Men of War (2013) (15 page)

Unlike
their Western counterparts, ships were masculine in the Russian Navy. The
Russians couldn’t think of anything with the sheer raw power and hard lines of
a battlecruiser as feminine.

“But
tell me about this trouble in the Sea of Japan.” Volsky folded his arms,
watching the white haired Abramov reach for a computer pad and slide it his way
across the desk top.

“There
you are,” he said. “I’ve poked at it long enough. See if you can make any sense
of it.”

Volsky
read the headline, thinking of the newspaper they had found on Malus Island
with an inner shiver. It read: CHINA PROTESTS NEW JAPANESE NAVAL MANEUVERS, an
old story in the Pacific, but one that was increasingly occupying the front
pages of news outlets across the world.”

“Another
protest,” he sighed.

“More
than that, Leonid,” Abramov cautioned. “We have satellites too. The Chinese
have been moving a lot of equipment around in the last few months—a lot of
mobile rocket launchers. They’ve been rattling their saber again over the latest
election results in Taiwan. They did not wish to see a president elected there
who was so firmly set on Taiwan’s independence.”

“Yes,
for a nation always wagging their fingers at people who interfere in their own
internal politics, they are very fond of also sticking them in everyone else’s
business.”

“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 submit 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?”