“Just like the Americans,” Abramov shrugged. “It’s a new world, Leonid. It’s China’s world too, particularly here in the Pacific. We’re just tired old men watching over a few tired old ships up here. China is calling the shots in the Pacific now, as we both know all too well. They didn’t like it when Japan modified those new helicopter destroyers and then put a squadron of F-35s on them.”
Abramov was referring to the 19000T class destroyer, now reclassified as light escort carriers and the largest surface combatants in the present Japanese Navy at a length of 248 meters and 27,000 tons fully loaded. Japan’s constitution had prohibited the deployment of nuclear weapons, strategic strike bombers and attack aircraft carriers, but the naval planners had argued that the new ships were defensive in nature. Then they modified them to allow for takeoff and landing of the JF-35B Lightning Joint Strike Fighter, a small squadron of only seven planes to augment the helicopters carried by the ships. If that was not enough of a provocation, naming their last two of four units in the class Kaga and Akagi after their old WWII era fleet carriers did little to comfort the Chinese.
It was the same old story again, as nations quibbled over limits on things like weapons systems, ship classes, and naval deployments, and haggled over deserted islands off each other’s coasts, mostly for the oil and gas rights in the seabed beneath them. The world of 2021 was slowly starving for energy. Oil and gas had carried the weight of development into the 21st century, but there had been no wide scale deployment of a reliable energy source that was not nuclear to stand in for the rapidly depleting resources in the petroleum industry. Nations were getting hungry now, their economies needing constant production to remain viable, and competition for any new oil and gas fields was bordering on fierce. The military forces of many key regional powers had now become oil and gas protection services, for the wheels had to always turn, and they were starting to slow down again, in the factories of China and on the freeways of the U.S.
“The Japanese Navy now outclasses our own fleet Pacific Fleet,” said Abramov. “They have these two light carriers, then two more smaller DDH type ships in their Hyuga Class, ten excellent new guided missile destroyers and another thirty DD and DE class warships—not to mention the sixteen submarines. Yes, some of those older destroyers date back to the 1980s like our Udaloys, but they have been well maintained. We’re still scraping the rust off our older ships to see what we can get seaworthy. I managed to get three old KGB Krivak class border guard frigates out to train with Kuznetsov, if you can believe it.”
“Krivaks? We’ve been selling off the best of those refits to the Indian Navy. Now I suppose we will wish we had them for ourselves.”
“So as you can see, Japan will be no pushover.”
“You will get no argument from me on that point,” said Volsky. “I am well aware of the capabilities of the Japanese navy.” He could, of course, never tell Abramov what he really meant with that.
“Yes, well their navy now outnumbers us almost three to one here in the Pacific, and without ships like Kirov and Kuznetsov, we’ve become little more than a coastal defense force, and a bunch of submarine tenders.”
“That’s a good looking new ship off our port side at the berthing,” said Volsky.
“Yes, the Orlan will help a little, and we just received the fast frigate Admiral Golovko as well, but without Kirov, this is still a three week fleet, if we could even last that long.”
“I’m afraid it may take a little longer than that to get Kirov back in full fighting trim,” Volsky sighed. “It was a difficult journey, my friend.” Volsky lowered his voice now. “I’ll tell you about it one day, but for now I have Kapustin sniffing around over there, and a lot of questions to answer.”
“Kapustin is a bureaucrat,” said Abramov, “very thorough too. He’ll work sixteen hour days, and no amount of paperwork will intimidate him. But it’s not Kapustin you should be worried about. He brought along Volkov, and that man is old school Naval Intelligence, sour as a lemon. He’ll be a pain in your neck in no time at all.”
Volsky nodded. Then slid the computer pad back over to Abramov and leaned heavily over the desk, his brow furrowed, eyes reflecting real worry beneath his heavy brows. “Boris… There’s a storm coming, and a very big one I fear. An American submarine snuck up on us when we were finishing up exercises in the Pacific, and we almost put a Shkval up their ass. Things are wound up tighter than a spring, and anything could set them off in this climate. Yes, there’s a storm coming, and if we can’t find some way to prevent it, then we had better be ready for it. Only this time… this time if the missiles start flying I must tell you I don’t hold out much hope for the world.”
