Doppelganger Read Free

Admiral Volsky speaking of this power, yet he could scarcely imagine how it had been achieved. Fire and steel, he thought . What will war become in the decades ahead? Is it any wonder that these ships and men flee to us here?
     And now the memory of his own voice, the young Lieutenant shouting all those many years ago, sounded hollow. Port thirty and signal all ships to follow… But there was no one in his wake now, and HMS Invincible was alone.
     
    * * *
     
    Gordon MacRae was considering what to do now, standing behind the Captain’s station, as he often did, wanting his feet on the deck in any good fight, and not his ass in the chair. Mack Morgan had returned with Miss Fairchild’s consent, indeed her order, to stand the men up, and he had just put the crew to their battle stations. Rodney was finally on their horizon to the north, and the smoke there was certainly cause for alarm. He could see the distant flash, and hear the dull roar of the guns, like far off thunder. Somewhere over that horizon to the northwest, the German battleships also had Rodney on their horizon. The white geysers of shellfall seemed tiny in comparison to the awful wrack that now fisted up into the morning sky.
    “What happened to that Russian sub?” Mack Morgan had an ‘I told you so’ look on his face. “And who the bloody hell is flinging nukes about?”
    The tall column from the massive explosion to the north had been most alarming. The Russian sub was out there somewhere, supposedly on point. MacRae figured they had nukes aboard, but it never occurred to him that they would resort to their use. It was completely unexpected, a level of anger and violence that might have been par for the course in the world they came from, where he knew the hunter killer subs of his day had those shark’s teeth in them, and little hesitation to use them. But not here, not now, the ugly mushroom cloud blighting the sea for the first time in the history of this world.
     “Lord almighty… That’s done it,” he said to Morgan. “Someone has one heavy hand out there.”
    “Has to be 15 to 20 kilotons,” said Morgan. He was still watching the horizon, transfixed. Like MacRae, he had expected to see nuclear weapons in easy use in the war that was brewing back home, but not here. “It either came off that Russian boat,” he said, “or that bloody Astute Class we were warned about must have fired the damn thing.”
    They had received one hurried radio message on the secure system, stating a British Astute class submarine was now on the scene, and that is when the whole scenario began to spin off like a wild Irish jig. Acting on pure reflex, MacRae had sent out an all channels message to try and stand the submarine down. Minutes later the crackle of static came over the airwaves and the horizon had erupted with the broiling mass of a good sized warhead.
    Yet now they had no sign or word from either sub. It was as if they had also disappeared, just as the Russian battlecruiser had vanished some hours earlier. Were they down there, backs broken, and slowly sinking into the murky depths? He had no idea what was going on, but the sight of Rodney now was enough to rattle his reflex for battle again, and he knew he had to act.
    The Germans were obviously closing in for the kill, and MacRae did not have to guess where the enemy ships were as the British might. His Sampson radar had their exact positions pegged, and he knew it was now time for Argos Fire to join the action. After seeing that mushroom cloud, anything he fired might seem a feeble thing by comparison, but he knew he could still influence the outcome of this battle if Argos Fire engaged.
    He leaned in toward Morgan, lowering his voice. “Did her Ladyship say anything about our missile quota this time around?”
    “Not a peep, Gordie. She seems particularly invested in the health of that ship out there.”
    “Aye…” MacRae considered his situation. They had used seven of their precious GB-7