Paradox Hour (29 page)

So there is your confirmation, thought Lütjens. They are still steering 330, coming at us as if they know exactly where we are. That was another odd thing about these engagements. The British seemed to have eyes everywhere. Well, if my seaplanes have spotted them at this range, then they could do the same. But there have been no reports of any further enemy planes, and we still have six fighters overhead. How are they seeing us? Could they have submarines out here too, or is this just good British seamanship? Probably the latter, he thought.

He looked at his watch. If they are coming fast, then Adler will be busy sooner than we think. He walked to the plotting table, looking at the lines drawn to indicate the converging courses. The task force was at 24 knots, and the enemy was easily making at least that speed. This meant the two sides might be converging at nearly 50 nautical miles per hour. Those 280 miles would diminish rapidly. In just under six hours he might have the enemy on his horizon, right near dawn. Then we will see what the sky holds for us, a good sunrise, or the tails of those cursed naval rockets. He did not have long to wait, and it would be a fitful night’s sleep before he got his answer.

Part IX

Maxim 17

“The longer everything goes according to plan, the bigger the impending disaster.”

―
Maxim 17: The Seventy Maxims of Maximally Effective Mercenaries

Chapter 25

Admiral
Volsky was on the bridge when Fedorov came up, his heart heavy as he had just lain yet another man to rest, where he would stand his watch for eternity in the deep sea. How many had died? The fact that he did not know the number was equally disturbing. When you start losing count, then you know the bill is too high, he thought. And how many more will die before this is over, if it will ever be over?

Fedorov came onto the bridge, announced by Rodenko, and he saluted with that hand, giving it a sidelong glance as he did so, and flexing his fingers after Volsky returned his salute.

“Welcome Fedorov, something wrong with that hand?”

“Not at the moment,” said Fedorov, “as long as the damn thing stays put.”

“I don’t understand,” said Volsky, and Fedorov stepped closer, lowering his voice as he told the Admiral what had happened after he threw the Devil’s Teardrop overboard.

“That is most disturbing,” said Volsky. “And this is why you do not have on your leather gloves. Yes? Have you seen Doctor Zolkin?”

“I doubt there is any pill he can give me for that, sir. But this reinforces my belief that the object may have been responsible for destabilizing the ship’s position in time.”

“I am glad that thing is off the ship. Will you be alright now?”

“I hope as much,” said Fedorov. “It may be just a temporary effect from handling the object those few moments. It happened so quickly that I thought I might be seeing things.”

“Let me know if you have any further trouble.”

“I will, sir.”

“Now then,” Volsky adjusted his officer’s coat. “Mister Rodenko has our situation report.” He looked over his shoulder for Rodenko, and the
Starpom
was ready at hand.

“The KA-40 was up just after sunset,” he said. “We could fly any time, but why waste the air defense missiles if those German fighters are about. In any case, we’ve had a good look forward, and can now report the locations of both German battlegroups. One is here, about 280 miles northwest, and the other due north of that position, about here. They have turned on these new headings to effect a rendezvous. This contact here is a British battlegroup composed of two ships, and there are another two here, due east of the predicted German rendezvous point.”

“The first group will be
King George V
and
Prince of Wales
,” said Fedorov. “The second group are the battlecruisers
Renown
and
Repulse
.”

“A lot of power there,” said Volsky.

“Perhaps,” said Fedorov, “but this single German group to the north could match all those ships. My enigma decrypts show the
Tirpitz,
with two battlecruisers, another heavy cruiser, two destroyers and the wild card,
Graf Zeppelin
. The situation is not favorable. As the Germans come east for
Rodney
, the two British battlecruisers will not be able to stop them, and the remainder of the British heavy ships will arrive piecemeal, behind the action from the west. Admiral Tovey tells me that they are also bringing
Duke of York
and
Hood
down from the Denmark Strait, and they would be the last to arrive.”