The memory of Halifax Harbor was clear in his mind now, and a dark and ominous shadow on his soul.
Chapter 11
Inspector Kapustin sat at the desk, eyes intent on the list now, and a look of perplexed apprehension on his face. Volkov stood by the door, waiting for his reaction, a half smile on his face and the look of a self-righteous snitch all too apparent.
“Are you certain of this list?” said Kapustin. “These are the names of all men who died?”
“I got it straight from the ship’s physician, sir, though that took some doing. The impudent old man insisted I go to Karpov first, and we both know what a prick that man is.”
It takes one to know one, thought Kapustin, but he said nothing, staring solemnly at the list, his discomfiture more and more evident. “But I just consulted the ship’s register, and none of these names are even listed there. Could they have been stricken from the register as these casualties were reported.”
“I considered that, sir, but decided to check. I phoned Moscow on this and got the Naval Personnel Division to sent me over the entire active duty roster for Kirov as of 28 July of this year. None of those names were on the list, sir.”
Kapustin leaned back, his hand straying to his chin to run through the thick stubble of his curly gray beard. “Are you suggesting that these names were fabricated? That no one actually died and that they had to make this all up to bolster this story that all the damage was from the Orel incident?”
“I thought that as well, sir. Until I found these in the sick bay. It seems the good Doctor kept a few paper files in his cabinet. Not everything is digital these days.”
“You searched the Doctor’s files?”
“Well he wasn’t very cooperative, sir. In fact he’s somewhat of an obstructionist, hiding behind that home spun wit of his. But I got to the bottom of things, sir. If those names were fabricated, then have a look at these.” He handed the Director three manila file folders, old crew personnel documents attached from the days of typewriters and fax machines. The documents were typical naval records, service history, promotion reviews for three junior grade Lieutenants.
“All three of these men are on the casualty list.” Kapustin was more confused than ever. “If that list was fabricated, then someone went to a great deal of trouble to produce all this material for these three men. I can think of no reason why.”
“There’s more, sir,” Volkov rocked forward on his toes slightly, the light of the chase in his dark eyes. “I interviewed some of the men below decks. They say they knew those three men—talked about them as though they had just come from the mess hall together. Those men were on the ship, sir. I have every confidence in that.”
“They were on the ship, you say. The men knew of them, and here are thick typewritten files on all three, but the navy has absolutely no record of these men. Is that it?”
“Correct sir, and so I asked about many of the other men on the list. Yes, the men all knew them, they were all here, sir.”
“So it is obvious the list was not fabricated. They must have stricken those names from their register here, and Moscow has botched things up on their end. I cannot possibly conceive that Doctor Zolkin would write up such a list for formal submission to the Naval Inspectorate. A fabricated list? The man would have to be a lunatic to su
bmit such a document in light of the present circumstances.”
“I did say I thought him to be somewhat of an obstructionist, sir. But the testimony of the other crewmen must also be considered. I spoke with the senior mishman in every section where the men on that list were posted. They all spoke glowingly of their service and performance, and expressed their sorrow for their loss.”
“Then how stupid and incompetent can the Naval Personnel Division be?” Kapustin threw the three manila files down on his desk now. “Have them verify their information on all these men. Tell them I want them to go into the paper archives as well. Some clerk might have thumbed his keyboard and wiped an entire data block. That’s the trouble with this world, Volkov. It’s all been reduced to ones and zeros. Well I, for one, am not willing to accept the fact that thirty-six men could have simply waltzed aboard the flagship of the Northern Fleet and merrily taken up posts on the ship with no record of their existence whatsoever!” Kapustin’s anger was plain now.
“I will make another telephone call, sir, and I hope you are correct. Perhaps the files are in the paper archives, but if they are not… Then we have some real cloak and dagger work to do here. And there is another matter. A man was found dead in the officers’ quarters today—a man named Volushin—and it appears to have been a suicide.”
