Read Online Winter Storm by John Schettler - Free Book Online Page B

the
earlier models prior to Operation Crusader.”
    “Crusader?”
    “The
planned British relief of Tobruk in November of 1941.”
    “I see…
Another code word. Well, I suppose that settles the matter. As for your research,
have you been studying the Japanese plans for December as I asked?”
    “Yes
sir, I know that history fairly well.”
    “Good.
You and I will sit down and have a long talk about it. Now that the weapons
transfer to the Siberian airships is complete, we can set our minds on the
journey east.
    That
was the one thing Fedorov had been worried about. He had gone down to the Helo
Deck to see Troyak and sound him out, trying to think of a way he might broach
the subject he had just discussed with Doctor Zolkin. He remembered that mission
with Troyak, along the Trans-Siberian rail, and how he had first told the
Sergeant of his amazing experience on the stairway of Ilanskiy. Yet this was
something else entirely. This Troyak would have no recollection of that, or any
of their other missions where he served so ably—the rescue of Orlov with the Anatoly
Alexandrov , and that incredible amphibious assault he led. Then there was
the mission to the desert to rescue O’Conner, Operation Scimitar in Syria, the
attack at Habbaniyah to relief that beleaguered garrison, the raid at Palmyra.
    All of
that happened. The sergeant had already done things in 1940 and earlier that
same year that he would now have no recollection of… Unless there was some
strange way to trigger the memories, like that bandage had with Doctor Zolkin.
That was very odd, something that had clearly survived from the old ship. How
could it remain here, along with those files Zolkin had discovered? What did
Time accomplish in this little shell game it was playing with the two ships.
Clearly this was not the ship he had last set foot on. The presence of a fully
functional battle bridge aft was testimony enough to that fact, and there was
no other sign of damage. But yet… there were these strange remnants, fragments
of the time he had lived through earlier, even digital records in Zolkin’s
medical computers.
    It
remained an inexplicable mystery, but also a sign of hope for Fedorov. Might he
find something else like this that could serve as a trigger with Troyak? He
decided to test his proposition, rustling the branches and leaves of memory on
the tree to see if any fruit might fall.
    “You’re
from Siberia, correct Sergeant?” he had asked Troyak.
    “Chukchi
Peninsula. Small town there.”
    “I hope
all was well with home when we left.”
    “Still
there,” said Troyak, a man of very few words.
    “I
suppose you’ve heard a great many taiga tales over the years. Ever hear of a
thing called the Devil’s Teardrop?”
    Troyak
raised an eyebrow, his face registering recognition. “An old story,” he said. “Tunguska.”
    “Tunguska?
What do you mean?”
    “The
sky light. It goes back a good long way. Something fell, maybe a hundred years
ago or more. Nobody knows what it was, but things were found on the tundra, or
so it’s been said.”
    “I see…
May I ask what you think of our present situation? The Captain has asked me to
brief the crew, and you and your men were high on my list. You’ve heard the
news, yes?”
    “Very
strange,” said Troyak. “Severomorsk…”
    “Ah,
yes, you were ashore, and also aboard the Tuman . I suppose it was quite
a lot to swallow. I was the first to argue that we had slipped somehow. Who
knows how? Probably that accident on the Orel . It’s quite a mystery.”
    Troyak
simply nodded, and Fedorov continued probing a bit.
    “Sergeant,
ever get the feeling you’ve lived through this before? They call it Déjà vu.”
    “Can’t
say that,” said Troyak, apparently oblivious.
    “Can
you handle what has happened to us? And your men?”
    “I
serve this ship and crew,” said Troyak, “on any sea, on any mission.”
    “Yes,
but could any of us have ever expected this would