes that triangulation more difficult though.
Once at the motorway Constantine headed north, passing two junctions before Svetlana made the call.
“Metropolitan Police, New Scotland Yard, can I help you?”
“Yes please, my name is Carlisle and I would like to speak to the Commissioner,” she told the police operator.
Looking at the notice on her console the operator followed its instructions.
“May I ask what it is in connection with?”
“Emperor Constantine, was his alliance with Licinius in AD312 really necessary or could he have defeated Maxentius on his own?”
“What…pardon?” the operator stammered.
Constantine nudged Svetlana in the ribs to stop her toying with the baffled operator.
“Just tell the Commissioner that Constantine is returning his call, please.”
“Hold the line please.” She was told.
After a few moments a male voice came online.
“Do I call you Christina?”
“Christina will be fine although I am impressed that you know that, and of your method of contacting us.”
Ignoring the pleasantries the commissioner cut to the chase.
White House Situation Room: Same time
“Mr President, the debugging of our system is making progress inasmuch as we know what areas are free of interference. I am not able to put a time reference on how long it will be until it is purged,” the NSA reported.
“How about Alaska, what went wrong at the Bering Straits?”
“Sir, it seems that there is increased traffic through the Straits, the reduction in the Polar ice caps is not limited to the Antarctic so best guess is that Kuznetsov came through during bad weather with a bunch of large merchies sir. We are still investigating however to ensure there are no bad apples.”
The president just nodded.
“Similar thing happened to the Brits with the Scharnhorst in the last war, right in their own backyard” offered General Shaw; the telephone in front of him rang.
“Excuse me, Mr President.” Henry masked the mouthpiece of the telephone to reduce anything the caller could hear in the background during their conversation. It was just simple operational security
“Ben.” Said the president. “You’re up, so how are we doing with running down the stray devices?”
“Sir, with the exception of the Muslim extremist groups whose asses we have been chasing for over six months, we have concluded that home grown terror groups are also involved. We have a lead on one particular bunch of white supremacists, and something big is in the wind with lots of email traffic. I have…or I had...an agent close to the leadership of Fascists of America. I pushed too hard Mr President and she took a chance too many.” Ben Dupre was looking at his hands as he spoke.
“What happened, Ben?” asked the president.
“Let’s just say she was found dead this morning and leave it at that please, at least for today sir,” Ben took a breath and continued.
“We and the ATF plan to hit all the groups we know of on the day before we know the devices are to be set off. We figure they will keep them close until the last minute for security reasons. All the targets are on high alert and road checks are still in place of course. If they think there’s no chance of getting through without being searched, Geiger counters waved over their stuff, they may back off and wait until another day. Gives us more time to track the things down”
“Sounds good, let me see the plan soonest please Ben,” after a second the chief executive asked his FBI Director, “I would like the deceased agents details too, please?”
Ben nodded, “Yes sir.”
General Shaw replaced his receiver.
“Mr President?”
The president nodded at the general.
“Something happening Henry?” The relationship between the president and the military had changed over several days; he no longer tolerated them as a necessary nuisance.
“Sir, there has been no contact with the submarine we sent to investigate the Chinese carrier for over 24hrs, that in itself would not be too great a cause for concern, she may not have been in a position to transmit for tactical or technical reasons. However, 7th Fleet an
d the Royal Navy Headquarters on Whale Island, Portsmouth, received a transmission from HMS Hood along with a recording she had uploaded. Hood’s sonar department heard activity from approximately where we would have expected the USS Commanche to be. Between 0121hrs and 0147hrs yesterday morning they recorded a surface vessel; a Krivak class destroyer performing high-speed dashes and reversing course. At 0145hrs there is the sound of two torpedoes being launched from a submerged submarine on a different bearing from that of the surface warship, this is immediately followed by the sound of a second submarine and she had her screw suddenly at high turn rate. Just under two minutes later there are two underwater explosions and the sounds of a submarine breaking up at depth.” After letting those present absorb what he had just said the general added.
“It may be unconnected with the Commanche sir, and unlikely as it is, due to the current rules of engagement, it may have been Commanche launching on another submarine…” his voice trailed off.
“What action is being taken now?”
“Mr President, the composite light carrier group centred on HMS Prince of Wales arrived in Yokosuka three and a half hours ago and began taking on their full war loads. Their support vessels are topping off their stocks and they should be turned around and heading north in the next five hours. Their orders are to back up Hood and be in a strike position if called on. If they can get a look at the area of the sinking we may have more Intel. All Seventh Fleet vessels that have stocked and armed are standing out to sea. That order has been passed worldwide. The Hood broke contact with the Kuznetsov in order to transmit her message sir; she hopes to be back in position by this evening.”
“Thank you General, can you update us on the position of our reinforcement of Germany and the state of the movement of supplies to Europe.”
“Mr President, MAC, Military Airlift Command, is on schedule and although there has been some reluctance on the part of the main carriers to turn over their quota of aircraft for federal use, that is also underway. The first federalised shipping is taking on war supplies. 5th Armoured Division will entrain tomorrow at Fort Hood for Galveston and Texas City. Atlantic Fleet and 6th Fleet units are arriving to take up duties as convoy escorts” He paused before continuing.