“Then we must give the Germans something to think about if they continue to move east.” Volsky tapped the enemy contacts on the Plexiglas screen. “We are in missile range now with the weapons we received from
Kazan
. They range out over 600 kilometers. Unfortunately, they are not our heaviest warheads, only 200 kilograms, and firing at this range will also expend most of their fuel, so the fires will not be as much of a factor. You know these enemy ships, Fedorov. How do you suggest we proceed?”

Fedorov took a deep breath, realizing he was now about to plan their battle action, and sign the death warrants of many men with each word he spoke. Yet it could not be helped. They had committed themselves to this course, to this battle, and now it had to be fought. It was either that or they would surely see the British take heavy losses. The
Rodney
alone, even with the two battlecruisers in support, could not stand against the German fleet. They had to act.

“Given the situation,” he began, “I see the main threat at the outset to be the German aircraft carrier,
Graf Zeppelin
. I believe they will be launching
Stukas
at dawn, and so we must strike them tonight, and attempt to either sink that ship or take it out of the action. The
Stukas
are a grave threat.”

“And the battleships?”

“They won’t reach the scene until later tomorrow, and as they approach, they will come within range of our heavier Moskit-II and MOS III missiles, so we have plenty of time to plan for them.”

“Agreed,” said Volsky. “Always get the carrier first. That is a rule that will stand even to our time in 2021. But there are seven ships in that German battlegroup, can we identify that target?”

“They will come into range of the Fregat system radar in three or four hours,” said Rodenko. “With that I think I can select out the carrier. We will see the radar returns of any planes it launches or recovers, and I can designate it as the primary target for any salvo you fire.”

Volsky looked at his watch. “They are not likely to fly off much tonight. Let us wait until the pre-dawn hours. Then, when you identify your target, we’ll give them a rude awakening with the Onyx missiles  we stole from
Kazan
. They will do the job, yes, Fedorov?”

“Graf Zeppelin
has armor, but not anywhere near the protection of the battleships. Yes sir, they will do the job.” Fedorov rubbed his forehead, a worried look on his face.

“I know what you are feeling, Fedorov,” said the Admiral. “Legendary ships out there, commanded by men you have read about, and perhaps idolized in your mind these many years. But you must kill them.”

“Correct, sir. Once, after
Yamato
, Karpov told me it would get easier in time, but I have not found this to be the case.”

“That is because your conscience is still intact. Killing is never an easy thing to do for a man of conscience. Karpov sees things otherwise, because his soul is darkened. He is an efficient and deadly man at the helm of any ship he commands, but he kills wantonly, and without regret. So be thankful that you feel some of the pain our missiles may inflict on these men and ships out there. Yes, I say ships as well, for we live with them, bond with them, whenever we take to the sea. They are the raft of life itself for us here. Without them we are like Lenkov, sinking into the depths of oblivion. So when we sink one, we know what it is to put men into the cold sea, and know we cannot save them. Never forget that, but also never let it prevent you from doing what is necessary to win the day.”

“I understand sir, but this does not make it any easier.”

Volsky nodded. “Once I relied on you to do what we should do in these situations, and on Karpov to do what we must. Now I’m afraid that you must wear both hats, Fedorov. You are Captain of this ship, and I may not always be standing at your side here.”

“I will do my best, Admiral.”

“Then we attack near dawn. They will see the missiles fire, and know we are here. It will be another red day, Fedorov, and when we are done, Lenkov will have more than a few friends, but it must be done.”

“I will see that Admiral Tovey is informed, sir,” said Fedorov. “Nikolin will be here soon. And sir, why don’t you get some rest now. I can relieve you for the night shift.”

“As long as you are fresh for the morning, my young man. Very well, I will see if I can get some sleep.” He lowered his voice. “But let me know if you have any further problems with that hand…”

Carrier Graf Zeppelin ~ Norwegian Sea ~ 7 May, 1941, 04:00

The
flight deck of the carrier
Graf Zeppelin
was still and calm, with the first of the morning fighter contingent still below decks being armed. Six fighters were scheduled for launch at 06:00, to be followed soon after by the first squadron of
Stukas
. The carrier had sortied
streikschwere,
with a strike-heavy compliment primarily composed of modified
Stuka
dive bombers. There were two
Stuka
squadrons aboard, a baker’s dozen in each, for a total of 26 strike aircraft, and another six BF-109Ts in reserve, with four
Arado
seaplanes to make 42 planes in all.