“Suicide?”
“The men I spoke with claim he had family problems, but listen to this…” Volkov told the Director what he had learned, the whole sad tale of a simple matoc come home to find his wife and family, indeed his apartment as well, all missing.
“Not there?” Kapustin was irritated now. “Then they moved before this man arrived here. This is no mystery.”
“I haven’t been able to determine that yet, sir, but the incident was enough for this man to take his life.”
“More than one sailor has come home to find his wife run off with another man, Volkov. Don’t concern yourself with it.”
“Another man went missing just yesterday, sir.” Volkov was working down his shit list.
“A crewman?”
“Yes, sir, a fellow named Markov. He was with the Chief Engineer, Dobrynin. They were over in the nuclear reactor test-bed facility doing some maintenance and he turned up missing when his shift relief came in.”
“This man deserted his post?”
“It appears that way. Frankly, I find the lack of discipline in this crew to be a matter of some concern as well.”
“Aside from the damage, the ship appears to be running smoothly, Volkov. In fact, I would go so far as to say this is an exemplary crew. They complete their work rotations smartly, and there seems to be a real esprit de corps among them.”
“That’s just it, sir. There’s an edge to them that almost borders on insubordination at times. Take this Doctor Zolkin, for example.”
“There you go riding that man’s back again, Volkov. Give it a rest. I know Zolkin, and yes he’s a bit of an eccentric, but a fine physician, with thirty years in the service. Let him be.”
“Very well, but this Karpov is a bit too cheeky for my taste,” Volkov folded his arms, shifting targets.
“So are you, Volkov! I guess when they give a man that last stripe to make him a Captain of the First Rank he wants to let everyone else know it. Yes, Karpov can be arrogant at times, and his reputation is a bit sinister, but he’s a fine command level officer, one of the best in the fleet, or why else would the navy have given him Kirov?”
“As we have seen, sir, the navy makes mistakes.”
Kapustin gave him a wry smile, then leaned back, tapping a pen on his notepad. “Anything more?”
“The Starpom, sir. The ex-navigator.”
“Ah… yes. Anton Fedorov. What about him?”
“He was a Junior Lieutenant, and was promoted several ranks in just the last six weeks! Volsky moved him all the way up to Captain of the Second Rank. That is very unusual, sir.”
“I’ll make a note to discuss the matter with the Admiral when he returns from his business ashore. Is that all?”
“No sir, I have one other issue that we need to discuss. There was one man on that casualty list that did have a record on file in the personnel division. He was Chief of Operations, Captain Gennadi Orlov.”
“Orlov? I have heard of this man. He was on a Sovremenny Class Destroyer years ago and worked his way over to Kirov. A disagreeable man, from what I have heard.”
“Well he stood second to Karpov on this ship, sir. This Anton Fedorov appears to have been promoted when he was killed in that helicopter incident.”
“That explains Fedorov then.”
“Not entirely, sir. Fedorov was just a navigator. He had no combat training at all. Don’t you think it is odd for him to be made Starpom?
“Perhaps, but I said I would discuss this with Volsky. Get back to Orlov. What did you learn?”
“I overheard a couple of the Marines talking about this man—Orlov. They were none too complimentary, and when I stepped into the helo bay to ask them about it, they suddenly changed their tune, became happy little school boys and had nothing but good things to say about him. It was very suspicious, sir.”
Kapustin sighed, scratching his head. “Volkov, Volkov. You think the men in the ranks will ever say what they really think of a senior officer to his face—or to you, for that matter? You might be shocked to hear things that are said about you behind your own back. And don’t be surprised to see a man’s temperament change like the weather. Forget about such nonsense. Now I have a matter that is of some real concern. I spoke with the ship’s Quartermaster—a man named Martinov. This ship was issued three special warheads for this sortie, though none were authorized for live firing exercises—but one is missing, and a second has been mounted on the number ten cruise missile.”
