Free Nemesis by John Schettler Page A

and how he had pleaded with Volsky to let him support Fedorov as his Starpom .
“Who knows, there may be another man there that we know nothing of—another
Captain standing in my old shoes. We will have to wait and see, but for the
moment, Volsky and Fedorov will be more than enough to worry about. Volsky can
be a stubborn old ox, but the men love him, and will follow his lead. As for
Fedorov, green as he was back then, he can be very resourceful. We should not
underestimate him when we take the ship.”
    “As to
that, sir, how do you propose we proceed? Surely you don’t want to use the
Siberian Guards to storm the quay and make a forced boarding.”
    “I will
if I must, but no, we must consider that now. There is another man aboard Kirov ,
not an officer, but one who weighed heavily in the balance there—a Sergeant
Troyak, the man commanding Kirov’s security contingent.”
    “A
large force?” Tyrenkov questioned, sizing up the threat.
    “Only
twenty Marines, but these are no ordinary fighting men. In our day we called
them the Black Death. The force dates back to 1705, and they have a long
history of valor in battle, in this war as well. Their motto has been well
earned: Where We Are, There is Victory! Well… This man Troyak, he’s a
formidable presence, and the men under him are very, very good. They have
weapons that will magnify their fighting power many times over. Frankly, I
think if we attempted to take the ship by force, we would fail. They are that
good.”
    “Then
what will we do?” asked Tyrenkov, wanting to know Karpov’s intentions clearly,
for he would be the man required to execute the plan, whatever it might be.
    “We
will not fight the bear,” said Karpov. “But we will give him honey, yes? I
think we must arrange a nice little reception at Severomorsk, which is why I
want to get up there as soon as possible. I’ll want a band on the quay, full
diplomatic protocols, a grand welcome and a banquet of the best food and wine
we can find—and some good vodka.”
    “You
intend to simply invite the commanding officers ashore?”
    “How
else to get them off that ship, and in a place where we might have more
control? Can you arrange everything?”
    “Of
course, sir. But yes, we should get there as soon as possible.”
    “Good,
because I have some mail to deliver to Admiral Volsky.” Karpov reached into his
jacket pocket and produced a small envelope. “Here is a letter from Sergei
Kirov himself. It formally asks him to relinquish control of the ship to me.”
    “You
believe Volsky will do that?”
    “We
shall see… There are a number of considerations here, which we must now
discuss. First off, we do not yet know what their situational awareness is.
When we first arrived here, there was a period of considerable disorientation,
as you might expect. We began to perceive anomalies, news broadcasts, contact
with obsolete ships. Then we mounted a recon operation to Jan Mayen, and the
situation got even more mysterious. It took some time, and much haggling, but
we eventually began to realize what had really happened to us. Believe me, that
was no small hurtle to leap over. The thought the ship had actually moved in
time was quite daunting—impossible, yet there we were. We do not yet know
whether they have sorted this all out yet, but if I know Fedorov, he will be
trying to convince the Admiral that the ship has moved in time, and the
evidence will all begin to mount in favor of that argument. Whether they know
this already is the key question. The message protocol, and the code words I
used in sending it, will serve to reinforce the perception that all is normal,
in spite of any anomalies they have uncovered.”
    “What
do you mean, sir?”
    “I was
Captain of that ship, Tyrenkov. Whenever we set sail on any mission of
importance, there is a secure envelop carried aboard the ship, with a code word
generated only moments before it is delivered, so it is completely secret, with
no possibility