The former first officer of the
Admiral Scheer
, Kapitan zur See Kurt Böhmer, was still in command of the carrier, arriving on the bridge early that day to oversee the morning launch.

We are missing Marco Ritter these days, he thought. I was thinking to see him down on the flight deck with that red scarf flapping in the wind. But he’ll be out there. Word is that the
Goeben
did very well in the Med as a scout ship, and Ritter cherry picked the best
Stuka
pilots from my flight crews here to look after
Hindenburg
. That said, they could not stop those rocket attacks. Nothing we have can stop them. So the only thing we can do when the sky lights up with those missile trails is put up a good shieldwall.

Brinkmann is in
Prinz Eugen
out in front, and I have the new destroyers
Loki
and
Thor
to either side. After what happened to
Sigfrid
, we must have a destroyer abreast of us at all times, and that failing, one of the heavier ships must stand in for that duty. We can take no chances that those rockets will find us again. Yet for now, the sea is empty, and we will pluck out the eyes of any aircraft that come looking for us. The British carriers are well to the south and west in any case, so we should rule the day here. Now to get our boys up and after the British. If I can sink that old battleship we’re looking for, I can save Lütjens and Topp the trouble. Then they can turn and slug it out with the battleships.

The
Schweregruppe
of the task force was out ahead of
Prinz Eugen.
He could not see the tall main masts and superstructure of
Tirpitz
in the darkness, but he could feel the ship’s presence, the cold hard Wotan Hart steel plying through the waters like a great shark.
Scharnhorst
and
Gneisenau
were cruising to either side, guarding the battleship as the destroyers stood watch over his carrier. Once bitten, twice shy. Now that the Germans had faced the British rocket weapons, they sailed in shieldwall formation, with one ship protecting another from the deadly sea skimming missiles.

Kurt Böhmer looked at his watch, seeing the elevator bringing up another two fighters, wings still folded as they rose to the main flight deck. It was then that he saw what he had feared since that first astounding attack near Iceland. There were lights in the sky, high up, rising like shooting stars fleeing the earth and seeking the darkness of the night again. But they would not stay high for long. The watchmen had seen them as well, and alarms were ringing all over the ship. He looked to see men running to battle stations, and reached for his field glasses, his heart beating faster.

One… three… four rockets were in the sky now, climbing, then appearing to hang in the darkness like a line of cold steel stars. Then they fell, one by one, as if they were a formation of precision fighters peeling off to attack a target at lower altitude. Down they came, as the men shouted and footsteps rattled the decks. Guns were turning and training, barrels elevating, and then he heard a gunnery officer shouting at his men.

“Not there!” he pointed with a baton. “Lower your guns. They will come in right over the wave tops!”

It was something his men had been oblivious of in that first attack, but forewarned was now fore armed. The Germans knew what to expect. According to plan, they tightened up their sailing order, like a school of fish seeking safety in a group of closely packed ships—like a group of Viking warriors crouching behind their shields.
Graf Zeppelin
held
Loki
on the right arm,
Thor
on the left. Now the guns began firing, for the director had been correct, and the missiles were diving for the sea.

Böhmer knew what to expect, that dizzying dance over the wave tops, as if the rockets were deliberately taunting the gunners to try to hit them. The roar of the AA guns now became deafening, the bright fire of the exploding rounds lighting of the sable sky and glowing on the dark waters below. He watched, spellbound again, thinking they must surely miss. How could the British even know where his ships were to target them? Did they have a U-boat nearby to give away his position? They could never find him with a random shot like this. He was thinking of them as a spread of torpedoes, dangerous, but something that might be avoided by maneuver. Yet nothing would stay these lethal weapons from their appointed round…