“One is missing?”
“Yes… I suppose the warhead mounted is of no real concern. They may have run some kind of drill for special weapons. But for a nuclear warhead to turn up missing? What do you think about this, Volkov. You want a smoking gun? There it is.”
“Correct, sir. Could they have fired it in the drills on Volsky’s command?”
“Perhaps, but it would be most irregular.”
“An accident, sir? Considering what happened to Orel, I would not be surprised… My God! What if this was the warhead that killed Orel?”
“I considered that as well. These are questions easily answered when we sit down with the senior officers after the general audit. In either case, whether it was fired on Volsky’s order, or whether it was a mistake, someone will have to answer for it.”
That brought a smile to Volkov’s face. “I knew there was something suspicious about the damaged logs, sir. They were trying to cover something up, it was no accident. I think they deliberately purged the records to prevent us from discovering what happened.”
“Then they were quite stupid. As you can see, a simple audit of remaining weapons inventory has led us to this. If they wanted to cover this up, they should have worked a little harder.”
“I don’t think they could create a dummy warhead, sir.” Volkov shook his head. “Perhaps this Karpov is not so clever and conniving as his reputation warrants.”
“Karpov? Why do you grab Karpov’s ear? Volsky is the only one who could have authorized the use of nuclear weapons. You think Karpov would have rotated a special warhead into their firing plan without his approval? Don’t be stupid.”
Volkov cocked his head to one side, thinking. “Then we have bigger fish than Karpov to fry here, sir. You know Suchkov is very upset with Volsky as it stands.”
“Yes, he was not happy that he continued his mission, particularly incommunicado, without informing Severomorsk of his intention to do so. Here we thought Kirov was lost in that accident, and the navy expended considerable time and resources investigating the Orel incident, including a great deal of my own time. It was even considered that Kirov had been sunk by enemy action. I know we don’t want our egos bruised, Volkov, but
not even our mighty Kirov is invulnerable. Hit a ship with the right weapon, in the right place, and it will sink. Well, we never found any sign of Kirov at the bottom of the Arctic sea. Orel was there, but Kirov just seemed to have disappeared—until she suddenly radioed in a week ago, badly damaged.”
“You are correct, sir. Volsky must answer for this.”
“Yes, and here he is poised to take over command of the entire Pacific Fleet, such as it is. This is no small matter, Captain. You are well aware of what’s been going on politically in the Pacific. China was not happy about the election results in Taiwan. They have been taking their tea cups out of the cupboard and setting the table all along the coast from Hong Kong to Shanghai. The Senkaku Island dispute is just a sideshow. It’s Taiwan they’re after. They always have been. Did you see the latest satellite photography from Shantou Harbor?” Kapustin was obviously referring to the Chinese naval base there.
“Well the Chinese have moved a number of their smaller Type 071 amphibious assault ships there, and two more of the bigger Type 081s.”
“We were aware of this in Naval Intelligence.”
“Of course,” Kapustin continued. “And you are also aware of the fact that they are moving more mobile ballistic missiles to that coastline. This may be more than a simple show of force, Captain. What do your people think about it?”
“I agree, sir. The Chinese are serious this time. They’ve been very patient over the Taiwan issue, and frankly more than patient with Japan. They had to be, sir, because they first needed to build a navy that could match Japan’s before they started throwing their weight around. Now they have that navy, and they won’t take no for an answer any longer when it comes to issues like the Senkaku Islands or Taiwan. And by the way sir, as we have signed on to the SinoPac alliance treaty, we have taken to calling those islands the Diaoyutai over at Naval Intelligence Division. One has to be at least politically correct, even if the Japanese still maintain control there.”
“Well what I am suggesting, Volkov, is that things may change—and very soon. Yes, China is sending a couple of destroyers to these islands, and we must join the party. But the real business here is happening at Shantou Harbor. I have little doubt that your satellite photo analysts will soon be reporting those amphibious assault ships are loading tanks and helicopters.”
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