long do we wait?” said Karpov. “They’ve come right up on our horizon by now. Rodenko, what is the range to those ships?”
“34,000 meters, yet Fedorov was correct. That range is holding fairly well, over the horizon. I don’t think they know we’re here.”
“Just an assumption,” said Karpov. “The British radar is every bit as good as ours, and they had to have seen our helicopter. They are just playing very coy here.”
“But we have no signal intercepts on normal microwave bands for any British set I know,” said Rodenko. “I do have signals down where Fedorov advised me to look just now—but they are very weak.”
“Interesting,” said Admiral Volsky. “What were those signals bands, Mister Fedorov?”
Fedorov swallowed, giving Karpov a quick glance, but he was not the same young man he was when he first arrived here. The experience of all those many time shifts, and the battles he fought, had hardened him, and steeled his will. He had been made Captain of the ship by Volsky long before the hat fit him, but in time he developed considerable skill in that post, and the mindset of command to go with it. So he cleared his throat and spoke.
“Those ships we have on video feed are County Class cruisers, Royal Navy, and of a very old vintage. So I chose radar bands that might have been used in early British equipment.”
“How early?” asked Volsky. “Didn’t they first develop radar sets in WWII?”
“Correct sir.”
“This is a waste of time, Admiral,” said Karpov. “Old ships, new ships, you can see the guns on those forward decks as clear as I can.”
“Yet they should not be there,” said Fedorov quickly. “Those guns are obsolete, as are these ships. They should not be at sea.”
“Don’t be stupid, Lieutenant! They are at sea, no matter what you wish to call them. Can’t you see the video feed?”
“Correct,” said Fedorov, ignoring the insult and remaining calm. “And I also know what I’m looking at, Captain—two County Class cruisers. They are clearly there, yet they cannot be there, not in the year 2021, and if they are, then something very strange has happened here.” There it was, his first assertion that something more than an accident had happened to the ship.
“Are you telling me these ships were dragged out of the bone yards and put back in service? We may have to resort to such measures, but our fat capitalists here do not.”
“That could not be the case here, sir.”
“Why do you say this?” Volsky cut in, holding up a hand when he saw Karpov’s growing anger. He knew his Captain did not want to hear from junior officers like this in a command situation, so he quickly intervened before Karpov exploded.
“Because the last County Class cruiser, the Cumberland, was decommissioned, sold, and broken up for scrap in the year 1959. Believe me, Admiral. I know these ships very well. I have studied this all my adult life, as many here know.”
“You say they went to the scrap yards? All of them?”
“Every last one, sir. I know what I am seeing in the video feed, and it is an exact match for my silhouette book on this class. Yet every ship in that class is long gone. Two were sunk by the Japanese, in the last war, one was scuttled, and all the rest were scrapped between 1948 and 1959.”
“Then it’s a goddamn replica,” said Karpov. “Maybe it has to do with those old war documentaries Nikolin reported on the radio. Either that or you are quite mistaken, Fedorov. That knock on that head of yours must have shaken something loose. Now sit down, mind your business, and keep those stupid history books to your off hours, or I’ll have Orlov collect every last one and throw them overboard.”
“Easy… Easy…” said Admiral Volsky, slipping off the Captain’s chair and walking slowly over to the navigation station. “Let me see that book, Fedorov. The Captain may be right, but let me satisfy myself and have a look.”
Fedorov was relieved when Volsky came over, for he knew he simply had to get the Admiral to see his viewpoint, or they could start something here that would complicate everything.
“Why do you pander to his stupidity, Admiral? Fedorov, I think you need a few more days in sick bay. Have Zolkin examine your head again, because he clearly did not get it right the first two times.”
In spite of Karpov’s lashing tongue, Fedorov maintained his composure, handing the silhouette book